Ties that Bind (Men of Honor)

by SE Jakes

  “From what I knew of him, he didn’t like the young ones.”

  “No, he didn’t. But he liked me.” Glen’s face glowed with pride.

  “I can see why.” He tried to picture Glen on that first night, young and scared and still willing to try anything. And then he realized with a start that, even though John wasn’t around any longer, he still didn’t want to picture this boy—his boy—with anyone but him. Where that sudden surge came from he had no clue, but it startled him. Must’ve shown on his face, because Glen asked, “You all right, Derek?”

  “Just having a hard time picturing you with anyone but me,” he said honestly. “But I’m okay with you talking about it. I think you have to.”

  Glen nodded. “I never really have, with anyone. Kept a lot in, with good reason. It’s private stuff.”

  “You said you tried subbing with someone else after him.”

  Glen’s face hardened, almost imperceptibly. His hand tightened around the beer and he took a long drink before nodding yes. Then said, “It was a year after John died. I thought I was ready.”

  “Too soon.”

  “It wasn’t too soon. He was the wrong guy. You have no idea how wrong.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “Are you a one-man rescue machine?” Glen demanded.

  The boy would bend for him. How Glen would look, tied, arms and legs, helpless, had make Derek jack off twice in the shower.

  If the look of complete pleasure at his orgasm last night plus his submissive compliance was any indication, Derek knew he was correct.

  “Isn’t that what you want?” Derek asked calmly, partially enjoying the confusion on Glen’s face. “Boy, you’ve got a mouth on you. Between that and your earlier Marine comment, I’m thinking you really want me to take you in hand.”

  Glen opened his mouth but a soft huff came out instead of words. If Derek reached for his crotch, he was certain he’d find Glen hard as hell. He passed his keys across the table. “Go start the truck—I’ll be out after I pay. And no more mouth from you.”

  Glen bit his bottom lip and waited for a long moment before he moved out of the booth, shoved his hands in his pockets, and Derek forced himself not to smile at the boy’s discomfort.

  He took his time paying the bill, hit the head, then ambled out into the nice, warm car. Didn’t say anything more than a few directions until they got to the woods behind his house. All his property. No one would bother him on his own land, but Glen wouldn’t know that.

  When Glen parked, Derek told him, “Get in the back.”

  He’d already put the second row of seats down to give them more room, had done so before he’d driven to the bar just in case.

  Glen gave him a hesitant glance before gracefully getting into the back.

  “Clothes off. On your hands and knees, facing the back. Spread your legs.”

  He watched in the rearview mirror to see Glen doing as he asked. Only then did he join him. Rubbed a hand over the boy’s back and down over his ass. “Nice.”

  He leaned forward and bound Glen’s wrists with leather straps that were soft on the inside and would leave no marks, and then chained them hard to the latch so Glen couldn’t move them at all. Forced into position with no out, Glen groaned when he realized it.

  The sound shot through Derek more effectively than a hand on his cock. His beautiful boy, tied, all for his pleasure.

  He ran his tongue down the boy’s spine, starting at his neck and ending at the crack of his ass. Stopped short of breaching where they both wanted him to go, heard the grunt of frustration as he worked his body over Glen’s.

  “Hope the cops don’t come through to find you like this,” he whispered as he ground his jean-clad cock against Glen’s bare ass, the fabric touching the sensitive hole. “All spread, giving yourself to me. What would you tell them—that this is exactly what you want?”

  Glen nodded.

  “Tell me,” he demanded.

  “It’s what I want.”

  “Because you were bad?”

  “Yes, very.”

  “On purpose.”

  “Yes.” A hard swallow. “I wanted this. Please.”

  “Then don’t move.”

  The boy’s body was tensed up from so many different emotions, the least of which was sexual need. This was about being tied, the anticipation, and Derek drew it out by taking off his shirt and unzipping his jeans slowly. Put a condom on and grabbed some lube from the front seat. Watched Glen try to steady his body as his cock hung in the air, no doubt wanting any kind of friction and finding none.

  When Glen finally stilled, he slapped Glen’s ass twice—hard slaps to each cheek—and heard the low gasp of pleasure. A third and fourth rang through the air and Glen cursed and received two more, even as Derek kept a firm hand on the boy’s lower back.

  He moved to top Glen, so his cock rubbed along the seam of Glen’s ass, brushed his hole with the promise of the fucking he was about to get.

  “I can do anything I want to you,” Derek whispered, ran a hand in Glen’s hair. “Little boy would like that, wouldn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” Glen’s voice was husky, heavy with every wish he held.

  “Spread your legs farther,” Derek ordered, and Glen complied. He spread some lube on his fingers and his cock, worked one then two inside Glen while still remaining mostly on top of him. Moved them in and out, brushing his prostate a couple of times—loving the responses he was getting. “I want you ready for me. Begging for it.”

  “Please.” It was more a growl than a plea, a demand that couldn’t be ignored. The space was small with their two bodies—and between his covering Glen’s and the fact that his wrists were tied, he was giving Glen the experience of being totally immobile. He pushed inside, heard Glen’s sharp intake of breath.

  “You’re big…so goddamned big,” he said finally when Derek was halfway inside.

  “And I’m not stopping. You don’t want me to.”

  “God, yes, keep going,” Glen breathed as Derek pushed the rest of the way in until he was buried up to his balls inside the boy. Glen was so damned tight and hot, his ass contracting around Derek’s cock, milking him without Derek even having to move. But Glen wanted him to move, pushed back into his cock as much as he could and murmured, “Derek…”

  It was part plea, part prayer, and with that, Derek pinned him down hard and took him fast. Glen, having no quarter or choice in how he was being claimed, simply put his head down and let himself be ridden the way Derek wanted to.

  “Don’t you come yet,” he told Glen as he slammed his prostate repeatedly, watched the tension in Glen’s back begin to dissipate just from the way he was being held.

  “Touch my cock—I need that,” he begged in a raw voice and Derek did as he asked since he was taking so much, trusting so well. Stroked the boy’s hard member in tandem with the fucking until he felt his balls tighten and knew he couldn’t hang on much longer.

  “Come now—right goddamned now,” he told Glen, who shot his load all over Derek’s hand. In turn, Derek pumped his load inside of Glen, filling the condom. Wishing he didn’t have to pull out, wanting to remain in place as long as possible. Finally, he moved and took the condom off. Wrapped and tossed it into a plastic bag.

  He kissed the back of Glen’s neck, listened to him breathe until it went from riotous to calm. “In the restaurant, when I said you got involved too soon after John, I wasn’t judging you. But a year’s grief for what you had wasn’t enough—you didn’t make a choice based on your needs. You made a choice based on loneliness.”

  Glen swallowed hard, asked, “How do you know that?”

  “Because I did the same thing,” he admitted. “We deserve time to heal. We don’t always allow it because it’s easier to be with someone else than to hurt.”

  With his head still buried in his arms, Glen said, “I want to know more about that…when you’re ready to tell me.”

  He would share, but not tonight. Instead, he re
ached forward and undid the cuffs and the lock and helped Glen turn over. The boy would be stiff for a little while, and he rubbed the circulation back into his arms as Glen stared up at him, his stomach covered with come.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured. “Let me take you back to the house and clean you up.”

  Chapter Four

  Although it appeared that Derek was asking him, it was part command. Still, Glen got the feeling he’d be allowed to refuse, because Derek waited for him to nod his consent.

  “Stay here. I’ll drive us to the house.”

  Glen complied, mainly because he was too damned content to move. His limbs sang from the bindings, his ass burned and his mind was finally quiet.

  The truck crunched over snow and leaves, and out the windows, Glen watched them come out of the woods and felt the car find pavement.

  In less than two minutes, they were pulling into a garage. Derek got out and opened the hatch to let Glen out that way, still naked. “We were on my property the whole time. You were always safe. I’ll never do anything to interfere with your career.”

  That warmed Glen more than he already was. He let Derek help him out—the chill inside the garage felt good on his skin, and for a moment, he stood there letting the night air wash over him. Then Derek tugged him inside and brought him upstairs.

  The house was sparingly lit, but Glen caught sight of brown leather couches and comfortable surroundings. Upstairs, he was directed to get into the king-sized bed with the metal headboard perfect for binding someone and damn, he was hard again.

  “Someone wants to be fucked again, don’t they?”

  “Yes.” God, the one word was a definite plea—he couldn’t hide it.

  Derek swiped the precome from Glen’s cock and used it to wet the head, stroked him until his hips rose and fell on the mattress.

  It was good, but he wanted Derek back on top of him, holding him, fucking him until he couldn’t see past the pleasure. So he spread his legs and reached up to grip the headboard’s rungs, holding on tightly, his muscles straining.

  Derek stopped to put on a condom finally. Then he took some soft rope and bound Glen’s wrists over his head. One ankle only, because he took Glen’s other thigh and bent it so he could really get inside of him deeply.

  And he did go deep, entered him in one long stroke, all while holding Glen’s leg to optimize the pleasure for Glen. But he kept his thrusts deliberately paced, until Glen wanted to claw the ceiling with frustration. Couldn’t do much but lie there and take it, which of course made him harder than ever. “You want it faster?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s up to me, right? And you like it when I take your control away.”

  Glen nodded, teeth clenched. Because his wants were fighting one another right now, and he was confused and horny and his skin felt too tight. He was sweating, his body ached for more, and he heard himself whisper, “Fuck me, daddy.”

  Derek froze for a millisecond and then bucked up into him, hard, groaning as his body responded to those words as if they had an uncontrollable pull. Completely lost it, fucked him until Glen saw stars, cried out Derek’s name and came in hot spurts on their stomachs.

  And for the first time in a long time—maybe ever—Glen wished his wrists weren’t bound, so he could wrap his arms around Derek’s shoulders to hold the man while they both came. Wondered what the hell that was all about, even as his body still came down from the high of the orgasm.

  Derek remained on top of him, only letting Glen’s leg drop. Dammit, his body began to tremble all over from everything that had happened that night, like he was finally letting down all his guards.

  When Derek felt his shaking, he immediately undid the bindings and pulled Glen close, holding him tighter than ropes ever could. “Relax—you’re safe. Really goddamned safe.”

  He stoked Glen’s hair until all that remained was comfort. And he was comfortable, even knowing this man for less than forty-eight hours. He’d made good on his promises—Glen bore no marks and had had no punishments he hadn’t been begging for.

  Finally, Derek lifted his head, his cheeks flushed from exertion and asked, “Who told you I liked that?”

  Glen smiled and buried his face against his shoulder. Murmured, “I have my sources.”

  “I like that you asked about me. But you’re so getting put over my knee for it. In fact, I think that makes at least two spankings I owe you, because the one in the car didn’t count.”

  It counted for Glen because the slaps had been hard enough that he could still feel them, even on the soft sheets. But he wasn’t about to complain, instead traced small circles on the bare skin of Derek’s shoulder. “That drove you nuts. Loved watching you lose it like that.”

  “Bet you did.” Derek kept him so close. “I want you to stay tonight. Will you be able to sleep or should I drive you home? I want you safe in the air, and I know that means regular sleep.”

  Glen looked at him and knew the man did really mean it.

  This man got it—and him—and that scared him more than anything. “I think I’ll be okay to stay.”

  “Good.” He went to the bathroom and came back with a washcloth to wipe Glen’s stomach. “You can shower in the morning. I want you to smell me on you all night.”

  Glen got hard and figured that if he didn’t start gaining some self-control, he’d come whenever Derek started talking.

  “Come on.” Derek shifted to move the covers and Glen got in next to him. There were no orders but Derek was still in control, and fuck, Glen liked that, liked the way the man ordered him around and made him come.

  “Can I ask you something?” he asked, heard the sleep in his own voice but resisted it for a while longer.

  “Yes.”

  “Before, when I told you my…needs…” He paused. “Do you have any?”

  “Of course.”

  Glen stopped his mind from racing ahead to what they could possibly be and whether or not he’d be able to comply with them. But Derek put a calming hand on the back of Glen’s neck and kissed him for a few minutes, his tongue stroking gently along Glen’s.

  When he pulled away, he told Glen, “The rules I have aren’t for you. They’re for me. My rule is to keep you happy.”

  “Keep me happy?” Glen repeated.

  “It’s not my responsibility to make you happy. Once you’re there, I’ll keep you that way.” Derek paused. “When we’re playing, I don’t want you to think you can’t stop it. But I like pushing you beyond what you think are your limits. Because I think you need that.”

  Glen thought so too.

  Derek let him sleep the next morning, fucked him twice before they got into the shower. Spent a lazy Sunday together that went much faster than Glen would’ve liked. They ate. Watched a couple of movies.

  When Derek dropped him off at home, they had each other’s cell and home numbers. No other promises spoken, but they were there, bonding them already in the short time they’d been together.

  Still, he hadn’t told Derek he was leaving for a mission in the morning and had no idea when he’d be back. He knew Derek would understand why he had to disappear. But they were still so new… Derek didn’t know his patterns.

  The man could think Glen had disappeared. And so, on the way to the base on Monday morning, he left Derek a note in his mailbox. No email trail, just a simple drawing of his gold wings that he was pretty sure Derek would understand.

  Derek found the drawing of the wings in his box that next afternoon. Fingered it—smiled that the boy cared enough to let him know he was on mission status. Said a few prayers for Glen and threw himself into his work until the boy returned.

  Chapter Five

  Glen had been gone for nearly three weeks. The clandestine mission in the mountains of Afghanistan had him doing constant pickups and a lot of waiting around for the SEALs to gather their intel. Osama was dead, but there was still a lot of cleanup in the area to contend with. He was on constant call, sleeping
little, flying and firing at the same time. All in all, a successful mission.

  When the team returned to the States, they spent days debriefing. Going over every detail to see what they could’ve changed and why. It was probably one of the most important parts of the job, and when it was over, Glen went home and slept for twenty-four hours straight. Woke to darkness. Eleven at night on a Saturday.

  He glanced at his phone, thought about calling Derek but decided he’d rather surprise him instead. Showered, dressed and called a cab in the hopes that Derek would be the one driving him home that night.

  He scanned the lot as the cab drove in, exhaled when he saw Derek’s truck. He went in through the back, hoping to avoid contact with a lot of the men. Coming back from a mission, he was always twitchy. This time, more so, probably because he wasn’t sure how Derek would react to his having been gone for so long.

  Of course, the first goddamned person he saw was Mark, the Dom he’d attempted a relationship with the year after John died. A real mistake on a number of levels.

  The man was good-looking, but that wasn’t enough to make up for the amount of pain he’d leveled at Glen. Although it had all occurred years earlier, his insides still ached at the abuse he’d let happen more than once. They’d only been together for a month, at most, before Glen extricated himself and avoided the club—and this entire scene—until the night he’d met Derek.

  “Hey, heard you started coming around again.” Mark held out his hand and Glen shook it reluctantly.

  He tried to look over Mark’s shoulder, but the hallway was dark and he couldn’t make out anyone at the bar. “I’m meeting someone,” he said, tried to step around Mark, who was obviously not wanting to let him pass.

  “Heard you’ve been with Derek,” he said.

  Glen attempted to push past him but Mark planted an open palm against his chest. Glen wasn’t allowed to fight when not in a combat situation. With his training, hitting someone could have deadly consequences and he took that seriously as hell. So he remained in place to hear whatever bullshit Mark wanted to spew and then he’d leave.