Belonging (35 page)

“I’ve been thinking about cutting my
hair off,” he said. “Maybe you’d like me better with a more modern
look. What do you think?”

“What? You hair is so much a part of
you!”

“Yes, but doesn’t it make me look
hopelessly outdated? I don’t want to seem even older with that
pathetic clinging-to-my-glory-days thing that some men
do.”

“I think it makes you look sexy as
hell. It also makes you look like my Alexzander, so my vote would
be not to cut it. I’m not going to tell you what to do though,
because it’s your hair and you have to live with it.”

“Yours is the only vote that counts.
The only thing I care about is whether or not you like
it.”

“I love it. Normally, I’m not a fan of
long hair on men, but you’re the one and only exception. It’s
gorgeous on you.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said. “I
really don’t want to embarrass you.”

As he tilted his head back and rinsed
the suds from his hair, I told him, “It always surprises me when I
see that insecure side of you.”

“Why?”

“Well, because you used to perform in
front of thousands of people, which to me suggests a huge amount of
confidence.”

“Actually, many performers, myself
included, are incredibly insecure. That’s why we perform. We need
that constant praise and reassurance.”

“I never thought of it that way.” I
lathered my hands and began massaging his chest. “It actually seems
like a lot of performers are pretty full of themselves. I don’t
mean you, at all. I just mean in general.”

“But in many cases, the bigger the
ego, the more insecure the person behind it.”

I considered that and said, “Makes
sense, actually.”

Once I’d finished washing him, Zan
took over. He shampooed my hair before meticulously washing every
part of me. We were already more than a little aroused, so when he
started washing my cock I moaned softly. “Gianni,” he ventured,
then paused.

“What is it, Alexzander?”

He broke eye contact and asked
embarrassedly, “Do you think you might want to fuck me?”

“Do you want me to?”

Zan glanced at me and said,
“That wasn’t the question. I’ve always been pretty versatile, try
anything once and all that, so I’m fine with whatever. You
described yourself at one point as almost one hundred percent a
bottom, but I guess what I’m wondering about is that
almost
.”

I’d never really entertained the
notion of fucking Zan, but when I thought about it, my cock
throbbed and twitched against my belly. “I think it’d be fun to
try,” I admitted.

He pulled me into a kiss, and as we
became more and more worked up, I slid a soapy finger inside him,
which made him moan. After I worked him open for a while, he turned
and braced his arms against the wall of the shower. I soaped my
cock and pushed it into him, carefully. He drew in his breath
sharply, which made me start to pull back out, but he rasped,
“Don’t stop. Please Gianni, I want you in me.”

I pushed forward again. His warm,
tight little opening felt so incredibly good wrapped around my
cock. When I was about halfway in I began thrusting, gradually
picking up speed as he moaned again and began rocking back onto me.
Before long, I was bottoming out in him, my hips slapping into his
ass. I yelled when I came deep inside him, surprised by the force
of my orgasm. I kept thrusting hard as I shot again and again, my
fingers digging into his hips as I pulled him onto me.

I leaned against his back when I
finished, breathing heavily, and he turned his head and kissed me.
“You okay?” I asked. “Was I too rough?”

“That was perfect, love. Thank you.”
When I eased myself from him, he turned around and pulled me into
an embrace. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked. “I’d hate to think you
did it just to humor me.”

“It was great. Whenever I topped in
the past, it was just to please whoever I was with, but this time
felt different. I think that’s because you make me feel like a
partner, not just a possession.” I grinned a little and added
embarrassedly, “I will say though that I absolutely love belonging
to you.”

“I love belonging to you, too.” That
made me smile.

“Do you want your turn?” I asked,
massaging his cock.

“Absolutely, but let’s rest up
first.”

After we toweled off, I combed his
hair for him. It always took a while, but I liked doing it. As I
worked on it, I asked, “What made you want to do that
today?”

He thought about it for a while before
saying, “It’s hard to explain, really. But I suppose, just like we
were saying, I needed to feel like I belong to you today. I guess I
wanted the reassurance of it.”

After we finished up in the bathroom,
we returned to the big four-poster bed. It was early afternoon, the
light changing as shadows lengthened around the room. Zan murmured
as we snuggled and enjoyed the view, “This house is actually quite
nice, isn’t it?”

“It really is.”

“We’ve been so concerned about how I’d
do returning here, but I never asked how you feel about it. Do you
think you could be happy living here?”

“I do love this house,” I said. “But
really, I’m happy wherever you are.”

“Likewise, love. I’m realizing exactly
that. It feels okay to be here because you’re with me. That’s why
your gran’s house and that cabin felt okay, too. It’s because of
you. You’re home to me, Gianni.”

“That’s so incredibly
sweet.”

He grinned at me. “It’s hopelessly
sappy, but that’s me I suppose. I made a good living of it for
years you know, writing all those cheesy love songs.”

“They weren’t even sort of cheesy,
they were incredibly beautiful.”

Zan kissed my shoulder and said,
“Thank you for that. I have to say though, I was such a fraud. I
never knew what being in love really meant until you came along,
all I could do was imagine. I wrote those songs for an ideal lover
that I hoped to meet someday. Turns out, I was writing them all for
you.”

That made me smile. “I wish I’d seen
you in concert. I saw some footage of you performing in that
documentary, but I bet seeing you live was something to
behold.”

Zan grinned at that. “Maybe someday
you’ll have the chance.”

“You still thinking about going back
to it?”

“Yeah, I think about it every day. I
want to at least give it a try, on my terms, like we talked about.
I used to love it so much. It’d be amazing to find the joy in it
again.” He rolled onto his side and pulled me close. “It’s probably
not the time to be talking about those grandiose plans, however. I
have other things to cope with today.”

“You seem like you’re doing better
with all of that.”

“I figured out that I just need to
take this day hour by hour instead of worrying about every last
thing.” He smiled at me and said, “This hour has been
superb.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” I kissed him,
and as was often the case, a few light kisses evolved into
passionate ones, revving both of us up again. I stroked Zan’s hard
cock as I said softly, “Would you do something for me?”

“Of course, love.
Anything.”

“Will you please tie me up before you
fuck me? I know we’ve never gone there, but...I guess I just really
need that today, as long as you’re comfortable with it.”

“Does this have something to do with
what we did in the shower?”

I thought about it and said, “Maybe. I
loved fucking you, and I hope we do it again. What I need now,
though, is to know you’re in charge. Are you okay with
that?”

His hard cock jumped in my hand and he
told me, “That sounds incredibly erotic, actually.”

I grinned and said, “I’ll find us
something to use,” before rolling out of bed. I made a detour to
the bathroom and grabbed the lube out of my toiletry bag, then
hurried to the walk-in closet to find something to stand in for
rope. Apparently the closet was primarily used for storage, and I
looked around at the cardboard boxes for a few moments, chewing my
lip.

But then Zan called, “Come back, love.
I’ve got it sorted.”

When I returned to the bed, I saw what
he’d worked out and it made my cock throb. He’d thrown the blankets
onto a nearby chair and stacked a couple pillows in the center of
the bed, then removed the pillowcase from another one. He was
sitting back on his heels, tearing the case into long
strips.

I handed him the lube, then quickly
climbed onto the mattress and laid face down with the pillows under
my hips. Zan was careful as he bound my wrists and ankles, then
tied the bindings to each of the four posts at the corners of the
bed. He didn’t mess around though, tying me firmly in place, and I
murmured, “Mmmm,” as I rubbed my hard cock against the
pillows.

Once I was secured, Zan knelt between
my legs. Instead of fucking me right away, he spread my ass cheeks
and ran his tongue slowly up my crack. “Oh fuck yes,” I mumbled. He
repeated the long licks a couple more times before concentrating
them on my hole, lapping at me and pushing the tip of his tongue
inside me. I squirmed under him, whimpering a bit, desperate for
more.

Zan popped open the lube, and I felt a
cool drizzle of liquid running between my cheeks. He slid a finger
up and down my crack before pushing it all the way into me. I
bucked as he took his time fingering me and driving me wild, until
finally he mounted me with one long, hard push. I sighed with
pleasure.

He’d obviously gotten himself worked
up with all he’d been doing to me, because he started fucking me
wildly, slamming his cock into me with long, deep strokes. “Fuck
yes,” I ground out, using my knees for leverage as I tried to push
my butt up and drive myself onto him.

The sound of his body slapping my ass
and our moans and yells filled the quiet room. Zan wrapped his big
hands around my waist, pulling me onto him as he pounded me. All
rational thought fell away as I writhed beneath him.

I drove my hips into the pillows as I
came, and Zan kept fucking me hard for another minute until he shot
in me, yelling so loudly that it could probably be heard a mile
away. He rode me until he was spent, then rested for just a moment,
panting and shaking, his head between my shoulder blades. “Bloody
hell,” he managed as he caught his breath, “that was incredible.”
All I could do was nod as I tried to catch my breath,
too.

“We’re keeping this bed,” he said as
he sat up and went to work untying me. “I never liked what the
designer came up with for this place. What was he going for
exactly, modern lumberjack chic? But now I think he’s bloody
brilliant because he put this four-poster bed in here.”

As soon as I was untied, I tossed
aside the soggy pillows I’d been laying on and rolled onto my back.
Zan grabbed a couple other pillows that he’d thrown on the floor
and pulled the blanket back onto the bed. He made sure I was tucked
in and cradled me in his arms, then kissed both my wrists. They
were a little red from when I’d pulled on my bindings, but no worse
for wear. I grinned as I curled up against him and murmured, “I’m
so glad you enjoyed that.”

“Oh, I did,” he told me. “You looked
incredibly sexy all spread out for me like that. The really
astonishing part was how much trust it showed. Seeing you make
yourself utterly vulnerable like that was equal parts incredibly
touching and deeply erotic.” I rubbed my cheek against his
shoulder, feeling utterly content.

Chapter
Eighteen

“My God, you look
gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” I adjusted the cuffs on
my pearl grey suit as I said, “I might be overdressing. I have no
idea what Nana has in store for us tonight.”

He came up behind me and slid his
hands around my waist, then looked over my shoulder at our
reflection in the full-length mirror. “This leaves me in a bit of a
clothing conundrum. If I own a suit at all, it’s probably from
1988. I bet I wore it with a brightly colored t-shirt and loafers
with no socks. I’ll also bet my hair was exactly like it is now,
except maybe I puffed it up a bit.”

I chuckled at that. “Fortunately, you
didn’t rock the eighties big hair thing. I know because I’ve seen
pictures. Long, yes. Big, no. I bet you were cute in your Miami
Vice suit, though. I didn’t see any pictures of that.”

“For that I’m exceedingly grateful.
I’m sure I was an utter train wreck, as was most eighties fashion.
My overall point here, aside from inadvertently reminding you of
our prodigious age gap, is that I have absolutely no idea what to
wear tonight. Somehow I don’t think my usual Levis and worn out top
are going to cut it.”

“I can change into something more
casual,” I said. “I’m probably overdoing it anyway.”

“Don’t you dare, you look stunning.
I’m going to go rummage around in the archive, hopefully there’s
something in there that will pass muster.”

“The archive?”

“I have a habit of hanging on to most
of my clothes, especially things I’ve performed in.”