Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits

by Jenna Hilary Sinclair

  “You belong to me whether you’re wearing my collar or not, Nicky,” Damian said, sweeping his boy into a ferocious hug, unable to withstand the sight of Nick’s distress any longer.

  “Thank you,” Nick said, his arms coming up to circle Damian hesitantly.

  Damian turned his head and kissed Nick, the sweetest, most tender kiss he had yet bestowed on him. “You’re trembling, baby. Do you want me to take you home?”

  Nick shook his head no, but his eyes were shadowed and Damian couldn’t read his desires as he had so often before.

  “No, I want you to… to take me… take me to your bed… and… and….” Nick gasped, as if frightened by his own boldness. “Make love to me. Sir,” he added hopefully.

  Damian crushed Nick close to his heart. He was frighteningly happy; Nick wanted more than his dominance; he wanted his love.

  “Do you love me, Nick?” he demanded harshly.

  “Yes, oh yes,” Nick answered breathlessly.

  Damian drew him under the street lamp and searched his face. “Look at me carefully, Nick. I’m older than you, and you are just starting your life. I have wrinkles, and aches that plague me. Sometimes I’m only able to come once a night. I may not be able to fulfill you sexually forever. And I’m a kinky old buzzard. I will always thrill to the sight of you bent over my knee getting your ass warmed up. I can’t promise that I’ll ever want to stop spanking you.”

  “You’re not old!” Nick cried indignantly. “And I’m not that young. You are beautiful to me, and my hip aches sometimes. You may be able to come only once a night, but you know how to last and I don’t. You take care of me. And I like it when you warm my arse. I don’t want you to stop.”

  “You know what you’re agreeing to, don’t you, baby?” Damian asked anxiously. “I’m fine just playing, but when I pledge my heart, it’s forever. You’re agreeing that you’ll be mine ’til death do us part. No one else gets to see this ass but me.”

  “I know what I’m agreeing to, Damian,” Nick answered, his eyes shining. “I don’t want anyone else to see my arse. And you belong to me as much as I belong to you,” he ended proudly.

  “I do,” Damian admitted. “I’m a sad shell of a man, Nicky. This is what you’ve done to me. Beaten me at my own game. I’m afraid I can’t do without you any longer.”

  “I love you, Ian,” Nick said bravely.

  Damian shook his head ruefully. “Ashley was right. It’s the Top who’s the slave.”

  Nick laughed confidently. “Right then. Take me home, slave.”

  “I’ll take you home and fuck you ’til you scream,” Damian said.

  “No, just make love to me,” Nick said, touching Damian’s face with gentle fingers.

  “I can do that,” Damian said, smiling to see the hopeful, happy look in his boy’s eyes after the pinched, miserable expression in the club. “Promise me that you’ll never agree to anything again just to make me happy.”

  “I promise, sir,” Nick vowed solemnly.

  “I love you, Nicky, more than I can say,” he said, tightening his hold on Nick.

  “I love you too, Damian,” Nick said, smiling.

  “Let’s go home, baby.”

  Epilogue

  DAMIAN UNLOCKED the door and pulled Nick into the house, closing it behind them and pushing the boy up against it, attacking his lips as if they had never kissed before.

  Nick opened his mouth, dueling for dominance against Damian’s tongue, demanding his share more hungrily.

  Damian grabbed his hair and held his head, breaking the kiss to look into the beautiful dark eyes. “In spite of everything, you still love me?”

  Nick asked boldly, “Do you love me?”

  “I have from the moment I saw you. I was just lying to myself,” Damian admitted. “I wanted you so bad—”

  “You have me,” Nick said. “Take me. I’m all yours.”

  “Not here. In my bed,” Damian said. He led the way quickly upstairs, not bothering to turn on any lights until he got to his bedroom. He released Nick long enough to light a few candles.

  Then he turned to Nick, lifting him with his hands cupped around each cheek of the boy’s ass. Nick wrapped his legs around Damian’s waist and bent to kiss the older man as he was carried to the bed.

  He giggled as Damian tossed him onto the mattress, and he almost bounced off the other side.

  With mock severity, Damian said, “I can’t have my sub giggling at me. You’ll have to be taught a lesson.”

  “Yes, teach me a lesson, Master,” Nick said, his voice throbbing with desire. He held out his arms to Damian, who bent to kiss him savagely.

  He caught Nick behind the knee and yanked him to the edge of the mattress, his butt barely hanging off the edge. Damian undid the leather trousers and struggled to strip them off the long, slender legs. Nick wriggled to aid him in his struggle with getting the pants past his boots. With a cry of triumph, Damian rid him of both at once.

  He simply ripped Nick’s shirt open, disregarding such niceties as buttons, and bent to claim each tempting nipple in turn, nipping and tugging at the tender flesh until his lover was begging and writhing with arousal.

  Damian released him to strip off his own clothing, growling, “This is why I don’t like to wear leather. It’s so fucking sticky, especially when you’d kill to be naked! Get the supplies!”

  Nick giggled with delight, watching his lover hopping around with one sweaty leg stuck inside his pant leg until superior strength won out. Nick held out the lube and their fingers touched when Damian took it.

  Their eyes locked, and the smile died away from Nick’s face at the intensity of the look Damian was giving him.

  “I will always love you, Nicholas.”

  “I’ll always love you, Damian. I always loved you.”

  Damian pulled one slender leg over his shoulder and Nick let the other fall to the side, opening himself fully to Damian’s gaze. “So beautiful and all mine. Forever mine,” Damian murmured, delighting in the golden body lying there, eager to be claimed by him.

  He slicked his fingers, stunned to realize they were trembling as if this were the first time he was taking Nick.

  Damian worked his fingers into the boy’s entrance, stretching him gently, although he was shaking with the need to bury his neglected cock deep inside him. Withdrawing his fingers, he put his right knee on the bed alongside Nick, bracing his left on the floor for leverage. He leaned over the boy, carefully working his cock into the tight heat. Nick pushed his arse up to meet the invasion, running his hands up Damian’s arms, his eyes fearlessly open, looking up at the man who was taking him.

  Damian marveled that during sex Nick hid nothing, his eyes like mirrors in which every feeling could be read. He was shaken by the boy’s trust; not only to have allowed Damian the freedom of his body for his dominance but also for his lovemaking. He wanted to give Nick a different kind of pleasure tonight, to assure him that they would find many ways to make love.

  Slowly Damian pulled back and braced himself to sink deeply inside, finding the cluster of nerves that made Nick arch and moan. With great care, Damian thrust deeply, changing his motion to rotate his hips, caressing every inch of the inner walls, finding and stimulating every sensitive spot.

  Nick was in heaven, wrapping his free leg around Damian’s waist and using it to pull the older man deeper inside him. He ran his hands up and down Damian’s arms, feeling the rock-hard muscle flex and release as his lover thrust inside him.

  He had never felt so filled, or so claimed before.

  “Touch yourself, baby. Touch yourself for me.”

  Nick watched his love watch him as he stroked himself in time to Damian’s thrusts, the cock inside him fucking him to even higher arousal. Damian’s eyes flicked between Nick’s hand and his face as he worked himself toward his climax, sweat rolling off him as he moved.

  Nick cried out as Damian changed his rhythm suddenly, brushing forcefully over the seat of pleasure. He arched his ba
ck and closed his eyes, pearly drops of cum splashing over his stomach and chest.

  The sight of his boy lost in rapture and the tight little hole clenching around his cock drove Damian into a frenzy of lust, plunging deeply with all the strength in his legs, their flesh slapping together as he came. “I love you!” he cried as he froze, rigid with the last tremors of release, and then relaxed.

  Nick slowly brought his leg off Damian’s shoulder, clasping his legs behind the other man’s waist. For the first time, he’d felt the fire of the other man’s cum filling him and he wanted to keep Damian seated inside him forever.

  “Come here,” he said softly, holding out his arms.

  “I forgot the condom,” Damian groaned as he lowered his weight onto the slender body.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Nick said. “I wanted to feel you come inside me from the start. And I won’t ever be fucking anyone else, so it’s okay.”

  “Love you, baby,” Damian mumbled. He fell asleep, in the comfort of Nick’s arms.

  Nick lay awake, tears sliding from the corners of his eyes and rolling into his hair. He had never felt this happy in his life.

  “You are mine,” he whispered, and kissed Damian’s cheek.

  Damian sighed in his sleep and wrapped his arm snugly around Nick’s waist.

  Six months later

  NICK SLAMMED the door open and raced to find Damian, finally tracking him down in the room they called the library, mainly because most of the books lived there.

  “I got a show!” he cried out, waving a piece of paper frantically, so that Damian couldn’t see it. “In a real gallery!”

  The older man looked up with a fond smile. “You’ve got a show all to yourself?”

  “Of course not, silly,” Nick said, landing in Damian’s lap with a leap. “I’m only one of six ‘Up and Coming Young Artists,’ but isn’t it great?”

  “It’s wonderful,” Damian agreed. “When is this show?” he asked, trying to capture the piece of paper from his young lover.

  “In six weeks. I’m going to have to work like a fiend,” Nick declared. “Don’t I deserve a reward? You said—”

  “Yes, I did, and you do deserve a reward, my love,” Damian answered, much amused. “Go get your paddle, and we’ll see what we can do to make this young artist up and coming.”

  Nick jumped off his lap and ran up the stairs two at a time. Damian chuckled at his eagerness and pulled his chair out from behind his desk.

  When Nick reappeared, paddle in hand, Damian said, “All right, pet. I’m going to take those trousers down and give you a paddling like you’ve never had before. I’m going to make that beautiful bottom so hot and red you won’t be sitting on it for a week.”

  Nick squeaked with excitement and hurried over to his lover, handing him the paddle and standing submissively to his right. Damian’s fingers undid his trousers and pushed them down, leaving him with only his boxers to cover him. He tipped the boy over his lap and pushed the boxers down to his knees to join his jeans.

  Damian stroked over the pale beautiful globes with the smooth acrylic paddle. “And now pet, what do you say?”

  “Thank you, sir,” Nick said. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, baby.”

  Whack!

  CATT FORD lives in front of the computer monitor, in another world where her imaginary gay friends obey her every command.

  She likes cats, chocolate, swing dancing, sleeping, Monty Python, Aussie friends, being silly, spinning other realities with words, and sea glass. She dislikes caterpillars, cigarette smoke, and rude people who think the F-word (as in faggot, or bundle of sticks) is acceptable.

  A frustrated perfectionist, she comforts herself with the legend about the weavers of Persian rugs always including one mistake so as not to anger the gods, although she has no need to include a mistake on purpose. One always slips through. Writing fiction has filled a need for clever conversations, only possible when one is in control of both sides, and erotic romances, where everything for the most part turns out happily ever after.

  Blog: http://catt-ford.livejournal.com/

  By CATT FORD

  Bullheaded

  Bully for You

  With Sean Kennedy: Dash and Dingo

  Extreme Bull

  Hook, Line, and Sinker

  The Last Concubine

  Lily White Rose Red

  Long Way Home

  Murder at the Rocking R

  Riding Out the Bull

  A Strong Hand

  Summer Fever

  The Untold Want

  Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  To everyone in CPRW, I’m so glad I found you.

  To Dominic, the love of my life,

  without whose support I couldn’t do any of this.

  And to the staff at Dreamspinner Press,

  for everything you do to make me look good.

  You’re the best.

  Chapter 1

  GEOFF LAUGHTON woke in a strange bed, light streaming through the windows, a huge, hot, sweaty body next to him. His head pounded and his ass hurt. “That was one hell of a night,” he muttered to himself as he forced his legs to move. Sitting on the edge of the bed, head cradled in his hands, he tried to think where he was. Oh yeah, he’d gone out dancing last night with Lonnie and Juan.

  He turned to the man lying prone on the bed. “God….” He remembered—well, at least parts of it. Tequila shooters followed by dancing with a tree. “That must be him.” Like it usually did, the rest came back to him in a rush: dancing, him climbing his dance partner. Hell, he’d even stuck his hand down the guy’s pants.

  His head throbbed again, and he made himself get to his feet to stumble to the bathroom. He didn’t bother to turn on the light, probably couldn’t find it anyway, and managed to make it to the sink. Turning on the tap, he put his hands under the cool water and splashed his face, groaning with relief as the water tingled on his skin. “At least I’m alive.” Turning off the water, he used the facilities and then walked a little more steadily back into the bedroom to find his bed partner awake and groaning.

  “What day is it?” He was holding his head and moaning softly. “Fuck, I hate tequila.” He looked up at Geoff, eyes as red as Geoff’s had been when he’d seen them in the mirror.

  “Sunday, thank God.” Geoff started looking around for his clothes, finding his pants near the bed and pulling them on.

  “Easy for you to say. I gotta go to work.” The huge man looked at the clock. “Fuck… gotta be there in half an hour.” He lifted himself to his feet and shuffled toward the bathroom, the door closing softly, very softly.

  Geoff searched the room and managed to find the rest of his clothes. After dressing, he definitely didn’t want to move too quickly. He shuffled in the general direction of the kitchen.

  “There is a god.” The coffee maker was plugged in and set. Geoff pressed the start button, and the machine took over and was soon filling the space with the heavenly smell of fresh brewed.

  Geoff heard the shower start and then stop a few minutes later. Searching the cupboards, he found two cups. They appeared clean, unlike the rest of the apartment, and he waited until the coffee was finished before filling the cups and walking back to the bedroom.

  The door was part way open and… ummm, Gary… yeah, that was his name, Gary… was getting dressed. Pushing open the door, Geoff quietly handed Gary a filled mug.

  “Thanks, dude, I really need this.” Gary sipped the drink and put the mug on the table. “I gotta be gone in about two minutes.”

  Geoff nodded, sipped his coffee—damn, that was good—and turned around, letting Gary finish getting ready. By the time Gary emerged from the bedroom, Geoff had finished his coffee and felt vaguely human again. “Thanks, Gary, I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah, dude… thanks.”

  Gary was still finishing his coffee as Geoff left the apartment and headed down the stairs to the fr
ont door of the seventies-era apartment building. Once outside, the air helped to clear his head, and he searched the parking lot for his car, finding it right across the way.

  Fishing his keys out of his pocket and getting in, he started the car, pulling out of the space and heading toward home—well, what passed for home, anyway.

  His old car managed to get him there, and he parked in his reserved spot and headed up the walk to his building. It was newer than the one he’d just left: eighties chic instead of seventies. He let himself in and went up the stairs to his apartment.

  Inside, there wasn’t much: a sofa, a chair, and a television on a stand. Geoff tossed his keys on the counter and looked longingly to the bathroom. He had to wash the smell of booze, sweat, and spunk off his body. Geoff headed straight to his bedroom, which was furnished in the same sparse manner as the rest of the apartment: just a bed and a dresser. Stripping off his clothes, he went into the bathroom. He made the mistake of turning on the light and looking in the mirror. “Fuck.” His eyes were dark and his skin pasty. “The mirror never lies, does it?”

  Geoff began cleaning up, brushing his teeth and shaving before starting the water and stepping beneath the spray. The shower felt good—cleansing, refreshing. He started to scrub, and he could almost feel the remnants of the last night washing down the drain.

  The phone was ringing as he got out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he raced to answer it.

  “Geoff, it’s Raine. How’s the hangover?”

  Geoff knew that Raine had purposely started talking loudly. “Bastard.” He heard laughter on the other end of the phone. “Actually, it’s not so bad… not as bad as it could be, anyway. How’s yours?”

  There was more laughter on the end of the line. “I don’t get hangovers, remember?” It was one of life’s cruel fates. Raine could drink like a fish and never seemed to feel anything the next morning. “You want to meet for coffee?”