by Sean Michael
When the leather hit his skin, it wasn’t even sharp, just a deep, good thud. It came again across his shoulders, and he could feel it deep in his balls. He moaned, fingers curling around the chains. Harrison groaned into their kiss, and the leather hit him again. He whimpered softly. It felt so good.
“I have you,” Harrison whispered. The leather kept falling.
“It burns. Don’t leave me here.”
“I’m not leaving you anywhere, Giles.”
“Okay. Okay. I. Oh.” The next blow left him a little breathless.
“Right here. With you.” More hits, each thud going through him.
He started groaning, grunting with each and every blow. Harrison held him throughout, body warm and solid in front of him as the leather thudded against the skin of his back. He slumped in the chains, trusting them and Harrison to hold him up.
They did. Harrison did. The hits melded one into the other, warmth spreading across his back. His breath came in time with the blows, his body shivering. Harrison’s lips slid over his face, kissing, caressing. He moaned softly, so lost but so found, all at once.
It continued, Harrison breathing into him with every hit. At some point the warmth became heat, became pain, the relaxation threatening to become tension again. Just as it was becoming too much, Harrison stopped hitting him with the leather, letting it trail over his skin instead. Giles took one hitching breath after another.
The touches eventually faded away, leaving only him and Harrison in a cone of silence.
***
Harrison leaned his forehead against Giles’ and breathed in and out with his sub. It had been amazing to watch Giles go from worry and panic to pleasure and then bliss. And now this lovely, deep quiet that they shared together. Every now and then he pressed a kiss to Giles’ lips, his jaw, his cheek.
He let it go as long as he could, let Giles stay right there, and then he slid his hand up Giles’ stretched arms and slowly undid the cuffs. He caught Giles as the man slumped down, cradling him easily as he moved them to the bed. Once Giles was laid out, he started massaging the long arms.
Giles took little, hitching breaths, slowly relaxing for him, melting. Moaning. Oh yes, Giles was in a good space, quiet and still, no worries filling him.
Harrison had known the man was a natural pain slut, but this had gone better than anything he could have hoped for. He wondered how long the bliss and quiet would last, how deep the pain had gone.
He’d watched the fury as Giles painted, the ferocity. Now it was time for them. He would feed Giles, love on him, take him to this place of bliss. Make it good. He pressed a kiss on Giles’ belly, rubbed his hand over one sweet ass cheek.
“I. Is this okay?”
“This is wonderful -- don’t you feel it?”
“Yes.” Giles nodded.
“How’s your back?” He wasn’t going to put anything on it that would numb the pain. Giles needed to feel everything.
“Warm.”
“Good. It’ll stay that way for awhile.”
“Okay. I just want to stay here for a minute.”
“We can stay here for a lot longer than a minute.”
“Okay.” Giles nodded again.
He chuckled and lay down, hand wrapping around Giles’ hip. “So what do you usually do when you’re not painting?”
“I’m always painting.”
“Not anymore.” There would be more balance to Giles’ life now. He would see to it. He had to protect this man, even from himself.
“Shh. I have to.”
“I’m not saying don’t paint. I’m saying not always.”
“What else would I do? What do you do? I mean, I go out sometimes, hook up, but not so much now.”
“Read, exercise, go to the park, watch TV...”
“Oh.” Giles chuckled. “I paint. Listen to music.”
“And now you hang out with me, too.”
“Mmm. I like your house.”
“Good.”
Giles’ hand slid along his skin, the touch long, lazy. Harrison hummed and pushed close, letting their bodies rub. “Oh. Oh, this is... tell me you like this.”
“I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t, G.”
“Okay.” Giles leaned in, lips brushing his collarbone.
“Mmm. Nice.”
“Yes. Your skin tastes so good.”
“What does it taste like?”
“Warm red.”
“Yeah?” He thought Giles’ brain was a fascinating place.
“Yes. With the tiniest bit of burnt umber.”
“Do I always taste like those colors? Do my kisses taste like a different color than my skin?” He wanted to see himself like Giles did.
“Yes. Your kisses are purples. Deeper, quieter. You make all the sounds stop screaming at me.”
He’d never heard subspace described like that before, but he liked it. “Cool.”
Every time Giles blinked, the long eyelashes tickled his skin. It eventually made him shiver and laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“You’re tickling.”
“Am not.” Giles blinked again.
He laughed again and nodded. “Are too.”
“Not.” Blink.
This time the sound he made was almost a snort. “Too.”
Giles started laughing, soft and gentle, the sound addictive. Smiling, he ran his hand through Giles’ hair. Those lovely eyes looked up at him. Someone liked that. He tugged a little, pulling Giles’ head back, exposing the long throat, and Giles’ lips parted as his neck stretched.
Groaning, he leaned in and wrapped his lips around Giles’ skin.
“Harrison...”
Giles tasted salty. “Hmm?”
“You are an amazing lover.”
Oh, he liked to hear that. It made him feel like a god. “You deserve it. Deserve me.”
“How come you didn’t have a lover?”
“I didn’t have one. Now I do.” It was as simple as that. He’d been wanting Giles. “And you’re everything I could have ever asked for.”
“I’m an artist, that’s all.”
“’That’s all,’ like it’s nothing.” Silly man.
“No, it’s more than nothing, but it makes for a bad boyfriend situation.”
“I can deal with that.”
Giles chuckled for him. “Stubborn man.”
“Very. And I’m not giving you up.” He let his hand slide over Giles’ back, the skin hot. “No one else can give you this.”
“It was so different.”
“Better than cutting, though, wasn’t it?”
Giles could deny it all he wanted, but Harrison knew. He knew.
Giles’ fingers brushed over his lips. “Shh.”
“Whether you admit it or not, it’s still true.”
“You talk a lot.”
That had him laughing. “I think it’s more a matter of me saying things you want to keep secret, hidden.”
“Secrets are very important.”
“Are they?
“Yes.” Giles sounded very sure.
“But if I already know them...”
Those lovely eyes met his, the look curious. “What?”
“They aren’t secrets if I already know them. Like you cutting, you needing the pain, loving it.”
“I... It just... It happens. That’s all.”
“No, it doesn’t ‘just’ happen. You make it happen. And now I will.”
Giles shook his head. “Shh. Just shh.”
Harrison grinned, shook his head, too; he was enjoying the heck out of himself. “No, I won’t.”
“Why not?” Someone was getting riled up.
“Because I like the way it makes you react. And because it’s the truth.”
> “React how? I’m not crazy. You know that.”
Whoever had put Giles in the loony bin needed to be beaten. “Did I say I thought you were crazy? I know you’re not. And I know what you need, and I know there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“You’re the only one.”
“No I’m not -- you know.”
“I do. I know.” Giles sighed for him, eyes closing.
“And you have to stop beating yourself up for needing it. There’s nothing wrong with what you need, what we do.”
Giles sat up, pulled away. “You talk about it like it’s nothing, like it’s normal.”
“Because to me, it is.” He thought, maybe, that scared Giles a bit, that something so important, so secret, was normal to him. “We’re going to make each other fly, Giles.”
“I’m not feeling in control here.”
“You can stop this anytime you want, G.”
“Anytime?”
“Anytime.”
“Okay.” Giles reached for his hand, held it.
He squeezed Giles’ hand and settled their foreheads together, breathing Giles in.
Chapter Eight
Giles woke up to his phone ringing, Marisa’s ring tone filling the air with “Day-O.”
God, he’d been asleep. Again.
He headed to his pants, the skin on his back buzzing nicely, and grabbed his phone. “’Lo?”
“Giles? Where are you?” His twin sounded worried.
“Huh?”
“You’re not at the studio. Where are you?”
He frowned. “Are the paintings okay?”
“Yes. Yes, of course they are. They’re stunning. I’m worried about you, dork. You’re always at the studio.” She laughed softly. “Do you want to have lunch? I haven’t seen you in days.”
The urge to say no was huge. He wanted to stay with Harrison for a little longer. Still, she was his sister, his twin, and he felt a little pang.
Harrison rolled over in the bed. “Giles?”
He nodded. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll go in the other room.”
“Giles?” Marisa sounded shocked. “Are you with a lover?”
“Shut up.”
“You are!” She squealed. “Oh, my God!”
“S’okay -- who is that?” Harrison stretched. “I can hear them from here.”
“My sister the banshee.” He actually laughed, shook his head. “Can I take a rain check? Please?”
“Yes, but I want to meet him. Dinner. My house. Tomorrow. If he can’t, just text. We’ll make something yummy.”
“That’s fair. I’ll text. Love you, huh?”
“Of course you do. Are the canvases off the easel ready for framing?”
He thought about that, about which ones were last. “They are.”
“Good. Do not freak out when you get home and they’re gone.”
“I won’t.”
Her laughter sounded again. “You will, too. Bye, Gilly.”
“Bye, Silly.”
He hung up, all grins.
“Gilly? Did she call you Gilly?” Harrison laughed.
“She always has.” He laughed along. “She wants you to come to dinner tomorrow.”
“Yeah?” Harrison nodded. “I need to double-check my calendar, but I’d like that.”
“If you’re busy, I’ll cancel. She said it wasn’t a big deal.” He wanted Marisa to like Harrison.
Harrison stood and stretched and grabbed his laptop, bringing up a calendar screen. “No, I’m good.”
“Okay.” He reached down, grabbed his pants again. He needed to get dressed.
Harrison came over and rubbed his ass. “Mmm, where are you going?”
“Nowhere. Dressed.” Those hands felt so good. “I sleep a lot when I’m with you.”
“I’ve been with you -- you aren’t sleeping that much.”
“Feels like I am. You’re warm.”
“You’re may be sleeping more than you usually do, but that doesn’t make it a lot.”
That hand kept moving, distracting him from getting dressed. “Hmm?”
Harrison pulled him in close. “Come be warm with me.”
His pants fell from his fingers, the touch fascinating. Long fingers slid over his belly, almost tickling, but not.
“You’re painting me.” It was the hottest thing ever.
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“Yes.” He moaned, eyes on Harrison’s touch. It surprised him that his skin didn’t change colors.
“What color am I painting?”
“Red.” That was easy. Red.
“Red for passion.” Hunter’s fingers kept stroking over his skin. Red meant so much more than that, but it would work for now. “Is this red, too?” Harrison bent and licked at his shoulder, then ran the hot tongue along his collarbone.
“Bright. Red with yellow shot through.”
Harrison groaned and nibbled at his neck.
“Yes...” He loved the sting. Loved it.
Tongue flicking out, Harrison licked where he’d nibbled, then bit again, a little harder this time.
“Oh. Hungry.” It was so easy to get caught here.
“I like the way you hunger.”
His cock was paying attention, filling, swelling between his thighs.
“I like it a lot.” Harrison tilted his head and wrapped warm lips around Giles’ Adam’s apple.
His eyes closed and Giles held on, lights going off behind his eyelids. The sucking was soft, but growing in strength, Harrison tugging on his skin. He swallowed, shivering with it. One hand slid over to his left nipple, tweaking the ring, and he went up on tiptoe, that ache deep. Harrison’s hum vibrated all through his throat.
“Oh.” He didn’t know where to move. The world was lit in color.
Harrison drew his body in closer, rubbing them together as the sensations continued. Fuck, his body ached, the sensation delicious.
Harrison pushed him up against the wall, the cold shocking against his back. He jerked, almost pulled away. Harrison had him, though, pushed him back against the wall, keeping him there. So strong. So fucking strong. It made him a little dry-mouthed.
Harrison let go of his throat and brought their mouths together instead. The kiss was slow, deep, made him breathless.
“Could kiss you all fucking day.”
“Okay.” He was flexible.
Laughing, Harrison kept on kissing him.
The wall warmed and he relaxed again. Everything with Harrison was a mix of relaxation, then tension, then relaxation again. As if reading his mind, Harrison’s fingers slid toward his right nipple, stroking his skin on the way. His abs clenched, his nipple going tight in anticipation.
Harrison made him wait, fingers moving so slowly, and then circling his nipple instead of touching it or tugging the ring.
“Oh...” He moaned happily, the sensation brilliant.
Not touching that nipple, Harrison’s fingers wandered over toward the other one instead. It was so easy to just feel. Those warm fingers moved between his nipples, teasing him for a long time before the right nipple got a flick of a fingertip across it. The touch was sharp enough that he gasped, eyes opening.
Harrison was looking right at him, into him maybe.
“What?” He moaned, body tingling.
“Just making sure you’re with me.”
“Here. Right here.”
Harrison nodded, then tugged on his right nipple ring, making Giles grit his teeth against the ache. The tug came again, Harrison leaning in to lick along his collarbone some more.
“Enough. They ache.”
“That’s not for you to say.” Harrison tugged again.
“I... Is too.” Ass. It was his body, wasn’t it?
> “Nope. Not here. Not now.” Then Harrison took his mouth, forestalling any other protests.
Giles forgot what they were talking about, attention caught by the kiss. Those magical fingers slid on his skin again, teasing and warming him. The world was spinning, so perfect.
Some of the touches were soft, gentle. Others struck suddenly, a twist of a nipple rings, a pinch to his hip. Suddenly it was too much, and he pulled away, confused, heart pounding. “Stop. I need to breathe.”
“You can breathe without me stopping.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s too big.”
“You can.” Harrison sounded so sure as he tweaked Giles’ nipples again.
He stepped away, eyes searching for the door in this room.
Harrison tugged him up against the strong body. “You can.”
“No.” He leaned back, soaked up the warmth. “I don’t understand you.”
“I just want to push you further than you think you can go.” Harrison’s mouth landed on his shoulder, working his skin.
“What does that even mean?” His head fell forward.
“It means when you say stop, I’m just getting started.” Harrison’s teeth scraped along his skin.
He groaned, shook his head, dizzy with it. One of Harrison’s hands spread across his belly, holding him back against the strong body. The other one wandered. Through it all, Harrison nibbled and bit and drove him half crazy. “I. I can’t. I can’t think!”
“Who said you needed to?” Harrison didn’t stop, just kept nibbling and nuzzling and licking and biting and touching.
“Let me go. Let me go. Let me go.”
“No. No. No.” Each ‘no’ came with a bite.
He shivered, stomped his feet in a tiny whirl of frustration. The movements made Harrison hum and bite harder. Finally he pulled out of Harrison’s arms and ran, the urge irresistible.
“Stop!” Harrison didn’t shout, but there was a tone in his voice, something... undeniable. Giles’ steps screeched to a stop without his brain even telling them to. “You’re not going anywhere yet, G. We’re nowhere near finished.”
“I. I. I have to. I need to.”
Harrison came to him, turned him around, and quieted his words with a kiss. He took a deep breath. Harrison couldn’t keep shutting him up with kisses.
