Read Bound and Determined Online
Authors: Jane Davitt,Alexa Snow
making sharp gasps now with every quick, panting breath, but the deciding
factor was that Owen was too close to climaxing himself, just from this, to be
able to wait much longer. Too many months of just jerking off, too many
months of waiting to do this with Sterling.
Owen knelt up, one hand still wrapped around Sterling's cock until the
last moment. With quick, automatic movements, the action as familiar as
brushing his teeth, he rolled a condom over his erection and let a small pool of
lube drizzle from the bottle into his palm.
He slicked the outside of the condom with the lube, then used those same
wet fingers to open Sterling up, fingertips sliding wetly over the tight hole he'd
fucked so many times with his fingers and with dildos but never with his own
cock. Sterling moaned and relaxed—he'd been taught well—and even spread
his thighs wider as Owen pushed two fingers into him. There was little
resistance, though Sterling's ass clenched around him briefly, hungrily,
begging for more, and Owen had to breathe in slowly through his nose to keep
from just shoving himself into Sterling and fucking him fast and hard, to keep
from getting lost in Sterling.
The most important thing was that this was good for Sterling, that it left
him wanting more and more.
Owen curled his fingers slightly, rubbing against Sterling's prostate in the
way that made Sterling gasp and shiver like it always did.
“Open your eyes,” Owen told him as he slid his fingers free and shifted
position, the head of his cock poised for entrance, and Sterling did. He looked
dazed, desperate, but his eyes focused and met Owen's. “I won't do this until
you ask me. If it's not what you want, this is your chance to—”
“Please,” Sterling said breathlessly, not waiting for Owen to finish,
impatient, naughty boy that he was. “Owen, I want you to fuck me. Please,
please, please.” Sterling's hips lifted slightly; his breath was uneven, and his
pupils blown wide. “Please fuck me. I need you to, I need…”
“I know what you need,” Owen said and pushed inside him—an inch, no
more, Sterling's body so willing, so receptive. “See?” He rocked his hips back
and forth, gaining ground slowly, sweat breaking out on his back because God,
the tight heat enfolding him felt incredible and he wanted to drive deeper into
it, long, hard thrusts, claiming every part of Sterling as his.
“More,” Sterling said, and oh, that was close to a demand, and part of
Owen felt a brief, savage flash of satisfaction that Sterling was back even as he
punished impatience by pulling out almost all the way and giving Sterling a
stern look.
“I said I knew what you needed; I didn't say you'd get it for the asking, no
matter how prettily you beg.” He ran his hand over Sterling's chest, using the
brief pause as a way to calm himself and damp down desire intense enough to
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leave him shaken. The way he felt right now, this could be over in about thirty
seconds, and he'd never live that down. “Count to twenty for me, Sterling.
Slowly. Show me you can wait.”
The sound Sterling made was guttural, a grunted exhalation of impatience
and want, but it was followed by a more careful drawing of breath and the
slightest nod. “One. Two.” Sterling's voice was hoarse; his nostrils flared
between each spoken number, and Owen could feel him trembling.
“Seven. Eight.”
A shudder ran through Sterling, and he clenched down around Owen's
cock, making them both moan. Owen knew it hadn't been deliberate, so he said
nothing, but licked his lips and waited for Sterling to continue.
“Eleven. Twelve.”
Owen could feel a bead of sweat running down along the back of his
shoulder—it tickled and made him grit his teeth. Sterling's face was open,
trusting, as he finished counting.
“Nineteen,” Sterling said and swallowed. He kept the same pause between
the numbers as all the previous pauses, even though Owen could feel his heart
rate increasing in anticipation. “Oh God, Owen—twenty.”
“You never let me down,” Owen told him, already starting to move, and
wondered if it was what he'd said or what he'd done that put that startled,
grateful look in Sterling's eyes.
Sterling's hands were still gripping the headboard, and with each of
Owen's slow, careful thrusts, the muscles in his arms flexed and tightened.
“God. Owen, please don't stop. Please.”
“Tell me how it feels,” Owen told him, because they both needed the
distraction that words would provide. He drew back and pushed forward again,
Sterling's body hot around him.
“It's—good. It feels good. I can't—” Sterling shivered and bit his lip; Owen
lifted him, both hands at his hips, and slid inside at a slightly different angle,
making Sterling moan.
“You know how long I've been wanting to do this? Wanting to fuck you?”
Owen looked between them at Sterling's cock, half-hard where it lay on his
belly, and it gave a throb as if it could feel his eyes on it—at the same time,
Sterling's body clenched around him. “Wanting to know what it would be like to
have you around me, crying out for me, begging me for more?”
Sterling did cry out with Owen's next thrust. “Faster. Oh God, it's—I don't
think I can wait.”
Owen was getting to the point where he couldn't either, the need to
move
an itch he just had to scratch. He thumbed the head of Sterling's cock as his
hand worked it, teasing him to fully hard in just a short space of time, never
slowing the smooth, deep strokes. Sterling's head was rolling restlessly on the
pillow, the muscles in his arms corded, standing out sharply. Holding onto the
headboard for this long had to be a strain, but he didn't seem to care, and
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Owen didn't even consider telling him to release the bar. He would have liked
Sterling's hands on him, but not if it meant giving up this view of taut,
straining muscles.
“Move for me,” he said, the words harsh, raw, his vision shredding,
graying. God, he didn't want this to end, but he had to come, had to find that
release… He let go of Sterling's cock and gave Sterling's flank a single, stinging
slap, needing to hear the crisp, perfect sound of his hand on Sterling's ass.
“Come for me.”
Sterling managed a few awkward rolls of his hips before he let out a sound
that was very nearly a scream and came, body arching under Owen's as fluid
striped his chest and belly. It seemed the most intense release Owen had ever
witnessed, although to be fair it was only a moment later that his own orgasm
crashed over him—he jerked his cock into Sterling half a dozen times as the
pleasure rushed through him. It left him shaking, collapsed down on top of
Sterling with his breath panting hot against Sterling's chest.
He hadn't told Sterling he could let go of the headboard, but he felt a hand
on his hair, stroking it. Sterling didn't say anything, but his touch was so new
and familiar at the same time that Owen found himself closing his eyes.
It was a moment that he wished could have lasted longer, but the need to
ease out of Sterling led to an equally pressing need to clean them both up.
Lube was useful, but it got everywhere. Owen gave Sterling a kiss that was
hard to break, so difficult in fact that it turned into a series of kisses, and then
reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table.
“The romantic part,” he said wryly, tossing a handful of tissues at Sterling,
who was sprawled on his back, every muscle lax, his cock soft and damp
against his thigh. Owen looked his fill, locking the memory away. “Are you
okay?”
“Yeah.” Sterling pushed himself up onto his elbows and winced, then
mopped at his chest and stomach. “A little sore, but good.” He smiled, a
relaxed, happy smile; seeing it made Owen's heart do something funny in his
chest. “What time is it?”
“Too early,” Owen said. The sun wasn't even thinking about rising yet, and
even when it did, the day was forecast to be cold and windy. Christmas Day, he
remembered. “I don't think I've been up this early on Christmas morning since
I was about ten.” Belatedly it occurred to him that Sterling probably didn't
want to think about past Christmases right now, estranged from his family as
he was, but Sterling didn't seem to react at all, just rolled over to toss his
handful of tissues into the small trash barrel next to the bed.
“Well, we'll just have to go back to sleep for a few hours,” Sterling said. He
tugged at Owen's arm until Owen lay down beside him again, then burrowed in
close. “Merry Christmas,” he said, and Owen kissed Sterling's hair and
whispered, “Merry Christmas,” back to him.
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Chapter Thirteen
“Oh, shit, we're late!” from Owen woke Sterling from a heavy drowse. He'd
been half-awake for hours, dropping in and out of sleep, so comfortable with
Owen's arm around him that the thought of waking fully hadn't been even
slightly appealing.
Now, though, Owen was jumping out of bed and pulling back the covers,
leaving Sterling's bare body uncovered and reacting to the sudden chill with
many protests.
“Come on, you—get up. I was supposed to be at Jake and Gary's house an
hour ago. I have to call them and let them know I'm running late and that I'm
bringing a surprise guest along with me.” Owen gave Sterling a fond look, then
slapped his ass. “Up! Get into the shower and I'll join you in a minute.”
Without complaining out loud, Sterling dragged himself into the shower
and let the hot water run over his shoulders and back and (sore) ass, then
shampooed his hair. He was loitering, waiting for Owen to come in so he could
run hands over him and hopefully persuade him to be another hour late—not
that he'd be able to tolerate penetration again so soon; he was pretty sore, but
he'd gladly settle for a couple of blowjobs.
But when Owen came into the bathroom, all Sterling got was another
gentle slap on the ass and an, “Out with you! Go get dressed, then go down
and take the cheesecake out of the fridge, please.”
Getting dressed wasn't as difficult as it would have been, since Sterling
had started to keep some spare clothes at Owen's house just in case—his
suitcase was still out in his car, and the thought of going out into the cold with
wet hair was seriously unappealing. The dark blue cotton slacks and gray
sweater would do, he thought, looking at himself in the mirror over Owen's
chest of drawers, then heading quickly for the stairs when he heard the shower
being turned off in the bathroom.
The chocolate cheesecake looked delicious when Sterling eased the lid of
its container up and took a peek. It was topped with raspberries nestled in a
thick layer of chocolate shavings—dark, milk, and white—and there was
definitely an alcoholic ingredient in there somewhere.
Not really what he wanted for breakfast, though. Owen, bless him, had
started off a pot of coffee, so Sterling snagged a cup and let it put him back
together, his thoughts a tangle that he didn't really want to unravel.
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He wasn't thinking about what he'd normally be doing at this time of the
day; he knew. They'd be on their way back from visiting three sets of relatives
in town, Justine beyond hyper and on her fourth candy cane, the small
stocking stuffed with gifts that she'd been given at breakfast already a fading
memory. The big presents got handed out later, beside the tree, with his
parents sipping drinks and even his father looking halfway human.
He missed Justine and his mom. He loved Owen, but it felt weird to be
here with him instead of at home on a day like this.
“There are some muffins in the cabinet there,” Owen said, coming into the
room and interrupting Sterling's thoughts. “Grab a couple and we can eat them
in the car. The cheesecake's for dessert tonight—it's a tradition. Not cheesecake
specifically, but me bringing dessert. And wine, but that's in the car. It's white,
so I didn't think leaving it out overnight would hurt it at all—I would have
chilled it anyway.”
It was a relief to know that Owen didn't expect him to eat cheesecake for
breakfast. Sterling finished his coffee hastily and found the muffins, taking the
whole box with them just in case.
The car's tires crunched over the small amount of snow on the driveway—
the street was clear, the late morning sun having been working on it for several