by Sean Michael
Moaning, he delved deeper, wanting more of that taste. Dent opened to him, letting him in. His lover craved kisses, always had. He climbed into Dent's lap without breaking their kiss, his hands sliding on the strong shoulders.
Dent drew him close, relaxing and rocking against him. His hands moved over Dent's head, Dent's face, tracing the contours he knew better than his own. Each kiss invited another, one flowing into the next like honey over bread.
Dent trusted him completely, easily, allowing him this without worry.
He slid a hand between them, opening Dent's trousers and then his own linens. Their pricks met, tips touching, kissing as they rocked together. They both hummed as they slid and rubbed. The pleasure between them wasn't fierce, but comfortable, peaceful. It built slowly, their kisses becoming deeper as their need grew. This kind of pleasure was born of trust, of love.
He rocked slightly harder, the rubbing and rubbing making his balls draw slowly up.
"Mmm. Bertoli.” Dent smiled against his lips, tongue sliding against his.
He smiled back, moving faster still, loving the heat between them, the pleasure.
Dent's hand slipped between them, wrapping their cocks together.
He gasped into his lover's mouth. “Yes! Dent, please."
Dent's fingers began to move, stroking them both together, rubbing firmly. Slow and peaceful, relaxed, it all disappeared as the need rode him, making him pant. “My Bertoli.” Dent groaned, lapping his lips.
"Yours, my dear. All.” The last word cut off as his pleasure overwhelmed him, heat pouring out of his cock.
Dent nodded, his own heat joining Luttrell's. He rested their foreheads together, their breath mingling as they both panted.
"Mmm ... now that is the way to end a meal."
"Yes. It is.” Dent smiled at him, lips soft against his own.
He enjoyed the peace and pleasure with Dent for a while longer. He hated to break this peace with another foray beyond the door, but perhaps it was this peace that would give Dent the ability to go further this time.
Dent's eyes closed, hands stroking his skin.
He kissed Dent's eyes, his lips. “Come with me now, my dear. I have something for you to do."
"Hmm? What, Bertoli?"
"Come with me.” He tucked himself and Dent back into their trousers, and stood.
Dent stood, blinking slowly. “Where are we going?"
Luttrell met Dent's eyes. He hated doing this, hated bringing Dent's peace crashing down around their ears. But if he didn't push, Dent would stay wrapped up in this safe cocoon for the rest of his life. “To the front door, my dear."
"No. I just did, not too long ago.” Dent's eyes begged him, pleaded.
Oh, he wanted to give in. He wanted to wrap Dent in his arms and let them go play. He could not. “You took a step. Long enough ago. Today you need to take one more."
"Why? Why does it matter, Bertoli?"
"Because if you cannot leave, then this place will become a cage and you will come to hate it, and yourself. And me."
"They're out there. Waiting for me."
"No. This club is like a fortress. Hercules will allow no one here who will hurt you. You will come with me now.” He kept hold of Dent's hands and began to walk backward, drawing Dent along with him.
"Bertoli...” Dent began to pale, breaking out into a cold sweat.
He would reward his lover for this. He would. “My brave and handsome Dent. You are mine, you know. I won't let anyone else have you.” Almost there now, just a few more steps to the door. He could hear the sounds of their breathing.
"You couldn't stop them."
"They aren't here.” They reached the door and he moved to stand next to Dent, to stand with his lover. “Shall we open it together?"
"Please, Bertoli. Please, I can't yet. I won't.” Luttrell could smell the fear pouring off Dent's skin. He didn't think he could remember ever doing anything that was harder than this. Not even when Dent had first been rescued.
He took Dent's hand in his and brought it to the palmplate, pressing it against the metal until the door clicked. “Just two steps outside the door, Dent. That is all I ask of you.” Today.
"Bertoli.” Dent refused to move until he looked over, met Dent's eyes. “After, I need ... I need you to..."
Joy bloomed inside him at Dent asking for it. “We will go to the room, my dear. And together, we will touch the stars."
"Two steps.” Dent began to move, hand clenching his. “Two steps."
"Yes, my dear. Two steps. And I am with you—you don't need to take them alone.” He held just as tightly to Dent, as Dent held onto him.
Dent closed his eyes and took the steps, white as a sheet and panting, but standing this time.
"Very good, my dear. Very good. Now, open your eyes. You must see that it is safe. That there is no one out here.” He kept his voice even, though he noticed it almost echoed, the hallway so much bigger than their apartment.
"No. No. No. No.” The word was chanted, over and over, Dent beginning to panic. Those eyes opened, just a crack.
He stroked Dent's arm with his free hand. “You see? There is no one here. Just you and me.” He kept his voice calm and steady by sheer will alone. He wanted to crow over Dent having come this far. He wanted to slam the door and tell Dent he never had to do this again.
"Inside. Two steps. You promised."
He nodded. “Yes. I am very proud of you, Dent."
"Inside.” Dent tugged him back in, nearly collapsing against the door as it shut.
He guided Dent's hand back to the palmplate the lock clicking loudly into place. And then he tugged again on Dent's hands. “Down the hall and to our room, my dear."
"You'll help me.” Dent followed him, eyes clinging to his. Trusting him.
"Of course, my dear.” Of that there was never any doubt. None at all. He stopped them at the door to the room and wrapped his arms around Dent. “I love you,” he murmured.
"Yes. Yes, Bertoli. Love. Please, help me. I need you."
"And I am here for you.” He drew Dent into the room and helped his lover to lie down on the table. “First, I will bind you. Wrists and ankles, so that you are held fast.” He matched actions to words, hands sliding up along first Dent's arms to attach the cuffs, then over Dent's legs to his ankles.
Dent's breath came quickly, fingers opening and closing, muscles vibrating.
He slid his fingers over Dent's skin, pressing only hard enough not to tickle. “You know how we begin, my dear. We always begin the same way."
"Clean. You help me be clean.” There were tears in Dent's voice.
"Yes, my dear. Water and soap, and then alcohol. I shall clean you from top to bottom.” He pressed a kiss on Dent's lips and then quickly fetched a bowl filled with water and a cloth.
"I need this. I need you to make them go away.” Dent talked to him, words falling from Dent, begging him.
"Away, yes. There is no one here in this room but you and I.” He began to run the washcloth over Dent's skin, going slowly, being absolutely thorough. “I'm washing everything else away."
"Please.” Each touch relaxing Dent a little further.
It was beautiful, the way their time here and their routine had become ingrained in Dent's psyche. “Such a beautiful man, my dear.” He laughed softly, loving this man and being here.
"Love.” Dent's eyes closed, his lover's face relaxing.
"I'm right here with you. Beginning a beautiful session the way we begin them all."
He finished up at Dent's feet, careful not to tickle as he washed between each toe. By the time he'd finished with the soap and water, Dent had relaxed, cock beginning to harden, to swell.
"Mmm, so pretty.” He chuckled happily, settling into himself, into this. Here he had no qualms, here he knew what he was doing. He opened an alcohol swab. “The last step of the cleaning now, my dear."
Dent grimaced. “Will you turn the heat up for me? Please?"
"Of cou
rse, my dear, of course.” He went over and touched it up a fair bit, stopping long enough to strip out of his linens so he was as naked as his lover.
"There, is that better?” he asked as he began to rub the swab quickly over Dent's skin.
"Yes. Thank you.” Dent offered him a wavering smile.
"You're welcome of course, my dear!” He giggled and ran a hand along Dent's belly. “I think we shall try something quite wonderful today, my dear. Something to drive away all thoughts of anyone but me. First I shall clean you inside, yes? A nice warm enema."
Dent shuddered, cheeks flushing dark. “I ... Bertoli..."
He laughed gently. “Yes, you. I know how much you enjoy this.” Even if Dent still complained about it every time. It was a part of their routine.
"Just a small tube today.” Dent would get stretched enough with what he had planned for his lover.
"It unnerves me, how much you touch. How much is yours,” Dent marveled.
He stopped and tilted his head, fingers stroking Dent's hip, without his even thinking about it. “All of you, my dear. All of you is mine."
"Yes.” Dent shivered again, moaned.
He petted one thigh and slid the leg panels further apart, exposing Dent's hole. “Such a pretty little thing,” he murmured, finger stroking over the wrinkled sphincter. He grabbed the smallest tubing, slicked up one end. “Here it comes, my dear. Here's the tubing."
"I ... I ... Yes. Yes, Bertoli."
Oh, so hard. So hard for his sweet lover. He pushed his finger in first, then made quick work of adding the tubing. He stroked the soft skin between Dent's balls and hole, easing and comforting as he began to let the treated water in.
Dent's eyes squeezed tight, breath beginning to pant out of him, sweat sheening the pale skin.
"Shh, shh. You know this, my dear. It is one of the things we do most often.” He began to rub Dent's belly, both distracting and soothing as the water filled Dent's bowels. “And for such a good cause today. Yes, indeed.” He laughed, anticipation thrilling inside him.
"What.... what will we do?"
"I will fill you today with myself. I will leave no room at all for anyone else.” He chuckled. “You'll see."
"With you?” Was it his imagination or did Dent smile?
"With me, my dear. All me. Just me. Me.” He giggled and opened his closed his hand. Oh, yes, he would fill Dent. “I think that's enough of the water, yes?” Dent's belly had begun to strain beneath his soothing fingers. He turned off the water.
"Yes.” Dent groaned, shifting and sliding on the table, restless.
"Just hold it for a moment or two, my dear.” He petted and touched, trying to soothe.
"Bertoli. Bertoli, please.” The words were complaints, but Dent was relaxing into it, breathing.
"I love the way you say my name.” Dent was the only one to call him by his given name. He was Luttrell, or sometimes Doctor, and occasionally “that lunatic” to everyone else, but always Bertoli to Dent.
Dent almost chuckled, eyes opening to look at him, letting him in. “My Bertoli."
"Yes, my dear. Yours. Absolutely."
He opened the table. “You can let go now, my dear. You'll so enjoy what we're going to do."
"I hate this part.” Dent offered that to him as well.
"I know, my dear, but there is nothing you can do that will disgust me, hmm?” He petted Dent's belly. “Let it go, let it all go."
"I know. I know...” Dent shook, fighting his own needs.
He leaned in to Dent's ear, to whisper and to give his lover a small bit of privacy. “It will be worth it, my dear. I promise."
It was enough, Dent giving in without fighting a war.
He smiled down at his lover, and gave Dent a soft kiss. “Excellent, my dear.” He placed another kiss on Dent's belly, and one on his cock before closing the flap back up. “The sound, first. I am going to blow your mind.” He felt almost giddy with anticipation.
"First.” Dent relaxed into the chair, breathing nice and slow. “I'm yours. All of me."
His laughter pealed out, his pleasure too much to keep contained inside. “All of you, yes!” He grabbed the sound with the rosette on top of it, knowing Dent enjoyed the stimulation it afforded.
"This one. This one with the pretty, bumpy flower."
Dent groaned, licked his lips, cock throbbing.
Oh, yes. That one. He grabbed the lube and pressed the tip of the tube against Dent's slit. “Slick first, my dear. It will be cold to start with.” He squeezed the tube, lube shooting out into Dent's slit.
Dent arched, muscles taut and straining against the bonds. “Cold. Cold. Bertoli."
He chuckled. “Oh, yes. You'll quickly warm it up, my dear.” He squeezed a bit more in and then manipulated Dent's cock, squeezing the tip to make some of the lube splut out. He rubbed it across the tip of Dent's prick.
"Evil. Evil man.” Dent's hips started thrusting, rocking into his touch with short, sharp motions.
"Very evil, making you feel so good.” He dipped the sound into the tube of lube and squeezed Dent's cock again with his other hand. “Still, now, while I do this.” Once the sound was in, Dent would not be able to come until he removed it, just as he wanted.
"I ... I don't know...” Dent stilled, eyes rolling.
"Of course you do.” He teased the end of the sound around the tip of Dent's cock, then dipped it into the man's slit.
Dent went perfectly still, breath caught in his throat.
"Mmm ... such a pretty cock. Hot and silky, full and wide.” He carefully pushed in the sound until it wasn't quite halfway in, and then let it drop the rest of the way.
"Bertoli!” Dent tugged against the cuffs, muscles tight, jerking, fighting the pressure inside him, the need.
"Right here, my dear. Right here.” He moved the tip of the sound, watching as the petals of the rose bumped across the tip.
"No. No, I can't. It's so big...” Dent seemed to be flying, head tossing as his throat worked.
He slid his hand along Dent's cheek and brought their mouths together, kissing Dent until they were both breathless. “You can, my dear,” he murmured as he pulled away. “You have to because I'm going to make it bigger."
"Bigger? Nothing else will fit."
He threw his head back and laughed, utterly delighted. “Oh, Dent, you do make me so happy. And I promise, I am not planning on putting anything else into your cock today.” He slid his hand between Dent's legs, one finger teasing the wrinkled hole. “Here though. Here there will be more."
"M ... more.” That little hole clenched, shifted against his touch.
"Yes, my dear. So much more.” He slicked up his finger and slid it right in, Dent's body hot and silky.
Dent moaned and smiled, body squeezing him as the flat stomach rippled a bit.
He chuckled. “Yes, this you know and love, don't you, my dear? I will touch you deep today. I will. No room left for anyone but me inside you."
"Yes. Yes, please, Bertoli. I need you."
"I know.” He smiled as he slipped a second slick finger in, so slowly stretching his lover, making this last and last. “I need you, too, yes?” It was important that Dent know he wasn't the only one.
Dent relaxed into the touches, riding him gently. “You're mine. My lover. My friend."
He beamed at Dent, the pleasure at the words warm and wonderful inside him. “Yes, my dear. Absolutely.” He touched the tip of the sound, making the rose petals shift against Dent's slit as his fingers slid in and out of Dent's ass.
Those lovely eyes flew open, the look a touch panicked and a bit wanton, all at once. “Bertoli!"
He laughed, utterly delighted with the way Dent gave over all of himself, every emotion. He touched the rose again. “Amazing, is it not?"
"Oh. That ... That is...” Dent shivered, head tossing a bit.
"Yes, my dear, I know. I know.” He removed his fingers and added more lube to them. He pushed three into Dent, his Dent opening easily
for him. His dear lover had no idea what he planned, Luttrell knew because the long throat was arched, Dent moving easily, eagerly. He would not give a warning as it would only worry Dent, make the man tense up, make this impossible or painful. Luttrell had no intention of it being either.
"So beautiful,” he murmured, manipulating the sound, tugging it out a bit and sliding it back into place as he slipped a fourth finger into Dent's body under cover of the sensations caused by the sound.
"Mmm. Full.” Dent hummed, eyes closed again, cheeks flushed.
"Full of me.” Carefully, he pushed his fingers in further, moving them slowly, turning them as well as pushing them in and nearly out again.
"Yes...” Dent stretched, pulling against the bonds, muscles rippling.
He laughed—how could he not with so much emotion inside him, his lover full of him and feeling every little thing? “More, Dent. I will fill you more."
"There ... there is only so far I can stretch."
"You can stretch more,” he murmured, giggling. “I will hold you in my hand. I will.” He spread more lube on his hand and tucked his thumb in, slowly pushing in. This time he did not play with the sound or do anything else to distract Dent. He wanted his lover to feel this, to know.
"Bertoli. Bertoli, please.” Those eyes met his, the beginning of worry blooming there.
He stroked Dent's face with his free hand, smiling at his lover. “Shh. Relax, my dear. I would never push you too far, you know that.” Just trust me, my dear, he thought. You need to do that.
He continued to push.
Dent keened, breath coming fast and shallow, the muscles tight around his knuckles.
He shook his head. “No, no, my dear. Relax. Relax.” He spoke quietly, free hand sliding on Dent's skin, gentling his lover. The moment the tight muscles eased, he pushed his hand in.
The sound that rang through the air echoed within him, Dent's cry deep and raw.
"Inside you, my dear,” he whispered. “Joined as no others."
"Bertoli.” Dent gasped, eyes wide open and staring at him, glazed with tears.
