Three Wishes

by Sean Michael

  “And I love you, Alan. More than I could ever say. I would never do this with anyone else. I never have. It is yours alone, just as you are mine.”

  “Yes, Master. I want nothing more than to please you.”

  “You always do.”

  His eyes actually filled with tears, his heart was so full. Roman kissed his nose, and his lips, his cheeks, then his eyelids. His eyes closed, and he gave himself over, let himself be open and melted and ready.

  Two of his master’s fingers pushed against his hole, then right in. His thighs spread, one knee bending to give Roman more room.

  “We start with the familiar, with the comfortable and necessary. The beginning.”

  The beginning. “Where I became yours.”

  “Yes.” Roman’s fingers slipped away, then three returned, filling him.

  Alan hummed, images of their early relationship flooding his mind—dances and wooing, his Master teaching him each and every one of Roman’s specific needs.

  “Look at you.” Roman was, gaze on his face, before glancing along his body and back up again. “I swear you become more lovely every day.”

  He blushed, the praise filling him. “Master.”

  Chuckling, Roman rubbed their noses together. The fingers inside him wriggled and stretched and played over his sweet spot. Gasping softly, Alan rode the pleasure, the touch.

  “More now.” Roman’s fingers slid away, Roman applying extra to them.

  “Your touch is magic. The first time you touched me, I couldn’t breathe.”

  “Yes? And this?” Roman’s hand returned to his hole, four fingers pushing in, making him stretch to take their girth.

  “Full. So much.” So very much.

  “Not quite as full as you’re going to be.” Roman tapped against the soft skin inside him.

  “No. No, not quite.” His breath threatened to catch in his chest.

  Roman pulled out and added lube. Alan’s hips kept moving, even with Roman’s touch gone.

  “Mmm. Yes.” Roman’s soft murmurs slid over his ears, warmed him inside.

  He moved closer, curling into Roman’s warmth, the muscled protection. Roman eased him and protected him. Roman was his and he was Roman’s, and that was the one true constant in their lives.

  “Ready for this, Alan?” Roman teased at his hole.

  “Yes, Master. Roman.”

  “Mine.” Roman curled his fingers together and spread him open.

  “I swear. Forever.” His body tightened, but only for a second, a heartbeat.

  As soon as he loosened, Roman pushed in a little farther. “Yes. Forever.”

  “F…for. Forev… Oh, Sir.” So full.

  “I have you.” Roman smiled at him, fist pushing and pushing.

  All Alan could do was nod, gasping as his lips parted.

  “I have you in the palm of my hand.” And Roman did, entire hand inside his body now.

  This sound left him—deep and rough and raw.

  “Yes, yes, surrender yourself to me, Alan.”

  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All he could do was let Roman in deep.

  Finally the widest part of Roman’s hand was inside him, and the rest came easily. Another of those awful sounds escaped him, tore from him.

  “That’s it. Give me everything.”

  He offered tears and groans, deep cries and pleas. Everything. He offered over everything. Roman’s hand turned into a fist, moving inside him, pushing every sound and thought out of him.

  “Master. Please.”

  “I’ll let you come when I’m ready—when you are ready.”

  “Yes, Sir.” It was the only possible answer.

  Roman’s fist slid and pushed and pulled and made him want to scream, until finally, when he really thought he couldn’t wait a moment longer, Roman murmured, “Come for me, love.”

  He sobbed, balls throbbing as he shot, his entire world shorting out.

  Roman was still there when he became aware of his surroundings again, his Master’s hand inside him, soft kisses raining on his face.

  “Master.” The room was swimming.

  “Always and forever, Alan. Always and forever.”

  * * * *

  Roman sat back in the world’s comfiest deck chair, watching the waves come in on the beach through the bedroom window. There was a full moon hanging low and heavy over the ocean. It was beautiful, his drink was perfect, and he could still feel the tight grip of Alan’s body around his hand.

  His lover was sleeping, he hoped blissfully.

  It had been an intense evening. Between the scene going wrong and Alan confessing he’d been excited by the flogging Master, worrying about it. His dear, sweet sub. Roman knew, whatever other men might catch Alan’s eyes, his lover would never betray him, never act on that attraction.

  Alan’s love was the single sure thing in a world of uncertainty. The fact that his sub would worry so much about the slight feeling of attraction he had for another strong Master only confirmed that for Roman.

  He took a sip of his brandy and a deep breath of the lovely ocean air. Alan stretched under the sheets, his name a soft murmur as his sub slept. It made him smile. There was his sub, focusing on him even in sleep. He knew if he went over there and looked, that tiny hole would be pink, swollen, stretched from his hand.

  Thinking about it made him hard. The trust Alan had in him was heady, arousing.

  Alan’s eyes opened, peering over at him. “Master?”

  “Mmm, yes, my love?”

  “Are you okay? Is it late?” Sweet, sleepy boy.

  “It’s late. There’s a beautiful night sky.”

  Alan rolled up, walking toward him. Roman opened his arms and his lover settled in his lap with a soft sigh.

  “Good dreams?”

  “Mmmhmm. You and me.”

  “Oh, very good dreams.” He offered his glass over to Alan.

  Alan sipped, humming softly. “That’s luscious.”

  “Almost as luscious as you.”

  “Flatterer.” Alan kissed him.

  “I don’t need to flatter you.”

  “Mmm. I can feel you, all throughout me.”

  “Good. You feeling better about everything?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry about earlier. I overreacted.”

  “Maybe, but I’d rather you shared everything with me and risked overreacting than holding it in.” It was part of why they worked, their ability to share everything.

  Alan kissed Roman’s jaw, rocked softly like he was dancing.

  “Are you looking forward to our last three scenes?”

  Alan nodded. “Although I have to admit that the time I’ve spent with you has been the best part.”

  “It has been wonderful, hasn’t it?” They’d grown closer, even in just a few days.

  “Yes. Yes, I love to spend time with you.”

  “It’s like a vacation, only far more intense.”

  “It’s more private. More like we’re the only people alive.”

  “Indeed. With magical elves bringing everything we need.” They hadn’t seen anyone aside from the other Masters at the scenes. Their food and other needs simply appeared.

  “Yes!” Alan’s happy laughter made him smile.

  Holding his lover close, he let his eyes drift back to the moon and the ocean. It didn’t take long before his boy was asleep again, holding him.

  It was perfect. In fact, this whole vacation so far was perfect. Even the unsuccessful scene and the subsequent discussion they’d had was nothing less than exactly what they’d needed.

  Good thing, too—it was costing them a fortune. One he’d spend over and over to know his sweet sub was happy.

  Chapter Eleven

  Fantasy Three

  Quinn paced, wishing for the thousandth time that he hadn’t decided to do this. Separate vacations, they’d agreed. Time apart. A cooling-off period. Right. Just what they needed. Quinn would be the first to admit that he wasn’t easy to live with—he
was dramatic and loud, temperamental and demanding, and when he was writing, he could be focused.

  Then again, Pierce was busy himself. Incredibly driven. Asshole.

  There was a light knock on the door. This was it. This was the man who was going to fulfill his deepest, darkest, secret fantasies. Stuff he’d never told anyone, especially not Pierce.

  He was sitting on an examination table, fingers twined together, holding himself tight. “Come in.”

  “Good morning. I’m Dr. Donahue.”

  Dr. Donahue. As in Dr. Pierce Donahue.

  As in Quinn’s lover, who was dressed in his lab coat, stethoscope around his neck, and looking at the chart in his hand.

  Oh God.

  Oh God.

  He didn’t even stop to think. He just ran like the devil himself was on his heels.

  * * * *

  Pierce couldn’t believe he was on this beautiful island, preparing to give some guy medical examinations to fulfill the guy’s fantasies. Actually, what he couldn’t believe was the amount of money he was getting paid to do it. He’d come to give a man who wanted body mods a quick exam, and he’d been paid more than enough for that. Then they’d asked him to stay and perform medical exams and tests on this other guy. A gorgeous private island, a ton of money—he couldn’t say no, and he hadn’t.

  After walking in, he’d introduced himself and looked up from the patient chart in his hands, only to see his ‘patient’ running in the opposite direction. Lean and dark, the man looked incredibly familiar. Like his wild child lover that he’d left back home. Would that make this easier, or harder?

  And was he supposed to chase the man down? Was that a part of the fantasy experience for this guy? He looked back at the clipboard he had, which outlined what was expected of him. He didn’t see anything there, so he headed in the same direction his patient had taken.

  The little guy was quick, disappearing into a cabin, the door slamming shut. Christ on a crutch. Clearly a case of cold feet. Was he still going to get paid? He looked around, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do next.

  He heard a voice coming from the cabin. He stepped forward so he could listen. “…don’t understand. This… He’s my… He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know it’s me. I’ll still pay. I just have to call it all off. I want to go home.”

  Fuck, this guy actually sounded like Quinn, too.

  Pierce knocked firmly on the door.

  “Go away. They’ll pay you. I changed my mind.” There was true hysteria in that voice.

  “Quinn? Is that you?” It couldn’t be, could it? It didn’t make any sense. It really didn’t.

  “Go away.” Hysteria and shame.

  “Shit, babe, if that’s you, you’d better open this door right now.” He wanted to know what the fuck was going on.

  A man came down the path in a business suit, smiling at him. “Dr. Donahue, I’m afraid there’s been a mistake.”

  “Oh, yeah? What kind of mistake?”

  “Your client has changed his mind. Your time is your own for the rest of the week. All of the facilities are at your disposal, and you will, of course, receive full payment.”

  “My client. You mean Quinn. That’s my partner in there, I know it.” What the hell? Quinn had a medical fetish? He was a fucking doctor—why hadn’t Quinn ever said anything?

  He would swear the man’s eyes twinkled.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Our clients’ privacy is respected totally. However, please do enjoy the island.”

  “This is fucking insane.”

  “I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. However, the next flight off the island isn’t for five days…”

  Wait. Wait, was this man telling him he had five days to deal with this? “So, I should just relax and take a paid vacation is what you’re saying, huh?”

  “I do think that would be the wisest thing, sir.”

  “Well, then. I guess that’s what I’ll do.” He kept hold of the clipboard, intent on re-reading it now that he knew the man whose fantasy it was. If they’d only put Quinn’s name down, he’d have known.

  “Have a fabulous vacation.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  He watched the guy walk away, then turned his attention back to the little cottage in front of him. So. How exactly did he do this?

  The phone inside rang within minutes, and he heard Quinn’s voice. “Hello? Yes. Thank you. I’m sorry. I just… I never… He’d hate me and I couldn’t… I love him, huh? Yeah. Can I fly out? Five days? Oh God…”

  He knocked on the door again. He was going to hate Quinn if they didn’t get to the bottom of this. He was confused, he wasn’t happy, that was for fucking sure, but to hate his lover for secret fantasies? Did Quinn really believe he was like that?

  Quinn’s voice sounded, right by the door. “Who is it? I don’t need anything.”

  “Let me in, Quinn.”

  “Please go away.” The door opened a crack, his lover right there, pale as milk.

  “Quinn! It is you. Come on. Let me in. We need to talk.” Did they ever need to talk. Maybe for five days. “Sage Quinn Williams, you open that door now.”

  “I…” A single tear escaped Quinn’s eyes, but his lover moved away from the door, heading back into the dark cabin.

  “Shit, Quinn.” He went in and closed the door behind him, put the clipboard down on the table next to the door. “I… Come here.” He opened his arms—he couldn’t just ignore that pale face, the tears.

  His wild lover barreled into his arms, sobbing. “I’m so sorry.”

  He held on tight, focusing on just this, on the fact that they loved each other. “Shh. Shh.”

  Quinn wrapped around him, his lover’s passion and emotion like a storm.

  “We’ll deal with this, we’ll figure it out.”

  Quinn shook his head. “Just forget that it happened. It was a whim. Silly.”

  Pierce snorted. Hard. “Given what they’re paying me, I can only imagine what you paid them. This is no whim.”

  Quinn’s cheeks flushed dark, chin ducked.

  “You ready to talk? To tell me what this is all about?” To tell me why the fuck you’ve never said anything? I’m a doctor, for fuck’s sake.

  “I just…” Quinn shook his head.

  “You want to take a bit of time to just enjoy the location?” Look at him, being understanding and patient and shit. Quinn had better appreciate this. “There was a hammock down near the beach between a couple of palm trees. It looked big enough for two.”

  Quinn nodded. “I’m sorry. I just. You have your coat on. Do you want to go change?”

  “I don’t know. You want just your lover or your lover the doctor?”

  Quinn’s mouth opened and closed, over and over. Pierce had read the file. Quinn wanted to be submissive, wanted to be examined, touched, spread and filled and stretched. It had been very thorough about everything, aside from the man’s name, of course.

  “Come on, babe. Not talking about it isn’t going to make this go away. The cat is so out of the bag, it’s not even in the same country as the bag anymore.” And he wasn’t going to let it go. Shit, he couldn’t.

  “It’s just a thing. I didn’t mean for you to find out.”

  “Just a thing?” He shook his head and, arm still around Quinn’s shoulders, led him out of the door and toward the hammock. “This isn’t ‘just’ anything, babe. Let’s be upfront about that.”

  “I just… I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want things to be weird. I wish I’d just never… “

  “It’s too late for wishes.”

  They got to the hammock and he contemplated how best to get them both in it.

  “Yeah.” Quinn held the hammock for him.

  He climbed in, steadied it with one foot and held out his arms. Quinn still wouldn’t look at him, but his lover crawled into his arms, carefully. It was quiet for a long time.

  He was the one to finally break the quiet. “So…”

  “It was a f
antasy. Just a fantasy.”

  “If that’s all it was, we wouldn’t be here.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Because I got a call from these guys offering me a shitload of money to play doctor.” And that was just for the initial routine exam of the dude wanting body mods. He’d thought it was a prank. Then they’d offered him a ton more to do this ‘other guy’. Had they known? They must have.

  Quinn’s cheeks went almost purple, eyes closed.

  “Come on, Quinn. Talk to me.”

  “I was stupid. This was supposed to be totally anonymous. I can’t believe they called you. I should sue.”

  They were totally getting off track here—he wasn’t interested in discussing the people who ran this place. “I can’t believe this is how I fucking found out you’re into this.”

  “I should go. I’ll stay in my cabin until they can fly me out. I promise. When we get back, if you want me out, I’ll go to the apartment in the city, okay?”

  “What the fuck? You want to run away instead of dealing with this? What if I think it’s a fucking turn on? What if I don’t but want to do it for you anyway? What if I think you’re a freak—you are, by the way, but I’ve thought that long before this—and I love you anyway?”

  “I don’t want to do it with you if it’s just for me.”

  “Why not?”

  Quinn wouldn’t look at him. “Because I want it to be real, if it is you with me. I mean. A stranger…that’s like a sex toy.”

  “Well, you’ll never know if you don’t talk to me about it, tell me what you want, what you need.”

  Quinn shook his head. “So, what? I’m supposed to admit that I have sick fantasies about you? Jesus. I just… I just wanted to try, to do them so that I can stop thinking about you like that!”

  “So they’re sick, these fantasies of yours?” Were they? If he’d thought they were sick fantasies, he wouldn’t have been here. Weird, yes. Different, strange, unusual, not something he’d ever even dreamed of. But sick? He hadn’t thought so when he’d agreed to do this before he’d known it was Quinn.

  “Oh, come on. Normal people don’t… That’s not… I just…”