by Sean Michael
Dorian took a half step back in response. “Don’t anticipate, boy. This is my show.”
“Yes, Sir. Forgive me. It was an accident.”
“You’re forgiven, boy.” He stepped forward again and this time rubbed the tip of his cock along Jared’s lips before stepping away again.
Jared offered him the sweetest moan and panted softly.
Better. Dorian took another step forward and set his prick against Jared’s lips, then pushed just the very head in between them. Jared’s suction was immediate, gentle, mesmerizing. Delicious.
He pulled out and rubbed his now-slick cockhead across Jared’s lips, then moved it in again. Every slow press in, Jared opened, tongue sliding over his shaft.
Groaning, Dorian began going in deeper with each thrust, taking Jared’s lips again and again. He wanted to see Jared’s eyes, wanted to yank the blindfold away and make sure that Jared knew who was taking him, who was fucking his lips.
He waited until he had a good rhythm going, until Jared was sucking hard every time he came almost out, and then he did it. He pulled the blindfold off and looked into Jared’s eyes.
Jared looked up at him, eyes wide as saucers, the look one of utter shock.
Smiling, he cupped Jared’s cheek and pushed in deeper. “I’ve got you, boy.”
Come on, Jared. Take me. Prove that this wasn’t the worst fucking idea in known history.
Jared blinked once, then began to suck, fast and hard, the act near desperate.
Dorian roared in triumph and grabbed hold of Jared’s other cheek, too, holding both as he fucked Jared’s handsome face. His prick slid in deep, Jared swallowing around him like they’d been doing this together for decades.
He held that gaze the entire time, letting the pull of Jared’s mouth drag him inexorably toward his orgasm.
Jared couldn’t say he didn’t know, that he wasn’t here willingly, with Dorian. Everything in him celebrated, shouted out how he was topping Jared, making that sweet sub his. He moved faster, the tip of his cock going into Jared’s throat with every push, and he felt it, the way Jared’s muscles clenched around him.
“That’s it, boy. Take it. Take me deep.” He groaned, moving faster.
Fuck, he needed to come, to pour himself into Jared’s throat like he’d dreamed of for years. He slammed in harder, driving toward his orgasm, and Jared took him, every inch, then wordlessly begged for more.
“Fucking cockhound. Big cock slut.” And he loved Jared for it.
Jared’s moan vibrated around his prick.
“Fuck!” He sawed in even faster, his orgasm right there, right at the base of his spine.
Jared looked up, watching him, seeing him. Knowing him. Him.
Dorian cried out, slamming in deep as he came down Jared’s throat, feeling the convulsions around the tip of his cock. They gave him aftershocks and he dribbled more spunk into Jared’s throat.
Then he backed off, trying to decide whether to stop the scene or press on. He met Jared’s gaze, seeing the hunger and the desire there. He would continue it, give Jared what he needed. They could talk in the morning.
5
Dorian.
Oh God.
Oh dear God.
His Dorian.
Jared couldn’t decide whether to die or just explode in pure joy.
Dorian was… intense. And a fucking amazing Dom if the last hour or so was anything to go by. Jared’s ass was beaten and filled, his mouth well-fucked. He wriggled in the chains, bound so good.
Dorian chuckled softly, walking around to tap his ass, pat it hard enough that he burned burn again. He gasped and pushed back as best he could, Dorian’s chuckle deepening.
“I have a whip.” Dorian’s fingers slid up from his ass along his back, fingernails scraping. “It’ll leave such beautiful marks. You’ll feel me for days, under your favorite gray shirt.”
A shudder moved through him. He’d never dreamed he would hear those words from Dorian.
“I’m going to make your body sing for me.”
“Y…yes, Sir.” Oh, fuck. Dorian knew. Dorian knew now.
“You’re going to count for me. And you’re going to beg me for more too.” Dorian appeared before him and wrenched his chin up, taking his lips in a fierce, brutal kiss.
He opened up for it, moaning, wanting it. Wanting more. Dorian plundered him, leaving him dizzy and breathless.
“You understand what your job is at the moment, boy?”
“Sir?” He didn’t understand anything.
“I’m going to whip you and you’re going to count each strike and beg me for more.”
His body clenched, a sudden fear flooding him, but still he nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.” Dorian’s tones were like velvet, smooth and warm.
No. No, he wasn’t sure he could do that, be good. He was afraid he might scream.
Dorian went out of sight, footsteps seeming louder now that Jared knew who they belonged to. When Dorian came back into sight, he had a whip wound around one hand, the leather thick and dark.
Jared’s belly went tight, hard, and he had to fight the urge to pull away.
“You like my whip, boy? You eager to feel it across your back? Gonna get your ass and the backs of your thighs too. Don’t worry—I know how to use it. I’ll make you feel it, but I won’t hurt you.”
“Are you sure?” He had to ask, had to because that was a huge amount of trust.
“Yes, Jared. I know exactly what I’m doing.” Dorian’s eyes were like lasers, staring into him.
“I trust you,” he whispered because he truly did.
“Good boy.” Dorian traced his features, fingers rough on his face, across his lips. “I am going to make you scream, though. I’ve dreamed about this for years.”
Dorian’s words made him gasp, made his eyes widen. God, he wanted that to be true.
“And here’s something you know about me. I’m a man of my word. I don’t tell lies.” Dorian gave him one last, steady look, then walked around him, walked behind him.
Jared knew that. That didn’t mean he wasn’t frightened. Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t want this.
Dorian’s hand landed 0n the small of his back. “I want you to breathe, and when the whip kisses your skin, I want you to take the pain in and then breathe it right out again.”
“I’ll try. I swear I’ll try.”
“It’ll be great—if you let it be. Here we go.”
The whip really did sing as it flew through the air, the sound followed by the flash of pain across his shoulders—a line of fire. He gasped, the sensation making his eyes fly open.
“Breathe,” Dorian told him. Then another line of fire licked across his back.
“Oh my God.” He sucked in his breath, shook his head. “I can’t—” He couldn’t. He just couldn’t think.
“You can. Just keep breathing. That’s all you need to do.”
Just keep breathing. Right. In and out. In and out.
“That’s it, boy. You’ll find the rhythm of my whip soon enough.”
Never. That couldn’t happen. Ever.
The whip landed across his back again, then again. After that, it crossed the first lines of fire, as did the one after that.
He fought to breathe, to suck in air. “Help me.”
“You know how to breathe, Jared. Do it. In with every hit.” Another blow landed and he inhaled, jerking in his bonds.
“Just like that.” Another blow, this time on his right buttcheek, followed by another on his left. He breathed in and out, in and out, his sounds sharp and needy.
The whip continued to come down, sometimes softly, sometimes harshly, Dorian seeming to place it exactly where he wanted to.
Jared’s entire body became a mass of burns, fiery lines crisscrossing him. His shoulders, his back, his ass, and his thighs—he swore he could feel each line from the whip, see it in his mind’s eye.
“Stunning,” murmured Dorian before snapping just th
e tip of the whip on Jared’s right ass cheek.
He jerked, trying desperately to get away, to hide, to outrun the pain.
Out of the blue, Dorian wrapped around his back, covering him, skin hot, but the places the whip had fallen were even hotter. “I need you to breathe, Jared. I know this is what you want—what you need. Don’t squander it. Sink into the pain and find your subspace. Float in it. Revel in it.” Dorian’s chin brushed his shoulder, dragged on his skin. “You’re fucking hot, boy. You were made for this.”
Dorian stayed right there as Jared fought to catch his breath.
“Close your eyes and sink into it. If you’re having trouble, I’ll put the blindfold back on.”
“I’m trying to do it right, goddammit!” He wanted to be good at this.
“Swearing and getting worked up isn’t helping you at all.” Dorian was maddeningly calm. “I know you’re trying. I’m just trying to help you succeed.”
“I know. I want to be right for you. I do.”
The blindfold covered his eyes again, so soft and gentle.
“You are. You just need to trust in yourself and in me. In us.” A kiss landed on this head, and then Dorian stood, dragging his fingers along Jared’s back and lighting every spot the whip had touched on fire. His ass cheeks clenched, the burn near unbearable.
“Breathe, boy. Just breathe. In… and out… and in… and out.” Dorian stopped talking and guided the rhythm with his own breaths.
The sweet drag of fingers on his back made Jared cry out, suck in air with every touch. Then Dorian began to trace the welts, to dance his fingers across them. Jared cried out in time, his hips beginning to shift.
Dorian hummed, the sound satisfied and happy. “Uh-huh.” The touching continued, keeping the places the whip had fallen burning, aching.
His entire body sang, buzzed with a heat that left him breathless.
Dorian squeezed his ass, the aching increasing. “You ready for more, boy?”
Dorian said boy like it was the best endearment ever.
“Master,” he whispered.
Dorian’s groan echo deep inside him.
“That’s right, boy.”
The blows began again, steady now, with a rhythm his soul could understand. He knew now that the whip was an extension of Dorian’s hand, that each fiery lick of it belonged to Dorian. One moan after another escaped him, slipped from his lips.
“That’s it, boy. I knew you’d get there. You just had to let yourself go and give yourself to me.”
That was all, huh?
Still, he was doing it, wasn’t he?
He grunted, stretched and pulled at his bonds. He had to be set loose soon.
Dorian placed a hand in the middle of his back, the warmth good, solid. “Easy. You need to listen to my will.”
All he could do was nod, feel, and breathe. He was entirely at Dorian’s mercy. Entirely. The thought sent a shiver through him.
“Mmm. Easy. Easy, boy. I have you. All is well.”
Dorian’s voice was like another caress and he relaxed into it, his body sensitized.
Dorian touched him, hand sliding over his back, not making contact with the welts from the whip this time.
“You’ve done well. It’s time to come down now. Breathe.” Dorian started with his ankles, fingers sliding along his skin and working the cuffs open. “It’s time for aftercare. We both need it.”
Aftercare. Oh, fuck, he loved the aftercare. He jonesed on it, big-time. “Please, Master. Thank you.” He’d never used that word before in his life—only Sir—and it thrilled through him, resonated, to use it now.
“Such a very good boy.” Dorian’s hands were warm as they gradually slid up his legs, heating his skin.
“Thank you.” He wanted to please. He’d wanted that before he’d discovered who was topping him. Now, it wasn’t just a want. It was pure need.
A soft kiss landed on his calf, the gentleness stunning after the hard notes of the whip.
Dorian steadily worked the bindings off his wrists as well, body hot and solid and there to support him when the chains no longer did. “Come to the bed. It’s time for a massage.”
Dorian didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, Dorian picked him up as if he weighed a pittance and carried him, then laid him down on a mattress. He knew there was a huge bed that sat in the corner of the room. This had to be it.
He blinked behind the blindfold, breathing in deep, filling his nose with Dorian’s scent. Dorian held him close and there was no feeling of disorientation as a result. The connection never dissipated either. Dorian stayed close, breathing with him and joining their worlds together.
At first, the massage was closer to simply rubbing, but then Dorian got a decent angle with them lying side by side and began massaging him. He’d been massaged during his prep earlier, but this was something else altogether. This felt like— No. No thinking. Only feeling.
Dorian shifted him, pushing him onto his stomach and straddling his back. Then the massage began in earnest, Dorian’s fingers utter magic.
The lines from the whip burned, paths of heat that made him hiss, then relax.
“That’s it. You’ve got it now.” Dorian rubbed his arms, bringing the blood flow back to them after being in the bindings for so long. “I knew you would be so pretty like this.”
Dorian had thought about him, had imagined him in this kind of situation. That was incredible.
“Thank you, Master.”
“Good boy.” Dorian sounded so pleased.
The massage traveled down his body, past his ass, and along his thighs, his calves, all the way to his ankles.
“Spread for me, boy. I want to touch you.”
It shouldn’t have been, but it was the easiest thing in the world to open his legs and expose himself to Dorian. Groaning, Dorian touched him, fingers warm.
“Tell me these are mine,” Dorian whispered, fingers ghosting over his balls.
His whole body tensed. This was just for tonight, right? Twenty-four hours? He could do anything, be anything here because until the time was up, nothing else mattered. Nothing else was real.
“Say it, Jared. Tell me these are mine.”
“They’re yours, Master.” He couldn’t help his moan.
“You’re damn right they are.” Dorian fondled them, pushing and rolling them none too gently, demanding that he paid attention, felt every second.
Dorian slipped his fingers along the soft skin behind his balls, teasing, gentle, making him shiver. “I want a ring, right here.” Dorian kept touching, rubbing and warming that one spot.
Jared wanted to cry, to twist, to spread wide and beg.
Dorian pinched the spot, making his entire body jerk. “There are people here that will do it, you know?”
Jared groaned softly, his eyes squeezed tight as he shook his head.
“Wouldn’t that be something? You and me knowing that you’ve got that ring, right there. My will buried into the skin behind your balls.” The pinch came again, then again. “You remember your safeword, don’t you?”
“Yes, Master.” He knew it and he understood how to use it. He also knew that this was part of their fantasy, the struggle, the fight.
“I’m calling them now. Get them to show up and do it before we move on to the next scene.”
“No permanent marks.”
“My mark.” Dorian removed the blindfold, and his eyes glittered down at Jared. “I want to know it’s there under those impeccable suits.” Dorian’s eyes narrowed. “Besides, a piercing isn’t necessarily permanent.”
“No. No, it’s not.” But it would be. In his heart, it would be.
Dorian got off the bed and went to the phone on the wall by the door. He lifted the receiver and dialed. Jared sat on the mattress and vibrated, not sure what he needed to do.
Dorian hung up and returned to him, detouring past a well-camouflaged fridge first and arriving at the bed with a tray of fruit. Jared’s mouth watered as Dorian sat.
/> “The sheets will be nice and cool. Sit up against the pillows, boy.”
He didn’t know what to do, so he followed instructions, his eyes on Dorian, following his best friend’s lead. He sat gingerly, between the flogging his ass had taken and the incredible plug he had in, even the cool sheets couldn’t extinguish the burn in his ass. It felt good, too, though. A reminder of Dorian’s attentions.
Dorian came closer, the look in his eyes hot—flaming, even. Then a strawberry was held out, small and red. It made his mouth water. He opened up, eager for the bite.
“The fruit should be nice and juicy—wet your mouth and throat as well as give you a nice boost of energy.”
The sweetness of the berry exploded in his mouth and he moaned, nodded. Dorian was right. No berry had ever tasted so good.
Dorian looked a little smug—the bastard—but fed him another bite. This one a raspberry, red and full of promise and tart bite. He reached up to wipe the juice from his chin, but Dorian swooped in, tongue dragging on his skin.
His whole body went tight and this… this whimper pushed out of him, completely unbidden. Dorian backed off and popped a blackberry into his mouth.
He crunched down on it, the huge berry all juice. Dorian leaned in and licked at his lips, then slipped that agile tongue into his mouth. He opened up, the kiss deep and heady, stealing what little good sense he had left.
Dorian cupped his cheek, tilted his head to the side, and pushed deeper into his mouth, moaning as they continued to kiss. He grabbed Dorian’s broad shoulders, holding on as they swayed together.
“Such an eager, needy sub. You’ve been calling to me for ages.”
“You knew?” Oh God. How embarrassing.
“I’ve wanted you for a long, long time.” Dorian pushed a slice of orange between his lips. “And there’s nothing shameful in who you are.”
The orange was weirdly bitter after the sweet berries, perfectly acidic.
Dorian chuckled and slid another strawberry into his mouth. This one had been dipped in granulated sugar, the effect delectable and luscious. Dorian rubbed his lower lip, then brought his finger back to his mouth and sucked on it, watching him the entire time.
