Dared by Him (Rough Love Book 3)

by Leighton Greene

  Dared by Him

  Rough Love Part 3

  Leighton Greene

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  © 2019 L J Greene. All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author.

  All characters in this book are eighteen or older.

  Contents

  Dared by Him

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  Also by the Author

  Dared by Him

  One of the best things about Xander is that he doesn’t hold a grudge once disagreements are cleared up. Ben guesses that he’s probably had a lot of experience in letting things go. So although Ben thinks from time to time about that awful night when his temper overtook his rationality, for the most part they move past it and into an easy relationship with each other. Sometimes Ben will say, "I'm sorry," again, completely out of context, but Xander just touches his arm or kisses him, silently reassuring Ben that it's forgiven. He’s forgiven.

  Ben is astonished by the amount of genuine affection he has for Xander underneath everything else they have. There are little things that Xander does that touch his heart unexpectedly, like the way he starts leaving dairy milk for Ben in the fridge (Xander prefers an organic almond-soy mix). When Ben sleeps over, if Xander has an early shift at the coffee shop, he slips out quietly and tucks the blankets back around Ben so he stays warm.

  “You take good care of your playthings,” Ben says one night, after Xander has begun to carefully massage out the cramps from his back and legs. He’s had Ben hogtied and gagged, and left him like that for a long, long time, just to see how much he could take before the claustrophobic panic set in. It took a while. Ben is determined to outlast Xander at least once. He just hasn’t yet.

  “I do,” Xander says, sounding self-satisfied. “I will return you to the store in mint condition,” he says, pinching at the muscles in Ben’s shoulder. "Well, maybe near-mint."

  “Return me? You want your money back?” Ben means it as a joke, but he feels Xander’s fingers still for a moment.

  “Nope,” he says. “Product is as advertised, moveable joints and all. Arms up.” He starts rubbing down Ben’s sides, into muscles Ben never knew he had.

  “Jesus,” Ben says, wincing.

  “You need to do more yoga,” Xander advises.

  “Mmm,” Ben mumbles. “Don’t sound so pleased with yourself.” He shifts under Xander, enjoying the stretch in his muscles. “So when are we going to do something just for you?”

  They’ve tacitly avoided talking about Xander’s fantasies for a long time, focusing on what Ben wants to try instead. Even getting hogtied tonight was based on his desire to see how it felt (result: very good). Ben thought, at first, it was because he’s the newbie to these things and he has so much to try. But he's starting to wonder.

  “We need to try something you like,” Ben yawns. “Something for you.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a great idea right now,” Xander says. “I have a propensity to get really rough. We should take things slow.”

  Slow, always slow. Slow as goddamned continental drift, Ben thinks. Over the months, he’s taken to phrasing their interactions in grandiose language, as if their fucking will literally change the world. He opens his mouth to say as much but Xander forestalls him.

  “Let me guess. Melting icecaps. Human evolution and extinction. Tectonic plates colliding. Asteroids from space.”

  Ben closes his mouth, annoyed that he’s so easy to read. "Actually, I was going to say thank you for the massage."

  “You're welcome." Xander has finished now, and lies back on the bed with his hands behind his head. "Why are you in such a hurry, Ballard? Just relax and enjoy the ride."

  Ben wonders about Xander’s definition of rough, because already, Ben is invariably covered in marks and bruises after a night together. He's a little overwhelmed by the practicalities sometimes. Most of the time now he can’t go jogging or play basketball with his shirt off. There are things that creep up his neck or across his collar bone that look like hickies; that he can pass off as hickies; but are not hickies, and the knowing look of Dorian when they have a shift together is irritating.

  Xander’s aftercare is excellent, but there’s no getting around the fact that Xander’s fucking leaves visible reminders.

  Ben isn’t complaining though. He’s started to see the beauty of it through Xander’s eyes.

  And he wants more.

  He's beginning to understand that, for Xander, the real fun happens without the props. He prefers the physical sensation of using own hands. He likes the cane because of the pain it causes, but it’s just an instrument. He owns more sex toys than Ben can almost believe, but rarely uses them now unless Ben expresses an interest.

  But Ben can feel Xander holds back a lot. Sometimes Ben can see his lover wants to throw off that control he has over himself. Do it, Ben always thinks, sometimes says, but Xander never does, even when Ben is reduced to babbling nonsensical pleas. He can see Xander's want in the baring of teeth, the narrowing of eyes or the spontaneous jerk and clench of a hand. But Xander always stops himself, turns to intimacy right when Ben can see he wants the violence most.

  He answers every question Ben ever puts to him, but still somehow gives non-responses about his own desires.

  “Alexander,” Ben says. “A relationship is about what we both want.”

  “I always get what I want,” Xander says, showing his teeth in a sharp smile. “So I worry more about the stuff that you want.”

  Ben feels a charge run through him when Xander smiles like that. It’s only later that it strikes him – Xander uses sex to deflect him.

  And he's determined to know every single part of Alexander Romano, especially the scary bits. Ben’s never thought of himself as a head-over-heels kinda guy, but there it is. He's totally smitten. Completely lost. But since he’s still so new to the mysterious world of dating men, Ben decides to seek advice. And since Dorian has done the predictable and told everyone at the coffee shop about Ben and Xander seeing each other, and doing kinky shit to boot, he decides to choose another co-worker. Ben is one of the younger baristas there; the others are all a few years out of college and used to living adult lives, having adult relationships. Ben still seems to think of himself as a kid half the time, even though he can legally drink.

  So definitely he’s not gonna ask Dorian, who’s a year younger than Ben, but is also somehow so secure in his own sexuality that it makes Ben feel more insecure.

  Ben decides on Mariah, since she’s one of the few he thinks might sympathize. Mariah also knows Xander pretty well, especially compared to Dorian. At least, she’s known him the longest at the coffee shop.

  But: “You’re asking me what makes men tick?” she says, incredulous, once he’s cornered her on a shared shift. “Ben, honey, of the two of us, you are definitely better qualified. You are a man, after all. Or at least, a boy.”

  “Just tell me what you know,” he insists, ignoring her snark. “How do you get a guy to talk to you? Open up about stuff? Do that emotional talky thing we don’t like doing?”

  She breaks off in the middle of a sigh, and he wonders if she’s going to stall again. But then she says, “Food. Flattery. Sex. Generally sex works best. And we are never discussing this again, because I�
��m going to have to work with you and Xander for a long time to come and I don’t wanna get mixed up in other people’s business.”

  “Unless you make it big,” Ben points out cheerfully. “Then you can pretend you never met us before when we call out to you from the sidelines of the red carpet.”

  She just snorts.

  Ben decides a triple-whammy is the best way to get an outcome.

  He makes Xander a vegan omelet for brunch one Sunday, with a recipe he finds online, involving things called nutritional yeast, chickpea flour and black salt, which stinks, but seems to cook out okay. Plus hot buttered toast and fried hash browns on the side, because Ben thinks Xander looks good with a shiny mouth. The whole thing actually turns out pretty well, for tofu. And for Ben’s cooking.

  While they’re eating, he tells Xander how much he likes his new shirt. Xander just raises an eyebrow, but Ben can tell he’s pleased. That Mariah, Ben thinks fondly. She knows of which she speaks.

  Next in line is the sex, which has been the hardest bit to plan.

  Ben has had to think long and hard about what Xander might bargain over. Because truth be told, he does just take what he wants. If it’s something new he always talks to Ben beforehand, says “I want X,” and Ben says yes, no, or maybe.

  Over the weeks and months, “no” has become increasingly unlikely.

  The other problem is that Xander is endlessly inventive, and while he has some things that he comes back to again and again, most of the time being with him is a total rollercoaster. Ben begins to despair of ever thinking of something kinky enough, hot enough, Xander enough.

  He’s considered the two things that Xander still gravitates to among his props: the cane and the crop. The crop because he knows Ben likes it. Stings without too much hurt. Sometimes Xander even whips Ben’s hard cock with it, because he can be gentle enough and targeted enough. But it’s the cane, still and always, that Xander loves most. Ben hates the cane, has learned to loathe it. He likes the after-part and he even likes the fear before, the horrible anticipation, but the pain itself is something that never fails to make him scream.

  But that’s what Xander loves about it.

  “Soooo,” Ben drawls, once Xander has finished his omelet and his soy latte. “I wanna make a deal.”

  Xander looks at him, his mouth still shiny with oil from the hash browns. “You want to make a deal with me?” he asks slowly. He looks intrigued. They've never done it this way round before.

  “Because once you make a deal, that’s it, right?” Ben says. “Just as you say.”

  “Continue,” Xander says. His eyes are bright. He licks his mouth, but the grease perseveres, making him look like he’s wearing shiny lip gloss. It’s adorable.

  Ben says, “Here’s my proposal: the cane. You can hit me – let’s say ten times.”

  “Mm.” Ben can tell what Xander is thinking: I can do that whenever I want, although Ben usually calls for a stop or time out by the eighth stroke.

  For a masochist, Ben is kind of a lightweight.

  “And I’ll keep quiet,” he continues. “No noise at all. And – no gag either.” Xander looks highly interested. Ben almost smiles.

  “Safe words?” Xander asks.

  “That would count as noise, wouldn’t it?” Ben says. “So. The deal is, if I keep quiet during the whole thing, you give me an answer to something I want to know.”

  “You’re throwing away your safe words so you can ask me a question?” Xander frowns, and Ben can see his mind working over furiously.

  Ben is hoping he won’t figure it out, not yet. “I’m not throwing them away, I’m making a deal. I’ll use them if I need them, but that would still break our agreement.” He leans forward. “And I don’t want to ask you a question.” He’s learned his lesson there, after asking twenty of them and not learning all that much in the process. “I want you to give me an answer. Full and complete. That’s the deal. As many questions or as much talking as it takes to get there. Until I’m satisfied.”

  That’s it, right there – Ben sees the reserve hit Xander’s eyes again.

  “Why don’t you just ask me now? What is it?”

  Ben tips his head slightly to the side, gives his gotta-wear-shades bright smile. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” He knows that’ll work, hit Xander’s buttons just right.

  It does. Lust flares, flooding Xander’s cheekbones with red, his eyes glazing just a little. “Now?” he asks.

  Ben swallows. “Yeah,” he says. “Now.” His voice is low and raspy, and he can see it goes straight to Xander’s cock.

  And just like that, Ben knows he has him. He’s gotta send Mariah flowers or something.

  “Safe words,” is the only thing Xander says to him before he shoves Ben face-down onto the bed.

  “Odyssey, drastic, blah blah blah,” Ben says into the sheets.

  “Get your clothes off,” Xander says. When Ben starts to shuffle up off the bed, he’s shoved back, hard. “No. Right there, on your face. Just like that.”

  That’s more difficult. But Ben is secretly glad Xander’s not going to make it easy for him. He kicks off his shoes, and lifts his hips to unbutton his jeans. He knows Xander loves this part, watching Ben remove his clothes slowly, still self-conscious about it after months. Ben shrugs everything down to his ankles, flails it off, his semi-hard cock catching in the bed clothes as he struggles. The top half is easier.

  “So we made a deal,” Xander says, after looking him over for longer than he ever has.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not going to work you up,” Xander says calmly. Ben cringes. Very occasionally these days, Xander will start in on him right away, before Ben’s arousal or endorphins give any leeway. It’s never ended well for Ben, who screams out “Odyssey!” loud and early.

  But he kind of knew that’s how it would go down. Xander likes to control and will take any opportunity he’s given. “Okay,” he says.

  “Ten strokes?” Xander checks.

  “That’s what I said,” Ben replies, and wishes he hadn’t as soon as it’s out of his mouth. He sounds cocky, swaggering. Jesus, Ben, just shut up.

  And Xander swings just as Ben finishes the thought, trying to catch him off guard. Ben bites hard, teeth on teeth, makes the smallest of sighs in his own mouth. Doesn’t count as noise, and Xander knows it.

  Ben finds it pretty easy through the first five, his focus on the outcome.

  “Halfway through, Benjamin,” Xander says. He’s breathing hard, from effort or excitement Ben can’t tell. There’s a pause. “Put your hands behind your back.” Ben obeys, feels Xander tie him up quickly with one of those soft silky ropes he has.

  But this is a positive sign for Ben. Xander ties him when he thinks his free hands, clutching at the bed or the wall or the kitchen bench are helping him to deal with the pain. So Xander is trying to up the stakes.

  Which also means he’s starting to consider the possibility that Ben will stay silent the whole way through. Despite himself, despite his firing nerve ends and the screaming part of his brain, Ben smirks into the sheets. If Xander thinks it, Ben can do it. And he wasn’t quite sure before.

  The next stroke would have broken his vow of silence, though, if he hadn’t been biting into the bedspread. Ben is starting to see little lights exploding, whether his eyes are open or shut. Xander is rarely this tough on him, not with the cane.

  But there are only four more now.

  The next one, Ben is afraid, made him scream like a motherfucker, but then he realizes it was just his imagination. He’s starting to feel different, lighter, like he could just step out of his own body. Eight and nine pass by. He sees canyons and clouds, he’s standing on the edge. Well, that’s new, he thinks. And then immediately he’s back in his body, hard. He can hear Xander’s heavy breathing, and his own. Hears Xander unzip his own jeans and quickly strip off his clothes.

  The final stroke – Ben could swear it’s nothing, just a tap, even though Xander
gives a grunt of exertion as he swings. Ben has had endorphins rush before and he’s felt the pleasure from pain before, but this is different.

  He feels exalted.

  Xander has thrown the cane down on the carpet, almost in frustration from what Ben can hear. Then he’s on top, forcing his dick into Ben’s tied hands. Xander fucks him like that, into Ben’s sweaty palms tied in an awkward, silent prayer. When Ben feels hot splashes blanket his wrists, he shouts in triumph. Coming down, shivering, he’s surprised to find his stomach is sticky; he came too. Sometime. He's not sure when.

  “You,” says Xander, sounding like he can’t believe it. “You little…You –” And then he starts laughing against Ben’s back.

  “We had a deal,” Ben says later. He rolls to pull Xander closer against his back; Ben is the little spoon. Ben is tired, his ass is sore, but he’s still determined. "Tell me...tell me about one of your relationships."

  He feels Xander move away slightly, his muscles tensing. Ben knows, like his mouth and tongue know the ridges on Xander’s cock, that he wants to ask, Why? But he doesn’t. Clears his throat. "I don't know if The Ex Game is really a good idea, Benjamin."

  "We had a deal."

  Xander sighs. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

  "Well, what's the longest relationship you've had, for starters."

  "I don’t know. Six months, I guess.”

  Okay. Ben was kind of expecting something longer. A lot longer. And more definite. “Six months?” Ben clarifies.

  “Well, I think so? I’m counting since the first spanking.”

  Ben has to think about that for a second. “What?”

  “That first spanking I gave you.”

  “You’re telling me that your longest relationship has been – with me?” And Ben promised himself since he first thought up this scheme that he wouldn’t react with surprise or shock to anything Xander says, but come on, that’s too much. He grabs behind himself at Xander before he can pull away. “We weren’t official then,” he says. “So that doesn’t count.”