by Sean Michael
Jason moaned, eyes crossing, muscles clenching tight.
“Love you.” Rook’s whisper heralded the end of their kiss, Rook swooping down to swallow Knight’s cock. That made the pressure of Knight’s mouth around his erection all the sharper.
Groaning, Bishop pushed a second finger in with the first, opening him up, getting him ready to take that big cock. Jason bore down, his entire body shaking. He could see Rook slurping and moaning over Knight’s long, needy cock. Bishop found his gland, nailing it.
“Bish!” Oh, God. Right there.
“I’ve got you, baby boy.” And Bish did, hitting that spot over and over. Jason’s eyes crossed, his body jerked. So good.
They all kept moving, working together to get off. Bish worked his gland like a machine, making him want to scream. Added to that was Knight’s mouth, on him like a Hoover.
“Need.” His heart was slamming in his chest, the world spinning.
“I’ll say when you can come.” God, Bish was a stud when he got all dominant.
“Oh… Oh, damn.” His body shuddered, shook hard.
Rook pulled off Knight, making him cry out around Jason’s cock. Covering his mouth, Rook took a kiss from him that he felt all the way to his toes. He pushed into the kiss, need ratcheting up even higher. Oh, God. Oh, God.
“Soon,” murmured Bishop. “We’ll all go together.”
Knight’s mouth popped off his cock. “Only if Rookie gets back to sucking.”
Rook broke their kiss, giggling. Knight’s tongue slapped the tip of Jason’s cock and his body tightened. Rook rubbed their noses, then his head bent and he took Knight back into his mouth.
“Oh…” Jason swallowed, his ass cheeks squeezing.
He watched as Rook’s head started to bob, then Knight’s mouth latched onto his cock again, the suction viscous.
“Please!” He started to shiver, shake, the world tightening.
“Just a couple more, baby boy. All together… Okay, now!” Bishop slammed into his gland as he shouted the word.
Jason’s entire body shook, seed shooting from his cock. Knight swallowed him down, throat working the tip of his cock. He could feel Bish filling him up, stretching him. Rook stopped bobbing his head, cleaning now instead. Knight kissed the tip of his cock as it slipped free.
Rook finally let Knight’s cock go and gave Jason another kiss, this one flavored with cum. He groaned, his head spinning. This was his life. This.
Bishop pulled out, and they all sort of collapsed into a heap together.
Knight grunted from underneath him. “I have to work.”
Bishop patted him absently. “You’re fine.”
Jason hid his grin. He was beginning to learn that Knight and Bish needed this struggle, to push.
“Working,” Knight murmured.
“You worked. It was amazing. Led to even better fucking.”
“Not…” Knight yawned, snuggling in. “Not done.”
“Done enough,” murmured Bishop, idly stroking Knight’s spine.
“I…” Knight’s words dissolved into soft snores.
“Magic touch,” murmured Rook, bringing Jason down next to him on the mat.
“It’s amazing.” Bishop always stunned him.
“It’s love.” Rook looked at him, love and adoration in his eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
Rook took a kiss and snuggled in with him. He leaned, eyelids heavy. Napping was good, right?
Of course Rook’s snores joined Knight’s and his answer to that could only be yes.
Chapter Six
“Knight! Supper!”
“I’m busy.” He turned the music up and got back to it, fingers dragging through paint and spreading it on the canvas. This was why he’d bought the cottage. There he could paint without interruptions.
“Jason called us for supper, baby.” That was a lot closer than the first call had been. And not Jason.
“I’m busy. I’ll eat later.” Tomorrow. Maybe. He grabbed a tube of cadmium yellow.
“That’s not how it works, baby,”
“Go away. This is my studio.” He squirted the yellow out on his fingers, slashing at the canvas.
Hot hands grabbed his ass. “But you’re my boy.”
“Not a boy.” God, that felt good. No. No distractions. None.
Bishop squeezed. “Sure you are. You’re mine.”
“Working. Busy. Shoo. Go eat.”
“Not until you come with me. You need to eat.” Bishop’s chin landed on his shoulder.
“I’m…” He hummed and leaned back into Bishop, just for the second. Bishop’s lips were warm on his neck. “Working…” Oh. Oh, so good.
“Me too.”
No. No, they were in the studio…
“Come with me,” murmured Bishop, hands sliding around Knight’s waist and tugging him backward.
“Mouse.” He was dirty and busy and his radio was on and… And Bishop’s moan settled in the pit of his stomach.
“Bish, honey, are you…?” Rook’s voice sounded then faded.
He felt Bish’s smile against his skin.
“Where are we going? I’m not hungry. I ate yesterday. I’m working.” He had a thousand complaints, but he was more interested in the mouth against his skin than anything else.
“You have to eat every day.” Bishop always insisted on food. It could be terribly inconvenient. “So we’re going to the kitchen, Jase made osso buco.”
“I’m not hungry. He understands. He’s a good kid.”
“Osso buco—do you even know what that is? It’s fancy restaurant food. And he might understand, but I don’t.”
“I do know what it is. Has the kid decided to go to culinary school?”
“Nope. He just likes experimenting. He’s trying to impress Rookie.” Bish laughed. “It’s working, too.”
“If I eat a bite will you stop fussing?”
“Yep. Come on.”
He rolled his eyes—half-irritated about losing work time, half-irritated about not getting fucked.
Bish wrapped an arm around his waist and they were halfway to the kitchen before he added. “I do believe there are special activities planned for dessert, too.”
Like Knight wanted dessert. The paint was calling him.
He had to admit that the kitchen smelled amazing when they got there, the table set for four, lit candles in the middle of it. He put his hands on his hips. “Look at all this.”
Jason gave him a quiet smile. “Thanks, Knight. I hope it’s good.”
“It smells amazing, honey—it’s going to be awesome.” Rook gave Jason a kiss, then came over and gave him one. “Thanks for joining us.”
He rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Just for a bit. Working. I should wash up.”
“Sink’s free. You need to use edible paint so I can lick you clean.” Rook was such a horndog. As always.
“Uh-huh.” Right. He went to the kitchen sink and started scrubbing hard, nails dragging on his skin.
Bishop came and stood behind him, hands following his, moving over his skin. He could feel Bishop’s erection pressing against him. He leaned back into it, breathing deep, the scent of his lover and the food together was fascinating.
Groaning, Bishop dropped his mouth back onto Knight’s neck, lips leaving hot, sucking kisses.
“Mouse. Mouse, tell me you’re not going to make me eat.”
Bishop growled. “He worked all day on this. You owe me one.”
“I owe you thousands.” Was he that much of an asshole? Really? Probably. He dried his hands, moved from in front of the sink and headed for the table.
Bishop rolled his eyes and grabbed Knight up. “I meant you owe me another one.” Then Bish picked him up and slung him over one shoulder. “Put ours in the oven to keep warm.”
“Bish?” Knight blinked, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.
Rook giggled. “Have fun guys.”
Bish waited until they were almost in their room. “You said you
didn’t want to eat. You called me Mouse.”
“I just… I need you. Just you.” But he didn’t want to be a jerk.
“Yeah, I figured that’s what you meant.” Bishop put him down onto the mattress. “I’ll always give you what you need, you know that.”
“Tell me you don’t think I’m an asshole.”
“I don’t think you’re an asshole. Neither does the kid.”
“I’m not. I’m not an asshole. I’m just…”
“A genius.”
“Make it better.” He reached for Bishop, demanding his lover’s attention.
Bishop’s lips closed over his, taking his mouth. He opened up, letting Bish in, needing touch and distraction and more. He needed more.
Growling softly, Bishop grabbed his hands and pulled them up over his head. Yes. He groaned, tugged against those strong hands, letting himself fight. Bishop held him fast, the strength of his lover actually rather stunning. Knight threw his head back, throat working, hips rolling. Bishop ground against him, their erections pressed together.
“Harder. Harder, make me scream.”
“I know what you need, Knight. I know how to make you fucking scream the house down.”
“Prove it. I need it.” Now.
“Always so pushy.” Bishop nipped at his wrist, abrading his skin.
“Know what I need. Fuck me.”
“When I’m good and ready.”
Fuck, yes. “Now.”
Bishop growled at him and bit at his wrist again, harder this time. “When I say.”
“Goddamn it!”
“Maybe I should gag you.”
“Fuck off!” There was no way. No fucking way.
Bishop’s eyes narrowed. “Bound. Gagged. And fucked through the mattress.”
“Fuck. You. I’m going back to work.”
“That’s a ‘fuck yes’ on all three.” Bishop grabbed the cuffs that were permanently attached to the headboard and began to work them onto his wrists.
“No!” He loved that he could let loose, throw his head back and fight.
“Doing it.” There was a little growl in Bishop’s voice, his lover getting a thrill out of it, too.
“No. You bastard! You let me go!” He was having a ball.
“Not happening.” Bishop tugged on the cuffs, making sure he was in them securely.
“Hate you, you evil bastard.”
“You too.” Bishop nipped his wrist again—the same one as earlier.
His fingers curled and he made a fist. Humming, Bishop bit harder, then moved to his other wrist.
“Be good. Be good to me.”
“Giving you what you need, boy.”
“Not a boy!” He shouted the words out, letting go.
“You’re mine.” Bishop’s teeth worried his other wrist.
He shook his head, but they both knew it was true.
Tongue dragging all the way, Bishop moved along his inner arm toward the crook of his elbow. His skin goose-pimpled at the touch.
“Look at your skin betraying you.”
“Stupid body, needing you like breathing.” He winked, though, letting Bish know that this was just a way to get more, to get Bish.
Bishop laughed and dove in, taking his mouth hard. The cuffs were soft on his wrists, guaranteed not to hurt as he pulled and tugged while Bishop kissed him dizzy. He could feel the heat of Bishop’s body, the thick cock like a club, promising him a good hard fucking. When Bishop was ready to give it to him. All he could do was encourage and push.
Bishop moaned and licked at his lips, fingers sure and firm, hard on his skin. They traced his heavy scars, and Knight tried to pull away. “Don’t touch them, Mouse. They’re ugly.”
“I’ll keep telling you until you believe it—they’re you, they meant you survived and there is not one ugly thing about them.” God, he did love the growl in Bishop’s voice. Bish leaned down, tongue dragging on them. “They mean you’re here and you fought to come back to me.”
Bishop’s teeth threatened, but didn’t bite.
“It was cold.” He’d been so cold for so long after the accident. He’d wanted to stay buried in the darkness.
Bishop blew on his scars. His muscles jerked, his legs drawing up. Then Bishop drew his tongue along his skin, circling the scars.
He hated them. Hated the memories they had, the sound of the plow crushing him.
Bishop began nibbling them, mouth working its way along them. Knight squeezed his eyes shut, not sure what he needed—to feel more or to ignore it.
Bishop gave his hips a sharp pinch. “Pay attention, baby.”
“Ouch!” He glared down. “I want to be back to what I was, you know?”
“You are. I like the scars, boy. I love every single one of them.”
“You can’t like them! They’re scars!” Blemishes.
“They mean you’re alive, Knight. They mean you came back to me. I love them.”
“I needed you.” More than he’d needed the pain to stop.
“You still need me, boy.”
Knight nodded, swallowing hard. Still. Always.
Bishop bit at his scars now, teeth scraping.
“Hey.” Oh, that made his toes curl.
“Mine.” The word growled out of Bishop and came with more teeth, this time it was more of a bite.
“No biting!” God, he felt that.
“Oh, yes. Biting. We love the biting.”
“Butthead! I said no biting!”
“It’s what I say goes, boy. Not you.”
“I’M NOT A BOY!” Fuck, he needed this, to scream, to fight.
“You are!” Bishop bit just below the longest of his scars. Hard.
He groaned, his toes curling hard. “Fucker!”
“Yes.” Bishop’s teeth sank into him again. It didn’t sting, but had a bruised feeling that went deep.
Bishop kept doing it, teeth traveling the paths of his scars. By the time Bish crossed his body, Knight was hoarse, panting, aching.
“This is you, boy. This is mine.”
He shook his head, and even that act buzzed inside him.
Bishop’s tongue followed his teeth, licking all the places where he’d bitten. Knight’s skin tingled, the heat and cool odd, and it felt different where the scars were. Then Bishop found one of his nipples and worried it with his teeth, adding to the sensations beating him. The ring was flicked, over and over, and all the while those teeth worked him. Finally, Bishop grabbed the ring between his teeth and tugged it, drawing his nipple away from his chest.
“Bish!” Knight pulled at the cuffs, struggling hard, kicking and screaming.
“Gonna blindfold you, gag you.” Bishop stood, tugging on the ring in his cock.
“Don’t go.” He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.
“I’m just grabbing a blindfold and a gag, baby.”
“You’ll stay with me. Here.”
“We’re in my room, boy. I’m not going anywhere.”
He wasn’t a boy. Still, the words were a comfort, sure and easy.
Bishop came back, straddled his body. He pressed his lips closed tight, even as he wiggled his hips, rubbing against Bish.
“So pushy.” Bishop looked pleased about that.
“Mmmhmm.”
“I’m going to put a ball in your hand. You drop it if you want to safeword, okay, baby?”
Knight nodded, swallowed hard, but didn’t open his lips.
“Good boy.” Bishop took one of the pieces of leather he’d brought back and pressed it against his lips. He didn’t open up for the gag, but he held the ball tight, not dropping it.
Bishop growled softly at him, the sound going straight to his balls. His sac drew up, so tight, making him gasp. The leather slipped between his open lips.
God damn it. He glared, trying to push the gag out.
Bishop lifted his head and tied the leather behind his neck. He growled, muttering around the leather. Asshole.
Bishop just grinned at him. “No
w do I use the blindfold, or let you see what’s coming…”
Fucker. Asshole. Bastard.
“Oh, I think I want to see those eyes during this whole thing.” Fuck, Bish was looking at him like he was edible.
His lover licked his own lips, still staring at Knight. His breath sped, his heart slamming in his chest. They stayed like that, the tension ratcheting up. Knight began to shake, a soft keening escaping him through the gag.
“Love you.” Dropping down, Bishop latched onto his right nipple, sucking hard as he flicked the ring with his tongue.
Knight screamed through the gag, hips bucking as his body fought to come.
Bishop didn’t have to tell him not to come, his lover’s hand was around his balls, squeezing them, tugging them and keeping him from shooting. Asshole. Prick. Bastard. Evil fucker.
Bishop moved to his other nipple, tugged on the ring, then bit at his skin. His eyelids dropped closed and colors flashed behind his eyes, bright and sparkling, his biggest addiction. Bishop’s fingers weren’t still, either. Bishop slid them along his skin, pushed them into his muscles. He was going to be bruised. The reds inside him deepened into purples, then became rich blues and he groaned, twisting in the storm of desire.
Leaving his nipples behind, Bishop began to work the skin along his scars again, teeth worrying, tongue licking. Those were a sickly yellow, but Bish painted them with splashes of violet. When Bish opened his mouth around the biggest one and hummed, the violet went neon bright.
Tears flowed from him, but he barely noticed, his world was ringing. Bishop claimed every single inch of him, lips and tongue so good on his skin. It was almost like a dream, like a fantasy, distant and fuzzy.
Then Bishop twisted his nipple rings—together—and it all sharpened up again. His eyes flew open and he saw Bish—his heartbeat. A fucking Greek god, that was his Bish.
“I love you.”
Knight nodded. He didn’t know why, but he was damned thankful for it.
Bishop’s mouth dropped over his, kissing him through the leather gag. He fought for more, to feel that burning tongue. He swore he could feel Bishop’s teeth biting at his lips through the leather. Pulling at the cuffs, he fought to touch, to get to Bish.
It was hot and heavy and so good.
Bish spread over him, covering him, keeping him still and warm. Then his lover began talking, soft low sounds that formed words of praise and love. This was his and his alone, this intimacy, this care. No one else saw this side of their Bish.
