Last Wish

by Shelley Munro

  “I—” Dillon broke off to clear his throat and tried again. “I could if you think you’d enjoy it.” Their gazes met and held for long seconds. Understanding leapt between them without the need for words. With heart thudding, he reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of supple leather handcuffs. Lined with soft fur to prevent rubbing, they were his preferred restraints, although he’d experimented with rope and that came a close second. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

  His lover didn’t answer, extending his wrists instead for him to put on the cuffs. Dillon decided he’d restrain Zane’s hands but leave his feet free. Trust needed to be earned—he understood that. Hell, he sympathized with Zane’s need for free will, but first things first.

  He smiled and squeezed Zane’s shoulder gently. “I’m not going to cuff you until you give me verbal confirmation.”

  “I want you to cuff me before we make love,” Zane said, both his voice and body language speaking of confidence, of trust.

  Dillon lifted one of Zane’s wrists to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the delicate inner skin, filling his senses with his lover’s patently male aroma. Zane watched him the entire time, eyes full of faith when he raised his arms above his head and clipped the first cuff into place. A tight sensation gripped his chest. The absolute faith on Zane’s face humbled him, tightening his throat. Dillon swallowed and fastened the cuff to the bedhead. He repeated the process with Zane’s other wrist. “The key for the cuffs is in the drawer,” he said. “But I would never leave you like this.” Dillon studied his lover’s face, searching for signs of distress but found none. He moved down the bed and started stroking Zane’s body, trailing his fingers over biceps and pectoral muscles. A drop of water he’d missed attracted his attention. He leaned over and licked it away with his tongue. He lapped up another droplet, laving across a flat masculine nipple once he’d gathered the liquid on the tip of his tongue. “You taste salty.” He licked away the fine sheen of sweat on Zane’s chest.

  The restraints clacked against the bedhead when Zane shifted a fraction. “I thought you might tease me, torture me a little,” he said gruffly.

  “And you’d be right. Just taking it easy at first.” Dillon lifted his head to wink. “Don’t want to scare you too much.”

  Zane grunted, his muscular body stiffening with renewed tension. Dillon noticed his erection had deflated as well and grinned inwardly. He’d see about that. Lots of water drops down there. He pinched one of his nipples and stroked his hipbone, gradually moving down toward his groin, gathering any small droplets of water on the way. The rigidity seeped slowly from Zane and he relaxed into the mattress. Dillon smiled against his abs, continuing his journey. To his great satisfaction, Zane’s cock lengthened, rubbing against his cheek when he kissed and nibbled across his abdomen.

  Zane flinched.

  “Aha, someone is ticklish.”

  “No!”

  “Shall I put it to the test?”

  “No.”

  Dillon snickered. “Oh yeah, genie.” He used his tongue to lick a return path across his abdomen, and once again his lover winced. Aha, Dillon thought. Time to move this seduction along. He moved up Zane’s body to pay attention to his lips. “You have a beautiful mouth. I love seeing it wrapped around my cock.”

  “Is that what you want me to do?”

  “No, not yet,” Dillon said with a trace of regret because the idea was an attractive one. No, today he wanted to pleasure Zane even though he was helpless. Dillon wanted to prove how good it could be giving over complete control to another, to him for example. He reached over to open the bedside drawer again and pulled out the brown glass bottle containing frankincense massage oil. It was no hardship touching his lover, and by the time he was finished, the male would be purring. He unscrewed the lid and poured some into his palm before setting the bottle aside where it wouldn’t spill. The spicy, woody scent rose as the oil warmed between his palms. Dillon started with Zane’s chest, kneading and massaging muscles, getting to know his body intimately. He glided his hands over Zane’s pectorals, his shoulders and gradually moved down his torso, interspacing touching with kissing. The genie relaxed beneath his careful ministrations and Dillon took great pleasure from touching the firm and fluid muscles, from nibbling and tasting. The slow massage worked its magic on him as well, blood crowding his cock as desire flared inside. Gradually, he took the massage into more personal territory. He dribbled more oil on his palm and spread Zane’s legs for easier access. He slid his hand over Zane’s inner thighs before stroking the perineum with firm fingers.

  A soft sound drew his attention and although he kept stroking, he saw Zane’s eyes close and with a few teasing strokes of his fingers, he’d managed to undo all the good he’d done. His lover was no longer relaxed. He ran his fingers over Zane’s testicles and scrotum and massaged the perineum again, smoothing fingers over his anus. Dillon moved closer and, giving in to temptation, he licked over and around the puckered entrance.

  “Oh hell,” his lover whispered, his hips jerking.

  Smiling, Dillon repeated the move and stroked the area below with confident steps of his fingers. Zane’s musky scent combined with the woody notes of the oil. Dillon’s heart pounded, his dick jerked and urgency started to beat at his mind. He smiled wryly, acknowledging the genie’s sensual torture was backfiring, catching him in the trap instead.

  Unable to wait any longer, he pushed a finger inside Zane, almost groaning out loud at the velvet heat and the sexy sight of his finger slowly disappearing. The thought of thrusting his cock inside brought an actual groan—low and guttural and full of need.

  “Dillon.”

  His head jerked upward, his eyes widening in panic. Surely Zane didn’t want to stop? He attempted to speak and had to clear his throat before a word emerged. “Yeah?” It was only slightly louder than a croak.

  “Fuck me now.” Zane’s eyes were so dark they appeared black rather than the normal blue.

  “But I haven’t stretched—”

  “Now,” the genie repeated. “Please.”

  He was so ready he ached but still… “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. Please. I’m begging you. Take me now, hard and fast.”

  Dillon removed his finger and after slicking up with plenty of lube, he pressed into Zane. His lover didn’t let him go slow, wouldn’t allow him to ease into lovemaking. Instead he jerked his hips, forcing Dillon’s cock deep inside. He writhed in the heat of his lover, heart pounding like a jackhammer. He gulped as Zane snapped his hips back and forth, watching the place where his cock disappeared into his body. Sparks of ardor sizzled the length of his spine, warning of his imminent climax. Dillon gripped Zane’s hips and thrust, taking up the genie’s rhythm. He angled his strokes and released one hip to grasp his lover’s straining erection. Zane hissed out a curse and Dillon knew exactly how he felt. One more pump and his orgasm thundered through him, so intense he felt it clear to his toes. He cried out, shivers racking his body as he continued to stroke his lover. Seconds later Zane came, splashing cum over his hand and torso, the contractions of his ass clamping down, sending another shiver through Dillon. When he finally relaxed, Dillon pulled free and collapsed at his side, still breathing hard.

  Zane turned his head and kissed his chin. When he moved, their lips met in a slow kiss that held a dreamy quality and wisps of promise. Dillon had already known he was in trouble, his feelings for the genie intense despite their short relationship. Sometimes, he thought, a person just knew.

  Zane drew away and smiled slowly. “Are you thinking about releasing me anytime soon? My arms are a bit sore from lying in the same position and I’d really like to pinch your butt.”

  “Yeah?” Dillon’s brows rose as he grinned back. “Not sure about the pinching. That’s a good reason to leave you where you are.” But he was already leaning over to grab the key to unlock the cuffs.

  “Well, hell,” Zane said. “I suppose I could always bite
instead.”

  “You think?” He made a token protest but it was difficult not to let his grin widen into a toothy smirk. When would the genie realize he could do whatever the hell he wanted? As far as he was concerned, Zane had full rights to do whatever he pleased.

  * * * * *

  With the speaker from Weta Studios as an inducement, the computer club meeting was standing room only. Dillon held the door open for several newcomers before they stepped into the packed room at the college.

  “Even the people with the virus rash have come out,” Zane murmured. Dillon’s gaze drifted over his lover’s freshly shaven head to meet his intense blue eyes. He still preferred the genie with dark curly hair covering his head but he was starting to become used to the disguise he’d adopted.

  “I think everyone has worked out that it’s not infectious,” Zane said with a quick grin. “Have you noticed there are more people wandering around town now?”

  “Yeah, I noticed when I went to the post office. The queue of people posting Christmas parcels was out the door.” He’d also noticed the merc-magick was still hanging around. The merc’s presence worried him because it brought home the fact that his lover was still in very real danger. With only a few days left to evade capture, Hasim could still find Zane and force him into servitude again. Immediately Dillon felt the need to touch, to exert ownership and reassure himself that everything would work out as they planned. Hell, he wanted everyone to know Zane belonged to him. Funny, it wasn’t just possessiveness roaring through him but the need to show he belonged to Zane as well. Before he had a chance to second guess, he reached out to squeeze his shoulder in a show of affection, letting his hand slide down Zane’s back to rest briefly on his ass before moving away. The touch soothed his edginess.

  “You okay?” Zane murmured.

  “I am now.”

  The genie winked at him and they both grinned. Dillon noted, now that he knew Zane better, he could see a few nerves below the surface. Not enough for anyone else to notice but understandable, given the circumstances. Suddenly Dillon didn’t care about catching the person who had unleashed a virus. All he wanted was to return home with Zane and spend the rest of the night making love and reassuring him. For an instant he thought about dragging him back outside for a quickie. They’d had sex outside at home but there was something added with the risk of discovery. Dillon snorted under his breath. Hell, he was sick. Part of him acknowledged he wanted people to discover their relationship. He was turning needy in his old age.

  “Looks like there are some spare seats over there.”

  “Lead the way,” Dillon murmured. Somehow it seemed natural to allow his lover complete freedom outside the bedroom. He didn’t have a problem with it. In fact, he enjoyed watching the genie’s pleasure in doing everyday things without magic. Zane made everything seem new and precious. With emotion running high, Dillon squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a few milliseconds before opening them again and following Zane through the crowds of chattering people. He had no idea how he was going to let the genie go when the time came.

  “Dillon.”

  He stopped when he heard his name, knowing Zane would save him a seat. He turned. The smile of greeting faded when he saw who wanted to talk to him. Matthew, his chief suspect, had a bad case of the virus rash. It was one of the more severe cases he’d seen and his suspicions rose.

  “Hi, Matthew. That’s a bad case of rash you have there.” An understatement. Bad didn’t begin to describe the oozing pus-filled sores on the young man’s face.

  “Yeah. The doctor said it would heal up gradually.”

  But not without a little genie help in a few days time. Dillon kept his face impassive while he waited for Matthew to get to the point.

  Matthew drew him out of the way of foot traffic to a spot where they could talk relatively undisturbed. The nervousness in the younger man’s face made Dillon curious.

  “You’re really not interested in Jenny, are you?”

  Jenny? This was about his girlfriend Jenny? “I told you before I wasn’t interested in your girlfriend.” It was difficult to keep the impatience from his voice.

  “I heard rumors that you’re gay and then I saw you touch him tonight, that guy you’re with. You love him,” Matthew said, watching him intensely.

  Shock seared through him on hearing the words. God, the kid was right. He’d fallen for Zane, which was the reason he was so worried and on edge. It was the reason he couldn’t keep his hands off the genie. And why he was constantly reassuring himself Zane was real, that he wasn’t dreaming. Aware Matthew was waiting for an answer, although he didn’t see it was any of the kid’s business who he did or didn’t love, he said, “It’s true I’m gay.” His gaze zapped to Zane and he studied him for a few quick seconds. Yep, it was true. Shaking his head, he turned back to Matthew.

  “Shit,” Matthew said, his shoulders slumping. Suddenly the kid seemed really young and uncertain. “I’ve done something really bad. I lost my temper. Jenny just made me so jealous I couldn’t see straight. She said I wasn’t a man. If she wanted a real man, she’d go with someone like you. Oh fuck. Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes glinting with moisture that looked suspiciously like tears.

  “Nothing’s so bad it can’t be fixed.” Dillon’s eyes narrowed on Matthew as his suspicions suddenly grew, and he knew deep in his gut what the kid was trying to say.

  “We sent a virus to your computer,” Matthew said quickly, as if he feared running out of courage. “It was my idea. I wanted to punish you for taking Jenny away from me. Man, I’m so sorry. Jenny— Oh hell. She’s a bitch,” he said. “I didn’t realize until today.”

  The head of the computer club walked up to the front of the room and clapped his hands for silence.

  “We can talk about it later,” Dillon said.

  Matthew’s nod held pure misery. “Okay. I’m really sorry. I’ll help you fix it, if you haven’t already.”

  “I’ll admit I was angry but I’ve managed to get my computer running again and have redone all the work I lost.”

  “Oh man. You lost work?” The kid’s shoulders drooped even more.

  Despite the circumstances and his initial anger, Dillon felt sorry for him. Matthew wasn’t the first man led astray by a woman and he doubted he would be the last. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Matthew slinked away, a picture of dejected misery.

  Dillon glanced over at Zane and saw he’d saved him a seat. He started to stride toward him but something, some instinct made him glance at the doorway before he went to join him. He froze for an instant, shocked to the core. That bloody merc-magick was here. Dillon threaded through the people standing, making his way to Zane while hoping the genie’s disguise stood up to scrutiny. He slipped into the empty seat with relief. Hopefully, his large frame would partially block him from sight should the merc-magick look in their direction.

  The speakers were both great, if the reactions of those sitting nearby were anything to judge by, but Dillon didn’t take in much. He was too busy worrying about the merc-magick’s presence, stressing about what it might mean. His gut jolted, underlining his unease. Not good. Not good at all.

  Question time started and several hands shot up, waiting for the club president to give them the go-ahead to address the guest speakers. Finally all the questions were answered and still the merc-magick stood at the back of the room, leaning against the wall in an attempt to look unobtrusive. People glanced at him anyway, their gazes skimming across his bulky shoulders, dressy jacket and tough-guy expression before hurriedly fixing their interest elsewhere.

  The president offered his effusive thanks before declaring the meeting over.

  With the audience applause still ringing in his ears, Dillon stood and stretched while unobtrusively tracking the movements of the merc-magick. He’d left his post by the door. Unease beat at him.

  “Let’s go.” He grabbed Zane’s forearm in an attempt to hurry the genie along. No time to su
garcoat the order.

  Zane’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his mouth tightening to a flat line. He jerked free before slowly standing.

  “We need to go.” He attempted reasonable but an order hovered inside the words.

  “You don’t own me. No one owns me.” Finally Zane’s nerves bubbled to the surface to conflict with his own.

  “I know that, dammit!” To Dillon’s consternation, most of the attendees had left the classroom while their little battle was taking place. The few people left were staring and he consciously lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t phrase myself very well. The merc-magick is here. I can’t see him anymore but he spent the entire time at the back of the classroom.”

  “He was probably bored with hanging around the café,” Zane said. “Besides, he didn’t see me. If he had, he’d have taken me into custody or at least frozen my magic.”

  “They can do that? Freeze your magic?”

  “Yeah, that’s how they catch us. The merc-magicks wear special amulets that they freeze us with until they can clip our genie bracelets back in place.”

  “We can talk about this on the way. I don’t like it. Why can’t they use the amulets at any time—just point them in all directions and see what happens?”

  “It’s not that easy. They must be within arm’s length and must also utter the genie oath. By saying the oath they exert control and impel me to answer any questions they care to ask.” His lover’s expression held both fear and loathing. “When the capture is at that stage, it’s too late. I must obey.” He spat the word as if it were a filthy curse.

  Dillon had to admit the notion of having to follow orders and being at the disposal of the people who summoned the genie from his teapot didn’t hold much appeal. He was too strong and liked his freedom, the will to do what he wished and exert control over the way his life panned out. “That won’t happen,” he said, giving in to the need to touch his lover. He squeezed Zane’s shoulder briefly before letting his hand drop back to his side. “Let’s go home. I could do with a drink. By the way, I had a chat with Matthew. He confessed. He sent me the virus because he thought I was after his girlfriend.”