Syncopation

by Anna Zabo

  “What?” Zavier fingered the collar.

  Ray’s face was joy. “I never see you like this. And I’m so fucking happy, I could fly.”

  Zavier parsed the second sentence before the first, since the first made no sense. “We’ve played this game before. You’ve seen me over you before.”

  The joy remained, but Ray’s smile fell to an intense seriousness Zavier had only seen on him when he talked music. “We’re not playing a game.”

  Oh. Oh. Zavier swallowed, and the world did one of those standing still things that sometimes happened in his life. Turning points. Precipices. Moments when everything going forward would be different. Had happened when he’d opened that letter from Juilliard, when he’d first seen a man tied up and flogged, and when he’d walked into HR in Silverton to tender his resignation.

  He’d asked Ray to marry him. In return Ray asked for a collar. No, they weren’t playing anymore. Maybe they never had been. He’d wanted to help Ray from the moment he’d read that apology of his, wanted to see how Ray had grown and changed. Now? He was twined into Ray. Planted in his life.

  “How long have you needed me?”

  “Since high school. But I don’t think that’s the question you’re asking.” Ray suddenly didn’t look at all submissive, despite kneeling at Zavier’s feet. “Need means so many things. Want, too. All words have layers.”

  Yeah, he shouldn’t underestimate a songwriter. Zavier tucked that away. “What am I asking?”

  Ray chuckled. “There’s how I’d phrase the question, and how you’d phrase the question. What you’re asking, and how you’d say it, is ‘How long have you trusted me?’”

  Okay, that did sound a little like him. “And?” He raised an eyebrow.

  Ray raised his in return. “I love it when you’re imperious.”

  “I am holding a collar in my hand. I’m assuming you want it around your neck.”

  “I do, yeah. Because I want to belong to you and you want me to belong to you.”

  Lightning in his veins. Ray knew him perhaps better than he knew himself, at least in some things. “Not all the time.”

  “No. Not all the time in the whole Dominant and submissive way.” Ray’s smile was crooked and charming. “We’d both hate that.”

  Zavier slipped the leather collar around Ray’s neck, and Ray’s eyes fluttered shut. He seemed to melt as Zavier buckled it on, tight enough. But not too much. “Now...how long have you trusted me?”

  “Got two answers for that,” Ray murmured. His voice, like his body was soft. Ah, subspace. “My head—the one on top of my neck—has trusted you since the night on the bus.”

  Zavier didn’t need to be told which one.

  “But my soul?” Ray opened his eyes and stared up at Zavier. “Since the audition, when you played ‘White Hot Midnight.’”

  Zavier yanked on the collar, pulling Ray up, even as he bent down. Their mouths met and Zavier devoured Ray and his moans. Or perhaps it was the other way round. Ray’s fingers were caught in Zavier’s shirt, holding, tugging, grounding them both in this moment.

  Partner. Yes. That was the best word. At least until it could be husband.

  Zavier broke the kiss. “We’re going to need the bed you so neatly covered in toys cleaned off.”

  Ray laughed and slid back to kneeling. “Pick what you want to use on me, and I’ll put the rest away.”

  There was that incredible flare of desire—Zavier wanted Ray in every possible manner right now. But that wasn’t feasible, let alone practical. Someday soon, he’d make a list of his fantasies, check them with Ray, then begin to cross them all off, one by one. But tonight?

  He took the rope, the flogger, and the crop. They’d played a bit with them before, but now there wasn’t a need to be careful about how much skin he could or couldn’t mark. He grabbed the bottle of lube and eyed the condoms. A notion, a heat flared in him. Yes, he wanted to possess Ray. Own him.

  “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t fuck you bareback?”

  Ray’s breathing hitched, and then he was silent. Zavier didn’t turn, just kept staring at the condoms. Finally, Ray spoke. “No. I was tested for pretty much everything under the sun at the hospital. I’m good. Even my cholesterol.” He let out a sigh that Zavier matched mentally with one of Ray’s little shoulder shrugs. “Plus I’ve been on PrEP for a while now.”

  “Pretty much the same for me, sans hospital.”

  “Your cholesterol’s good?”

  Zavier laughed and turned. “I’m a tiny bit close to high, but it’s all the good type of cholesterol.”

  Ray was smirking. His arrogant, lovely man.

  “Clean off the bed, Ray.” Zavier settled back into his chair, setting down his supplies on the table next to it, and enjoyed the view of Ray carefully laying all their toys back into Zavier’s duffle. Including the condoms.

  It was symbolic, of course. But also not at all. His fingertips itched and he wanted to touch every part of Ray. Bite him. Make him cry.

  Ray? Ray wouldn’t be naked and wearing a leather collar if he had any objections. Still, Zavier tilted his head and asked, “Safewords?”

  “Traffic lights, Zav. I know. You’ve never done anything I haven’t liked.”

  True. “Someday, though, I’ll hit a limit.”

  Ray stilled and nodded. “Yeah, probably.” He zipped up the bag. “You got one? A safeword?”

  He did. He’d only ever needed it once in his life, when Nadia had tied him up. But he’d not spoken it then. Never said it to stop a scene. “It’s baroque.”

  Ray blinked a few times. “Please don’t tell me you chose it because of the whole ‘if it’s not baroque’ joke.”

  Zavier laughed. Because yes, yes he had. For the sheer artistic fuckery. Because he was an asshole.

  Ray shook his head, put the bag in the closet, crossed the room, and knelt before Zavier again. He put his hands at the small of his back and tipped his chin up. “Please fuck me already. Or flog me. Or both. I need to feel you. Need to know this is real.”

  As if Zavier needed a reason for his dick to be harder. “Oh, you will. And it is.” He picked up one of the smaller cuffs. “Give me your wrist.”

  He did, and Zavier kissed the pulse point before buckling the cuff on. Did the same with the other, and by the time he was done, Ray was flushed from the chest up. Practically panting. “Turn around, Ray.”

  He used the tiny clip dangling from one cuff and secured the two together, locking Ray’s hands firmly behind his back. Zavier spoke. “Face me.”

  The softness was back. That sweet touch of Ray giving everything over. All his trust. His body. Everything. Zavier stood and stepped in close, and there was the spark of recognition, the drop in Ray’s shoulders.

  “Oh god yes, please.” Ray moaned the words.

  Someone wanted a dick in his mouth. “Since you’re not singing in the near future...” Zavier unzipped, pushed everything aside, grasped Ray’s collar, and slipped his cock into Ray’s very willing mouth.

  They both groaned, and the vibrations around Zavier’s shaft were something else. Yes, he’d let Ray suck him before, but this time? Ray was all in. Licking, sucking, taking him deep. Over and over, with an enthusiasm he rarely saw from guys who mostly topped.

  “Fuck, Ray.” Zavier tightened his fingers around the leather collar and slid his other hand into Ray’s hair. “Where the hell did you learn to suck cock?”

  Ray pulled off and licked the tip. So fucking good, that. “Glory holes.” A flash of a smile, then Ray’s hot mouth was back around Zavier’s dick, and it took everything Zavier had not to empty his balls down Ray’s throat.

  Fucking Ray had been holding out on him, depraved soul that he was. Zavier tightened both his grips, holding Ray’s head still, and thrust in. And again. And again, until he was fucking Ray’s mouth and throat
with abandon. Ray didn’t flinch. He did moan and shake and make sounds that were so damn obscene they should be in a high-quality porno. So was Ray’s stare, full of blinking and watery eyes and a look that seemed to say I can damn well take anything you give.

  It was almost a pity to stop, but if he wanted to fuck Ray’s ass like he intended, he needed to, or the evening would be over before he’d even started. He pulled out.

  Zavier wasn’t sure which of them was breathing more heavily, him or Ray. “Glory holes, huh?”

  Ray’s voice was jacked and rough, but still so beautiful. “Yeah. I—uh—may have gotten some of my seed money for the band from swallowing other guys’...well. Yeah.” A little furrow between his brows. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

  He smoothed his thumbs over Ray’s cheeks and those plump, ruddy, well-fucked lips. “Not in the least. Remember, I learned much of what I know about BDSM from a rather infamous madam.” He paused. “And I may have made some money as an escort.”

  “May? Like you don’t know?” A quirky little smile.

  “Did make. Enjoyed it, too.”

  Ray’s sigh was a happy thing. “Yeah. Ditto.”

  So much he knew about Ray. So much he didn’t. This would be a grand adventure. One to last a lifetime. “Up, Ray. I’m tying you to the bed.”

  He wouldn’t tire of that little happy moan in the back of Ray’s throat. Ray rose with grace and moved like he hadn’t just spent quite a bit of time kneeling on the carpet. Zavier took a moment to tuck his dick back into his pants—as much as he could, given its state—and to grab the lengths of rope he’d pulled from the bed. Arranging Ray was easy enough; Zavier bent him over the bed. He had to unclip the wrist cuffs to have Ray stretch his arms overhead, then reclip them. Ray was both squirmy and relaxed, his sinuous body moving just so.

  “You better not be humping the bedspread.”

  Ray huffed a laugh. “I won’t come until you say.”

  “You’d better not.” Zavier could wield a crop for pain as equally as for pleasure. “And stop moving.”

  Ray did, though his muscles flexed a little before he gave in.

  It took Zavier longer than he’d like to anchor the ropes to the bed. Once he’d managed, though, he tied Ray’s arms overhead and each ankle—once he’d cuffed them, pulled toward the sides of the bed. Ray open and exposed for him. “Comfortable?”

  “You have no idea,” Ray murmured, and it was that faraway voice Zavier loved to hear.

  “You’re still wearing my bracelet.” The leather band rode low on Ray’s ankle.

  “Reminds me of you.”

  Interesting. He smoothed a hand over Ray’s ass, then up his back. He didn’t quite understand, no. He’d never managed to fall into subspace, but this? It was a headspace of its own. The trust he’d been given.

  He returned to the table by the chair and claimed the last of his items. Flogger, crop, and lube. The latter he set down on the floor, and set the crop next to it.

  He smacked his hand with the flogger, and Ray twitched and moaned. “I wonder if I could make you come from just that sound.” He did it again and, as Ray laughed, flicked the flogger across his ass.

  That got him a much louder moan. “Shit.”

  “Just you wait.” He worked over Ray’s cheeks and thighs and shoulders, warming the skin, ruddying it under the ink. Ray was a delight of moans and twists and curses until he wasn’t—and that was a glory, too. That moment when the motion and the pain swept over Ray and took him higher and higher.

  “There you go.” Zavier’s cock throbbed and his mind whirled. Such strength in Ray. Such grace in submission. He slowed the flogger to stopping and switched it out for the crop. “Safewords?”

  “Mmm. Red, yellow, and baroque.” More like sleepy words. “Won’t need ’em.”

  Zavier resisted the urge to land the first one hard. Still, he put enough sting into it that Ray jumped, his limbs twitching. “Shit.”

  “Mmmhmm.” He upped the ante with the next and the next until Ray was gasping and moaning and twisting in a completely different way than he had under the flogger. Both the edge of pain and pleasure sounded in Ray’s throat. Groans and pants. Curses.

  “You like that?” He raised a few welts on Ray’s shoulders. His marks on top of the ink. So nice. Zavier’s blood was on fire with need. For Ray’s tears. For his sobs. To kiss and fuck them away.

  “Fuck no. Yes,” Ray hissed. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”

  He didn’t. Not until Ray’s voice broke and Zavier got exactly what he wanted—Ray overloaded and weeping and begging for more and no more at the same time. He gave three last strokes, then stopped.

  A few moments passed before Zavier realized he was shaking. Probably as much as Ray was. He dropped the crop and went around the bed so he could see Ray’s face, touch his hair, and wipe away his tears with trembling fingers. “Shh. Ray. It’s over. I’m here.”

  “Didn’t want you to stop.” Ray’s eyes were rimmed with red. “Glad you did.” He sighed and melted into the mattress.

  Zavier kissed his cheek until Ray turned and offered his mouth. Lips against lips. Tongues tangled.

  Then Ray was exhaling again. “God, that was so good.”

  For Zavier, too—in control and yet also out of it. Trembling. On fire. He traced the welts on Ray’s shoulders. “I left marks. Bruises everywhere.”

  Ray shuddered.

  Felt right to lean over and kiss that raised skin. Nibble here and there. Listen to Ray hiss and moan. Feel that lithe body rock under his touch. He worked his way back to Ray’s ear and whispered into it. “I want my come inside you.”

  Full-body shudder and a delicious moan. “Fuck, Zav.”

  “Tell me you want it.”

  “Shit, Zav. I want everything you give me. Yeah, I want it. Fuck me. Claim me. Paint my insides.”

  He nearly came right there. Ray’s stunning voice, all in pieces, muttering those words. He kissed him again, harder, before pulling away and fetching the lube.

  He’d never fucked anyone without a condom. But lubing his dick, fingering Ray, then sliding into his body? Felt so fucking right Zavier couldn’t catch his breath for a moment. “Jesus, Ray.”

  Ray shuddered and moaned. “Fuck yeah, Zav, I need—”

  Zavier pulled back and slammed in deep. “You need to take what I give you.”

  The answer Ray gave was a gasp and a long moan.

  “Yes, exactly like that.” Zavier quickened his pace—he wasn’t going to last long, given how tight Ray was. How he thrashed and humped and babbled. And neither would Ray.

  He raked his fingers over the marks he’d left on Ray’s back, dug his fingers into Ray’s hips, and let himself go. No caution, no restraint. He fucked as if every piece of Ray belonged to him. Hot and tight and marked and beautiful. A mind that saw music and a soul that understood his. Zavier squeezed his eyes shut against the pleasure, and tears fell on Ray’s back. He’d never been this high, never like he was about to shatter like dropped crystal. Heat and light cut into him.

  Ray’s moans turned sharp. “Oh god. Zav. Fuck! Yes, yes. That! Don’t...don’t—” The rest was lost in gasping and a long cry when Ray came, shuddering and shaking against the bed and Zavier’s ropes.

  Zavier broke into pieces, his own cry echoing in the room. Light blinded him and for a moment all he knew was Ray under him, Ray around him, and Ray taking his seed before he lost himself completely.

  All his senses overwhelmed him, vision hazing, limbs burning, mind swirling into heaven. He could stay here forever, inside Ray, inside this bliss, and never ever worry about anyone ever again. They were together and the rest of the world could go to hell.

  It took a little longer than normal to pull himself together. Even longer to come back down to earth. He was propped up on his arms, over Ray and still ins
ide him. He peered at Ray’s back.

  Slow, even breaths from Ray, and complete relaxation.

  “You still with me?”

  “Mmmhmm.” Ray’s voice was a whisper. “You?”

  Zavier tried to laugh, but it came out as a croak. “Yeah. Hang on, I’ll untie you.”

  “’S okay. Like you like that. On me. Stay, Zav. Stay a little longer.”

  He didn’t know why, but a knot formed in his throat. He did pull out, but only so he could crawl up and drape himself over Ray. He laid his head between Ray’s shoulder blades.

  Had to hurt—or maybe not, since Ray only sighed and melted down into the mattress. “Welcome home, Zav.”

  Zavier closed his eyes and failed at not letting the tears out. Fucking beautiful Ray Van Zeller. He’d marry the man to keep anyone else from ever hurting him again.

  * * *

  It was a little weird to wake up tied to a bed, but Ray didn’t mind. Felt strangely secure, especially with the weight and warmth of Zavier’s body over his. He could have stayed like this forever, if it hadn’t been for something so mundane as hunger.

  His stomach growled again. “Fuck.”

  Zavier shifted. “I should untie you.” Lips pressed against Ray’s back. “Should’ve earlier.”

  “It’s not that, but yeah.” The loss of Zavier’s weight and heat was disconcerting, but not as horrible as Ray had imagined it might be. “Fucking stomach wants dinner.”

  “Well, it is dinnertime.” Zavier peered at the other side of the bed. “A little past, actually.” Then he bent and freed the rope from the wrist cuffs.

  Ray left his arms where they were because it still felt good to be stretched like this. “Please do this to me again sometime.”

  A huff of laughter. “You really are perfect.”

  “Me? Fuck no. You’re the one who’s too perfect to be real. Rock-star looks. Rock-star name. Rock star—”

  “Tied down to my bed.” Zavier tapped Ray’s ass, and even the light blow sent a tangle of pain and pleasure up Ray’s back. “I should make you read some of the fanfic descriptions of you.”