by Misha Horne
The sheets smelled like Juno, or him, or both— sweaty and sporty and sexy enough to put a lump in his throat as he inhaled it.
“What’s it feel like to get paddled, rook?”
“Good. Nice.” Sometimes he loved to talk this way, have a long conversation while Juno relaxed him. Sometimes it was impossible. Tonight was both.
“You’re not keeping any more secrets, are you?”
“Mmm. Maybe.”
“I’ll find out, you know. Everything you think about. Everything you ever wanted. Even if you don’t tell me. I’ll know.”
He heard the jar open, the familiar sound and scent pulling him back to the surface, but wasn’t even sure when Juno had grabbed it. And then it was all over him.
Oil cascading down his back and spilling off the rounded sides of his ass, for some reason making him suddenly, acutely aware of just how round it actually was. It ran over his thighs and slid between his cheeks, ticklish and delicious as it teased over his hole and dripped down the back of his balls. Christ, it was everywhere.
“Oh, god. Fuck, god, I love when you use that. I love that.”
“I know.”
With a soft circular motion that had him writhing with relief and squirming in anticipation, Juno started to work it into his skin.
Kyle rocked against his lap, rubbing his cock against his pant leg, the friction painful but so good. He lost himself in the pleasure until he realized how quiet the room was. Realized he could feel Juno’s eyes on him. Could feel him smiling.
“Are you about done?”
He dropped his face into his hands, moaning with embarrassment.
“It’s okay. That feels good, huh?”
“So much.”
Juno dragged his thumb slowly down his crack, stopping over his hole and massaging the overly sensitive spot, tender strokes soothing him like slick kisses against his entrance. He pushed back against the touch, trying to force it inside him, and Juno slapped his bottom softly with his other hand, the smack loud and slippery sounding.
“Hold still.”
Kyle groaned. And pushed back again. He damn near couldn’t help himself, and he was more than willing to be punished for not listening.
He felt Juno’s abs ripple as he fought back a laugh.
“You’re so bad at listening, rook,” he said softly. “So. Bad.”
The words worked tingles through him, hot and naughty and embarrassed, and then back to hot again.
“I don’t care.”
Juno brought his hand down with a heavy slap, rubbing softly afterwards, before the sting had even fully come to the surface. As soon as he relaxed into the gentle caress, it was replaced with another smack, the push and pull owning him, making him crazy.
“Juno,” he whined, begging for anything, everything.
“I told you to hold still. Am I going to have to spank you every time you don’t listen?”
Juno’s soft, slow voice lulled him into a kind of daze that made his brain slow down despite how fast his blood was rushing and how hard his heart was pounding. Kyle rolled his hips, sparks igniting deep in his gut as he got lost in the game. Fuck, it was so embarrassing how much he liked being talked to that way. Lectured and scolded and teased.
“Yes,” he hissed. “God, fuck, yes. All the time. Every time.”
“You’d better start listening, rook. Or you’ll be spending a lot of time down across my lap just like this. Or bent you over the kitchen counter, or on your hands and knees with your ass in the air, while I smack this perfect round bottom until it glows. Every time. Until you’re squirming and whining and blushing and begging me to stop and not to stop, until you’re a soaking wet mess, and you don’t know what you’re saying. Until I can slip my hand around your cock and make you come just by telling you you’re a naughty boy. Can you come like that, Kyle? Could you come right now if I did that?”
“No.” He shook his head, lying, barely aware of what he was saying, only that it was bullshit. He could definitely come from that. In fact, he was already so close to coming it was a miracle the head shake hadn’t pushed him over the edge.
Juno slipped his hand between them, finding his cock, stroking the length with one finger, soft and slow. He bent low, his lips brushing against Kyle’s back as he whispered over his skin.
“Liar.”
“Fuck.”
“Spread your legs, rook.”
He focused on breathing and nothing else until he finally managed to open his legs without losing control, spreading them until Juno stilled him with a hand on his back.
“That’s good. That’s so good. How do you feel?”
“Yes.”
In the back of his mind, he knew that wasn’t an answer, but he could barely remember the question. It didn’t matter. A second later, all his thoughts were gone anyway, the only thing left the slow, humiliating spread of his cheeks, and then the firm press of Juno’s fingertip against his hole, so close, so fucking close to being where he wanted, but not quite.
“Do you hurt?” Juno asked him quietly. God, why did he have to be so nice?
“No.”
“Not at all?”
“A little, I guess. But it feels good. I swear.”
He could feel his hole twitching, pulsing as Juno’s fingers spread his ass open wider and he began to stroke him again, teasing the rim of his entrance in a slow wet circle. His insides were screaming, frantic to fill the empty ache, the echoing loneliness in his body like nothing he’d ever felt before.
“Slow, okay?”
Kyle’s legs twitched, his body a humping, writhing mess as he nodded, struggling to hold himself back. He needed to come. Now. Desperately. But not as badly as he needed to feel Juno inside him. Any part of him. Any way. He’d take anything, do anything to feel the stretch and the burn and the bizarre feeling of being turned inside out.
“Please.”
And then he was breaking apart again. He groaned as Juno found his center, pressing and entering in a slow, smooth, stinging stroke, a long, thick finger pushing through his ring of muscles, working him open little by little, slick and wet. Fuck. It was so good. Heat pulsed from Juno’s touch, radiating inside him, filling him with the raw, live feeling of skin again skin, body against body. Hard and soft at the same time, each tiny motion jolting him closer to madness, intoxicating him with greed and need.
He raised up onto his hands and knees, was up before he even knew he was moving, and Juno wrapped his other arm tight around his waist, fingers curling into his ribcage and holding him firmly.
“Whoa. Careful.” His finger slid in deeper, twisting, probing, bending, doing something that made Kyle gasp and moan. Jesus, what was happening to him? He felt like he was blacking out.
“Put your head down.” Juno laughed softly. “Come on, rook. Do what I say. I don’t have a free hand to spank you.”
He closed his eyes and brought his body back down, slumping at the waist to drop his head in his hands, his cock hard and wet and dripping as the tip dragged across Juno’s thigh.
“Good boy.”
He nodded, not really agreeing to anything, just making himself dizzy as blood rushed in his ears and his body spun wildly through pain and pleasure, too much and not enough. He pushed back, against Juno’s hand, the intrusion feeling so good, so welcome, but he needed more, harder, closer. He needed it to ache, to hurt, so he could be sure it was real. He whined, and Juno’s hand stroked his stomach, rough, almost pinching.
“Relax, rook. Let me.”
Kyle let his body settle, gave up as much control as he could bear, waiting for whatever was next.
Slowly, Juno worked him loose, the same way he always had with the rest of his body—taking control with soft, relentless pressure, rubbing him down inside with a warm, slick massage that was more love than sex, more worship than love. Manipulating his body in ways he didn’t know existed, that he wished was pain, but wasn’t. So close, but not quite. If it was pain, he’d know what to do with it.
How to control it and twist it and ride it until he came. He was getting good at that. But he couldn’t control this. He was out of his element again, just a dirty little rookie boy begging to be taken care of.
And loving it.
“Can you come from this?” Juno whispered.
“You’re fucking kidding, right?”
“Is that a yes?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Feels too good.”
He could feel him smile, hear it in his voice. “Okay.”
Juno slid a hand down to his ass to cup and squeeze as he pumped his finger in and out in the slow, steady kind of torture that Juno was best at. The kind that left him begging, hungry, deliciously ashamed to want more.
“Gonna fuck me?”
He knew the answer, knew the way Juno thought, that it was too soon, that he was too fragile, but he asked anyway. Some part of him wanted to be told no. Some part of him was really starting to love that word.
“Not tonight. Tonight you just take what I give you. Until you can’t take any more.”
He wasn’t sure how he was taking it at all. Every slight movement of Juno’s finger inside him or his body beneath him felt like a crack in his foundation, his resolve crumbling as his eyes watered and his cock leaked.
It was the thinking that finally got him. Imagining what he must look like, moaning and squirming across Juno’s knees with a finger in his ass, naughty and filthy and needy.
He screamed so loudly he dropped his mouth into the crook of his elbow to muffle the sound, his body bucking and twitching as he came across Juno’s lap, wet and sticky and messy and out of control, just the way he wanted.
* * *
Kyle hated alarms. Seriously hated them. Hated having to be on time, hated schedules, hated being bossed around, but he really, really hated alarms.
What he didn’t mind though, was waking up in Juno’s bed and knowing it was the only place he was going to be waking up from now on. And the arm that crept around him at night, pinched him in the side when he slammed the snooze button and sent the alarm flying, that wasn’t so bad either.
Juno’s mouth found his ear, scraped his teeth down it as he pulled him back against his warm body, and fuck that felt so good, what idiot would possibly want to get out of bed. His voice was pure gravel in the morning, dark and hard and low, making every word a growl that went straight to his cock. “I know I’m not getting up at four a.m. because of you.”
“Fuck that,” Kyle whispered, his own voice husky and rough as it sank back into his pillow. “Too tired.”
Juno’s huge hand pawed across his chest, fingers circling one nipple and then the other. “You think I want to get up this early? I think I should spank you every morning when that alarm goes off.”
There wasn’t much of a threat in his words, they were still sleep tinged as he murmured through a half yawn, but they woke Kyle up a little more. Parts of him, anyway.
He shoved his ass back into the pocket of Juno’s body, gasping when the tip of his hard cock grazed against his bare ass. His skin still stung a little, it was probably the longest that had ever lasted, and the touch sent another surge of excitement through him.
Juno laughed and pulled him back tighter, closer, nestling his cock against his ass and wrapping both enormous arms around him as he nibbled on his shoulder.
“You sore?”
“Yeah.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“You’re gonna have a rough morning.”
Kyle groaned. “This sucks so bad. I don’t know how to do any groundskeeping. I don’t even know what that means. I’m gonna look like a jerk.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“I can’t go. Tell them I’m sick. Tell them I’m injured. Say you fucked me so hard I can’t walk.”
“I’m sure everyone would love to hear that. Up.
“When the snooze goes off. Take a shower, then wake me up.”
“Anything else, your highness?”
“Breakfast would be nice. Nothing healthy. Donuts. And coffee. Maybe—”
He squealed as Juno pulled back the covers, clutching at the blankets as he wrapped his arms around himself. “Stop! It’s cold.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll warm you up.”
He yanked Kyle across his lap, stroking a hand over both bare cheeks, rubbing sweet, soft circles into his skin.
“You’re not really going to, are you?” His words were embarrassingly soft and breathy, and he cleared his throat. God, he wanted this so much. All the time.
“What do you think?” But Juno didn’t seem as interested in spanking him as he did in just holding him there, playing with his ass, pinching his thighs, kneading his muscles, and dragging his fingers incredibly lightly up and down his crack.
Kyle whined, twitching his hips, spreading his legs almost without meaning to, needing more and knowing damn well he wasn’t going to get it at four in the morning.
“Yes. Please. Now. Do it now.”
He was almost positive he would, and relaxed onto the bed with his head in his hands and waited for the first smack, almost got lost thinking about the tingling rush of pain and the humiliating sound. Instead, Juno flipped him back over, pulling him up onto his lap.
“Glad you’re here, rook.”
Kyle squirmed, surprised and uncomfortable before pushing past it and letting himself be pleased. “Yeah, well, I can’t really blame you.”
“Now get your ass up and in the shower. I’m not dicking around, you’re not gonna make us late.”
“We should take a shower together, then. To save time. You go warm it up, I’ll meet you in there.” He crawled away, making a quick grab for the pillow and finally got the hard smack on his ass he’d been waiting for. He dropped heavily to the bed, with a grunt.
“Better?” Juno asked him softly, rubbing a hand over his shoulders, working the muscles in his neck like magic.
“Yeah.”
“You know, this is the second morning in a row I’ve had to wake up way too early because of you. Not the last, either.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re a handful.”
The words crawled over him, half ice, half fire, as he rubbed himself against the mattress. They worked instantly to make him hard, make him blush, make him so fucking needy he could hardly control himself. Hell, he couldn’t control himself, he was humping the bed like a dog.
Juno’s hand came down again, and he jumped, looking over his shoulder.
“Do I have any marks?”
“How should I know? It’s dark. It’s four in the fucking morning.”
“Turn the light on.”
Juno sighed, reaching across him for the lamp, and Kyle hissed when the soft light hit his eyes.
“Nope, sorry, you’re all clear. Not even pink.”
He twisted around, frowning. “Really? Nothing?”
Juno ran his hands slowly across his skin. “Nope. Nothing.”
“You should do it harder.”
“It’s not me. It’s you. You’re too healthy. You’re not going to bruise from a spanking.”
“I’ll eat more pizza, then.”
“No, you won’t.”
Juno dragged his fingertips down the crease between his cheeks, and Kyle shuddered as his thumb pressed lightly against his hole.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I want you to fuck me again. Right now. Hard. Like twelve times.”
Juno laughed, leaning down, kissing the small of his back. “What happened to my tight little virgin?”
“I’m still tight.”
“I bet you are. Too bad you fucked up our morning, or I could be inside you right now.”
Kyle groaned. “In the shower. You could fuck me in the shower. Really fast.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay, so maybe we could blow off groundskeeping, blow off practice, drop out of school…”
�
�And just stay in bed forever?”
“Right.”
“Tempting.”
“How tempting?”
“Way too tempting. Up.”
* * *
Groundskeeping, as it turned out, was total fucking bullshit. Not that he’d thought it would be anything else, but loading sandbags into wheelbarrows and moving them from one equipment shed to the other, getting yelled at the whole time for being too damn slow, made him think the whole thing was nothing but a fucking scam. Which Hogie thought was hysterical.
“Of course it’s a scam. It’s another one of Mackey’s hazing things. Didn’t anybody tell you?”
“No.” Kyle scowled, exhausted and offended, his hands raw from catching sandbags, which apparently Hogie thought was a contact sport. What the fuck.
“So you thought we were actually gonna, what? Rake leaves or something?”
“I guess.”
Hogie laughed again, hard, tossing him another bag and then rubbing his temples, a repetition that he claimed was necessary to keep him from puking, but that slowed them way down. Not that Mackey was there to notice, but he imagined the two guys who apparently ran the place were sure to pass it along.
“I forgot you were a freshman. Yeah, groundskeeping’s code for torture. Tomorrow we’ll probably be lugging cement. Trust me, a week of this, plus practice? You’re gonna be thrilled you’re sitting on the bench. And damn lucky if I don’t kick your ass. You’re gonna want to start bringing me coffee.”
And if groundskeeping was bad, practice was worse. In fact, it was pretty easily the worst practice he’d ever had, including the time when he was fifteen and ended up in the ER after taking a cleat to the back of the neck. Mackey seemed intent on making his life hell for the foreseeable future, working him into the ground and then some, and making sure everyone saw him doing it.
