“Get into bed.” He does while I grab the condoms and lube and set them on the nightstand. I turn on music, light rock, and then grab a towel from the bathroom before I return to bed.
He’s sitting up and watching me with confusion furrowing his brow. “Sir?”
“Shh.” I point at the bed. “Right side.”
The left is mine.
Was mine.
I always slept on the side closest to the door, whether we were at home or a hotel. Didn’t matter which side that happened to be.
I always wanted myself between the door and her. Not that there was much chance of something happening, but that was my thing.
To put myself between my girl and danger.
I won’t do any less for my boy.
Make no mistake about it—he’s becoming mine.
He scoots over. When I climb into bed I pull him into my arms and kiss him.
I’m done talking.
I need this tonight even more than I need sleep.
Not having human touch the way I was used to is killing me every bit as much as the loneliness and grief.
I roll him onto his back as I kiss him, then start nibbling my way along the right side of his jaw, down his neck, to his right shoulder. There, I bite him, enjoying his hiss of pain and the feel of his fingers against my back as he holds on while I suck to make it dark.
I want her to see it there.
I want her to know I’ve been here and I’m staking my claim on him.
If she didn’t want me touching her toy, she never should have offered him to me to play with, and like hell am I going to give him up. She can keep sharing him with me.
She’s not the one nearly dead inside and trying to run the fucking state.
And how fucking mean to let him go two weeks without bothering to ask if he’s horny. What the fuck?
There’s being a sadist, and then there’s being an asshole. You always reward a submissive. That keeps them coming back for more.
Maybe that’s why Casey can never keep a boyfriend, until she suckered Declan into this role. Plus, I now wonder if she openly cheats on him. I don’t know how long they’ve been together, but I know Casey went out with someone to an event a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve heard scuttlebutt about her dating that guy.
I hate to think like that about her, but now that I’m staking a claim on Declan, I’ve already found myself shifting back into that old, familiar adversarial role with her that I haven’t played in a quarter damn century.
Let the boy orgasm, for fuck’s sake.
His cock softened a little when I made him move, but apparently, like my girl, he’s hard-wired or well-trained to associate pain with pleasure, because it stiffens between us while I mark him.
I bite my way down to his right nipple and flick it with my tongue. It’s peaked, and that earns me more moans and gasps.
Meanwhile, I shove aside old memories struggling for recognition.
I can’t entertain any of those thoughts tonight and survive this.
I already know I can’t keep doing what I’m doing, because I won’t survive that, either.
I…can’t.
I’m like a model rocket launched in the desert, and I’m out of fuel, but my return parachute hasn’t opened yet and I’m nearly at terminal velocity.
This I know for certain.
Declan is my back-up parachute.
Moving to his left nipple, I repeat the treatment I gave the right, until I feel his hands on my head, urging me not to stop, holding me there. When I lift my head, he moans.
The kind of moan that makes me achingly hard and has me dripping all over both of us.
I cage him with my body, my hands planted on the mattress on either side of him. “Tell me what you want, boy.”
He spreads his legs and wraps them around my legs. “I want you, Sir.”
My hands tremble when I reach for the lube and a condom from where I left them on the nightstand. I push his legs apart, knees up toward his shoulders, giving me access.
He’s probably ready but I’m not going to risk hurting him. I lube two fingers and press for entrance. It doesn’t take long before I’m easily sliding them into him and slowly finger-fucking him.
“How often does she fuck you like that?” I ask.
Kind of mean to make the boy think right now, sure, but I want to know.
“When she feels like it, Sir. She usually makes me come while doing that, but she usually fucks me after I’ve made her come. Unless she lets me fuck her and come like that.”
Hmm.
“How often does that happen?” I ask.
“Not often enough,” he mutters, and I sense a weakness there I can exploit.
I lean in and kiss him. “Sir has a very different philosophy when it comes to orgasms,” I tell him. Removing my fingers from his ass, I add more lube and a third finger, reveling in the moans that gets me when I once again penetrate him.
“Thank you, Sir,” he gasps.
I’m not waiting any longer. He can take me. I wipe my hand, roll the condom on, lube, and settle into position. This time, I put his ankles on my shoulders and lean in to kiss him as I press forward.
The feel of his hands roaming my back and shoulders as I slowly fill him makes me shiver and nearly makes me come. I pause, kissing him and relishing this moment.
My world has flipped on its axis, but I’m quickly adapting. I’d never considered an option like this before because…
Well, I just hadn’t.
Except any other man would be difficult for me to date and fuck, considering my current job title, even if I was attracted to them.
Which I never have been before.
This was a perfect storm, a category four, Hurricane Casey.
Here’s hoping we don’t all crash on the rocks.
Once my thighs are pressed against his body, I suck in a deep breath as I realize for the second time in just the space of a couple of hours, I’ve claimed this man.
A man who, as of a few hours ago, was only my friend and a key staffer.
Now he’s my air, my blood.
Sir and the sadist both step aside for a few minutes while I make love to Declan. I playfully nip and nuzzle his lips as I slowly thrust, his hard cock rubbing between us. I lower his legs, wrapping them around my waist so he can move with me.
I want us to do this together—I don’t want to just do it to him.
That can come later.
Brown eyes stare up at me, hands reach for me, and I let my body speak to his. When I hear his breath catch after I change angles I smile and keep that up. His cock is firmly wedged between our bodies like this. With every stroke I feel it growing slicker between us as he’s leaking, while my cock slides over his sweet spot and milks it from him.
I capture one hand, and the other, kiss them, and hold them over his head, our fingers entwined. “Can you come for me like this, baby?”
Yeah, I’m going to call him that right now. I need to. My soul needs this even more than my body does.
“Maybe.” Desire fills his tone. He’s deliciously needy, sounding nothing like the man who helped run my morning meeting or sat in on meetings with me today.
Nothing like the excellent and professional attorney who, until today, I never pictured like this.
I take my time, able to push back my own desire now that I have an eager goal in mind. With every shift of my hips I pay attention to him, to his reactions, trying to recreate gasps and moans.
It takes me a little while, but I sense the way his whole body begins to tense and moves with me. “More, please,” he whines.
Adding a little extra force at the bottom of every stroke seems to be what he needs, if the sounds he’s making are any indication.
Another couple of minutes of that, and he starts nodding. “Yeah, almost… Yeah.”
It’s like sweet torture, holding myself back until I feel his ass start contracting around my cock, squeezing me, about the same time he lets out
a sexy, deep cry and his cock erupts between us.
His hands clamp down on mine. I hold on as I start fucking him, driving him up the bed, digging in and wanting to finish quickly now, while echoes of his climax still roll through him.
It’s even better than the earlier one. Pleasure threatens to split me apart from the balls and straight up my spinal column. I’d forgotten how damned good sex could feel. My body tenses as I take a couple of final strokes and bury myself deep inside him, kissing him, falling still and never wanting to move.
It’s tempting to doze off like this, except I need to clean up, and he probably does, too. I nip his bottom lip and force myself to sit up. In the dim light, I find his hand and hold on.
“Come on,” I say. “Shower.”
We rinse off and are back in bed five minutes later, and did I say I wasn’t going to sleep tonight?
I barely make it back to bed before my eyes are demanding I close them.
And I pull him tightly against my body, wrap my arms and legs around him, and for the first time in two years I fall asleep immediately, without Xanax or alcohol or crying, and without the sound of the wind or the screaming in my head.
Chapter Twenty
I’m aware that I sleep, but wrapped around Declan’s body I have no nightmares. I dream of fucking him, holding him, kissing him. I vaguely remember waking up once, realizing I rolled away from him, and I rolled toward him again, found him, pulled him to me, and instantly dropped back to sleep.
When the alarm on his phone goes off too damn early Wednesday morning, even earlier than my own alarm usually goes off, I grumble and roll over so he’s pinned under me.
Laughing, he tries to ease himself out from under me. “I have to get ready, Sir.”
“No, you don’t. I’m the boss. We can be late today. Text her and tell her you’ll ride in with me.”
“I need clean clothes, Sir.”
“You can wear mine.”
He chuckles. “You’re taller and bigger than me, Sir. I think someone would notice.”
I grumble. “Then we can all be late this morning, dammit.”
He relaxes a little, now holding me, but I can tell he’s still going to get up.
Except I want to shower with him this morning. I’m not ready to give this up yet.
I’m not ready to give him up yet.
Before Declan can leave my bed, I pull him in for a long, deep kiss. There’s no hesitation in his response, no drawing back.
No resistance.
“I need to make your coffee, Sir,” he reminds me. “Ma’am will be here soon. She’ll beat my ass if I don’t have it ready when she arrives.” Even in the dim light, I hear the smile in his tone.
Emotion wells up inside me, threatening to rip me apart. “George,” I tell him. “Call me George.”
“Ma’am said—”
“Fuck what Casey said. Right now, I want you to say my name. Call me by my fucking name, Declan.”
He pauses, then snuggles close and lets me hold him while I kiss him. “I need to make your coffee, George,” he whispers against my lips between kisses. “Please let me go make your coffee for you, George.”
I…fucking shiver.
A good shiver, but it shakes my world to my foundation, to the depths of my soul, even.
Ellen used to make me shiver like that. All the time.
I cup his face, my forehead pressed against his. “Thank you, Dec,” I say. “Thank you for all of this, for what you’re going to do, everything. I…” I choke back the emotions trying to break through. Dammit, I fucking will not cry this morning. “Tell me the truth. Never lie to me. How was last night?”
He nuzzles my nose with his. “I’m hoping we do that again, and often.”
“And this morning? After spending the night? Would you want to do that again?”
His smile fades. “That’s up to Ma’am. And you.”
My sexually-fueled inner bravado of last night has evaporated in the cold light of dawn.
I’m terrified if she realizes how much I want him now that she might never let him sleep here again, and I don’t know why I feel like that. She already told me I’d get him for the DC trip, but…
“You tell me what you want, Dec.”
He nods. “I want to do this again, George. A lot. But I want to call you Sir.”
Hell, I mean, I want him to call me Sir, too, but I need to know this. “Because you want to, or because she wants you to?”
“Because I want to, Sir.”
I hold his head clamped in my hands and kiss him. When she arrives, I want her to see him with his lips swollen from my kisses, with my marks on him, with my name on his lips.
“Ask me,” I whisper. “Say my name, and ask me my permission to call me Sir.”
He studies me for a moment, his hands covering mine where they still cup his head, fingers curled around my wrists. Holding me there, not trying to free himself. “George, may I please call you Sir?”
I kiss him again, swallowing my pain, drinking in his youth and energy and hungry, eager need, feeling his cock harden as I devour him. I sweep my tongue through his mouth, over his teeth, dueling with his tongue, and want to leave him red-cheeked from our morning stubble rasping together, another subtle cue for Casey to see.
I want her to see what she could have with me.
I want her to see what she’s missing.
I want her to see that if she tries to deny me him, she’s going to have one hell of a fight on her hands.
She never should have let me have him, because if she doesn’t keep letting me have him, I will take him from her.
One way, or another.
“Beg me, baby,” I order him.
Casey must be a sadist, or he’s a quick study, or maybe it’s both. He hooks one leg around mine and grinds against me, pressing his forehead to mine. “George, please, I need to call you Sir. I’ll do anything you want me to, George.”
Now I’m wide awake. I roll him onto his back and blindly reach for a condom pouch on the nightstand. I can’t find one, but my hand lands on the bottle of lube.
Fuck it.
I’m still kissing him as I fumble the bottle open one-handed and flip it upside down so I can squeeze some into my palm. Then I drop it onto the bed and slick my cock. I’m already between his thighs, so I spread my knees, which forces his apart, and I begin pressing for entrance with a lube-covered finger.
He realizes what I’m doing. “George—”
“Beg me or safeword, Dec.”
He looks confused, maybe stunned? And I don’t understand that but I don’t even care right now.
Because he grabs my head and pulls me in for a deep, sucking, needy kiss. “Please fuck me, George. I need to feel you.”
Motherfucker. His cock lays rock-hard between us, and not morning wood, either.
Hard like it was last night.
I notch the head of my cock against his rim, and thank god I lubed him up good last night. He grunts a little as I press into him, then I feel him push and I easily slide all the way in.
I gasp, freezing for a moment, needing to breathe through it. He’s hot and perfect and tighter than hell. That little bit of latex made a hell of a difference in the sensation.
And then he hooks his feet behind my knees and starts rocking his hips. His voice sounds deeper, needier when he speaks again.
“Mark me there, too, George. You know you want to. Will you let me call you Sir after you breed me? Then will I be yours? Then can I call you my Sir?”
Our lips crash together as I practically flatten him into the pillow. I didn’t mean to bareback him, for a whole bunch of reasons. But we’re here now, and he has no idea he just said the magic words to unlock a very dark djinn living deep within me and release it from its unwilling exile.
“That any way to address your Sir, boy?” I mumble against his lips, earning me a needy whine in reply.
Declan tries to fuck me now, rubbing against me, grinding his cock agains
t my abs and his ass onto my cock.
I brace my left arm on the bed and reach between us with my right hand. “Eyes open and watch me, boy.”
“Yes, Sir!”
He’s gone again. I hope that wasn’t too mean of me, dropping him into subspace this close to going to work, but I’ll make it up to him.
I’ll do a lot of making up to him, because I’m about to do a whole bunch of very bad things to him over the next weeks and months. And longer.
Very bad things.
I stroke his cock while he holds me and rocks in time with my motions. He plays with my hair with his left hand, and his right hooks under my arm and around the top of my shoulder, using the grip for leverage as he fucks that perfect ass onto my cock.
The old words fall from my lips.
Sort of.
But it hurts too much not to say them now.
“Who’s my good boy?” I whisper.
“Me, Sir!”
I nip his lower lip. “Who’s my very good boy?”
He whines. “Me, Sir! I’m your very good boy.”
“Whose sweet ass is Sir fucking right now?”
I see the moment his mental clutch totally disengages and leaves him spinning in neutral, and it’s beautiful. “It’s your ass, Sir. You own it.”
Another of those shivers ripples through me, past and present merging and mixing and blending until I’m not sure who I am anymore.
“You’re Sir’s perfect boy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir!”
I brush a kiss across his lips. The way he’s leaking pre-cum all over me and him, he’s got to be close. Fuck it, we’re not leaving this bed until I get one out of him and put one into him.
Even if Casey’s standing there watching.
Let her.
Let her see what she did.
She kicked this box open on purpose.
I hope she’s wearing her big-girl panties and can deal with sharing him with me, because I’m not going back to the old world order, and I won’t let Declan go back, either.
“Tell your Sir what you need right now, boy.”
Another deep, desperate whine rolls from him. “Please, Sir. Your boy needs his ass bred this morning.”
I start fucking him as I stroke his cock. “Don’t stop begging me, boy.”
Dirge (Devastation Trilogy 1) Page 17