by Anna Zabo
“We’ve worked with each other practically every day for ten months, and I’ve known Michael since undergrad.”
“So he knows a lot about you, too.”
Very nice. “Part of the reason I came on board.”
Justin settled back down. “Where does this leave us?”
Indeed. That was the point of this discussion. He stroked Justin’s hair—soft despite being dyed. “I still intend to flog and fuck you tonight.”
Justin’s shudder was sensual and delicious. All that shifting and rubbing. Fire sank down into Eli. Coming twice in one night would not be an issue, and how long had it been since he’d been this aroused? “I’ll take that as consent.”
“Please.” He thrust against Eli’s thigh. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
Eli twisted his fingers into Justin’s hair and lifted. “I have every idea. And if you come before I tell you, you’ll get far more than seven strikes with a cane and you will not like it. At all.”
That produced a different but equally delightful shudder. “Yes, Eli.” He settled back down. No more coy sliding.
Good. “Do you want more beyond this night?”
A long pause. “If you’re willing.”
Oh, Justin. “We wouldn’t be lying here otherwise. I scene at parties, that’s it. I don’t do this.” He gestured at them and the couch. “Not at parties. And not very often at all.” Never, actually.
The sound that came from Justin was a squeak.
Here was the part where he needed to tell the truth. “I’m not an easy Dom. I’m exacting and demanding and I will punish you—not for failure when you put in the honest effort, but if you don’t work for it.”
Justin giggled. “So basically, the same as at work, but with a crop in your hand?”
“Yes.” He paused. “And that’s eight, Mr. White.”
His breath caught. “I’m not going to be able to sit on Monday, am I?”
“Oh, you’ll sit. You’re just not going to like it.” Eli fingered Justin’s collar. “And you’ll get no sympathy from Sam whatsoever.”
“Fuck.”
Soon. “Tell me about this.” He tugged at Justin’s collar.
“It’s—I bought it. For when I’m not with anyone.”
“Good.” He hadn’t realized how much that had been bothering him until Justin answered. That possessiveness should have frightened Eli. It didn’t.
Nor did it seem to bother Justin. “You’re going to replace it.”
“How very astute.” As soon as Justin set foot in Eli’s home, that hunk of leather would come off. “Leave it for now. It’ll make a fine handle when you’re naked.”
Justin sucked in a breath. “You’re going to keep me on edge all night, aren’t you?”
Oh, yes. Until Justin was pleading for release. Screaming for permission. “You’re the one who claimed that you always come right on time.”
“I am never going to live that down.”
“No. Certainly not when I get to say when the right time is.” Eli touched the top button of Justin’s shirt and worked it free before sliding down to the next and unbuttoning that, too. “It’s fun to use your own words against you.”
He moaned. “Sadist.”
Eli explored the warm flesh of the well-honed chest beneath the silk of Justin’s shirt, plucking at Justin’s dusting of golden-brown hair. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
Justin’s breath hitched.
Eli circled a nipple before pinching it gently. “Safeword?”
“Saturn.” Justin squirmed. “And that wasn’t me saying it.”
“I should hope not.” Eli pressed harder and twisted.
Justin about levitated off the couch. “Fuck!” But he didn’t thrash, didn’t try to escape. After the initial shock, he fell back and quivered, eyes closed, face a mask of pain and pleasure—but mostly pleasure.
Good. Eli increased the pressure until Justin was writhing on top of him. Wasn’t that the best thing he’d felt in years? Justin bucking against Eli’s body, hands locked on Eli’s arms, nails biting into flesh even through the dress shirt. Justin. His. Finally.
White-hot need drove straight up to Eli’s head and down into his balls. With his free hand, Eli caught Justin’s head and took his mouth, breathing in the whimpers and moans like smoke—more intoxicating than any drug. If Justin kept moving like that, Eli would be just as on edge and out of control.
Part of Eli wanted that—to become as lost as Justin. Not here, though. Not with so many eyes and ears present—so he relented, releasing the nipple, but not Justin’s mouth. Justin quieted and stilled.
Oh, Eli. You are so lost.
When he broke the kiss, Justin collapsed completely, his breathing harsh, heart beating so fast, Eli felt it against his own. “Oh, fuck.”
Eli stroked Justin’s hair. “Wait until I start on you with toys.”
A little tremble. “Please tell me that’ll be soon.”
That forced a grunt from Eli, and he shifted beneath Justin, his shaft hard and thick. “Not adverse to public sceneing?”
“A tad late to ask that, don’t you think?” Amusement laced those words.
It was a bit of an admonishment, but well deserved. “I should have asked. There aren’t any private spaces here, but this is your first time, and you didn’t know.”
“Would have been hotter if I had.”
Like lava up Eli’s back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’d better,” Justin muttered.
Such a mouth. “Nine.”
“Flatterer.”
“Ten, Mr. White.” Eli pressed his cock into Justin’s thigh. “I swing a cane quite hard and I have no qualms about laying strikes down after I’ve flogged your ass.”
This time, Justin held his tongue, though his harsh breathing spoke volumes.
“Serious question time.”
Justin stirred. “Yes?”
“Dislikes. Things you hate. Nonnegotiables?”
“Scat. Water play.” Justin paused. “I’m not good at role-playing. Master/slave stuff. I had a bad experience with that. Just so you know.” He propped himself up on one arm. Though his cheeks were flushed, the rest of his expression was hard and serious. “Please don’t belittle me. It’s one thing to call me on the carpet if I’ve screwed up. It’s another to . . .” Justin’s jaw worked, as if he were struggling to find the words.
“Verbally abuse you for the sake of it?”
“Yeah,” Justin said. “That.”
“I’ve never been that kind of Dom.”
“Good.” A pause. “Shouldn’t that be eleven?”
So he was counting as well. Interesting. “I told you I wouldn’t punish you for trying and failing.”
“So you did.”
Was that a hint of disappointment? “I can certainly make it eleven, if you’d like.”
“Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a brat.”
“Eleven, because you are a brat.” He stroked Justin’s cheek. “Speaking of things you like . . .”
Justin’s huff of laughter vibrated through Eli. “Everything you’ve done to me tonight.”
That was obvious. “Want anything I haven’t done to you yet?”
“I believe you mentioned flogging and fucking?” Those lovely lips pulled into a smirk.
“Are you begging, Mr. White?” Eli pushed himself up to sitting. The things he wanted to do to Justin . . . and could. His balls ached.
“No, not really.”
Eli tightened a hand in the hair beneath his fingers and Justin’s change from smiling to panting lit a fire in Eli’s veins. “Well, you should be, don’t you think?” Eli let go.
Justin slid from the couch to the floor and knelt between Eli’s knees, his lips wet, his blue eyes wide. “Eli, will you please flog me until I’ve screamed myself hoarse? Please fuck me until I beg you to let me come. I want your whip on my back and your cock inside me.”
Oh hell yes. Eli reached f
or his gloves and walking stick. “If you insist, Justin.”
Chapter Seven
Justin’s lungs ached and his blood was on fire. When had Eli morphed from cold to so hot all Justin wanted was to be touched by him? Fucked by him? Sometime between when he’d handed Sam his résumé and when he’d met Eli the morning of his interview. Crawling around in Eli’s office might have cemented his lust, but that hadn’t started it.
Here he was, being led by Eli to a room to be stripped, tied up, whipped, and fucked.
Finally.
He hadn’t been flogged in ages and if he didn’t feel Eli inside him soon, his brain might melt. Even better with people watching. When they’d lain on that couch, he’d caught a few of the looks—the stares, the whispers. As they moved down the hall, there were more. Evidently Eli was popular, but hard to get.
I don’t do this. Not at parties. And not very often at all.
But for Justin, he had. He would. And fuck it all, if that alone didn’t make Justin fly.
Down a set of stairs and another hallway and into a sizable room and . . . Holy shit. He’d never seen a dungeon like this. Rack. Cross. Horse. A net. Bars. Too much to take in. Eli cupped Justin’s ass and guided him farther into the room. “Cold feet?” he murmured in Justin’s ear.
“Fuck no. I just don’t know where to beg you to start.”
Eli’s teeth scraped Justin’s earlobe. “Not something you need to worry about.” He stepped into the center of the room and gestured for Justin to join him. Gloved fingers swept over temple and cheeks. Low words, meant for him alone. “Do you trust me, Justin?” Eli gripped his collar.
“Yes.” He did. Right now he did.
Eli pulled him into a deep kiss that burned its way down to his toes, then spoke louder this time. “I want you to turn and see all the people who have come to watch us play.”
So many pinpricks danced down his limbs it was a wonder he stood. Justin did as told, meeting all those smiles, frowns, and stares. The jealousy, the desire. He found Michael standing nearby, Sam at his feet. Somewhere along the line, Sam had lost his shirt and the nipple clamps and gained welts on his shoulders, but he was relaxed—and highly amused.
At least the boss approved. Michael was focused on Eli, his pride clear as day.
There was a story he wanted out of Eli. He shivered, a flicker of images playing through his head. He turned, taking in the rest of the room before meeting Eli’s gaze.
“Did you see how many ached to be you?” Eli spoke low as he stroked the pit of Justin’s throat.
“Yeah. Also saw how many wanted to be you.”
“Shall we make them all envious?”
Yes. But that wasn’t the reason Justin stood with Eli’s hand on his hips. “Whatever pleases you will please me, Eli.”
Warm breath on his neck. “You are going to fly so high tonight.”
No doubt of that. Hell, he was already halfway there. “Then let’s make them all wish they were us.”
Eli stepped back. “Lyle, if you’d be so kind.” He held out his cane and Lyle took it.
“Shoes and socks off, Justin.”
He obeyed, sliding them off to the side with his foot. Sam reached out to pull them completely out of the way.
“Toenails, too?”
He’d painted them black, like his fingernails. “I like when things match.”
The devil’s smile returned. “Well, that’s good to know.”
There was the shower of sparks down his limbs. Of course Eli would use that against him. And he’d likely love every second.
Eli stalked forward, his limp barely discernible but his desire clear in the flush of his skin, the hard line of cock in his pants. “Let’s see what’s under all this silk.”
Justin groaned when Eli skimmed his belly before yanking the shirt out from where he’d tucked it into his jeans. Buttons next, until the ends fluttered open. The intensity in Eli’s gray eyes poured through Justin, sparking every craving to kneel, to beg, to plead for whatever Eli deemed fit to give him.
The tips of Eli’s gloved fingers barely touched his trembling abs, but Justin felt the heat from his head down to his pained toenails.
“What a treasure.”
“Wait until you get to the pants.”
Eli lifted an eyebrow. “Twelve, Mr. White. A full dozen.” He stepped forward and gripped Justin’s shoulders under the shirt. “Actually, let’s make it thirteen, a master’s dozen, since you can’t seem to help yourself.” He shoved the shirt off Justin’s shoulders and it slid down his arms to the floor.
Justin shuddered when Eli’s hands followed the silk, leather gliding over arms before wrapping around each wrist. “No more lip, Justin. Or I’ll gag you. I’d much rather hear you begging and screaming.”
Oh, fuck. Eli’s smile was slight, but full of lust. Every bit of Justin shook. “Yes, Eli.” Please.
“Good.” Eli let go of Justin’s wrists, but caught his chin, his leather-clad thumb pressing against Justin’s lips. He opened to Eli, sucking in the digit. Sparks in the back of his head. Nothing tasted like leather. Nothing. The strange tang, a hint of salt.
Maybe a gag wouldn’t be so bad after all, to have leather biting into his mouth while Eli plowed into him. He licked and sucked at Eli’s thumb the same way he’d taken his cock—with everything he had.
Eli’s breath hitched, a sound no one else could have heard, and it just about made Justin come. Eli on edge, wanting this just as badly as Justin did. Never had that before, not with . . . Justin threw the name out of his mind. That man didn’t belong here. Eli slid his thumb out slowly and their eyes met.
The knife’s edge of desire twisted in Justin. “Eli?”
Eli stroked his throat, and worked his way down to Justin’s chest. “Yes?”
He’d come here to forget Eli. Maybe Eli would make him forget the past. “Take everything I have tonight.” A whisper of words.
Eli’s smile was as bright as it was deadly. “Challenge accepted.”
Fuck mashed against yes. Both won.
Eli’s gloved fingers moved down over Justin’s sternum. Lower still, moving over abs and belly until they met the top of his jeans. Justin couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe while Eli worked the button free and pulled down the zipper.
Eli stepped in so close his vest brushed Justin’s bare chest with every matching breath they took. Gripping the edge of Justin’s jeans and boxers, Eli pushed them down until they slipped free of Justin’s cock and slid to the floor. If the room lacked heat, Justin couldn’t tell. The heat of Eli’s body seemed to radiate straight though Justin.
He tipped his head back when Eli’s hot leather hands caressed his ass. He gasped when he pulled their bodies together, the cloth of Eli’s pants rubbing against the crown of Justin’s dick. As if his balls weren’t burning enough. More. He needed so much more.
Eli nudged him backward, out of the pool of his pants and closer to pain and pleasure.
Now the coolness of the room flooded across Justin, raising goose bumps, but it was Eli’s stare that set off every nerve. The quirk in his lips dissolved into something beyond lust. The slight furrow in his brow, the flush in his cheek as he looked down. He reached a hand forward but didn’t touch Justin.
“‘Fortitudo e dolore.’” Eli’s strong voice rang out over the murmur of the crowd around them.
The tattoo. Right above his thigh, in simple script. He had no doubt Eli understood the Latin. He replied anyway. “Strength from pain.”
Justin’s heart sat in his mouth. Eli’s expression was unreadable—a complete mask. He stepped close, place his hands on Justin’s hips, and looked Justin in the eyes.
Then Eli dropped to his knees and kissed the words.
Justin wasn’t the only person to let out a sound—half gasp, half moan. What that must have cost Eli—but God, the heat from his mouth, so close to Justin’s cock and so far away.
Justin fought against the fire in his balls. He didn’t want to disappoin
t Eli, but on edge didn’t even begin to describe the sensations in his body. He curled hands into Eli’s hair, instinct overriding better sense.
Eli looked up. “Having issues, Mr. White?” Still in control, even on his knees with his curls clenched hard in Justin’s fists.
Justin let go. “Just . . . sensitive there.”
“So I see.” Fingers traced over the letters, every stroke igniting a tremble in Justin. Eli chuckled and rose with grace. Seeing a twinge of pain fucked with the rhythm of Justin’s heart. A Dom—Eli—falling to his knees. For him. I don’t understand you. I want to understand you.
Eli took both wrists. “Everything?”
After seeing him on his knees? “Yes.” And more.
“Cuffs, I think.” Eli turned over his wrists. “And the frame.”
Not the cross. More motion, less support. He shivered. Perfect. A few heartbeats later, Eli wrapped leather cuffs around Justin’s wrists. Where they had come from, who the fuck knew. All that existed now was a frame of wood, the stretching of his arms and legs and the warmth of Eli’s hand on his back.
“You are so beautiful.”
Justin arched against his bonds when Eli traced a single finger down his back and into his crack and brushed his hole. Nothing to thrust against, no purchase in the air for his cock. He groaned.
Firm hands settled his hips and the leather-covered length of Eli’s dick rocked against Justin’s ass. “Eventually,” Eli said. “And perhaps right here, like this.” His hand closed around Justin’s shaft.
The low moan that filled the room was his own. Eli didn’t stroke, just held him there, fist so tight around Justin. “Not yet.”
He knew that, but he was too far gone to argue. “Yes, Eli.”
Eli’s chuckle rattled Justin’s bones and echoed in the rattle of chains above Justin’s head, and then Eli was gone.
Justin opened his eyes—he hadn’t realized he’d closed them—and saw his naked form in reflection. Flushed, limbs carefully stretched by chain and cuff—and Eli standing behind him, smiling. Same expression Eli always wore just before he made Justin pay in spades.
This would hurt. Just what he wanted, and from the very man that made him need it so badly, crave the stab and the spark.