by Jana Downs
The last strike hit, and Bradley shuddered as Ryan rubbed his hands over the scorching flesh. “Good boy. You did so well.” He imagined that Bradley was just starting to float in a world where everything felt just right. His own body was screaming at him to claim the boy that was submitting so nicely to him. It was almost a compulsion to fuck him at this point.
“I could get addicted to you, boy.” He didn’t know what possessed him to say it, but there is was. He just hoped that Bradley hadn’t heard the guttural admission due to his subspace.
* * * *
He pulled Bradley’s ass apart and smeared some slick onto the eager rosette that seemed to beg for his attentions. Bradley’s whole body was on fire, his nerve endings more alive than he could ever remember them being. He was floating in a world of sensation, and he didn’t think he could get any higher. From the spanking alone he was dancing along the edge of orgasm, but it wasn’t just a focused pleasure on his cock or ass. Was it possible to have a full-body orgasm? Because if so, he was going to have one.
Ryan pushed a finger inside him, and Bradley rocked backward instinctually, clinging to the leather and chrome motorcycle he was posed on. He thanked God for the gag in his mouth that tasted faintly like Ryan as his noises got louder with each subsequent finger fuck. He couldn’t even form words in his mind as his hole was stretched for Ryan’s use. He wanted to be the man’s fuck doll. Whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, as long as this incredible feeling didn’t fade.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” Ryan rumbled, pushing a third finger into Bradley’s ass. “I have so many more things to play with you with.” Bradley whimpered at the images that flickered through his head. He needed. “Going to make you come so much you won’t be able to move after.”
Please! Finally, Ryan seemed to have some mercy and pressed the thick head of his cock against the tight ring of muscle that guarded Bradley’s entrance. How was Ryan even talking at this point? Bradley was fucking mindless. He pushed back, wanting Ryan to shove inside him.
“You all right?” Ryan asked. At least he sounded strained now. Bradley nodded, telling him without words to hurry the fuck up with each backward thrust of his hips. Not fragile. Fuck me. Please.
Ryan shoved deep, and Bradley couldn’t suppress the cry of triumph that issued out of his throat at the invasion. Finally, Ryan was his. The wolf wasted no time in setting a hard pace that showed exactly how close to madness the man really was. He pounded inside him, and Bradley met him thrust for thrust. They fucked like they’d both been waiting a lifetime to come together, and maybe they had. All Bradley knew was that he needed this like he needed air in his lungs.
The pace and the intensity were not something to be maintained however. It wasn’t long before Bradley felt the telltale tingle at the base of his spine that signaled his impending orgasm. He gave a muffled whimper of warning, asking permission.
Ryan growled and slowed his pace. “Want to come on my cock, my little slut?”
Yes, please, Sir, yes. His hands dug into the leather of the seat and he screamed as his balls drew up painfully.
“Come then. Show me how much you want me.”
Bradley lost it, his body seizing like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket. He didn’t know up from down as his world rocked and splintered, sending him rocketing off into space before beginning the endless fall back to earth. Distantly, he was aware of Ryan giving his own rumbled shout of completion as Bradley’s body clenched around him, and the pleasurable spurts of his release warmed his insides exponentially. The action shouldn’t have been nearly as hot as it was, but he felt so thoroughly claimed by it that his cock gave another enthusiastic stream of orgasm against the side of Ryan’s bike.
Bradley sagged, trusting the bike to keep up his weight. His whole body trembled and his mind was completely blank as Ryan’s grip on his hips loosened and their breathing evened out. He clung to the bike, never wanting the moment to end.
“Are you all right, sweet?” Ryan asked, reaching up and unknotting the black bandanna where it was wrapped around his head.
Bradley moved his jaw, which was surprisingly sore given the fact that it was only a piece of cloth that had stretched it. “I’ll let you know when I start thinking again.”
“Let’s get you back inside and a bag packed.”
Oh yeah. He wanted to go back inside. He itched to sketch, to paint. He needed to get this feeling on paper. If only he could move.
Ryan’s low chuckle sounded behind him. “Need help?” He nodded. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and hauled him backward, righting him. “Hmm, next time I get it in my head to try something kinky, remind me that cum is a bitch to try and get out of the little grooves on the side of my bike.” Bradley frowned. He didn’t mean to make a mess. “Shh, sweet. That was a joke.” It was only when Ryan spoke that Bradley realized that he’d made a noise of protest at the thought of bothering his bike. “Wow. You’re high as a kite right now, huh?” Bradley nodded and stumbled toward the steps. “Hmmm, you’re going to kill yourself like that. Here.” Ryan bent and scooped him up like some damsel out of a Shakespeare play and strode a little unsteadily up the metal steps.
Bradley smiled and looked up into the handsome face of his lover. “Love you, Ry.”
The other man glanced down at him and gave him a sheepish smile. “That’s the endorphins talking.”
He was wrong. But it wasn’t polite to correct his Dom so soon after getting his mind blown.
Chapter Eight
Ryan deposited Bradley on what was left of the couch cushions and went to pack the bag himself. He was still deeply in sub space, and Ryan didn’t want to bring him out of it too abruptly. It was good that he was allowed to bask in it a bit, especially the first time. Ryan didn’t doubt that it was his first time as well. His reactions were too raw, too open. He’d been completely exposed to Ryan, and Ryan had been able to do nothing but stand in awe of his submission. No one had ever given him submission quite like that. And soon he’ll be giving his beautiful sub self to other Doms at Riders. The insidious voice made him growl. No way. No fucking way. What choice did he have? If Ryan didn’t claim him, Bradley was an available. The thought made him sick. No one deserved to see that blissed-out look on Bradley’s face.
“I’ll be over here in your bathroom getting your toiletries, all right?” Ryan asked as he finished stuffing the only unripped pair of jeans he could find into a discarded duffle.
“Okay,” Bradley murmured, his eyes half-shut as he rested his head on the couch cushion he’d dragged over.
They were probably going to have to buy him ninety percent of his things. Whoever tore through the place had left little untouched. He sniffed the air but recognized no scent. Too many humans and wolves had traipsed through the area, and he couldn’t discern who was supposed to be there from who shouldn’t have been. At least Bradley wasn’t near hysteria anymore. The look on his face as he’d realized that his paintings were gone had broken Ryan’s heart.
He imagined that the art was more precious to his submissive than anything else in the loft. Bradley was going to freak when he saw the special room Ryan was thinking of converting for Bradley’s use when he stayed at his house. Whoa, cowboy. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Trainers usually had a room where they let subs stay, but they didn’t remake an existing room for any one sub’s tastes. It just wasn’t practical. There is nothing practical about the way I am acting and feeling toward him. He sighed. Why did he feel like Bradley had won some kind of epic battle that had completely gone over Ryan’s head?
He stomped back to the ruined bathroom and started sorting through half the bottles he’d tossed around in his desperate search for slick. There was no reason that anyone should need five different shampoos, toothpastes, and hair gel. Not to mention all the vitamins that littered the floor. Why couldn’t he take one multivitamin like everyone else?
The sound of shuffling and movement made him pause his search. “Bradley, are you a
ll right?”
“Fine, Sir,” Bradley called back, sounding distracted. What was he doing? He poked his head out of the door and was astounded by what he saw. Bradley had dragged out three sketchbooks from God knew where and had them positioned around him in a semicircle. He had a piece of broken charcoal in his fist and was furiously working on the first one. As quietly as possible, Ryan moved back into the room to watch as Bradley descended into another level of consciousness that Ryan had never seen before. It went beyond submission. It was submission, sex, and art all in one.
Ryan may have majored in art and may have worked as a tattoo artist for a living, but he wasn’t really an artist. The art didn’t suck him in and engross him like it had done to some of the other people he had the privilege of attending university with. He felt the energy surrounding him with a unique blend of subspace and an artist’s mind. It was striking.
Without looking up, Bradley spoke. “It feels like three pieces in a collection. The first canvas is the start of it.” Ryan wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking at, but he nodded all the same. “I need paints. Do you have paints at your house?”
“We can stop by The Brush on the way there. We pass right by it.” The Brush was the art store that supplied a lot of the university students, and it was also where Ryan got most of his at-home supplies as well.
Bradley nodded. “I need to get these out soon. I don’t want to lose the feeling.”
“What feeling?” Ryan asked, curious. Bradley’s eyes were bright, passionate. He was beautiful.
“Submission, sex, you. All of it. It’s right here.” He touched his paint-smeared chest. “I need to get it out.”
Ryan nodded. This was an interesting expression of subspace if he’d ever seen one. The euphoria was translating into creative energy. “I’ve got your things together. Put on your pants and the shirt you were wearing and we can go.”
Bradley blinked. “Oh yeah. Getting dressed is kinda necessary huh?”
He chuckled. “Yes, sweet. It is.”
“Ry?”
“Yes?”
“Did you like it?”
“Did I like what?” Ryan asked.
“Did you like the spanking and the sex?”
Ryan’s body tried to stir at the memory. “Yes, sweet. I loved it. Now get dressed.”
“Can we do it again?” Bradley asked as he gathered up his things. His shirt went on first and then he winced as he pulled up the pants. The spanking was probably still smarting.
“Which part?”
“Both. All of it. More?”
Ryan laughed. “Eager, pup. We’ll explore more. Not all of it tonight. You need to paint remember?”
“Oh. Oh yeah. That’s right.” He pushed his feet into his shoes. “I’m ready.”
I don’t know if I am, Bradley. But here we go.
* * * *
“Get what you need,” Ryan commanded as they walked up the curb to The Brush. “I have canvases, so just get whatever else you need.”
“Big canvases?”
“They are my specialty,” Ryan said dryly. Yeah, Bradley in headspace was freaking adorable. He was wide eyed, innocent, and eager. The combination was the most alluring thing Ryan had ever seen.
The owner of the shop, a wolf a little taller than Bradley named Xander, came around the corner of one of the aisles and waved a hand in greeting. “Hey, Bradley. How’s it goin’, man?” He was a beautiful man. A thin swimmer’s build, tanned skin, dark-chocolate hair, and amethyst eyes made an alluring picture. He was also an experienced submissive who wouldn’t ask for anything in return for Ryan’s attentions. Too bad he wasn’t even remotely interested. No. His current tastes ran more in the direction of a mouthy little stalker who had been told by a metaphysical being that the two of them were mates.
Bradley looked up, looking thoroughly distracted. “Gotta get a painting out. I need reds. Lots of reds. And orange. Flecks of cadmium yellow, too.”
Xander chuckled. “Right on. You know where it’s at.” His eyes locked on Ryan. “Hello, beta. How are you?”
Ryan glanced over at Bradley, who disappeared down another aisle, to make sure he didn’t hear the purr in that tone. Xander was one of the pack submissives who had been with his brother. “I’m Ryan, Xander. Not Regan.”
“Ah,” Xander said, pouting. “Sorry. He just rarely comes around anymore. I thought maybe he was angling for a three-way.”
Ryan shook his head. “No can do. I’m training that one.” He motioned toward Bradley, who was no doubt filling his hands and the small shopping basket to capacity. “Whatever he buys, put it on my tab.”
Xander nodded. “I will. So you’re training, huh? He must be the one I’ve been hearing so much about. There are rumors that he’s your mate. Any truth to it?”
Ryan shrugged, not committing either way. “People love to gossip.”
“I see,” Xander said, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You haven’t been in here in a while either. You still working canvas?”
“Some. Not much lately. I started working some metal art with Regan recently, and that seems to be more where the muse is at. There and in the ink of course.” They had quite a setup in the backyard. He was sure Bradley would appreciate it when he came out of headspace.
Xander tucked his hair behind one ear. “Of course. I imagine being a beta for a large pack and working the shop takes some considerable time out of your artistic schedule. Will you tell your brother that I’d like to talk to him, please?”
Ryan nodded. He would pass the message along. There was a pause in the shuffling of things in the next aisle over. “What’s the problem, Bradley?”
The mournful reply was cute. “I don’t have enough money for all this.” He couldn’t have that much stuff.
“Excuse me for a second, Xander,” he said, turning away from the pack submissive.
Xander chuckled. “No problem, beta. Take your time. Your new boy always spends an ungodly amount of time making his mind up over paints and ends up spending too much money in the process. You guys have fun. I’ll be in the back working on a piece myself.”
Ryan waved, not hearing half of what he said. “Bradley, where are you, sweet?”
“Right here.”
That was incredibly informative. He circled the aisle and didn’t spot Bradley at first, but his eyes zeroed in on the boy sitting on the floor with at least twenty tubes of paint spread out in front of him with double the number of brushes as paints. There were also several sketch pads and implements for those as well.
Bradley was glaring at his choices like they would suddenly cost less if he stared at them long enough. “Why are they so expensive?”
“To torment you apparently.” Ryan tilted his head, doing a quick calculation in his head. “You can get all of them. I’ll cover the cost since it was my stalker that wrecked your things.” Speaking of which. He needed to text Regan and get him to send a cleaning service to the apartment and contact the owner to make sure it was all right. He’d replace the windows himself if the insurance didn’t cover it.
Bradley looked up, blinked. “You sure?”
Ryan nodded. “Of course. Just get them all and let’s go. I want to get home.” It had been a long day, and he had plans for his beautiful submissive for the night if he could drag him away from his paintings long enough.
“Okay. Okay. Sorry. I just…this feeling is so big, you know?”
He nodded. He did know but not in the same way Bradley did. New subs were always so fascinated with the world from the perspective of the submissive. As a Dom, his high was a little different, but it was still just as powerful. He felt a bit like God, actually. The control made him buzzed in a way that made him overprotective and very much “mine” about his sub. Maybe that was why the word repeated itself in regular intervals since he’d taken Bradley.
They gathered his things off the floor, and Ryan carried it over to the register. “So are you still sore?” he asked, his voice low to not alert the othe
r wolf to their conversation.
Bradley actually blushed. “A little. Not too bad. Just a dull ache. Is that good?”
“Very good.” It meant they could play more later.
Regan’s voice came into his mind suddenly. “He isn’t the type of submissive you let walk out of your life, bro.”
“Xander is looking for you,” Ryan said, ignoring the words and their implications. “Can you contact the cleaning company Mustang uses and get them to do Bradley’s place? I’ll text you the address.”
Regan snorted. “Yeah. Fine. No problem. Speaking of the Alpha, he’s looking for you. Has some information about your boy and his wolf.”
Ryan winced at the reminder. He’d almost forgotten what Dean had said about his submissive being a wolf.
“You know, it’s rude to have a conversation when someone is talking to you,” Bradley cut in, annoyance thick in his voice. “I was asking you a question.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you. Regan just—” He frowned. “How the hell did you know I was talking to someone?”
Bradley shrugged. “I felt it. It’s like he’s a part of you, and when he is in your head I can feel him, too.”
“Told you I felt him through our bond. That is some freaky shit right there.”
“Shut up,” Ryan snapped. “You’re not helping.” Bradley looked like he’d been slapped, and he immediately regretted his words. “I wasn’t talking to you, sweet. I was talking to my smartass brother. Shh, I didn’t mean to yell.” He pulled his submissive into his arms and stroked down his back in soothing motions. He kissed the top of his head. He never wanted to put that look of hurt on Bradley’s face again. That nearly tore his heart out.
“He’s your mate, Ry. Claim him.”
He was about to growl something appropriately Fuck-off-ish, but the connection went blank as Regan drew away from him. He sighed.