by Lynda Aicher
It popped into place on a muffled grunt and flash of pain. Shit. He bent over, forearms braced on the counter, inhaling through his nose. His sexual frustration was already at a breaking point. Hand jobs barely took the edge off when Finn was near. Now he was expected to do a full workout with this shoved up his ass, teasing his rim. Reminding him every damn second of what he’d never get from Finn.
“Do you need help in there?” The laughter in Finn’s voice wasn’t lost through the door. The ass was really enjoying this.
“Fuck off, Finn.” The last thing he needed was the visual of Finn putting the plug in him. Taking his time, teasing the sensitive muscles, in and out before forcing him to take it.
He squeezed his eyes closed, willed the longing back until spots danced behind his eyelids. His dick was already semihard, the stimulation reminding him of how long it’d been since he’d fucked anyone—or been fucked.
He washed his hands, then slid the metal cock ring on the front of the harness down his dick and tucked his balls through it, keeping everything as functional as possible. Thankfully, the leather was soft and the ring didn’t pinch. Finn wouldn’t have invested in anything but quality items, a small blessing when everything else about this was cursed.
He secured the straps around his hips, wedged the last one between his ass cheeks, and locked the buckles in place. His small wiggle dance worked the plug lower, and he hitched the back strap a notch tighter. No way was that fucker working its way out before he got back here. He’d rather endure the giant wedgie than to have to stop every hundred yards to shove it back in.
He yanked his clothes in place, his compression tights holding his dick snug to his lower abdomen. There was no hiding the semi he sported, and he didn’t give a shit. At this point, all he cared about was not losing.
He took a deep breath, schooled his features into an indifferent mask. Finn would not know how much this sucked. How his mind kept imagining it was Finn buried in him. Hard, pounding, taking and giving.
Fuck.
He glared at Finn as he stomped past him and out of the cabin. So much for not showing anything. “Asshole,” he mumbled, the plug shifting and moving with every step. Desire rolled from his groin to spread up his chest. There was no ignoring the object in his ass or the straps hugging his hips. No pretending nothing was different.
What. The. Hell.
“Everything okay?” Finn asked, shutting the cabin door as he came onto the porch.
Tanner sucked in a deep breath, the brisk air and salty scent doing nothing to calm him. Finn swatted his ass, and the crack smacked loud and bit through his flesh to jiggle the plug. It took every ounce of control he had to remain still, nostrils flaring as he sucked in another breath.
“You are so going to lose,” he said when he could speak without groaning. “And then you’re going to pay.”
“Yeah?” Finn strolled down the stairs, his steps more fluid than they’d been just a week ago. He glanced back, charm shining on his features in the pale morning fogginess. “But I don’t plan on losing.”
That right there, that fighting spirit, was worth every miserable step he was going to take over the next eight miles.
“A little overconfident there, aren’t you, Gravy?” The nickname flowed off Tanner’s tongue without thought. They didn’t use them much when it was just them, when they didn’t have to wear shields and blend in with everyone else.
But this was war.
He bounded down the stairs, refusing to wince when the plug jarred his prostate. Holy fucking hell. He almost stumbled down the last two steps, but took a leap instead, landing with a forced grin.
Finn glanced down pointedly, brows raising. “That has got to be uncomfortable.”
Why in the hell hadn’t he worn a longer shirt? The long-sleeve thermal wicking top was perfect for this weather but sucky for hiding his erection.
“Your jealousy’s showing,” he tossed back, striding past Finn. One of his biggest advantages had always been the size of his dick, which countered every Asian stereotype about small penises. Thank you, Dad. And his Hungarian ancestry, or maybe it was the German bit. Or the slice of Italian. Or the mighty combination of every drop of mixed heritage floating within him.
He took off running before Finn could respond, his focus on keeping his gait even. There was no way he was letting Finn see his face, not when every stride jostled the plug and nudged his prostate. The pressure of the cock ring became more pronounced the harder he got, the metal ring doing its job and keeping his dick firm.
This was going to be pure torture. Every nerve ending was centered on the desire swirling and spreading from his groin, teasing his need, slowly coaxing his orgasm forward. And as an added bonus, he got to prolong his agony by running at Finn’s pace until he turned back.
“We’re stopping for squats and lunges, too,” Finn called up, that laughter still clear in his voice.
Tanner’s groan tumbled out before he could stop it. Just the thought of how much that was going to suck had him wishing he’d thought this through better. Or had told Finn to fuck off. The ass was enjoying his torment too much.
But he hadn’t. Couldn’t have really, not if this helped his brother.
This was for Finn.
Had all those submissives lined up at the clubs to get this? To endure whatever Finn doled out, all in the name of pleasing him?
Which was exactly what he was doing right now. Did that make him Finn’s sub?
No. Fuck, no.
He was ready to keel over by the time they reached the small clearing where they did their push-ups. He’d exerted so much energy clenching to keep the plug as immobile as possible and trying not to think about his dick that he was more exhausted at two miles than he normally was at the end of eight.
He braced his hands on his knees, breaths raspy with suppressed need. Sweat dripped from his forehead and plastered his shirt to his back. The damn harness dug into his ass crack and rode his taint in an annoying fashion that wouldn’t allow him to forget for one measly second that his dick, balls, and ass were fucking owned by Finn at the moment.
And that thought turned him on even more.
“Hey.” Finn slapped him on the ass, right over the plug. It dug in farther, shoved against his now oversensitized gland to yank a grunt from him. “Something wrong?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and locked his lips tight. No way was he complaining. He forced himself to straighten, flipped Finn off as he did.
Finn’s chuckle both stabbed and warmed him. How the fuck did he do that? Why did Tanner let him? Probably because there was no way of stopping it. He’d tried and failed so many times he’d simply come to accept it.
“Not so cocky now, huh?” Finn’s grin couldn’t have gotten any bigger without cracking his cheeks, Tanner was pretty sure. It was a gorgeous sight, though. Open and full of life. Rising to the challenge instead of quitting when life had handed him a pile of shit.
“You’re wrong,” he said, his lips twisting up. “In fact, I’m very damn ‘cocky’ right now.” He grabbed his aching erection, wincing at how fucking sensitive it was. At least he hadn’t moaned.
“Ha!” Finn barked. “That was bad.”
They did five sets of push-ups, which turned out to be the easiest thing he’d done today. Anything that kept his legs immobile and his ass from flexing was a blessing. Finn grunted through the last set, arms trembling near the end. He finished them, though—every one meeting regulation standard too.
Seeing that made the plug in his ass almost worth it.
“So,” Tanner said, standing, movements slow. “You owe me one more mile.”
“What?” Finn frowned, his brows dropping low over narrowed eyes.
“I have a goddamn plug strapped into my asshole. You”—he nailed Finn in the chest with his fingertip—“owe me one more mile, Marine.”
Finn raised his chin, lips compressed tight but not rejecting Finn’s assertion.
“Either give me the m
ile or I’m yanking this fucker out right here, right now.” He wasn’t kidding. He didn’t give a damn how it looked or if anyone saw.
A slow smile spread, transforming Finn’s features into something close to perfect. Sweat-covered, scruffy, and flushed, Tanner struggled to keep from jumping him, consequences be damned. He was horny as hell, and the man he’d loved for years was smiling at him like he’d struck gold.
“Deal, Marine.” Finn raised his fist and Tanner bumped it with his own. Finn turned toward the trail, then paused and looked back. “There’s one more thing, though.”
He groaned, head dropping back as he prepared himself for what was coming. “What?”
Finn waited until he met his gaze. “You can’t remove the plug until you reach the cabin. And”—his grin was too damn cunning—“you can’t come, either. No jacking off or relieving any of the uh…tension.” He laughed at that, too fucking happy with himself.
Tanner stewed over a response, silently flinging every curse he knew at him. There had to be a way around it. How the fuck would Finn know if he removed it and then put it back in?
“You lie like shit, Toe Pick,” Finn said, effectively reading his mind and cutting off his thought process. “And your integrity won’t let you skim on a bet—or lie about it.”
He was right. Fucker. He looked away, frustration battling his will.
“Or we call it right here.” Finn motioned to the clearing. “You remove the plug and we walk back together.
And Finn wouldn’t be challenged.
“Who’s carrying the dirty plug?” he asked, just to mess with him. Finn’s look of disgust pulled a chuckle from Tanner and settled his decision, which had never been in question. “We’re finishing this.” He nodded up the path. “After you.”
Finn puffed out a grunt, appreciation—or was it pride—shining briefly. He took the lead, his pace determined if slow, and Tanner fell in behind, each step a reminder of how much he was willing to give for Finn, and of how much more he wanted.
“You are the only one I’d ever do this for,” he grumbled, steadfastly ignoring the renewed ache in his ass.
Finn turned abruptly and Tanner stopped short, almost running into him. They were only feet away from each other, and the dim light of the forest couldn’t hide Finn’s solemn expression. Intense and open, nothing hidden, his gratitude, appreciation, and love totally exposed.
“I know,” Finn said.
Tanner stared at him, understanding flying without words. The questions flew too, their depth and meaning lost in the translation. Or purposely misunderstood.
His breath stalled, longing racing up to tease him with what he couldn’t have. His skin turned tight, his nipples peaked, a wave of want spreading from his heart to his groin.
But he couldn’t take the path his heart wanted, so he deflected. “Move, Marine.” He shoved Finn on the shoulder and refocused on the task ahead. He’d get through this—for Finn and for himself—if it took every last ounce of determination he had.
Chapter 10
Finn braced his hands on the edge of the porch and pressed his heel down, the stretch running up the back of his leg. A gust of wind swooped in to beat at his back and brought a fresh dose of the seaweed-and-brine scent. He inhaled deeper and switched legs, the cold air wicking at the sweat clinging to his nape and temple.
The app ticked out a steady pace he’d decreased on his return trip down the path. But it was faster than it’d been last week. He was improving. Every day here woke a part of him he’d shut down when he’d thought he’d never get close to this point again. The mental triage of sorting and relearning the most basic tasks had seemed insurmountable in the beginning. Now, he was almost ready to think about what was next.
Almost, but not quite. Not until Tanner left, at least.
A glance at the cabin door provided no clue as to who’d returned first. The extra mile had stretched his limits and given him something to rise to. He’d refused to fail—but so had Tanner.
He shook his head, smile spreading. Damn the sight Tanner had made. All horned up, frustrated, angry, and refusing to quit. He sucked in a breath, willed his dick down for the hundredth time since Tanner had strode from the bathroom, his gait strong, features hard and determined.
Fuck. He adjusted himself and focused on the consistent tick, tick, tick in his ear. Tanner had willingly put himself through hell for him. Because he’d had a stupid idea in order to placate his ego, and Tanner had gone along. But his plan had worked. Seeing Tanner struggle, watching him push through the torment and keep going, had motivated Finn too. He’d pushed harder today, dug deeper because Tanner had.
He’d done his entire workout with a plug up his ass and a raging erection. Yeah, Finn had laid it down as a challenge, but he wasn’t stupid. Tanner had done it because Finn had asked him to.
The thrill of that alone rushed straight through him to tighten his groin. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried not to envision how Tanner would look naked, dick hard, straining and aching for release. Christ. He shook his head, the vision blurring to his most recent one of Tanner: sweaty, tortured, and so fucking strong, his hard-on straining the tight fabric of his running tights.
He shook out his arms, did a few more stretches in an attempt to rid himself of the thoughts he’d been powerless to ignore for the last hour. Any and all dominant tendencies from before the accident had been wiped out by his sheer sense of weakness. How in the hell was he supposed to exert power over anyone when he didn’t feel in control of himself?
But now, this little game with Tanner had inflamed desires he’d locked away. Some he’d thought gone forever.
He’d discovered the world of kink early in his military career and had explored it fully as a way to embrace his gayness. There he’d found a sanctuary where no one cared about who he fucked or how things played out between two consenting adults. The liberty of that alone had been exhilarating, but he’d never trusted enough to give over his control. So he’d embraced the power and found release in giving other men what they needed while also getting what he wanted—the freedom to be himself without judgment.
A chill crept into his bones, the dampness yanking a shiver from him. He sucked in one more breath and headed into the cabin. Tanner would usually be in the shower or upstairs. He’d honestly had high hopes that first day that he’d beat him back, a belief he laughed at now.
The emptiness hit him first. No lights on. No fire. No shower running or the sense of a presence in the loft. He was alone.
He’d actually beaten Tanner.
He spun around and stared out the doorway to the path. Worry immediately rushed in, followed by a quick chastisement. Tanner was fine. He had his phone.
But what if he wasn’t okay?
His pulse kicked up a notch, doubts threading in to tease at his fears. He couldn’t lose Tanner too. Couldn’t deal with the guilt or a life without the two men who’d shaped it even more than his family or the military had.
He caught movement through the trees, a dark shape descending steadily if slowly. Relief rushed in so quickly he sagged against the doorjamb.
What am I doing?
He jerked up, shutting the door before Tanner emerged from the woods to see him waiting there like a worried mother. Finn hadn’t wanted one and neither would Tanner. He leaned on the kitchen counter and counted with the beats of the app until his heart slowed and his riled mind cleared.
Apparently the plug had worked far better than he’d intended it to. He’d used them on many a sub, but he’d never been the twenty-four/seven kind of Dom to test out prolonged usage of a device like that—especially during physical exercise. Hell, he’d never had anything, with a sub or otherwise, that went beyond what the clubs could provide. He’d had all the commitment and support he’d needed from Chris, Tanner, and his fellow Marines and no need for the added responsibility of a relationship.
Footsteps landed heavy and slow on the porch stairs, startling Finn out of his thoughts. He
straightened, swallowed. His expectations were at zero. He had no idea what mood Tanner would be in or how he was going to react to what he’d endured.
His pulse thundered and he quickly removed his earpiece, the ticking annoying when he couldn’t corral a single thought or feeling.
The door swung open, Tanner entering on deliberate strides. His jaw was clenched tight, desperation clinging to his haggard expression. He scanned the room, gaze wild, half-dazed.
Finn inhaled, want and longing blasting through his chest and driving south to his dick. Every dominant impulse he harbored lit up at the pure venom mixed with desire and agony raging from Tanner’s dark eyes and stiff form.
This was power and sacrifice laid out before him—for him. From Tanner. The guy he’d gladly give his life for.
Whom he loved more than he should.
Tanner whipped the door closed, the bang resonating through the room to vibrate up Finn’s legs. He took a step, fists clenched at his sides, tendons drawn tight down his neck.
“Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done?”
What he’d done? Finn raised his chin, arms crossing to meet the challenge because there was no other way to handle this. He had to meet Tanner head-on and finish the game he’d started. “Tell me.”
“This!” Tanner pointed to his dick. The thick bulge ran up his lower abdomen to crest at the edge of his waistband. A large wet circle stained the fabric around the tip, the thin material detailing the crown in erotic detail. “I’m so goddamn hard I can’t think straight.”
Damn how that excited Finn, fed his imagination and kicked open the door to the fantasies he’d never allowed himself to have. Had he set this up secretly hoping for exactly this? An opportunity he should never want, let alone have orchestrated. Yet here it was, and his willpower was gone.
He couldn’t back down in front of the one guy in the world he truly wanted to impress. And he couldn’t—as much as he knew he should—let this chance go.
