by Sean Michael
“Those are sore.”
He didn’t think it was a complaint. “I bet.” He flicked the right one again, still jacking Giles lazily.
“H...hey. Stop. Just for a minute.”
He froze, nuzzling Giles’ cheek. “You have a minute.”
“What?” Giles took a deep breath, stepped away from him.
“You said you needed a minute. You have a minute.”
“Okay...” Giles nodded, grabbed an ancient, stained coffee cup. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“You want a minute to make a cup of coffee?” Giles wasn’t getting any more minutes.
He got that stubborn, stubborn look. “I could go lock myself in the bathroom.”
“Why would you do that?”
Giles’ head tilted, those clever eyes dancing. “I have no idea, but it sounds dramatic, doesn’t it?”
He chuckled. “It does. It sounds like high drama. This is more fun.” He dragged Giles back into his arms, kissing him.
Giles’ arms wrapped around his shoulders, the man holding him close. He rubbed their bellies together, smiling at the heat from Giles’ hard prick. Not going to come again. Right. The man was going to come all over both of them.
He tangled his fingers in Giles’ hair, tilting his lover back. Growling a little, he scraped his teeth along Giles’ throat.
“Oh. I. Is my minute up?” Giles’ head fell back.
“It is. You’re mine again. No more minutes.”
“No more minutes...”
“None.” He took Giles’ mouth again, grabbing the sweet ass in his palms. He needed to take Giles home, keep him for a few days, keep him for a few thousand days while they explored each other. “You need to come back home with me.” He was going to turn Giles inside out and then right side in again.
“But I was working.” And Giles had worked. There were three canvases covered in paint.
“And now you’re taking a break. I’m going to make you come and then drag you out to ravish you all over again.”
“Ravish. That is a fabulous word.”
“It is, isn’t it? So is luscious, and that is what you are, G.” He grabbed both ass cheeks and squeezed. They made the word luscious come to mind, too.
“You’re a distraction.” Giles moaned, rubbed, tongue flicking his lips.
“No, I’m your focus.”
Giles shook his head but didn’t answer, choosing to kiss him instead. Now that was focus. Chuckling, he deepened the kiss, and Giles opened like a dream, spreading for him.
He found the sweet nipples again, like his fingers were drawn to them, and Giles pulled away from him, or tried to. Sweet boy. He twisted the rings, knowing Giles’ nipples were already tender.
“Don’t.” Giles panted, stepping back again, the coffee cup landing hard on the counter.
“Oh, I think yes.” He tweaked the nipple itself this time instead of the ring.
“I. I fuck. Don’t.” Giles was panting for him.
He didn’t bother answering this time, just tweaked the other nipple, and Giles’ hands wrapped around his wrists, tugging at him. He didn’t let that stop him, though, and he grabbed hold of Giles’ left nipple, tugging on it.
“Sh...shit. Shit. Stop. Oh, fuck.”
“It’s good, hmm?” He tugged again, then grabbed the other nipple.
“Yeah...” Giles’ lips opened, moan filling the air.
“That’s right.” He took one of the rings and twisted it.
“Fuck me. That hurts. Fuck me.” Giles’ fingers squeezed his wrists.
“You need it.” It wasn’t a question -- he knew.
“No. No, I. Fuck...”
“You need it.” He repeated the words, twisting the other nipple ring. He’d seen the cuts, the scars. He knew Giles craved the pain, needed it on a deep level.
“NO!” Giles threw his head back, screamed.
He dug his nail into the hard little nub of flesh. He could smell the spunk in the air. “God, I love that.”
Giles slumped in his arms, blinked at him.
“Love that look, too. Right there.” Totally melted and spaced out. Because of him.
He gathered Giles up, headed toward the little sleeping area. Curling up on Giles’ small futon again, he tucked his lover’s head beneath his chin. Long arms wrapped around him, holding on to him.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He knew Giles needed to hear that and at his words Giles squeezed him, held on tight. “I’m not going anywhere at all.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” It was the easiest promise Harrison had ever made.
Chapter Seven
“I don’t know if this is a great idea. I didn’t stay at the studio last night, and I’ve napped a long time.” It couldn’t be healthy.
Harrison opened the door in the garage, a bag of clothes in one hand, and pointed up the stairs.
“I think that I have to work. I could come tomorrow and see you. You said I could draw you.”
“You can draw me here. I have a sketch pad and charcoals, pencils. Go on. You like my house, remember?”
“I do. You have an amazing bathroom...” Giles headed upstairs, chewing his bottom lip on the way. “And I like you, but I have to work a lot.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because.” That’s what he did. It kept him sane.
“Well, now you work a lot and you play a lot with me.”
He snorted, came into the big kitchen, hands on the counter. It felt amazing, the cold on his hands.
“We’re going to eat, sleep, play. You can sketch a little. And next week we can talk about whether you’re ready to go back to work.”
He stopped, hands stuttering. “N...next? What? No. No, I can’t. I have to. No. That won’t.” Panic hit him square in the belly.
“Shh.” Harrison grabbed his arms, fingers digging in.
“I. I have to...” That solid silence hit him again and his knees went weak.
Magic. Harrison was magic.
Harrison pressed up against his back, so hot and solid. “Hungry, G?”
He shook his head. “We ate today. I remember.”
“You do know that most people have breakfast, lunch, and dinner, not to mention snacks in between, right?”
He shrugged. He wasn’t most people. “Did you know there are people who live off the air alone?”
Harrison snorted. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s true!” He’d read about it on his laptop.
“I would be very surprised to find out that it’s true.” Harrison nuzzled his neck.
He went to Harrison’s laptop at the end of the counter and started typing. “Look. Airitarians. I’m not making it up.”
One of Harrison’s eyebrows went up. “This has to be a joke.”
“It’s not. It’s right there.” He tapped on the screen, rolling his eyes as the sensations Harrison were making got bigger.
“Just because it’s on the Internet doesn’t mean it’s real. Think about it, G.”
“It’s real. I’m not one, but if you do it right, you never have to eat again.”
“That’s bullshit.”
He pulled away, stung. “Says who?” Asshole.
“Come on, G. Think about it. What would happen if people never ate? Ever?”
He considered that. “You’d have lots of time to paint.”
“You wouldn’t have the energy to lift the paintbrush.”
Okay, now the argument was getting fun. “You wouldn’t have to poop anymore.”
Harrison chuckled and tugged him close. “It’s got to have more going for it than that.”
“You’re laughing at me.”
“No, I am laughing at the Airitarians.”
“What if they’
re real? What if you’re missing out?” He wondered about things like that a lot.
“As long as I’m not missing out on you, I’ll live.”
“Flatterer.”
“No, it’s just the truth.”
Giles blushed for Harrison, head ducking. Harrison put a finger under his chin and raised his head, bringing their mouths together. The kisses were easier than talking. Better. Hot. Harrison groaned, filling his mouth with heat and tongue, and Giles relaxed into it, lips opening.
Hands grabbing his ass, Harrison dragged them even closer together, hot even through the layers of their clothing. He tried to chuckle. Harrison was the horniest man he’d ever met. Ever.
The kisses continued. So did the heat and the sexiness and that blessed silence. Giles found himself swaying, melted, caught.
“I’m going to take you to my playroom. I’ve got these great chains attached to the ceiling. You’ll look incredible hanging from them.”
“Your what?”
“Playroom. Dungeon. Call it what you’d like.”
He frowned. Dungeon. That sounded... distressing.
Harrison chuckled. “Come and see -- it isn’t what you’re thinking.”
“Okay.” He’d at least go see.
They went to the back of the house into a bright room, the light coming in through huge, frosted glass windows.
“I love the light in here.” He lifted his face to the sun.
“You see? It’s nice.”
There were several padded tables and a padded bench, a large bed in one corner with a wide armchair next to it. There were drawers and a wardrobe, all in light colors. It didn’t seem like a dungeon at all. Giles relaxed. This place wasn’t scary. He thought, maybe, Harrison was still exaggerating the whole weird-sex thing. “It is.”
“Bright and clean. The only thing dungeon-like are the chains.” Harrison pointed up, and, oh my God, there were actually chains hanging there.
Giles looked, fascinated. “What do you do with them?”
“I’m going to hang you from them. It’ll stretch you nice and tall, expose every inch of you to my will.”
“Aren’t they dangerous?” They looked a little dangerous.
“No. I can adjust the height so you’re not literally hanging from them.”
“Oh.” He didn’t think so. “Can you show me how they work?”
“Yeah, of course.” Harrison went to the wall and undid a rope that was tied to a hook in the wall, lowering the chains. Then he came over and took Giles’ hand, put one of the cuffs attached to the chains around it. The cuff was soft, supple, very comfortable where it cradled his wrist.
“Not so bad, huh?” Harrison put his other wrist in the second cuff.
“I. No. No, they’re soft.” He tugged a little. “You fastened them.”
“I did.” Harrison smiled at him, kissed him, and then went to the wall and started pulling the chains up again.
Wait. “I. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea.”
The chains drew his hands up over his head. “I don’t know...” That was a touch terrifying.
Harrison kept pulling on the chains until he was stretched up, feet barely on the ground.
“I do, though. You’re stunning.” Harrison came back over to him and a warm hand dragged over his belly.
“Let me go, huh?”
“No.” Harrison kept touching him, hands sliding along his skin.
“I don’t--” This was intense.
Harrison bent and licked his collarbone, then his right nipple. Giles stepped back, but couldn’t go anywhere. Harrison took the nipple ring between his teeth and tugged.
“Oh.” Giles rocked back and forth on his toes.
Harrison didn’t let go of his nipple ring, and it tugged hard as he moved. He bit his bottom lip, tried to stay still. Fuck, that burned.
“You’re wearing too many clothes for the chains,” Harrison told him.
“The chains care?”
His lover chuckled. “No, I imagine that’s me.”
Giles tugged at the cuffs. “Let me go and I’ll undress.”
“No, I can undress you like this.” Harrison began to undo his jeans.
He sucked in, eyes on the strong fingers touching his belly. Harrison had to be doing it on purpose, the way those fingers were touching him all over. “Your fingers are warm.”
“All the better to touch you with.” The tips of Harrison’s fingers slid over his cock.
“You’re not the big, bad wolf.”
Harrison was surprisingly dear, even with all that insistence that he was Dom.
“No, I’m your big, bad top.” His jeans’ button was undone, the zipper pulled down.
“I don’t think you’re bad. I think you’re sweet.”
Harrison chuckled. “I imagine you’re the first person to tell the man who’s chained him to the ceiling that he’s sweet.”
“You have been.”
“I’ve been good to you.” Harrison pulled his cock out of his pants and started jacking lazily. “I’ve given you what you need.”
“Yes. You like to have sex a lot.”
“So do you.”
He did, although he didn’t think he’d ever had so much sex with anyone, even himself. Harrison tugged his jeans down his legs, leaving them around his ankles. He frowned, tried to kick the jeans off, but it was awkward and his feet were caught.
“Leave them.” Harrison’s hands slid up under his T-shirt, headed straight for his rings.
“My feet are caught.” He shifted around, stumbling.
“You don’t need them.”
“I’ll fall down.” This was scary.
“You can’t fall down. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“I... Fuck.” He tugged a little, heartbeat speeding.
“Yes, I might.” Harrison tweaked his right nipple ring again.
“I don’t like this.” This was unnerving.
“I’ve got you off balance.” Harrison smiled.
“Yes.” Now that they understood each other, Harrison would let him go.
“Good.” His T-shirt was pulled up over his head, Harrison’s lips latching on to his left nipple.
“I. Wait. That’s not...” Oh, God. Good. Harrison sucked rhythmically, each tug going straight to his cock. The ache was almost unbearable. Almost.
One of Harrison’s hands slid around his cock, squeezing him, and then jacking to the same rhythm as the suction around his tit.
“I--” His head fell back, and he moaned.
“There you go. Feels good, huh?”
He didn’t answer. Harrison’s thumbnail slid over his slit and he jerked, moaned. “Yes!”
“Sweet boy.”
Him? Sweet boy?
“Gonna come for me.” It wasn’t a question, the way Harrison said it.
“I...” That touch came again, hard on his slit, burning. “Yes.”
Harrison smiled, the look wicked, sexy, hand moving on him. Every time Harrison’s thumb reached the tip of his cock, that nail rubbed. Over and over, the touch made him jump.
“Fuck. Fuck...” He loved that, loved slit play.
“Needy. So needy. I love it.”
“You keep touching.” Of course he needed. Everyone needed, but he got so little human contact.
“And I’m not going to stop. I’m going to touch and touch and touch.”
His hips began to buck, roll, the words echoing in his head.
“Oh, look at you.”
“You keep talking!” He was going to scream.
“I’m not just talking, though.”
None of this made sense. None of it. It was all crazy. Harrison slid his hands up along Giles’ arms. Up ov
er his head, up to where the chains held him. Oh. Oh, Harrison was going to let him go. Harrison’s fingers slipped right up to his fingertips, then back down again, massaging his arms.
He frowned when those hands moved down. He thought...
“No frowning, this is good.” Harrison’s mouth slid over his jaw and then pressed against his mouth. Harrison was big, muscled, solid against him, and still mostly dressed. There was something... hot about being naked while Harrison wasn’t, the rub of cloth against his skin, the scrape of buttons.
“I...” He didn’t know what to do. Not at all.
“G. All you have you have to is stand there. And feel.”
“I’m a little wigged.”
“Only a little?”
“Maybe a lot.”
“Okay.” Harrison kissed him again, hot and heavy.
Okay. How was this okay, exactly? He opened up, tongue sliding against Harrison’s.
“I’m gonna work you over, G. I’ve got a pretty little flogger that’s going to feel so good.”
His eyes went wide; his cock jerked. “Good? You promise?”
“Yes. It’s going to hurt so damn good. It’ll be exactly what you need.”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Whatever you want.”
Harrison gave him another kiss and went to one of the wardrobes, opening it. He looked up at the cuffs. They were hooked together with buckles. He could probably unfasten one, if he worked at it really hard. Harrison was back before he could even try, leather in his hand. Giles looked at the thing, unnerved, shaking his head. “Let me down.”
“It’s going to be good, Giles. You’re going to learn to crave it instead of the cutting.”
“I don’t want to do this.” The sounds in his head were loud suddenly, blaring.
“No, and I imagine you don’t want to do the cutting either, but you do it.”
He started panting, wigging out.
“Someone’s thinking too hard.” Harrison’s mouth covered his, tongue pushing right in.
Giles went still, the sudden silence almost unbearable. Almost. The kisses didn’t stop, Harrison deepening them instead, hands sliding on his back. One hand still held the leather, drawing it along his skin. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to relax, but he did. He had to. The kisses went on and on, Harrison just... everywhere.