Kinky Sprinkles

by L. A. Witt

  “I know it isn’t.”

  “So how do we work around this?”

  “I have no idea.” Andre cupped Joel’s face. “To be honest, I can’t think any further ahead than everything I want to do to you right now.”

  Joel looked in his eyes. “Such as?”

  Andre held his gaze for a moment. Then, as he leaned in for another kiss, he whispered, “Anything you want.”

  “Right now,” Joel said, “the only thing I want is you.”

  “Then maybe we should get out of here.”

  “Maybe we should.”

  Joel could’ve sworn his place was closer to the dungeon than this, but somehow they wound up driving across seventeen states, four time zones, and probably the International Date Line before his apartment building came into view. That was what it felt like, anyway.

  They parked and headed inside. He didn’t bother offering a drink. He knew damn well what Andre wanted, and they could get some water or whatever afterward. For now—door shut, dead bolt turned, shoes off, bedroom. As soon as they were in the bedroom, they didn’t waste any time. Every scrap of clothing belonged on the floor and didn’t take long at all to get there.

  It helped that Andre had wisely changed back into street clothes before they left, so they didn’t have to struggle with getting him out of those damn leather pants. They were sexy as hell, but kind of a pain in the ass when they got in the way. Not that they were any less of a pain at the dungeon than here, but the sense of urgency was more pronounced here. There was a bed three feet away. Condoms. Lube. Erections. Nobody had time to peel off skintight leather.

  They climbed into bed together, and . . . game on.

  Kissing and touching, breathing each other in and trying to get as close as humanly possible, they barely even came up for air. The only reason Joel cared about passing out was that he didn’t want to miss one second of this, but still, Andre’s kiss tasted even better than oxygen, so whatever.

  Andre rolled onto his back, taking Joel with him, and they kept right on kissing as Andre ran his hands all over Joel’s skin. Joel finally decided that if he absolutely had to breathe, this position let him go for the next best thing—kissing Andre’s neck.

  Groaning softly, Andre tilted his head, exposing his throat to Joel’s lips, and Joel took full advantage, exploring every inch from jaw to collarbone.

  “Oh my God.” Andre arched underneath him and trailed his warm, calloused hands up Joel’s sides. “Fuck . . .”

  Joel nipped where neck met shoulder, and shivered when Andre did.

  “I swear,” Andre breathed, “you’re the last person I thought I’d wind up in bed with tonight, but definitely the one I wanted the most.”

  Joel lifted his head. “I can’t decide if that’s dirty or romantic.”

  “Eh, call it a little of both.” Andre pulled him down for another kiss. “I get you tonight, and that seems both dirty and romantic to me.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  He really couldn’t. Everything about this was as romantic as it was dirty. And it was hot. And amazing. And addictive. Sex without any power games and dominations had been a distant memory before Andre, and it still blew Joel’s mind that he was having it with Andre. It didn’t even matter that this wasn’t their first time together. He couldn’t get over the fact that the man in his bed was absolutely a Dom, unapologetically a sadist, but he was touching Joel like he just wanted to feel him and fuck him, not dominate him or hurt him.

  But what happened when it was over? He really didn’t want to think about it, but at the same time, after the last two encounters had left him reeling and disappointed . . .

  He swallowed. “This . . . this is okay, right?”

  Andre blinked, smoothing Joel’s hair. “Okay? Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I mean, since what we’re doing, it’s . . .”

  “Vanilla?”

  Joel nodded.

  Andre smiled. He took Joel’s hand and guided it between them. Closing Joel’s fingers around his very hard cock, Andre gasped. “Does it feel like I’m objecting to anything?”

  Their eyes met. Joel stroked Andre gently, grinning when Andre squirmed and bit his lip.

  “You know . . .” Joel chewed his lip.

  “Hmm?”

  Joel hesitated but finally managed to look Andre in the eye. “I’m, uh, I’m not opposed to everything that could be called kinky.”

  Andre cocked his head. “I’m listening.”

  Despite his nerves, Joel reached for the bedside table. He opened the drawer, revealing a couple of toys, an unopened box of condoms, a book he’d never finished reading, and . . . there they were—a pair of silver handcuffs and a black satin blindfold.

  He pulled them out and held them up. “I know it’s not much. But . . . you know, if . . .” His stomach knotted with nerves before he whispered, “I do enjoy this kind of thing sometimes.”

  Did he really just offer novelty handcuffs and a silly satin blindfold to a Dom?

  Joel silently begged the world to open up and swallow him.

  But then Andre smiled. “Sounds like fun.” He took the cuffs and blindfold, and the smile faltered a bit. “I mean, are you sure? We don’t have to.”

  “This is fine. I . . .” Joel glanced at the toys dangling from Andre’s finger. “I enjoy it if it’s with someone I trust.” He gulped. “I mean, I don’t want to be submissive. I don’t like pain. But a little light bondage . . . blindfolds . . .” He shrugged. “Sometimes?”

  To his surprise—and relief—Andre grinned. “So are you suggesting that tonight might be one of those sometimes?”

  A full-body shiver curled Joel’s toes. “You better believe it.”

  “Good,” Andre breathed, and drew Joel into a kiss that promised one hell of an evening. As if he had any doubt. He already knew that Andre was a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom, and he couldn’t wait.

  Andre pushed himself up on his arms. “You know, if we’re going to play with cuffs and a blindfold, we should still have a safeword. Just in case.”

  “Okay. ‘Red’ and ‘yellow’ work for me.”

  “Me too.” Andre gestured at the headboard. “Lie back with your hands above your head.”

  Joel obeyed, loosely grasping the slats. His heart sped up, but he took slow, deep breaths to calm himself down.

  Andre tipped up his chin so their eyes met. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Joel adjusted his position a little, and the cuffs rattled against the headboard. “Just, um, haven’t done this in a while.”

  “You know how to work the emergency release, right?”

  Joel nodded. Just to be sure, he thumbed the release. It was exactly where he’d expected it to be, and when he pressed down on it, the cuff immediately opened.

  “Okay, good.” Andre closed the cuff again. “Now lift your head.”

  Joel did, and he let Andre gently pull the blindfold down over his eyes. When he settled back on the pillow, he closed his eyes, eyelashes brushing against satin, and willed his heart to slow down. This was safe. This was fun.

  He thumbed the quick release on the cuffs, making doubly sure he knew where it was. It wasn’t rational—he hadn’t been able to see it when he’d opened it a moment ago—but it didn’t hurt to check.

  “You okay?” Andre’s voice was smooth and calming. More so than usual? Had he added some extra calm just to ease Joel’s nerves? Or was Joel just perceiving it differently?

  “I’m good.”

  “Okay.” Andre dropped a soft kiss on Joel’s lips. “Speak up if you’re not.”

  And with that, he started kissing his way down Joel’s neck. To his collarbone. To his chest. Back to his shoulder. To the crook of his elbow, where he planted a kiss that made Joel’s toes curl. He could lie here until the end of time and never get tired of the way Andre’s lips felt against his skin. With no sight, all he could focus on was the light touch and the warmth of skin, lips, and breath.

&
nbsp; Weirdly, being blinded didn’t bother him. With Rob, he’d hated blindfolds or sex in the dark, because that could mean unpleasant surprises. With Andre, though, he wasn’t worried. He had no idea what Andre had in mind, but he trusted him not to cross any lines.

  I barely know you, and I trust you more than the man I lived with for three years.

  He had no idea if that said more about Rob, Andre, or himself. All he knew was that there was nothing threatening whatsoever about Andre or about this situation. Lying there naked, blind and bound, Joel wasn’t nervous at all. Whenever he couldn’t feel Andre’s lips or his fingers, he squirmed with anticipation, his skin tingling as he wondered where they’d land and what they’d do.

  Andre didn’t disappoint. He dropped featherlight kisses all over Joel’s neck and torso, sometimes lingering, sometimes not. He flicked his tongue here. Blew softly on the skin there. Once in a while, he even pressed his teeth in, just enough to drive Joel’s senses wild without causing actual pain.

  One soft kiss at a time, Andre inched down Joel’s chest toward his abs. If he was at all put off by the extra weight Joel had in front, he didn’t let it show, and his kisses were still sweet, lingering, and tender all the way down past Joel’s navel.

  He didn’t go suck his cock, though, and Joel didn’t care because he was too caught up in how each little kiss overwhelmed his senses. Andre made his way over Joel’s hip bone, and continued downward, tracing more kisses along his inner thigh.

  Joel sucked in a breath. Who the hell had put an erogenous zone behind his knee, and how the hell had he never known it was there?

  Andre switched to the other leg, and holy hell—the back of that knee was crazy sensitive too. Whoa.

  He moved around again. A moment later, the mattress shifted beside Joel, and there was body heat very close to his shoulder and his face.

  “Open your mouth.”

  Joel did, and Andre pushed his cock between Joel’s lips. Without his sight or his hands, he swore Andre felt even thicker than before, straining his jaw and his gag reflex, and that turned him on like mad. For a few strokes, Joel teetered on the brink of panic, certain Andre was going to challenge his gag reflex. He kept his thumb on the quick release, reminding himself over and over that he could stop this anytime he wanted.

  He didn’t pull the release. Andre didn’t push his gag reflex.

  And Joel . . . didn’t want to stop.

  Andre slowly fucked Joel’s mouth, and all Joel could think of was how much he wanted Andre to fuck him. He liked this. A lot. He loved the way Andre’s cock felt sliding back and forth between his lips and over his tongue. Thanks to the blindfold, all his other senses were on high alert, and though he couldn’t see Andre, he could hear his soft little groans and the mumbled, “Oh yeah, that’s good,” that came now and then.

  With only his lips and tongue at his disposal, he teased Andre’s cock as relentlessly as he could. He closed his hands into fists, tugging at the cuffs because he really, really wanted to stroke Andre’s cock. He wanted to see his face, watch the way his lips parted and his eyes closed when he was really turned on. He wanted to watch Andre watching him.

  But he couldn’t. And he didn’t try to change that. Without his sight, Andre’s moans and the sounds of the bed creaking in time with his gentle rocking were amplified. Without his hands, his sense of touch zeroed in on the thick cock sliding between his lips and across his tongue.

  Andre ran his hand up and down Joel’s arm, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “Jesus, you have an amazing mouth.”

  Joel just moaned around the cock, and kept teasing him as best he could without his hands.

  Then Andre slid his cock free, and Joel tried to follow.

  More, damn you. More!

  The mattress shifted again, and there was warmth above him, and then Andre’s chest met his. As he kissed Joel, his entire strong, hot form settled on top of him, and Joel didn’t think he’d ever been more aware of the tickle of body hair brushing skin or cool breath grazing his chin.

  To hell with it. He pulled the emergency release on the cuffs.

  Andre broke the kiss abruptly. “Are you—”

  “I’m fine.” Joel slid his hand into Andre’s hair and pulled him down into a kiss, the remaining cuff jingling beside their faces. Now that his hands were free, he made up for lost time, touching Andre all over. The cuffs still dangled from his left wrist, the chain rattling every time he moved his hand, but Andre didn’t seem to mind.

  They were both out of breath, panting between kisses and grabbing on to each other as they frantically, feverishly made out. All the fantasizing, all the frustration—and now this. Andre, in his bed, wrapped up in his arms and kissing him like every single desire was one hundred percent mutual.

  Andre broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against Joel’s. “Jesus Christ.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I so want . . .” Andre brushed a kiss across Joel’s lips. “I so want to fuck you.”

  “Yes, please,” Joel breathed. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to be fucked as badly as he did right then. Just the thought of Andre’s cock inside him made his whole body tremble.

  “I want . . .” Andre hesitated. Though Joel couldn’t see him, the hint of tension in his body was unmistakable.

  “What?”

  “If you’re okay with it,” Andre said, “I want you to keep the blindfold on.”

  Joel licked his lips. “Yeah. Let’s leave it on.”

  “You sure?”

  Are you kidding? If it’s been this hot to have you tease me with it on . . .

  “Definitely sure.”

  Andre unsnapped the remaining cuff, and they jingled somewhere in the distance. Probably on the other side of the bed, but they could’ve been across town for all Joel cared, because he was finally going to get fucked.

  “How do you want me?” he asked.

  “On your hands and knees.” Andre touched his shoulder. “Do you want the blindfold off while you’re moving?”

  “No. Just don’t let me fall off the bed or anything.”

  “Of course not.”

  With Andre’s guidance, Joel changed position. He was vaguely disoriented now. Was he facing the headboard or the footboard? Some other angle entirely?

  Didn’t matter. His hands were free, so he could have the blindfold off in a matter of seconds if he wanted to.

  To his surprise, he didn’t want to. He’d enjoyed blindfold play before—in the early days when Rob still treated him well—but never like this. There was just something about shutting off one of his senses and enjoying this gentle sensuality at the hands of a sadist.

  His heart pounded as he listened to the familiar sounds of a condom wrapper tearing, the condom being rolled on, and the lube bottle clicking open, then closed.

  Here we go. Yes. Bring it on.

  A hand drifted up his side. “You still doing okay?”

  Joel nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”

  “Safeword still applies. Just speak up if you need to.”

  “I will.” He didn’t see that happening. Everything had been perfect so far.

  He was strangely aware of every shift of the mattress, and his mind’s eye followed every movement Andre made. With his knee, Andre nudged Joel’s legs a little farther apart. Then his leg brushed Joel’s as he settled behind him.

  Andre put something on Joel’s back, just above his hip, and though it took a few seconds to work it out, Joel decided it was the bottle of lube. He must’ve been keeping it within easy reach.

  He rested a hand on Joel’s hip, and the other drifted across Joel’s ass cheek toward his anus. Joel closed his eyes. The anticipation was going to drive him crazy, he just knew it, but he didn’t dare demand that Andre skip all the fingering nonsense and fuck him. That would probably just make Andre tease him even more.

  Andre pressed a lubed fingertip against Joel’s entrance. Joel gritted his teeth—they both knew damn well he could tak
e Andre’s cock without much prep. Still, Andre taunted him, sliding a single finger inside him and slowly fucking him with it.

  You sadistic bastard.

  His own thought nearly made him laugh aloud. Andre would hardly take that as an insult. And this level of teasing and torment? Joel could handle it. He did enjoy being fingered after all. It was only frustrating now because as long as he was being fingered, he wasn’t being fucked.

  Andre added another finger, stretching him carefully. Joel squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to rock back and take Andre’s fingers deeper, but he stayed as still as he could so the bottle of lube wouldn’t roll off him. Which was probably the point. A way to subtly force Joel to stay still even when they both knew he’d want to move.

  After what seemed like hours—amazing, frustrating hours—Andre slid his fingers free. The lube bottle lifted off Joel’s hip. He breathed slowly and evenly as he curled his fingers around the sheets and waited—God, hurry up!—for Andre to fuck him.

  The lube bottle returned to its place on his back. One hand steadied his hips. Joel held his breath, spine tingling with anticipation.

  Finally, Andre pressed the head of his cock against Joel’s ass, and they both moaned as he slid past the tight ring. He withdrew, then pushed in again, and slowly eased himself deeper. Even when Joel’s body yielded to him, he was in no hurry—his strokes were slow, fluid, smooth. He worked himself deeper a little at a time, and took fucking ages to withdraw and slide back in.

  His cock felt utterly amazing, but damn it, Joel wasn’t in the mood for slow and easy. He wanted to be fucked. Except if he moved more than he was, the lube would fall.

  Oh to hell with the lube. Joel leaned back onto Andre’s cock. Then he rocked forward and did it again, driving Andre into him so hard his eyes watered behind the blindfold.

  After just one thrust, the bottle wobbled, and on the second, it rolled and dropped onto the bed. Andre didn’t miss a beat—he kept right on fucking him hard and fast. The bed creaked. The headboard smacked the wall. Joel wondered for a second if his neighbors would be pissed, but then he forgot to care because this gorgeous man’s cock felt so . . . damn . . . good.