"Stop. Don't move."
Jesse's eyes widened. In a way that looked almost like a reflex, a smirk curled the corner of his mouth.
Before he could say anything, Sean spoke again. “You'll notice the safety's off this time. You really shouldn't've underestimated me, you know?"
He watched Jesse's throat work as he swallowed. “Sean—"
"Shut up. Drop the towel and get on the bed.” It wasn't easy to keep his voice and the gun steady at the same time. “On your stomach."
Jesse's brow crumpled in a look that screamed “confusion.” Like a swimmer pulled out too far by a riptide and unsure for the first few seconds exactly what's happening. “What're you planning to—"
"I said shut up. Drop the towel. Get on the bed.” Sean stepped forward and motioned with the muzzle of the .45. “Do it now."
Jesse hesitated another second, then moved in the direction Sean indicated, to the bed on the other side of the room. Sean stayed close to him, but not too close, in case he decided to pull some tricky move out of a ninja movie.
Sean watched as he dropped the towel at the last possible second, but stopped before actually stretching out on the bed. “I don't know what you've got planned, but if it's what I think—"
"Oh, I think we're on the same page. Down on your stomach, and grab the headboard."
Jesse's eyes flickered once, a glint of golden-hazel from beneath long, thick lashes. Then he did as he was told. Sean almost let himself be surprised. He never thought it would be this easy.
He pulled the handcuffs from his pocket. Now came the hard part—cuffing Jesse to the bed without fumbling the gun. Sean could hear his heart pounding in his ears. If he screwed this up ... let Jesse get the better of him one more time...
Again, it turned out easier than he anticipated. Jesse lay with his head on one of the two pillows, his face turned away from Sean. There was tension in every curve and plane of his body—every muscle appeared coiled and ready to spring. But he stayed still, his hands fisted around the spindles of the headboard, knuckles white with the effort. Sean slid a cuff on one wrist, wove the second one between the headboard and the wall, and slipped it onto the other wrist. With each metallic click, Jesse's body jerked.
Sean cleared his throat. “This bed's pretty cheap-looking. You can probably break it if you try.” He wasn't sure why he said it. Maybe just to have something to say.
Jesse turned his head on the pillow. Sean saw how the contours of his face matched the tortured lines of his body. He set the gun on the bedside table, and settled his hand on Jesse's shoulder.
The transformation wasn't immediate. It took a good ten seconds for Jesse to relax—for his brow to unknot, for the muscles in his back and ass and legs to let go of what looked like their involuntary clench. Sean watched it all, amazed at how just the single touch of his hand seemed to be enough to communicate what he intended.
Which was no kind of harm. He didn't play that way, any more than Jesse apparently did. Not ever.
He leaned over to speak into Jesse's ear. “I know you want this. You can pretend later that you didn't, if it makes you feel better ... but I know. I could tell the moment I met you. The second I saw you."
Jesse made a noise—not quite a groan, not quite a sigh. Like honey poured over a bowl of gravel. It went straight to Sean's cock, the sudden redirection of blood flow nearly knocking him sideways off the bed.
He waited and watched Jesse's face. The older man didn't look at him, but he nodded. Once. Quick and easy to miss, but then he lifted his gaze to meet Sean's, and the yes was right there.
"Good,” Sean whispered, and leaned in further to kiss him. Jesse twisted his head to meet him, his lips parting easy to let him inside. It was sweet like nothing Sean had ever tasted—the flavor of Jesse giving in.
Chapter Seven
Jesse let himself fall into the kiss, drinking in all the bright, shiny anticipation bleeding off Sean's lips and hands. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't a relief to do it. To let someone else be in charge, even for a little while. Even if it was just sex.
Just sex...
Was it? Really? Then why was his heart racing like a Goddamn freight train? Couldn't be just the kinky thrill of the cuffs biting into his wrists. No, there was something else ... different ... more.
He shied away from the thought. It couldn't afford to be anything more. Sean couldn't afford it to be anything more. Not after what Jesse'd already taken from him.
"Hey,” Sean whispered. “Quit thinking so much.” He moved his hand down in a slow glide ‘til it reached the base of Jesse's spine.
Jesse tried not to tense up. Tried to avoid reading what the younger man was feeling. He wanted only his own sensations now, and only those that came courtesy of nerve endings in muscle and skin. Emotion? Could go fuck itself.
But it was hard not to notice the conflict in Sean as he rubbed his huge paw in a circle over his skin. “You've done this before, right? I mean, I don't ... I wouldn't want to—"
"Pop my cherry?” Jesse couldn't resist twisting his head around to grin at him any more than he could resist being charmed by the way Sean's cheeks reddened. “No worries. Haven't been a virgin for a long time."
"But it's been a while, right?"
Jesse glanced at him in surprise. Who the hell was the psychic here, anyway?
"Yeah, it's been a while. Not since...” He stopped speaking and cleared his throat. No need to go there.
But Sean wasn't stupid, which was brought home again when he said, “Not since prison?” His tone was sympathetic, but not pitying. Or was that what Jesse felt through the touch of his hand?
"I don't wanna talk about that."
Sean nodded. Then he stood and began stripping out of his clothes. As he shucked off his jeans, he said, “I'd stop to take a shower, but I'd feel bad about leaving you here like this.” The note of sarcasm in his voice made Jesse flinch.
"Said I was sorry about that."
"Dude, you left me handcuffed to a bed. For hours."
Jesses swallowed. “So this is what? Payback?"
"Yeah. A little bit ... yeah."
"Bring it, cowboy.” Jesse winked, and watched with satisfaction as the younger man blushed deeper.
A second later, he found himself pressed into the mattress by the length of Sean's body. He felt teeth skim the place where his neck joined his shoulders, and then hot breath as Sean spoke again, his lips grazing skin with every word.
"Still need you to answer that question, man. Why?"
Jesse didn't have to ask him to clarify, but he'd be damned if he'd cave that easy. “Told you, I'm crazy. A real psycho. Thought a smart kid like you would get that by now."
Sean thrust his hips, rubbing what felt like a solid steel bar against Jesse's hip. “You wanna play games, huh? Maybe you want me to get up and walk away after all? Leave you here, just like you did to me?"
"Nah, you're bluffing. You want my ass too bad."
Sean laughed, sending a puff of hot hair down Jesse's spine. A line of gooseflesh followed it, and he had to chew on the inside of his cheek to keep from shivering. When Sean bit him again—directly on the back of the neck this time—he did everything but swallow his tongue to keep from making a seriously unmanly noise. Who knew getting topped by a college boy would turn him on so hard?
And then Sean was moving—sliding to the foot of the bed, dragging sloppy kisses down Jesse's spine as he went. He forced Jesse's legs apart, settled between them, and laid more kisses across the small of his back and the top of his ass. At the last possible second, when Sean's long fingers were already spreading him wide, Jesse caught on to his intention and ... and...
"Whoa. What're you—” Holy-mother-of-God-hot-wet-slick-fuck. This time, Jesse did make a noise, and it wasn't quiet or dignified or manly. As for the way his body closed up and clamped down, to the point where the muscles in his thighs were in danger of twisting themselves out of his skin ... well. You don't do that to a man without warning.<
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"Take it easy,” Sean whispered, and went back to lapping at him, teasing his tongue in circles around the twitching rim.
"Sean.” It came out like the cry of a half-strangled cat.
Sean paused. “I can stop if you want.” He waited a beat and feathered his tongue up and down the crease of Jesse's ass, then pulled back and blew a stream of cool air against the wet skin. “Should I stop?"
Jesse said something that started out as English but disintegrated into a garbled mess of vowels and consonants by the time it made it past his lips.
"Right.” With no warning, Sean stabbed his tongue into Jesse and proceeded to lick him open. His fingers pressed hard into Jesse's glutes, fighting the way they clenched against the invasion.
Jesse turned his head on the pillow and did his damnedest to focus on the lame painting of a mama duck and her six yellow babies that decorated the far wall of the motel room. He tried just as hard not to hump the mattress beneath him. But then Sean started humming in the back of his throat, the vibrations traveling up through his tongue and straight into Jesse, and yeah ... the not-humping was pretty much a lost cause. At least the dry burn of the cheap bedspread against his dick meant he likely wouldn't embarrass himself by coming too soon.
He could feel himself opening for Sean—relaxing with each sharp thrust. The glow of arousal seeping off Sean's hands and mouth added a mind-bending dimension to his own, like an endless feedback loop of fuck-yes-more.
Finally, the younger man seemed satisfied with what he'd accomplished and pulled away. Cool air moved over the lower half of Jesse's body as Sean reached over the side of the bed for the duffel and retrieved a condom and the bottle of lubricant.
"Gonna fuck you real good,” he said, his voice just a note or two above a bass-line growl.
Again without warning, something touched Jesse's ass. Cool this time, and solid. The tiny part of his brain still functioning told him it was a lube-slicked finger, and not to jump or freeze up again. He inhaled and let the breath out slowly.
"Can you turn on your side?” Sean said and slid the finger deep, past the initial resistance.
Jesse kept breathing, slow and measured. He clutched the spindles of the headboard and used them as a pivot-point to turn his body.
Sean moved behind him, never losing contact. “Gonna try another one now."
Jesse ground his teeth together in frustration. Topped by a college boy was one thing, but now he felt awkward. Inexperienced even, as if he'd somehow regained the status of virgin after all. Then Sean pressed in that second finger, careful but relentless, and Jesse got busy trying not to bite through his bottom lip.
"Come on, Jess, ease up. Breathe."
Jesse closed his eyes and concentrated on giving in. On letting down the defenses eighteen months in Folsom would trigger in any man. The burn of two fingers inside him and a third angling for entry made him want to kick and fight. He resisted the urge and worked at keeping the inhales deep and exhales long and steady.
Why was he doing this again? Why had he allowed himself to be put in this position? Oh yeah ... because he owed this kid. He owed him big. If there was another reason lurking somewhere under his sense of obligation, he didn't want to know about it.
Sean curled his long body around Jesse's and hooked his chin over Jesse's shoulder. He reached for Jesse's cock, which was still hard even with all the resistance his body was putting up against Sean's invasion.
Then Sean twisted the fingers on his other hand, skating them over the sweet spot that made Jesse jerk and twitch and grunt. He did it again, and Jesse could feel him grinning against this shoulder. Could feel the satisfaction—not quite smug, but maybe a little arrogant—pouring off his skin. He crooked his fingers a third time and held them there, pulsing them as he jacked Jesse's dick. Jesse felt himself open like a Goddamn rose for the press and push and swirl of those fingers. For the hot coil of need spiraling up his spine.
He flinched a little when Sean pulled away. Listened to the rip of the condom wrapper, then the squishy sound of lube being applied over Latex. He licked his lips. The air in the small room tasted stale. The bedspread felt scratchy under his hip and shoulder, and the cuffs bit into his wrists when he tried to shift his hands. He catalogued it all—every mundane detail. Struggled to ignore the way Sean panted in his ear and nuzzled the side of his neck, finding a pulse-point and licking over it again and again. Refused to acknowledge the bone-deep need rising off Sean's skin like steam from a newly roused volcano. Because if Jesse thought about that stuff—if he let it inside, let it distract him from the business at hand, which was getting fucked and definitely not feeling anything about it one way or the other—then they'd both be in the deep weeds.
Sean wrapped a hand around Jesse's thigh and lifted. Jesse took the cue and angled his leg backward over the younger man's hip, flexing his lower spine and bracing himself. Then Sean's hand was on Jesse's cock again, and the kid sure as hell knew what he was doing—lots of circling and dragging and friction, and the tip of his thumb working the head like he'd known the geography for years. Not enough to make Jesse come, but enough to take his mind off the way Sean had begun seeking entry. Pressing ... prodding ... sliding in, then backing off again. A little more each time.
Jesse dug his heel into Sean's calf and said, “Who's treatin’ who like a girl, cowboy?"
Sean slid his hand off Jesse's cock and delivered his answer in a gutter-filthy murmur. “Shut up before I gag you with your own dirty shorts."
Which shouldn't have sent a punch of arousal to Jesse's groin. But nothing about this was what it should've been, right down to Jesse's sudden hunger to be held down by the huge hand now splayed across his stomach and fucked wide open.
That image—coupled with the spikes of desire he could feel jumping off Sean's skin—made him arch his back in a tighter curve, right into that motherfucking burn. Painful, but not enough to make him want to do anything more than...
"Take it ... yeah, come on, take it,” Sean whispered, thready and broken and holy fuck, this was too easy. It shouldn't have been so easy. It shouldn't have felt so good or hurt so much at the same time. He shouldn't've been pinging back and forth between pleasure and pain like a Goddamn hockey puck, and he sure as hell shouldn't've loved it like he did.
Sean readjusted the angle of his thrust, and all at once too-much and too-full gave way to just-right, and Goldilocks was willing to let Papa Bear pound his ass into eternity so long as he kept hitting that spot ... right ... there.
Jesse heard himself moan, “Just like that,” or some lame bullshit to that effect, and didn't even care. His cock was in Sean's hand again, and all was right with the world. But now Sean was struggling to say something.
"Why, Jesse? Tell me why. Need to know."
"Not now.” To his own ears, Jesse's voice sounded more like the croak of a dying frog than anything human. “Ask me later."
"You'll just lie again."
Jesse cringed a little. But screw that—he wasn't here to search his soul. He was here to get fucked. He clutched the headboard's fat wooden spindles in his fists and worked his hips back against Sean's, lost in the hot, fast build of his own climax and the sounds Sean made as he rocked into him. Lost in the purely carnal joy pouring off Sean's skin. He could taste it, combined with the flavor of the sweat that dripped off the younger man's face and splashed on his own. He thought maybe he could live on it, if he had to.
And then he wasn't thinking anymore, not at all. He was just coming, like somebody was knocking it out of him with a wrecking ball, over and over. Coming so hard it fucking hurt. Stole his breath and made his heart skip too many beats all at once. He thought maybe this was it—the end ... and some part of him knew that was stupid. But he felt a little surprised just the same when he opened his eyes a minute later and didn't see the gates of hell creaking open, or feel the heat of eternal flames ready to eat him alive.
Instead, he felt Sean's hand fall away from his still-twitching cock
to dig its fingers into his hip. Sean's dick—that same hot, hard bar of steel wedged inside him—kept right on working his ass for all it was worth. Jesse pressed his head back against the younger man's shoulder, trying for eye contact. All he got for his trouble was an up-close-and-personal view of Sean's face twisted in what looked like agony. And now other emotions were bleeding through the syrupy-slick flow of pleasure running off Sean's skin. Disappointment ... frustration ... anger...
What the fuck? What more did this kid want from him?
Sean's voice came back to him, the plaintive tone of his question echoing in Jesse's head. "I just want to know ... why. Why you'd risk going back to prison. Why you'd risk dying. And why you'd ruin a stranger's life—my life—just to take out Paco."
The speed and force of Sean's thrusts diminished, as if he were running out of steam. Couldn't finish what he started because of all the noise in his own head. Jesse knew what that felt like. Goddamn it.
He turned his head so his lips were less than an inch from the younger man's ear and said the first thing that came into his head. “I did it because sometimes doing the right thing calls for sacrifice. And I'm expendable.” He paused to breathe, his heart storming against the wall of his chest. Then he said, “But you're not, and for that I'm honestly sorry."
Sean froze. A jagged bolt of surprise burst off his skin as his fingers dug deeper into the thin flesh at Jesse's hip. He made a sound, low in his throat, as if he were trying to come up with some kind of answer to Jesse's declaration. Well fuck that. Bad enough Jesse'd been forced into making sense at a moment like this.
He flexed his lower back again, feeling the muscles protest and not caring. What mattered was the way Sean gasped. The way his eyes rolled back in his head, and his thrusts picked up tempo and depth again.
Jesse knew when Sean came by the way he bit down again on the back of his neck and held the flesh in his teeth, like a warning. Like a claiming. Jesse'd seen mating dogs do the same. The thought of it was almost enough to get his dick interested again, if he hadn't been fucked to exhaustion.
Phaze Fantasies, Vol. III Page 25