Velvet Need

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Velvet Need Page 7

by Sean Michael

The stretch eased as Lutrell's fingers kept moving in and out of him. Finally, they pushed in deeper than ever before, finding the gland inside him.

  "You wouldn't fit.” A hand. Inside him. Insane. No matter how impossibly good Lutrell's fingers felt, it would never fit.

  Lutrell giggled. A loon. Dent didn't know why he had come back. “It will fit. You'll see. One day.” Lutrell kissed him softly. “But not today.” Those fingers pushed and stretched inside him. “Today is for this pretty little tube, and for getting you lovely and clean. And I have a pretty little ring for your cock that gives the smallest, gentlest of shocks. It will make you soar."

  "Pretty.” He shook his head, heart pounding, shoulders lifting to beg another kiss. “You're mad."

  "No madder than anyone else. And I know what I want. What you want.” Lutrell smiled at him, eyes dancing, and then he was given that kiss, Lutrell's lips pressing firmly against his, tongue invading, pressing into his mouth.

  Dent moaned, the kiss easing him, arousing him, driving him mad.

  Lutrell fucked his lips for several moments, fingers sliding in and out of his body with the same eager rhythm. Then tongue and fingers both disappeared, Lutrell humming, mumbling softly to himself.

  He shivered, pulling against the bonds, fighting the need inside him.

  Lutrell insisted on showing him the tubing again, the flared head at the end a gleaming black. “It's going to be so good."

  A soft giggle sounded, and then the tubing disappeared out of his range of sight. He could certainly feel it, though, cool where Lutrell's fingers had been hot, pushing insistently at his ass hole.

  "Don't ... I'm not ready...” He wasn't. Not yet.

  "Oh, my dear, if I wait for you to think you're ready, you never will be.” Lutrell laughed again and the cool plastic pushed into him, warming quickly as it breached his body.

  "I'm not stupid. I know myself...” He shuddered, every nerve awake and ready.

  "Intelligence has nothing to do with it. In fact, I'd say you're quite smart indeed—after all, you've spent years convincing yourself that you're this big, bad top.” Lutrell giggled again and manipulated the tubing, the flare on the end stretching him for long moments before pushing all the way in, his hole closing tightly around the thinner base.

  "Asshole. Don't laugh at me!” he growled, fury finding him again in a rush.

  "The only one who thinks I'm laughing at you is you.” Lutrell stroked his hole where it was closed around the tubing. “So pretty. Are you ready for me to fill you? Good. Good."

  "No.” He shook his head, pulled away. “I'm not ready."

  "I say you are. The water is nice and warm. Once this isn't enough, we'll start playing. Cold water. Water with additives to make you tingle inside.” Lutrell laughed softly as the first rush of warm water pushed into him. “Oh, there is so much for us to do together. So very much."

  "I don't like cold.” He breathed heavily, muscles tight and shaking.

  "All the more reason for you to experience it.” One of Lutrell's hands came to rest on his belly, fingers stroking softly and then with more force as the water kept flowing into him.

  "No.” His toes curled, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he fought his moan.

  "You keep saying that.” Lutrell grinned down at him, eyes twinkling. “Do you want me to suck you while you're being filled?"

  "Bastard.” He hated these games. That smile.

  Lutrell giggled. “You didn't say no.” With that, the man bent and took Dent's cock into that hot mouth, tongue swirling around his head, pressing momentarily into his slit.

  He couldn't stop the groan this time, the shudder.

  Lutrell hummed around his prick, making his whole body vibrate. The water kept pushing into him, filling him as surely as that mouth moved on him. The suction was strong, sliding along his length, distracting him from the way his body was being invaded. He wanted to fight it, to growl out his anger, his vulnerability.

  Lutrell's head bobbed, the hums and laughs continuing, keeping his cock vibrating. One of Lutrell's hands kept working his stomach gently, chasing away cramps, while the other slid over his balls, his inner thighs, the place where the tubing went into him.

  "Don't. Don't touch me there.” So vulnerable. So full.

  Lutrell's mouth came up off his cock. The man's fingers did not stop touching him. “This? But you like it. You need it. To know that I will still touch you. Shall I lick you there?"

  "No. No.” He shook his head. Not with the tube in.

  Lutrell giggled. “There's that word again.” Lutrell's head disappeared between his legs, hot tongue sliding over his skin where it was stretched around the tube.

  He jerked, body shaking. “Don't. Lutrell. Please. Don't.” He didn't want to think about controlling his body; not now, not here.

  Lutrell hummed and kept licking, tongue pointed, tracing around and around the tubing.

  "Stop. Stop. I don't—don't.” He started struggling, body starting to respond.

  "I'll stop when you've come,” Lutrell murmured, tongue tracing around the stretched skin again and again. One hand slid around his cock, thumb playing across the tip, slipping and sliding in the pre-come dripping there, pushing against his slit.

  He shook his head, refusing to participate, to do this. No.

  Lutrell persisted, tongue hot and slick on his skin, working his cock, coaxing out his pleasure.

  "Please...” He sobbed, legs trying to pull up to ease the cramps, the pressure.

  "Yes, please, show me your pleasure, Dent. Come for me."

  Lutrell's fingers tugged hard on his cock, squeezing the head and then working the entirety of it with quick, sharp movements. All the while that tongue played at the place where the tubing pushed into his body.

  He shuddered, jerking violently as his seed spilled from him, his cries echoing out.

  Lutrell purred, the sound soft, gentle, as was the tongue that finally left his hole in order to lick the come from his skin.

  "Beautiful,” Lutrell told him, eyes on his.

  Dent just whimpered, trying to breathe.

  "I'm going to take the tubing out now, my dear. Hold tight until I tell you you can let it go."

  He was kissed. A soft drop of lips on his own, on his breastbone, the tip of his cock, his balls, and then the tubing was sliding away, the flared head stretching him wide as it pulled away.

  "I can't. I can't.” He jerked, heart fluttering, panicked.

  "Yes, you can."

  The tubing and its weird head was suddenly gone, his muscles seeming to snap closed.

  "You see?"

  "Please. Please. So full."

  "I won't make you wait long, my dear. Not long at all.” He could hear the table being changed, a soft waft of air suddenly hitting his skin as it was opened beneath his ass. “There. Now we'll stay clean, yes?” Lutrell laughed softly. “Such strength. You may let go now, my dear."

  Lutrell's hand wrapped around his prick, sliding slowly up and down it.

  "I don't. Don't make me."

  "Don't make you what? Let go? You need to, my dear. You need to let go of the water. Of your pleasure, your pain. Your control."

  "No...” He sobbed softly, body aching, desperate.

  Lutrell's hand continued to work his cock, almost idly, as the man laughed. “I can wait. Eventually you will have to let it all go."

  "I don't want to!"

  "Oh, Dent...” Lutrell's lips slid softly against his, so gentle, tongue flicking out to wet his skin. “This isn't about what you want. It's about what you need."

  "I need up. I need out.” He groaned, eyes wet, heart pounding.

  "You fight everything so hard. Have you always fought yourself so, Dent? Choosing a job you don't like, playing with little ones who can't satisfy you?” And still that hand worked him, thumb flicking across the head of his cock on every upstroke.

  "Yes. Yes. Stop. I can't do this.” He couldn't. He was scared.

  "But you are doi
ng it. Fighting it with everything you have, but doing it.” Lutrell laughed again, the sound echoing in the room. The hand around his prick squeezed tight and the fingers of Lutrell's other hand slid between his legs again, pressing one after the other against his tightly clenched hole. “I am as stubborn as you, Dent. I am even more stubborn than you."

  "I will. Not. Embarrass. Myself.” Not.

  Lutrell bent to whisper in his ear. “I do not believe that your letting go is shameful, Dent. I believe it is beautiful. So beautiful it makes me ache."

  "Please.” He whimpered and hid his face in Lutrell's neck as his body betrayed him.

  Lutrell groaned as the sound of the enema leaving Dent echoed in the room. “Yes, so beautiful.” Lutrell's fingers framed Dent's face, turned his head so Lutrell could see him. The man laughed, pure joy in the sound, in the eyes that looked into his own, into him. “I ache deep inside just from looking at you."

  "I don't. Please. I'm...” Scared. He was scared.

  "I need to come, Dent. I need to come on you, in you. Are you ready? I want to fill you with my seed.” Lutrell's need made his voice harsh.

  Dent met Lutrell's eyes, moaning as he nodded. Yes. Yes, he was ready.

  "Yes, I thought so. I thought you might need as much as I do.” Lutrell stripped quickly, eagerness apparent in every motion. Eagerness for him. Lutrell wanted him. And he wanted Lutrell, wanted to be touched. Filled. Felt.

  Lutrell did something with the table, sealing the opening once more, then climbed up between his spread legs. Warm skin slid along his inner thighs as Lutrell slowly slicked up his own cock before placing it at Dent's hole. So hot, so hard, the blunt head pushed at him.

  "I ... I...” He groaned, throat working.

  Lutrell's eyes held his, saw him, saw into him. “So tight,” murmured Lutrell, another joyous peal of laughter sounding. “So wonderfully tight."

  The head of Lutrell's cock pierced him, pushed past his entrance.

  "I've never..."

  "You were waiting for me. It isn't very enlightened, but I like the fact that no one else has done this to you.” Lutrell's mouth covered his, the kiss sudden and passionate. The cock inside him stayed where it was, just the head breaching him, stretching him so wide.

  Dent pushed himself into the kiss, moaning, hips trying to rock, to move. To get more.

  Lutrell's tongue fucked his mouth, deep and hard, that cock just inside his body staying maddeningly still. Insane. Lutrell was driving him insane.

  Lutrell's lips left his and those eyes stared down at him, into him. “Do you feel it yet? Feel that ache that burns right through you? Do you need me more than you need to deny yourself?"

  He groaned, eyes closing, trying to hide at least that much of himself. “More."

  "Yes, my dear. You need more. And so do I.” Lutrell's voice broke on the last word and that thick cock surged into him, spreading him impossibly wide.

  "Oh...” He tugged against the bonds, body screaming, begging for more sensation. “Lutrell!"

  "Say my name again,” Lutrell demanded, cock sliding slowly almost all the way out and then thrusting back into him again. “Say it again."

  "Lutrell. Again. I need.” Please. He needed.

  A long moan came from Lutrell and the man plunged into him again and then again, thrusts beginning to jar his whole body.

  Dent stopped thinking, stopped worrying and simply felt, hips meeting each thrust, words pouring from him.

  Sweet laughter came from Lutrell, his eyes alight. There was no mocking in the sound. Dent knew he was not being laughed at, not for this.

  "So good, Dent. Come with me, come with me."

  "With you. Yes. Please.” He jerked, toes curling.

  One of Lutrell's hands slid back around his cock, tugging as Lutrell's thrusts became jerky, out of control. “Now! Do it now, Dent!"

  "Lutrell...” He arched, room going grey and swimmy as he shot. The only thing that was solid and real was the cock inside him, the heat that pushed so deeply into him when Lutrell came with a loud cry. He held on to the sensation, the feeling, heart pounding furiously.

  Soft kisses slowly brought the world back into focus, Lutrell's lips sliding on his face, his neck, gentle and tender. Caring for him.

  "I don't want to leave.” Not yet.

  "Good, good. I want you to stay. We have only just begun.” Lutrell laughed softly, the sound going through him, filling him even as Lutrell's cock slid out of him.

  His eyes closed, breath slowing, fight completely gone. For the moment.

  * * * *

  Lutrell carefully cleaned Dent. One day, perhaps soon, he would use a plug to keep his seed inside Dent's body. So many new things already, though. This was likely not the day to begin that ritual.

  Instead, he removed his gloves, undid the restraints, and began to massage Dent's muscles, working out the kinks. He took his time, letting Dent feel each touch, taking care to make sure each beautiful muscle was eased, relaxed.

  "How do you feel?” he asked.

  "I don't know."

  That didn't surprise him. Dent knew so little about himself. He tried to hold back his chuckle, really he did, and he managed to make it just a single giggle before he closed his lips over Dent's right nipple to quiet the sound. He flicked his tongue across the small nub of flesh and then blew on it. “Do you hurt anywhere?"

  That earned him a soft purr. Lovely. “No. No, I don't hurt. I feel shaky."

  Shaky was good. It meant Dent's long suppressed needs were beginning to push their way through his barriers, the tricks Dent played on his own mind.

  Lutrell bent back to the same nipple, gently playing with it, using his tongue to tease as his hand dropped to Dent's cock. He didn't need it hard hard, just interested. Then, he would slip on the electro ring. It was a new one, self-contained, and didn't require wires or a second ring to deliver low-level pulses. He would only leave it in place and give Dent time to recover, to anticipate what it might do.

  Dent sighed softly, relaxing, one hand on Lutrell's head, petting him gently.

  Lutrell nuzzled into the touch, encouraged by Dent's willingness to be close, to initiate contact. It felt good to know that, beneath all his refusals and denials, Dent felt something for him.

  He slipped the simple ring down to the base of Dent's cock and pumped a couple more times, making sure Dent was hard enough that the ring would stay on.

  "Come now,” he murmured, hands sliding beneath Dent's shoulders, encouraging the man to stand. “Come and share a meal with me. We'll dress and go to the dining room, see what wonders are on display tonight."

  Dent looked at him, shook his head. “Not tonight. I've been going so long, Lutrell, and the club was busy when I came in. Can we not rest, one night?"

  He tilted his head to the side. It was a sincere and honest request, not an attempt to take control. Dent was simply tired. “Will you feed me if we stay in? Let me feed you? Without complaint?"

  "Yes."

  Oh, those honest reactions could become addictive. “Then we can rest tonight. But we are only postponing our dinner out.” He pulled on his pants and slipped the little controller for the ring Dent wore into one of the pockets. Then, with Dent still quite naked, he led them back to the front room.

  "You may tell me why you chose a job you hate while we wait for our food."

  "I didn't choose it.” Dent settled on the couch, curling up in a soft blanket. “And thank you, by the way."

  Lutrell folded himself down next to Dent, sitting close enough that he could easily touch Dent. “Thank you?” Honest emotion followed by gratitude. He was affecting Dent.

  "For understanding about the meal.” The edge crept into Dent's voice.

  He stroked Dent's arm, hating that the melted relaxation was so quickly chased away by Dent's pre-conceived notions of who and what he was. “I'm not a monster, my dear."

  "No, you're a madman.” He almost got a grin.

  He laughed. “Well, at least I'm a
happy madman.” One day he would have laughter from Dent. Honest, true, joyful laughter.

  "Now, you changed the subject. You were telling me about this job you didn't choose. Was it thrust upon you? And if you dislike it so, why are you still there?” He kept touching Dent, little strokes over the man's skin, not trying to arouse, just refusing to let Dent hide from him.

  "I am good at it. Successful.” Dent's eyes closed, leaning toward his touch.

  "Does it count as successful if you don't like doing it?” Lutrell loved his job so very much—he couldn't imagine doing something every single day that didn't bring him joy. He traced Dent's features, taking the closed eyes as an opportunity to really study the man without being noticed.

  So strong, so tense—Dent was really quite handsome, especially relaxed and at ease.

  "Yes. If the coffers are full, you're a success."

  "Oh, I hold a different standard,” he murmured, leaning forward to lick at Dent's lips, just a gentle swipe of his tongue over the soft, warm skin.

  Dent sighed again, eyes still closed. “Everyone has a different one."

  "Perhaps you should change yours.” He pushed the blanket from Dent's shoulders, tracing the broad muscles. Dent truly was a good looking man.

  "A leopard cannot change his spots.” Those muscles shifted, tensed and relaxed.

  He laughed, fingers moving to the front of Dent's body, dipping into the hollows along Dent's collarbones. “Good thing you aren't a leopard then, isn't it?"

  Dent actually chuckled, shifted away from the touch a bit.

  He moved in closer, refusing to let Dent back away from him. “What work would you prefer doing?"

  "What does it matter? Should I wish to be a painter or a pilot or a poet? I make money."

  "You don't believe your own happiness matters?” That would explain a lot.

  "I am successful, wealthy. Why shouldn't I be happy?"

  "All I know is that you aren't happy, Dent. Not in your job or your life."

  "It doesn't matter, Lutrell. Not at all."

  Lutrell sighed, leaned in to kiss Dent, his tongue slowly pushing into Dent's mouth. It might not matter to Dent, but it mattered to him.

  Dent opened to him, so responsive to kisses, so eager for them. Lutrell wasn't sure if it was the intimacy, the familiarity, or something else, but he enjoyed them as well, enjoyed the things he could learn from Dent by the simple joining of their mouths. And he enjoyed the taste and the warmth of Dent's mouth, the heat of the man's tongue as it danced with his own.

 

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