Micah’s hair was a disaster and his face was tracked with tears and saliva. His chest heaved as he tried to maintain control of his body while Eric pushed him higher and higher. He strained against his bonds. He was gorgeous.
Their eyes met, and Eric couldn’t look away. Micah was an impossible treasure, giving everything up to him, his desire and trust naked in his face.
“I’m going to come on you, sweet boy.” He’d meant to sound commanding, but it came out gentler. The adoration that he felt was escaping despite his efforts.
But Micah seemed to be on the same page. His voice was softer, too. “Yes, Sir.”
Eric removed his condom and dropped it on the towel. He leaned over his sub, fitting their dicks together. The feeling was momentarily odd—rather than two cocks angled the same way, he would sometimes rub over the top of his boy’s dick and sometimes drag along the bottom.
But it was just as delicious, just as sensual. The head of his boy’s cock dragged along his exquisitely, and the folds below enveloped him. He became achingly aware of how easy it would be to just slip inside, to seek that level of completion.
But this was about his boy. The fantasy of being taken by a group of guys was over, and now Eric was changing the script.
He kissed his sub slowly, sweetly, all without slowing the frantic thrust of his hips on sensitive flesh. At the same time, he pinched his boy’s nipples.
He waited for the moment when the pain started to crash through, when his boy was gasping and frantic before releasing them.
“I’m going to pinch you harder, sweet boy.” Micah looked up at him in mute appeal. “You’ll take it, boy. I won’t push you beyond what you can handle.” Micah nodded. “And then when I tell you to, you’re going to come.”
Micah nodded frantically. “Please, Sir. Please, please!”
Eric ground harder against his boy’s cock, then dug his blunt fingernails into the boy’s nipples. Micah cried out, arching off the table and struggling against the bonds that held his hands trapped between them.
“Come! Now, boy. Come.”
Micah’s whole body thrashed. Any control he’d had over keeping still was gone, and he thrust his hips up against Eric’s hard length. He was coming apart, and Eric wanted to drink him in.
Eric released his nipples and swallowed his mouth in a kiss. Then he allowed his own release to overtake him, rocking and ricocheting through his body as he spurted on Micah’s chest.
He was lost in the sensations, lost in his boy, who was the only tether back down to Earth. His orgasm echoed on and on, and he took and took from his sub’s sweet mouth.
At last, his thoughts returned. He wanted to lay there, pressed against his boy for longer, but taking care of Micah was more important. He couldn’t remember when he’d last let himself get so lost while topping.
With a final soft kiss and great reluctance, he stood up, keeping both hands on his boy. Spurts of cum covered his sub’s bound hands, which was almost enough to make him hard again.
He quickly opened all three restraining straps, and then wrapped his boy’s arms around his neck. With a muffled grunt, he picked up his boy and carried him to the nearest chair.
Ben, who was looking a little debauched himself, seemed to have been waiting and stopped by with a blanket and a water bottle, then disappeared.
With his boy snuggled close, he began massaging his wrists, interspersed with soft caresses down his arms and back. He touched a gentle kiss to his forehead.
Chapter 7
Micah
Micah was floating in an ocean. There was no time, no sight, no sound. Everything he needed was there, and he was whole. His body sang.
Something pressed against his mouth and he drank, trustingly. Cool water trickled down his throat, fulfilling a need he hadn’t even realized until it was already gone.
Gradually, he became aware of touch. He was warm everywhere. Surrounded. He noticed soft hands, a blanket, arms and a warm chest. Someone was holding him. He nestled closer.
And then sound. The steady rhythm of a heart. A deep, murmuring voice.
He relaxed into the arms, into the voice. He was safe and loved. His body felt light, free of its heavy physical substance and daily pains.
Slowly memory returned.
Master Eric was holding him. Master Eric had taken him to this beautiful place. He turned his head and kissed the skin nearest to him, a bit of his shoulder.
Master Eric inhaled sharply, and reality started to intrude.
He’d just had the most erotic experience of his life with a man who he’d just met. And four of his friends who he practically hadn’t met.
That feeling of warmth and security was something he’d read about before: subspace. A neurological response, not a true connection.
He started to shake. What was he doing kissing this man? This was a little too crazy. Or maybe a little too real.
“Boy?” Master Eric’s eyes were filled with concern, but Micah reminded himself that it didn’t mean anything. Certainly, Master Eric was good enough at what he did to be responsible with his subs for a few minutes after a scene. That was all it was.
“Um, I’m sorry Sir. I can… you can let go of me now.”
Suddenly, all the pain that he’d been floating above came rushing back into his hip and down his leg.
He kicked out unintentionally, throwing the blanket off and jerking away from Master Eric. Were it not for the Dom’s quick reflexes, he would have landed unceremoniously on the floor.
Master Eric pulled him tighter to his body, but he pushed to get away. His balance was off, and he felt dizzy, but he couldn’t handle the false comfort for another minute.
He pushed away again, nearly rolling off backward onto his head.
“Be still, boy.” Master Eric’s stern voice cut through his panic, and he stilled. He was still breathing heavily, like he’d run a marathon or survived a fight.
“No more struggling, boy. You have two choices. You can safe word at any time, and I’ll respect that. Or you can ask me nicely to move away from you, and I may or may not choose to do so. But you will not struggle.”
Micah consciously slowed his breathing. Two choices. Safe wording or asking. He could manage that. To be honest, he didn’t want to do either one. He’d just panicked.
But did that mean they were still in a scene? God, he wanted that. Or wanted… something. Something to say this wasn’t ending.
He looked up. Master Eric’s face was stern, but his eyes were warm. “That’s better, boy. Now, unless you feel the need to safe word, you are going to stay right where I put you. You will allow me to touch you, and you have permission to touch me if you choose.
“We will talk in five minutes, and until then, you will be silent. That means that whatever you’re thinking right now needs to stop. You’re worrying yourself. So for the next five minutes, you will let me take care of everything. I’m here for you, and that’s all you need to think about.”
Micah ran Master Eric’s words backward and forward in his head. He’d given him a command to… stop thinking. To let him take care of everything. And even though words were bursting behind his lips, he wasn’t allowed to say them.
It was tempting to arrange his thoughts and practice his arguments. Master Eric would never know what happened inside his head.
“Relax, boy. I won’t tell you again.”
Or maybe he would. And then Micah realized that he wanted to do just what Master Eric said. Not just externally, but in his mind as well. Tentatively, he leaned back into the Dom’s shoulder. He felt his muscles relax as soothing hands drifted over his body.
One of Master Eric’s hands cupped his head and pulled him into his chest. He wanted to snuggle in, but he was worried it would be the wrong thing.
On the other hand, Master Eric said he would worry about everything. If he didn’t like it, it would be his responsibility to tell Micah to stop.
He nuzzled in, breathing in the warm scent of sweat
, sex, and Master Eric. Gentle fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
He gave into the nuzzling, exploring with his cheek and nose and forehead. Master Eric was bony in places, muscular in others. Coarse hair sprung from his armpits where his scent was stronger.
“Good boy,” he murmured. And oddly enough, after all the intensity and vulnerability of what had gone before, Micah found himself blushing. He liked being Master Eric’s good boy. It filled him up somewhere inside.
Then he just… rested. Exactly like Master Eric told him to. It was calm and quiet. His body was utterly drained, but that made the comfort of those strong arms even sweeter.
“Micah? Are you ready to talk now?”
“Yes…” he drew out the word, leaving off the honorific. He didn’t want to talk. And he didn’t want to be Micah again instead of sweet boy.
“Can you tell me what’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”
Micah looked away. Then he looked back. “It’s just… I mean… what happens now?”
“Well…” Master Eric drawled. “I was thinking that I could buy you another lemonade, since you enjoyed the last one.”
That was so sweet. Maybe this wasn’t over.
“And then, if you like, you could meet some of my friends when, you know, we’re not in a scene.” Micah’s heart leapt. Master Eric wanted to introduce him to his friends?
It might be embarrassing to meet them after they’d fucked him, but he also liked the idea of getting to know people who were important to Eric.
“Or, if you’d rather, we could just chat for a while. I enjoyed talking with you before. No pressure, of course.”
Was Master Eric nervous? It sounded almost like he was afraid of being turned down. Which was laughable, since Micah wasn’t exactly a catch. He must have been imagining it.
“I’d like that,” he offered, “Sir.”
Master Eric’s smiled when he heard the honorific, but then his brows furrowed. When had the confident Dom become so worried? “Um, you’d like which one, sweet boy?”
Oh, and now he was back to being sweet boy. Outside of the scene!
“You should choose. I’d, um, like to get to know you, too. And I’d like to get to know your friends.” Because that would help me get to know you, too. And I want to mean enough to you that I know your friends. God, he wanted to be that important to this Dom.
Master Eric beamed down at him. “In that case… would you maybe like to meet up with my friends at Whirlwind next week? It’s a bar around the corner. They have a great trivia night.”
“I… yes! I’d love that. And I’m pretty good at trivia, myself.”
That got a rich chuckle from Master Eric. It was nice to see his lighter side, too. Hopefully it would be a little glimpse of what he was like as a boyfriend, not just a Dom.
“I would expect nothing less. For now, let’s go get that lemonade. My sweet boy deserves a reward.”
Micah grinned back. “Yes, Sir!”
Screw the lemonade, he thought, you’re my reward.
Game for You
Interlude
Charlie
“Aaaaahhhhhhhh....” A satisfied sigh drew Charlie’s attention as she finished stacking the clean glasses for the evening. It was still early on a Wednesday night, and the bar was almost empty.
She turned to locate the sound and found her newest customer engaged in an elaborate stretch, a handsome suit jacket pulled taut over a shimmering blouse.
“Most people don’t sound that satisfied even with a beer in their hands,” she commented.
The customer, resplendent in a mixture of masculine and feminine clothing from head to toe, grinned at her. “Most people probably haven’t spent the last two years pretending to be someone that they’re not. I am here to be queer.”
Charlie laughed. “You’ve come to the right place, then. I’m Charlie.”
“Oh, so Whirlwind is your bar, right?”
“Sure is. Opened it nearly twenty years ago.”
“I read about it online. So far it’s living up to its reputation.” The newcomer indicated a corner where a butch lesbian couple were trying to convince their squirming toddler to eat something other than fries. “I’m Dakota. They/them,” they added.
“Well, nice to meet you. You actually remind me a bit of Carla, who runs our trivia night.” They both had that vivacious energy and infectious good humor. Not to mention their proud refusal to stick to any one gender.
Though no one else had Carla’s shining hazel eyes and alluring muscles and curves under those deceptively tight tailored pants. Not that Charlie was thinking about that.
“Oh, Carla, is it?” Dakota leaned in, as if preparing to hear a secret. “You’re going to have tell me all about her...”
Charlie found herself blushing. “He is our trivia night host. And he’s genderqueer. That’s all.”
“Suuuure,” Dakota drawled. “And have you told him how you feel?”
“I... no. Carla’s a friend. An, um, employee.” How had this conversation gotten turned around so quickly? Usually Charlie was the listening ear for her customers, not the subject of their curiosity.
Charlie scrambled for an opportunity to shift the conversation. “Did you want to order?”
Dakota laughed aloud, clearly pleased with Charlie’s mild embarrassment. Though there was nothing funny about it. She and Carla? It could never work, and she wasn’t going to let herself think about it.
“I heard you have some local beers, so get me whatever everyone orders. And don’t think I’m going to forget about Carla. I smell romance in the air.”
Charlie rolled her eyes. Maybe she could think of a better diversion. “I think there’s romance in the water. Or maybe the beer,” she snickered, handing Dakota the foaming glass.
“I have this crowd of regulars who’ve all been single for years. Then two of them got engaged to each other out of the blue a few weeks ago. Like, zero to practically married overnight. And another one, who I thought would never settle down, brought his new boyfriend in last week.”
“So, you’re saying I should expect to get lucky tonight?” Dakota shimmied their shoulders.
“That’s up to you, my friend.”
“I think I’ll take that as a personal challenge,” Dakota grinned.
Chapter 1
Ben
Ben shook his client’s hand as they walked to the doorway. “I know this is a difficult time for you, but we’ll do what we can to handle everything out of court. It sounds like you’re both willing to compromise, which is important. I’ll see you in two weeks.”
“Thank you, Mr. Williams.” Exhaustion haunted her eyes. “I’m not looking forward to it, but I appreciate you helping us out.”
“I’m happy to help. Have a good evening.”
The woman shut the door, and Ben took a moment to tidy his temporary desk. He hated divorce cases. Somehow, when gay marriage became legal, he’d thought that he’d been defending couple’s rights to celebrate their love, not helping them untangle custody battles and divide their assets.
But he was here to help in any way that he could. He’d heard more than enough stories about queer couples getting screwed over in divorce court with bullshit assumptions like the femme one couldn’t possibly be abusive, or gays can’t raise children.
Not to mention the insidious comments like I thought all of you queers were white or maybe you should try a straight relationship next time. Well, not on his watch.
He packed away the four files he was working on: a transgender name change, the divorce, a lawsuit for wrongful termination based on discrimination, and an adoption.
It was a huge range to cover, but it kept him on his toes and made a nice change from the corporate law that filled the rest of his week. He felt like he was giving back, and it kept his life in balance.
Of course, there was another perk to volunteering at the LGBTQ legal clinic…
Ben had a smile on his face as he shut the d
oor to his temporary office and wandered down the hall. It was just after 6 PM, so hopefully…
Parker gave a cheerful wave from his desk in the corner office. The glass wall muffled most of his words, but his voice was completely serious as he talked through what was probably some complex negotiation. All the while, his face shone with delight at Ben’s presence.
As usual, his appearance was at complete odds to his legal prowess and his impressive position as the director of the legal clinic.
His dirty blond hair was artfully disarrayed, as if someone had just grabbed it and dragged their fingers through it. Somehow, that drew attention to his sparkling green eyes, just as his neatly trimmed goatee accented his full, pink lips.
Parker was a white guy, and Ben always told himself that he wasn’t dating white guys any more. They were usually entitled assholes. Yeah, even the subs.
But he’d spent enough time around Parker to see that he was aware of his privilege and actively worked to make things better. Parker saw how systemic oppression manifested vividly in applications of the law, and he wasn’t afraid of calling it out when he saw it.
Of course, Ben had plenty of privilege on his own, and untangling that in his head was its own mess.
But Parker felt like his people.
So, he stood outside his glass-walled office and allowed his eyes to eat up that translucent-pink skin. He knew Parker would notice his lascivious scrutiny, and he smirked.
Parker raised one eyebrow, flirtatiously. His feet were crossed on the desk, showing off his black Chucks with rainbow laces.
As usual, he rocked back on his chair at an angle that always made Ben’s heart leap into his throat. It was cocky and dangerous, and all the more intoxicating because of it.
Parker’s striped green shirt was unbuttoned down to the second or third button, leaving tantalizing glimpses of the strong neck and hairy chest beneath.
Whirlwind Page 15
