Mac swallowed and fought to catch his breath. “Is that what you do to naughty boys? Spank them?”
Russel started undoing his shirt again. “Only if they want me to.”
“With your hand, or…” Mac caught his lower lip between his teeth. He hadn’t seen any spanking toys in Russel’s box.
Russel’s gaze flitted to the drawer beside his bed. “I have a paddle, for extra naughty boys.”
“Oh, God.” Mac was glad he hadn’t come on the spot; that would have been fucking embarrassing. “I’ve never… Oh, fucking hell. I’ve never been spanked.” He winced at the admission.
“Really?” Russel had stopped undressing. He stood with his shirt open, showing off his slim torso. His black skinny jeans had tented, betraying his arousal.
“Is that… a problem?” Mac’s chest tightened.
“Oh, babe, why would it be a problem?”
“Because I don’t want you to think I can’t take it. I want you to spank me.” The admission should have surprised him, but it didn’t.
“I can see that.” Russel dropped his gaze to Mac’s cock for a fraction of a second. “You’re leaking just thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.” Mac wanted it so badly it hurt. “Please. Spank me. Fuck me. Please.”
Russel didn’t move or speak, which felt like pure torture to Mac. He wanted Russel to get naked. He wanted to feel Russel’s palm striking his bare arse. He wanted anything Russel wanted to give him because fuck, he needed him. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anyone so badly.
“Please, Sir?”
“I like it when you beg.” Russel slid his shirt down his arms and dropped it on the floor. He moved to stand in front of Mac again, grasped his face in his hands, and pressed a smouldering kiss to his lips.
Mac raised his arms to try to wrap them around Russel’s legs to pull him close, but the chains forbade the action. He gasped and then settled for resting his hands on Russel’s hips, the rough fabric of the jeans getting in the way of him feeling Russel’s skin against his own.
“Will you finish getting undressed, Sir?” He looked up, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.
“You look so sweet.” Russel jutted his plump lower lip out.
“Please, Sir?”
“You do it.”
Mac didn’t need to be told twice. He popped the button of Russel’s jeans open and pulled the smooth zipper down. Then he slid the jeans and Russel’s underpants down his legs to his ankles in one slow movement. He rested his hands on Russel’s hips again, his thumbs skimming over the soft flesh. His eyes feasted on Russel’s cock, now free and standing hard and proud. His mouth began to water.
“Let me suck you off, Sir.”
“No.”
A disapproving moan escaped Mac’s lips. “Please, Sir. I want to take your cock deep into my throat.” He nudged Russel a little closer to prove how much he wanted him. “I want you to come in my mouth again.”
“Naughty.” Russel tutted.
If this was being naughty, Mac was happy to carry on. He grazed his lips against the head of Russel’s cock, wetting them with the first salty pearls of pre-cum. Russel’s entire body shivered. For a moment, Mac was sure he’d won Russel over. Then Russel’s palm pressed against his forehead, pushing him back.
“Naughty.” Russel’s tone was firmer this time. “On all fours. Now.” He moved away to the chest of drawers.
Every nerve in Mac’s body jangled with desire as he obeyed the order, making sure his arse would be the first thing Russel saw when he turned around again. He looked over his shoulder, watching as Russel pulled a furry pink paddle out of the second drawer and then lube and a condom out of the top drawer. Then he turned around, and his eyes grew wide.
“Oh, my, what a glorious arse you have.” He chuckled. “I’m going to enjoy making it red.”
Mac whimpered with need and waggled his arse. “Please.” He didn’t understand why he wanted this so badly.
“You are so cheeky, babe.”
“It’s because I want you.”
“I can see that.” Russel wandered over and rubbed the flat of the paddle against Mac’s arse, making him shiver.
“Please.”
“We need a safeword.” Russel drew in a sharp breath. “Fuck, we should have talked about this before getting carried away.”
“Tabasco for stop and Whitney for slow down.”
Russel raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve never played like this before?”
“No, but I understand the concept of safewords.” He was practically panting now as his desperation for Russel overwhelmed him.
“I’m curious about your choices.”
“Can’t we discuss them later?”
Russel’s lips parted.
Mac hung his head. “I’m sorry, Sir. I like Tabasco sauce and Whitney Houston songs.” He rushed his explanation out and then thrust his arse back against the soft paddle.
“The fake fur might make it look harmless, but it still stings, you know.”
“I hope it does.”
“Maybe I should start with my hand.”
“I’ve already felt that. I want more, Sir.” He remembered the sting of Russel’s palm against his arse from the other morning. He’d been shocked at first, but then he’d realised he liked it.
“Are you sure you can handle it?” Russel sounded uncertain.
“If I can’t, I’ll let you know. Whitney and Tabasco, remember?”
“Slow down and stop. I remember.” Russel didn’t spank him.
“Do I have to beg?”
“You’re already begging.”
“Then I’ll beg harder. Please, Sir, I fucking need you to spank my arse with your paddle.” He waggled his arse to accentuate his words.
Russel sucked in a breath. “You are such a needy boy.”
“Only for you,” Mac grated out. “I’m desperate for anything you want to do to me. Please.” He whined out the last word and then whimpered like a puppy as he made his eyes large and pleading.
“Needy and irresistible.” Russel rolled his eyes. “I’m totally fucked.” He whispered the words under his breath
Mac wasn’t sure he was supposed to overhear them, but he’d widened his eyes before he could stop himself from betraying the fact that he had. “I was hoping I’d be the one getting fucked,” he said, making light of Russel’s words. Now wasn’t the time to get into another deep and meaningful conversation, not when he had sexy things on his mind.
“Oh, you will be. But first…” Russel raised the paddle high.
Fuck, it stung. Russel smacked Mac hard with the flat of the paddle and then caressed his tender skin with the soft fur. Mac’s nerve endings didn’t know what to think. One second, they were smarting with pain; the next they were responding to the gentle touch. Then Russel smacked him again and again and again, not pausing to administer the gentler treatment until Mac’s arse cheeks felt like they were burning. But not once did he think about using either of his safewords. The thrill that each smack gave him was indescribable and incomparable. He moaned, groaned, and let out a stream of swear words as he welcomed every stinging strike. A churning mess of pleasure and pain thrummed through his body, collecting in his cock. His balls drew up tight, and it was all he could do to hold his orgasm in. Then, instead of the bite of the paddle, he felt Russel’s cool hand caressing his arse. The threat of orgasm abated a little, but not enough to make his cock and balls more comfortable.
“Your arse is so red and hot. Did you like being spanked?”
“I fucking loved it, Sir.”
“I’m glad.” Russel’s tone was tender, though his words were wobbly. He cleared his throat. “Moving on.”
“I can take more.”
“Not tonight, babe.”
“Please, Sir.”
Russel tutted. “Not tonight.”
Mac sagged and huffed out a disappointed sigh.
“Need a break from kneeling?”
> Mac shook his head. “No, Sir.” He loved Russel’s concern for his well-being. He felt a tug on the back of the collar, but when he didn’t feel Russel’s finger grazing against his neck, he guessed there had to be another D-ring.
“I have a leash I can attach to this.”
“Oh, fuck.” It was amazing how much of a turn-on that statement was.
“But I’ll save that for another time.” Russel chuckled and released the collar. “I just want you to get used to wearing it.”
“We’re going to do this again?” Mac’s eyes popped wide, and he couldn’t keep the excitement from his voice.
Russel hummed. “If you want to.”
“Fuck, yes.” Did that sound too needy? Mac didn’t care. He wanted Russel to put a leash on him. Wanted to play whatever games Russel could think of. “When?”
Russel chuckled. “Slow down, babe. I’m not done with you yet.”
“I fucking hope not.”
Russel laughed. “Your mouth has got so filthy. I love it!”
“Let me put it around your cock, Sir.”
“No. Hold still.”
Mac did as he was told, half bracing himself. Russel had said he wouldn’t spank him again, but maybe he’d changed his mind. He wasn’t expecting to feel the warmth of lotion being gently rubbed into his stinging arse. Russel massaged his arse cheeks, slowly and deeply, until Mac’s head was thrown back, his neck stretched, and his eyes rolling back in their sockets from sheer ecstasy. He’d had massages before, but nothing as pleasurable as this.
“You’re trying to make me come before you get inside me,” he accused.
“You can’t handle the build-up? Shame.”
“I can. Just—” He broke off when Russel’s fingertip trailed down his crack and pressed against his hole. “Oh, God.”
“I think you’re thanking the wrong person.”
“Oh, Sir,” Mac bit out as Russel’s slick finger pushed inside him. His muscles clenched around Russel’s finger, and he thrust back against it until Russel’s knuckles knocked against his flesh.
“You’re so desperate for me,” Russel whispered.
“Yes. I want you inside me, Sir.”
“Prove how much you want me.”
Mac arched his back as Russel slipped another finger inside him, before thrusting his arse again. He fucked Russel’s fingers until sweat soaked his back, chest, and face, and he was so desperate to come that he could barely think or breathe. But he couldn’t. If he came, he wouldn’t feel Russel inside him. But at the same time, he couldn’t stop rocking his hips against Russel’s hand. The jangling chains added to his pleasure. He was bound, on his hands and knees, a willing slave to any and all of Russel’s whims, and it undid him.
“Fuck me, Sir,” he pleaded before gritting his teeth to try to stave off his orgasm.
He wasn’t sure he could take much more. Didn’t know how he was still on his aching knees and smarting hands. How his arms and legs were still keeping him upright when it felt like they had turned to jelly. All he wanted was more. More of this. More of Russel. More. More. More. He began to whimper and beg, over and over. “Fuck me, Sir. Please, Sir. Please.”
And then Russel’s fingers were gone, and he felt hollow. He dipped his head to his hands, almost sobbing with the need to release. His entire body quivered as he listened to the familiar sound of a condom packet being ripped open. He wanted to turn his head and watch Russel glove up his cock, but he was too exhausted to move. He curled his fingers into the carpet, which he knew his leaking cock had made a mess of.
Russel tugged on the back of the collar again. “Up.”
Mac obeyed, finding strength from fuck knew where to straighten his arms. Russel’s hands clutched his hips, and Mac felt the head of Russel’s cock pushing against his hole. He thrust back greedily. God, he needed this so much. He had never needed to be taken by a man so badly before. And fuck, did Russel take him. His thrusts were hard, long, and fast, each one slamming deeper than the last. Flesh slapped against flesh, which, combined with their pants and groans, created music to fuck to. Mac wanted to make it last, but he was already so close to the edge. He clenched his teeth and scrunched his eyes shut, not able to match Russel’s thrusts and hold on to his orgasm. But he needed to. Fuck, did he need to. He wanted to ride that wave with Russel. Not before. Not after. With him.
He lost all sense of time. Even the numbness in his arms and legs faded. There was nothing but the two of them. Nothing but Russel’s cock pumping in and out of his arse, the head hitting the sweet spot that drove Mac completely wild.
“Come with me?” Russel’s voice was a quiet plea, not a command.
Mac let go, gasping as his orgasm rocked his body. He felt Russel shudder against him and in him. They were both quivering, both gasping, their bodies shaking over and over until they were both hopelessly spent. Happily exhausted, Mac’s arms and legs gave way, and he sprawled onto the cum-soaked carpet. Russel fell on top of him, still inside him. They both began to laugh, and tears of joy stung Mac’s eyes.
“Fucking hell. If sex is always going to be that fucking good, I never want to stop being your fake boyfriend with benefits.”
Russel slipped out of Mac and sat beside him, leaning against him. Without warning, Russel’s laughter shattered, and he burst into tears.
16 Russel
Russel’s tears were uncontrollable, even more so when Mac sat up and wrapped his still-cuffed arms around him. The chains hung across Russel’s scrawny chest, a stark reminder of how inadequate he was next to the gorgeous man he’d just fucked.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Mac’s voice was a low, soothing rumble beside Russel’s ear. He made calming noises between placing soft kisses on Russel’s cheek and jaw. “What’s wrong?”
All Russel could do was shake his head and keep on crying like a baby. He hadn’t meant to burst into tears, but everything had conspired against him: the emotional high of his orgasm, which had immediately crashed into a low; the post-orgasm exhaustion that had stripped him of his defences; Mac’s words, which hadn’t been intended to sting but had cut deep anyway.
He wasn’t sure how Mac managed it between the cuffs, chains, and fatigue that had to be gripping him too, but somehow, the big guy scooped Russel into his arms and carried him to the bed. It was only when Mac covered them both with the quilt that Russel realised he was shivering. He wasn’t sure he could get any more pathetic.
“I’m meant to be looking after you.” He tried to inject humour into his voice, but it was distorted by his watery sobs.
“You did.”
Not nearly enough. Rubbing lotion into Mac’s beautiful red arse wasn’t anywhere near enough. He should have been holding him gently and making sure he was okay; instead, Mac was the one taking care of him.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’ve been hit by all the post-orgasm feels, that’s all.” Russel buried his face against Mac’s strong chest. The chains were around him again; it was the only way Mac could embrace him.
Mac stroked his arm, his touch reassuring. “Don’t lie. Not to me.”
Well, fuck. Mac’s words made Russel cry even harder. “I feel so fucking pathetic right now.”
“You’re not.” Mac kissed his head.
“Men aren’t supposed to cry.” Russel felt Mac stiffen. He tilted his face up. “You don’t cry.”
“Maybe I should.” Mac tightened his grip around Russel’s thin shoulders. “Cry all you like. Then we’re going to talk.”
“Can’t we sleep instead?”
“No dodging this time, Russel. I shouldn’t have let you lure me into the bedroom in the first place. I’m sorry.”
Russel chuckled despite his tears. “But you had fun, right?”
Mac sighed. “Best sex I’ve had in ages.”
“I should hope I was better than your vibrator.”
Mac snorted out a laugh. He kissed Russel’s head again. “Stop it.”
“What?”
“Avoiding the serious stuff.”
Russel sniffed but kept his mouth shut. He had nothing to say except another flippant comment.
They lay there for some time, Mac holding and stroking Russel until his tears were finally under control. He was exhausted from crying and sex. He could have easily fallen asleep, and he was pretty sure he had dozed off a couple of times, but then Mac would make some small movement that would snap him back to wakefulness; he wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or pissed off.
“Talk to me,” Mac whispered.
Russel ran his fingers over one of the cuffs. “I should really take these off.” He looked up in time to see Mac scowl. “But you do look sexy as hell in them. I could definitely get used to you wandering around my flat, with nothing but these on.”
“Russel.” Mac’s tone was hard but pleading.
“I’m sorry.” A sound escaped Russel’s throat that was somewhere between a pathetic whimper and a sigh. “I’m such a big fucking disappointment. It’s all I ever am.”
Mac squeezed him. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Russel pushed himself up, constrained by the chains. “I’m disappointing you right now, aren’t I? You’re pissed off because I’m trying to smooth over my tears with jokes and distractions.”
Mac pressed his lips together, obviously thinking before replying. “I just want to be able to help.”
And there it was, the confirmation Russel needed. He tried to slip away, but between the blasted chains and Mac’s powerful grip, he was pulled back against the man’s chest. With any other man, he’d have been spitting feathers at having his small size used against him, but he couldn’t summon up any anger or annoyance towards Mac.
“Talk to me. Please.”
“You don’t want to hear me whine.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You’d be the first.” Russel puffed out a disgruntled breath. “We’re not even real boyfriends. You don’t owe me anything.”
Mac pressed his lips to the top of Russel’s head, but instead of kissing him, he breathed in and out slowly several times. “Maybe I want to be.”
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