by Jo Davis
“Shit.”
“Don’t sweat it. We’re not going to say anything to anyone.” Emma voiced her agreement.
“I know. It’s just that I feel . . . pathetic. The man is so straight, his ass cheeks play ‘U Can’t Touch This’ when he walks.”
His friends cracked up, and Bastian couldn’t help but laugh. He hadn’t meant it as a joke, but the visual was pretty funny. And it went a long way toward lightening the mood as Blaze drove them to his house, the one he now shared with Emma.
Twenty minutes later, Blaze pulled into the drive and parked. Bastian tried to ignore the headlights of the car that followed them and parked on the street, and forget the reason the two agents were protecting them. He’d like to believe Dietz had called off his vendetta and skipped the country, but knew the odds of the asshole giving up so easily were slim.
They went inside, Blaze locking the door behind him. He looked at Bastian. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Beer?”
“Nope. You’ve had enough, and besides . . .” He leered at Bastian’s crotch. “Too much alcohol has a negative effect on the equipment.”
Damn. “You’re right. No, I’m fine.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Good. Now, the first thing we’re gonna do is some loving therapy to release all that tension in you, before you break in half.” He gestured to a door that Bastian knew hid a stairwell. “In my basement.”
Bastian swallowed, excitement flooding his veins at the memory of his initiation into Blaze’s world as a hard-core Dom. More like a taste, really. Bastian could never live that lifestyle on a permanent basis, but he’d discovered that every now and then, he enjoyed putting himself in a Dom’s capable hands. Letting his worries slide into oblivion, knowing he was safe in Blaze’s realm of rules and clear-cut expectations. All he had to do was place his trust in this man, just be, and the rest would take care of itself.
They descended the stairs, Blaze in the lead. At the bottom, the other man turned to him. “Have your needs changed since we made your contract?”
No one did a scene with the Dom without a contract, no matter how infrequent he saw the person. They’d agreed on one together the first and only time Bastian had accompanied him here. Bastian shook his head.
“Good. Safe word?”
He had to think a few seconds before he remembered. “Sable.” The color of Michael’s hair. God.
“All right. Strip.” The Dom looked at Emma, a glint in his eyes. “Both of you.”
Bastian couldn’t help but stare at Emma as she complied, and took notice of her toned, athletic body. She wasn’t his usual type, if he even had one, with her short blond hair and kick-ass attitude to match her physique. But she intrigued him. Aroused him. It still amazed him to see the woman turn to butter when Blaze so much as crooked his finger. Bastian had to admit his friend was a lucky guy.
Quickly, Bastian removed his clothes and folded them neatly, then placed them on a nearby chair. He faced the other man and stood with his hands at his sides, resisting the urge to ask what came next. Blaze would tell him.
Bastian’s cock, already half-hard, rose to full mast when Blaze came over and thumbed his nipple ring. Took it in his fingers and twisted, sending an arc of delight coursing from the tortured tip to his groin.
“Just one pierced? Too bad the other one isn’t done.” He bent and licked the nub, then took it and the ring into his mouth, suckling.
Bastian sucked in a breath, unable to recall the last person who’d played with it, which was a shame. His nipples were one of his erogenous zones, and he loved this.
Blaze straightened. “Emma, bring me that leather strap from the equipment table.”
“Yes, sir.” She hurried to get it and returned, holding it out for his inspection.
“This will do perfectly.”
For what? He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
The Dom addressed Emma again. “Use the strap to bind our boy’s cock and balls properly.”
“Yes, sir!” She knelt, putting her face tantalizingly near Bastian’s crotch.
His heart sped up. He had a pretty good idea what the binding involved, but he’d never experienced it before.
“The binding will keep you from coming until I’m ready,” Blaze explained, as though he’d sensed Bastian’s unspoken question. “You’re wound too tight, and your body needs this. You can’t reach your zone if you’re worried about your cock and coming. I’m going to take that worry from you. Do you understand?”
“I think so.” He wasn’t sure he did, but he trusted Blaze to show him.
Emma went to work, her clever fingers gently weaving the strap around and between his balls, separating and lifting them. It felt strange but not painful. Definitely erotic, the sight of the thin black leather crisscrossing up the length of his turgid shaft. Being restrained and artfully presented at the same time.
“Finished, sir.”
“Excellent work.” To Bastian, he said, “See that padded bench over there? Go bend over it and stand with your legs spread, a bit wider than your shoulders.”
“Okay.”
His eyes narrowed. “The correct response is ‘Yes, sir.’ ”
“I’m sorry. Yes, sir.”
“Good boy. Now get going.”
He did as he was told, excitement building, sharpened by a sliver of fear. He knew Blaze wouldn’t injure him, but this was new territory. He wasn’t used to giving another man total control over his body, and every instinct he possessed as an agent screamed out against being restrained. His more passionate side, however, the one that sometimes craved a darker brand of loving, arched like a cat being scratched.
At the bench, he bent over, turned his head to the side, and rested it on the padding, and spread his feet as he was told. He was hyperaware of how the position exposed him to whatever Blaze wished to do. He wondered how the binding, this scene, was supposed to help him relax and find his zone, as the man called it.
Blaze came up behind him, smoothed a palm over his shoulders and back. “These knots in your muscles are like boulders. You’ve been under a terrible amount of stress since Michael was shot, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” he whispered. “I feel . . .”
“Tired, wrung out, unappreciated?”
Fuck, that about summed it up. He could only nod.
“We’re going to help you with that,” his friend returned softly. “Trust us.”
“I do.”
“Then let’s begin. I’m going to bind your wrists to these rings at each end of the bench. Emma is going to kneel behind you and do some prep work for our session.”
Prep work? Sounded ominous. Excitement battled with nerves as the Dom tied his wrists to the rings, leaving him thoroughly trussed. As Blaze stood off to the side, a hand skimmed over his hip and buttocks. Emma, getting ready to prepare him. Jesus.
His ass cheeks were parted, and he flinched as cold gel dribbled over his hole. As she smeared the stuff and then inserted a finger into his channel, lubricating him, he tried to concentrate on relaxing. On the glide of the digit working his hole, stretching him.
“Lord, he’s tense,” Emma commented, adding another finger.
“Finish stretching him, baby, and then choose one of these to fill him. We want him to really feel what’s going to happen next.”
Fill him with what? A plug or a dildo? If anything, he tensed even more in spite of his arousal. He didn’t know how to surrender and simply enjoy himself, and frustration made his chest ache.
Finished with the lube, Emma withdrew her fingers. After a moment, they were replaced with the blunt end of something slick and cool. Metallic? She began to guide the instrument slowly into his hole, past the ring of muscle clamping down on the invader in self-defense.
“Easy,” Blaze said, touching his back. “If you don’t relax a little, she could hurt you with the plug. It’s probably a bit bigger than you’re used t
o.”
Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on letting his muscles go limp. He pictured himself opening for her, a vessel for her to fill at her whim. It helped some and the plug inched inside, spearing his flesh, until it finally slid all the way in and the base fit snugly at his entrance.
“How does it feel? Are you uncomfortable?” Blaze asked.
“Yes, sir, a little. But in a good way,” he added. “I’m so full.”
The other man gave a husky laugh. “You’ll be more than that very soon.” Retrieving something from the table, the Dom went to stand behind Bastian, switching places with Emma, who now watched. The man rubbed something flat over Bastian’s ass cheeks. “Do you know what this is?”
“A paddle?”
“Exactly. A wooden one, in fact. Do you know what I’m going to do with it?”
“Um . . . spank me?” No fucking way. He pulled at his bonds, suddenly wanting to be loose.
“That’s right. I’m going to turn that sexy ass of yours red, paddle you until you scream. Until you break free of the pain and sadness, just let it all go. I’m going to make you fly.”
“What? No! Let me up!” Anger, black and unreasonable, bubbled in his veins. It didn’t make sense and he didn’t know where it came from. He knew only that he wanted away from here. He didn’t have to do this, expose his soul.
“Can’t do that unless you say your safe word. That’s how it works.” He gave Bastian’s ass a light smack, experimenting. Or getting Bastian used to the feel of the plug stimulating his hole.
“Let me up!” he shouted.
“Nope, sorry. Use your safe word.” He waited, as though knowing Bastian wouldn’t use it, but giving him time anyway. And dammit, the bastard was right. “We both know you need this. I’m going to help you. Trust me.”
Another smack, this one with a bit more sting. He writhed, cursing, yanking at his bonds.
“Go ahead,” Blaze encouraged. “Let it all out. Get rid of the anger.”
Another whack and another, stronger, with a real bite of pain that was probably reddening his ass, as promised.
“I don’t want this!”
“Yes, you do. You need it, and I’m here.”
More hits, coming regularly now, shooting electric currents of pain and pleasure to his poor, bound cock and balls. He started to pant.
“I’m so fucking pissed!”
“Yes.”
“He hurts me every goddamned day!”
“I know.”
“He doesn’t love me!” His agonized shout reverberated off the walls.
“He does. Give him time,” Blaze said firmly. His hand remained steady, delivering the blows, heating the tortured flesh.
“Nooo . . .” Tears streamed down his face, but he was hardly aware of them. His body seemed to rise and float.
Can’t do this. Can’t . . .
And then something broke inside him. Cracked wide open like a ripe melon, and all the tension, rage, and pain flowed from him like blood from a wound. Drained through his feet into the floor. He let the tidal wave of ecstasy wash over him and became nothing but willing flesh. A slave to the delicious torment of the blows that drove the plug to graze his prostate, making his cock and balls swell to near bursting in their confines.
So good.
“Oh, oh yes,” he moaned. “God, yes.”
After a few more swats, the blows stopped. “I believe he’s there.”
“He is, sir.”
Deft hands released his wrists and helped him to straighten, guided him to a lower, wider padded bench and urged him to lie on his back. Scooted him to the end so that his rear was accessible. He needed, so badly. Where were they?
His thighs were parted, and through a red haze he saw the Dom kneel between his splayed knees. The man grasped the end of the plug and slowly fucked Bastian with the toy, prolonging the torture until he whimpered, unable to form words.
“So pretty. In just a minute, that’s going to be my cock splitting you open, making you writhe and beg.” With that, the Dom carefully withdrew the plug, set it aside. Then he rustled a small packet, rolled on a condom. He cupped Bastian’s ass in his hands and raised him, pressing the large, blunt head to the opening. “While I fuck you slow and easy, driving you insane with the need to come, you’re going to eat my sub’s sweet pussy until she comes on your face. Got that?”
Beyond speech, he nodded.
The head, much bigger than the plug, breached his hole. He groaned helplessly as the huge dick pressed inside, owning him. Long, toned legs straddled his head and Emma’s pink pussy lowered to his mouth.
Obediently, he lapped the sweet petals of her sex, eager to bring her pleasure. He hoped she enjoyed what he was doing, because much of his attention was captured by the burn of Blaze’s big cock taking possession of him. The long, slow slide made him shiver, his desire almost too much for his body to contain. Once the man’s cock was seated deeply, fully to the hilt, it held there, letting him drink in the sensation of being owned. Under another’s control.
Bastian moaned, continuing to lick and suckle Emma’s pussy as Blaze began to fuck him in easy strokes. Just enough to keep him on edge, straining toward an orgasm he couldn’t achieve until the Dom released his bound shaft and balls. Decadent torture.
Above him, Emma started to wriggle and murmur little words of encouragement, her release obviously near. He tongued her clit, lashing it with fervor, and she shuddered, crying out. He ate her honey, catching every drop, until she was spent and climbed off. Distantly, Bastian heard her voice as Blaze began to fuck him with more force.
“God, that’s hot. Fuck him hard, sir!”
“Goddamn, he’s tight. So fucking perfect, so beautiful. How could anyone not want to snatch him up, keep him forever?”
Emma’s reply was lost as the man rammed into him without mercy. Fucked him hard, fast, and deep, heavy balls slapping against his ass.
“Please,” he begged. “I need to come! ”
“I need to come, sir.”
“Please let me come, sir!”
“Soon,” the man growled, never ceasing his pace. A few more powerful thrusts and the Dom stiffened, plunging deep, cock jerking.
Heat filled Bastian’s ass as his own cock stabbed the air, seeking release. At last, Blaze eased out of him and began to undo the leather strap, freeing him. Tossing it aside and gripping Bastian’s cock, he said, “Come for me.”
With a cry, he spasmed. Pumped ropes of pearly cream onto his own abdomen as Blaze fisted his shaft. Milked him of every drop. When the last of the shudders faded, his eyes drifted closed. He was so heavy, melted. Couldn’t move if he wanted to.
“Poor baby is exhausted,” Emma said, kissing his cheek.
“He’s dealt with too much these past few weeks. I think he needed this, and that it helped him at least a little.”
Bastian tried to agree that it had, but his lips refused to work.
“Can we keep him?”
“I wish, angel,” Blaze said. “But his heart belongs to someone else.”
“I know.” She sighed.
He couldn’t stay awake, but the real regret in their voices brought him a measure of peace and warmth as he fell into his dreams.
The limo wove through the streets toward Katrina’s condo at a sedate crawl. Michael’s mind churned, thoughts tumbling one after the other.
You know I love you.
When you stop running, I’ll be here. Just like I always have been.
And then he’d gone home with Blaze and Emma. To get his ass reamed again, as his friend put it. Sure, the very night of the shooting, Michael had figured out that Bastian had been with the experienced Dom. But tonight was different. Tonight he’d gone with the couple to escape from Michael.
And that knowledge caused a strange, terrible ache in his chest.
“How long have you loved him?”
Michael started and peered at Katrina, who was seated next to him. There was no sense in pretending he didn
’t know who she was talking about. “I don’t love him, except as my best friend.”
“Right. That’s why you look like you’ve just lost that best friend for good,” she said softly.
“He’s a grown man and can do as he likes, and so can I. We don’t hold each other back. We’re solid.”
“Michael—”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” he snapped. Instantly, he regretted being short with her, and relented. “Look, I know you’re concerned and only trying to help. So I will say that I know how Bastian feels, and he knows I can’t return his affections in the way he’d like.”
God, that sounded cold.
“Can’t you? Your reaction when he left with Blaze and Emma communicated something very different. Frankly, you looked like he’d just punched you.”
He’d felt like it, too. But he didn’t acknowledge it aloud.
“Well, he wasn’t very nice about it. He was deliberately trying to get a rise out of me.” That was the truth, though he knew he was avoiding the issue. Bastian had been cruel because he was lashing out in pain. I deserved it.
“He knew we were together, and he was hurt. You can’t imagine how guilty I feel for adding to his misery. I like Bastian . . . a lot.”
Something wistful in her tone caused him to study her face more closely. “You say that like you mean it more than as casual acquaintances.”
She was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I do. You should know I’m extremely attracted to him as well as to you. Actually, we almost had sex recently, but we got interrupted,” she confessed. “And I’m not certain what, if anything, to do about it.”
Christ. He wasn’t sure what part of that to tackle first. She’d almost had sex with Bastian? And she was attracted to both of them? Curiosity about her last thought got the better of him. “What would you do about it, if you could?”
Instead of answering directly, she countered with a question. “Have you ever been in a ménage relationship?”
His lips turned up. “I’ve had three-ways, but never anything resembling a relationship. And definitely not with another man involved.”
“Even Bastian, your best friend?”
