Falling Bundle (3 page)

“I do not.” Arjen reddened. Max loved that. His fair skin showed every moment of embarrassment.

“You do. When I remind you that I’m bigger than you, stronger than you, you get off on it.” Max took a gentle grip on the back of his neck; Arjen caught his breath, his eyes darkening. “See? You like that, right?”

“I don’t…” Arjen shifted under his grip, not quite pulling away.

“This is what I’m good at. People tell themselves all sorts of bullshit about what they like, what kind of person they are. I cut through all that because I recognise what people really want. What they need. I see straight to their dark secrets, their kinky fantasies.” Max stroked his thigh gently, still holding him by the back of the neck, reached further to cup the front of his trousers. Arjen made a small stifled sound. Max kept stroking, coaxing, leaning in to murmur in his ear. “You’re safe with me, sweetling. I’ll be gentle with you. Just let me give you what you need.”

Arjen leaned his head against Max’s shoulder. It was a simple gesture of trust that had Max hardening painfully in his trousers. “I want…”

“I know. You want to suck me off.” He kept up his slow stroking. “You want to touch me. Taste me. Suck me.” He whispered the last against Arjen’s ear, nipped his earlobe, making Arjen shudder. “First time I saw you I wanted you on your knees. Pleasing me. I want you to enjoy it. I’d like you to come for me with my cock in your mouth. Think you can do that?”

Arjen leaned into him without resistance. Max wanted very badly to fuck him, but part of him wanted equally intensely to stay right here holding him. Protecting him.

Stupid thought. Max was only here to fuck him, nothing more.

He took Arjen by the elbow and urged him to his feet. “Come on, sweetling. Let me teach you.”

He kept his grip on Arjen’s elbow as he led Arjen into the empty office. He knew his touch was the only thing anchoring Arjen; if he let go, Arjen might panic. He pushed Arjen gently into the room ahead of him. Closed the door. Arjen was taking shaky breaths, on the edge of panic.

Max put a hand on his shoulder and pushed down. Arjen resisted for a moment, then when Max said, “Arjen,” it seemed to remind him of his desire to obey and he sank to his knees. The sight of Arjen on his knees in front of him, looking up at him half in fear, half in desire, pushed Max’s control to the limit; his hands fisted as he fought down the urge to just grab Arjen and force deep into his mouth. Breathe. He needed to take this slowly. He wanted Arjen to be as utterly abandoned in his pleasure as he had been when Max had teased him with that fingertip.

He slid his fingers into Arjen’s hair and took a firm grip. “You’re going to be good for me. Aren’t you?” He gave Arjen a gentle shake. “Talk to me, Arjen.”

“I’ll be good,” Arjen said, his voice unsteady.

“You keep your hands in your lap. You don’t push me away. You don’t touch yourself until I let you.”

“Okay.”

“That’s my sweetheart.” Max pushed Arjen’s face into his crotch. Arjen tensed at first, but Max rubbed deliberately against his face, pressing his hardness against his mouth. Arjen shut his eyes with a whimper. “Is this the first time you’ve been up close with a man’s cock? You need to get used to it, because you’ll be doing this for me again. Often.” Max opened his belt with his free hand. Dragged down the zip. Arjen shut his eyes tighter, afraid to cross this final threshold. “Look at it, sweetling. Look at it.” Max tugged on his hair, not to hurt him, just to startle him.

Those dark eyes opened wide and Arjen stared at Max’s cock for the first time. The look on his face was delicious, hunger and fear at the same time. He was drinking it in, the sight of it, the scent, the size. Max was under no illusions—he was dauntingly big. Arjen swallowed hard; Max could practically see him imagining it, what it would feel like in his mouth. What it would taste like.

That was enough time to think. Max didn’t want him talking himself out of it. Max pushed his face back into his crotch, fingers tight in his hair, stifling his half-hearted attempt to pull away. Arjen was panting, hot and fast. His hands were fisted obediently in his lap.

Max ran the hot tip of his cock delicately along Arjen’s lower lip, painting it with salty precome. Arjen’s tongue darted out, a quick flicker taking in the taste. It must be the first time he’d ever tasted a man’s fluids. The thought was so fierce, so possessive that Max’s balls tightened as Max fought the urge to push into his mouth and spill himself onto his tongue. He barely managed to restrain himself. Jesus, he was so hard it hurt. He stroked himself a few times to take the fierce edge off his need. “How’s that?” Max murmured, keeping Arjen’s face pressed into his crotch. “Good?”

Arjen made a low sound, his eyes still shut. Beyond speech. Max needed to be very gentle with him.

“Touch yourself, but don’t come until I tell you to.”

Arjen pushed a hand into his trousers and groaned aloud. Max pressed the tip against his mouth. “Lick it.”

Arjen was breathing very fast, almost hyperventilating as he stroked himself frantically, but his tongue darted out to find the tip of Max’s cock.

Jesus. If he kept doing that Max wasn’t going to last a second. “Good. That’s good.” Max made himself stay in control, fighting his racing heart and the urge to shove into his mouth. “More.”

Arjen licked him again, a long swipe of his tongue, then kept licking him. He was getting into it, making these sweet sounds of hunger as he explored, taking in the heat of it, the taste, the pulse. He was licking eagerly now, so Max slid just an inch into his mouth and Arjen took him in easily, pulling against his grip to take more of him. Max clenched his jaw as he fought the need to climax right then and there. Slowly. Slowly. Max growled, “Good,” as he slid deeper, “good, that’s so fucking good.” The note in his voice was raw and possessive.

It was a fierce kind of pleasure to push into Arjen’s mouth, still keeping a tight grip on his hair. He was the first man ever to be buried deep in his mouth. It felt fucking fantastic.

“You like this, don’t you. You like it all.” He started a steady rhythm, sliding in and out, in and out. Arjen made a choked sound of desperation; he must be very close to the edge. “Look at you jerking yourself off. You’re going to finish early, aren’t you. Well, you can’t. You can come when I do and not before.” In and out, in and out. Arjen was so dazed, so compliant, letting Max fuck his mouth as he touched himself. “Feels good, doesn’t it? The loss of control. Letting me do what I want with you. I can do this for you every night, sweetling.” Max’s breath was coming ragged as he started to lose his own control. He tightened his grip and started to thrust harder. “You want me to come in your mouth. You want to taste me. I know you do. Keep sucking—I’ll—”

His climax hit him like an avalanche. Everything else whited out; the force of it swept him away. Arjen came helplessly, his cry strangled as he shuddered, as Max spilled himself triumphantly into his mouth.

Arjen choked at first, but Max’s grip tightened reflexively and Arjen swallowed as Max poured hot come down his throat. Max kept him there until the last pulses of his climax had ended and Arjen had swallowed every last drop.

Finally he eased out. Arjen seemed shaken; Max would have guessed that nobody had ever gotten Arjen off so hard. He tugged Arjen to his feet and wrapped him up in his arms.

He told himself it was just good business. These experiences were clearly very intense for Arjen, and the better Max looked after him, the more likely Arjen was to come back for more. Nothing to do with his own feelings. Nothing at all. Max had never gotten emotionally involved in his entire life; he was not going to start now.

“Well done,” Max purred once he judged he’d given Arjen enough time to recover. “You were very good. Was that as good as you fantasised about?”

“Mm.” Arjen gave a contented sigh, and snuggled deeper into his arms.

This was only about getting Arjen into his bed. Nothing else. He kept telling himself that. “Soon,” Max murmured into his ear, taking him by the chin so he couldn’t hide his face in Max’s shoulder, “I’m going to fuck you.” Arjen tried to turn his face away; Max wouldn’t let him. “I’m going to take you home and put you in my bed where you belong. I’ll take my time with you. I’ll get you good and ready for me. Then I’ll push inside you and I’ll make you come so hard you can’t even scream. The whole time you’ll be begging and carrying on, and I just. Won’t. Stop.”

Arjen shuddered against him, caught in the intensity of their shared desire. It was going to be so good.

“Here’s my address and phone number.” Max slid a scrap of paper into Arjen’s back pocket. “Come to me when you’re ready.”

He left Arjen there alone, speechless, the silence broken only by the distant thumping bass.

Like any hunter, Max knew that sometimes the best tactic was to wait. Sometimes the harder he chased people, the more they fled. It was more satisfying when they came to him of their own free will. And Max was very eagerly anticipating the day Arjen came to him.

So Max waited. The days dragged by in their usual numbing routine. Work. Home. Work. Home. Night after night spent in a cold bed. Always thinking about the moment Arjen would finally crack. Max had planned his fantasy down to the smallest detail—how desperate Arjen would be for him, how Arjen would beg him to finally take him. He dreamed about it idly at work in the gaps between customers; he plotted it out obsessively in the silence of his flat.

Arjen would come soon. Any minute now.

Arjen never came.

In the end, Max went back to the bar where they had first met. It gleamed dark after the rains; the windows flickered with vivid colours. When he opened the door smoke curled around him.

Max strode inside like before, like he owned the place, like nothing had changed. But as the crowds surged around him and the music crashed over him in a wave, none of it worked for him any more. His anger crackled inside him; he shrugged off reaching hands, ignored people trying to talk to him. He slammed down a tequila thinking it might help his mood, but it didn’t.

He could pick up somebody else. Fuck them and forget them, get Arjen out of his system. But the simple fact was that he didn’t want to. He craved Arjen with a single-minded obsession. Arjen was maddening. Elusive. Not here.

Max stared at his empty glass on the bar, and wondered what this hollow feeling was. Why there seemed to be a gap inside him.

And still Arjen never came.

Max drank and waited, drank and waited, tantalising himself with the thought of Arjen showing up. He was halfway through a detailed fantasy of what he was going to do to Arjen, including teaching him to come when he was damn well told, when the bartender kicked him out at closing time.

Outside the rain was falling again, steadily, endlessly. It veiled the million lights of the city far below. Max seethed, hot and fizzing, wanting someone to take it out on. Looking for a fight, looking for a fuck. But there was no point. Because Arjen wasn’t here.

He stalked home to his empty flat.

At home, he dug out a half-empty bottle of whiskey. It was beginning to occur to him that Arjen genuinely wasn’t coming. At all. It had been a week since they parted. A week since he had slipped that scrap of paper with his address and phone number into Arjen’s back pocket. He could have sworn that Arjen wouldn’t make it twenty-four hours without calling. He would have been wrong.

Arjen wasn’t coming. End of story.

A slow-burning anger kindled inside him. His jaw clenched, his fist tightening on the bottle. He was not letting Arjen get away with walking out on him without a word.

He was going back on the hunt.

When Max sobered up the next morning, his day off, he realised he had no idea where Arjen lived. In fact, all he knew was that Arjen was a trainee solicitor. Thankfully Max was not half as stupid as he liked to pretend, so he just googled Arjen’s full name and immediately got a hit from his law firm. Max looked up the firm’s address and went there.

It was a crisp day. One or two red leaves sailed down from a line of oaks to dust a shining office block. Max waited at the cafe across the street, sipping some expensive coffee with a fancy name. His world had narrowed down into the driving need to see Arjen again. It infuriated him that Arjen had rejected him—nobody did that. And the lack of explanation was making him crazy. He lay in wait all afternoon, keeping himself warm with fantasies, until the door cracked open and Arjen came out.

The sight of him made Max take a breath, a sudden surge of heat flooding him. Arjen looked sharply professional in his suit, dark-haired and dark-eyed, cool and untouchable. Nobody would know to look at him that a week ago he’d been on his knees going down on Max.

Max’s fist clenched on the fragile cup and he had to put it down with an effort before it broke. He wanted to slam Arjen down on this flimsy table and fuck him. But he had to stay calm. This was a public place.

He trailed Arjen toward his car. As Arjen passed, a knot of men in the street turned to watch him. They showed the same sudden interest that Max must have done the first time he’d laid eyes on Arjen.

Max’s anger kicked off again. Max took several deep breaths and strangled the urge to intervene right now, scare them away and recapture Arjen for himself. He could fuck Arjen up against the wall, prove to everyone with each thrust that he owned him. That need pulsed hot in his blood, his hands curling into fists, his jeans suddenly too tight.

When Arjen reached his car Max seized his chance. He strode toward Arjen, caught him by a fistful of his shirt and shoved him into the wall. Arjen froze, his hands up to ward Max off. “Max?”

“Me,” Max growled, and shoved him harder. “Where have you been?”

Arjen’s eyes narrowed. He tried to twist free; Max wound his hand tighter in Arjen’s shirt. “Let go of me.”

“Not fucking likely. You were supposed to come to me.”

“I didn’t want to,” Arjen said, aiming each word deliberately. “Face it, Max. I’m just not that into you.”

“That’s a fucking lie!” Max slammed him into the wall again, then choked off his fury before it got out of control. “You are such a coward, Arjen. You want me so badly. You’re desperate for me to fuck you. You probably think about me when you jerk off.” Arjen started, then his face flooded with colour, letting Max know that he’d scored a hit. “You’re just too damn scared to admit it. You think if you keep pretending you’re straight, people will actually believe you. You’ll be able to keep living the same lie forever. And nobody will ever see the real you. Like I do.” Max shook him. “Admit it. You want me.”

“I do not.” Arjen was tense with defensiveness.

“You know what? I think it’s what happened last time that made you snap. Going down on me. Liking it. I think you can’t face the thought that you get off on sucking another man’s cock. It’s the fucking truth, Arjen, so man up about it. You like cock. Specifically, mine.”

“That’s not—”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Max snarled, and kissed him.

That single kiss ignited a heat that seared through him right down to his fingertips. It was so intense that his hands fisted in Arjen’s shirt as he captured his mouth with a fierce hunger. Arjen gasped against him; Max could feel his chest hitch against his. Max pinned him against the wall, wanting him to feel how hard Max was, to know exactly what he did to Max. Arjen made a small sound of desperation and clutched at Max to drag him closer, his mouth opening, his arms winding around Max’s neck as he stretched up to press tighter. Max could not get enough of him; he felt like he was dying and Arjen was air. He would never get enough of this.

Max broke the kiss. Stepped back. Nearly staggered. He felt shaken to his foundations. It was unfair and inexplicable that Arjen did this to him; he could not understand why he craved Arjen with every fibre of his being.

Arjen leaned back into the wall, clutching it for balance. He was breathing in quick gasps.

“Tell me again,” said Max in an uneven voice, “that you don’t want me.”

Arjen couldn’t speak. He was staring up at Max, his eyes very dark, the picture of temptation.

Max pointed at him and made it an order. “You will call me. And when you’re ready, you will beg me to fuck you.”

The next day Arjen called him at home after work.

“Hey.” Arjen sounded shaky. Probably nerves.

This was a fascinating development. Arjen had never called before; he’d never made the first move. And he was doing it only a day after Max had slammed him into the nearest wall and kissed him senseless. Maybe he liked it rough.

Damn. Max was getting as hard as he must be. “Hi there,” Max purred. It must be new and scary for him to call, and Max intended to thoroughly reward him. “What can I do for you?”

“I was thinking,” Arjen said, and swallowed. “Maybe we could get together.”

He made it sound so innocent. Like they were getting coffee or something. “Yes, we should.”

“Great.” Arjen sounded relieved.

He was getting off way too easily here. He’d only asked to meet up, so whatever Max did to him, however badly he wanted it, he could tell himself it was all Max’s fault. “We should meet at your house.” Max kept his voice low, persuasive. “Cate’s at work, right? That way nobody will disturb us. Nobody will see. You’d like that, wouldn’t you. Being alone with me.” The little hitch in Arjen’s breathing told Max all he needed to know. “Picture it. Go on. I’m on your doorstep. And when I’m right in front of you… what happens next?”

“I don’t know.” Small voice.

“Nothing happens? I’m not coming over for nothing. What do I do?”

“You…” Arjen was starting to sound a little ragged. Max pushed a hand into his jeans and stroked himself, getting comfortable, enjoying this fantasy. “You kiss me.”

Cute. Arjen clearly liked it when Max kissed him. “And then…”

“You—you make me kneel.”

That raised Max’s eyebrows. Max hadn’t thought he’d admit to fantasising about that. “So you’re on your knees,” Max murmured. “Small. Helpless. I’m towering over you. And I…?”

“You put it in my mouth.”

“My cock. Say it.”

“Your cock. In my mouth.” Arjen was panting, probably jerking off.

“I put my cock in your mouth. I make you suck me off. And I make you swallow me. Every last drop. Do you enjoy it? Do you come?”

“Yes.” It was just a whisper.

Wow. Max had been right on the money when he’d suggested that Arjen had really liked sucking him off. No wonder Arjen was so scared. “Good,” Max praised. “That’s good. I’ll be right over. Keep touching yourself. I want you ready for me.”

Armed with Arjen’s address, it took only ten minutes to drive over. He spent the drive simmering in anticipation, thinking of everything he might be able to tempt Arjen into. He had every intention of leaving Arjen completely blissed out of his mind.

It struck him as he pulled up what a picture-postcard neighbourhood Arjen lived in. All the houses gleamed with fresh white paintwork, the lawns cut. Across the street was a little park where children played in the sunshine. Nobody had any idea what he was here to do to Arjen.

When he knocked on the door Arjen answered immediately, flushed with colour, like he’d been waiting on tenterhooks. Max caught him by the shirt and dragged him into a kiss; Arjen froze against him, making a token protest at being kissed in public on his own doorstep, a protest Max was only too happy to drive out of his mind. Max teased his lower lip with a light scrape of his teeth, and Arjen melted into him with a moan.

Max kissed him until Arjen was pressed up tight against him, willing in his arms. Then he smoothed a hand down the curve of his spine to cup his ass. Arjen seemed to like that, rubbing up against him, so Max squeezed and stroked his ass as much as he liked, enjoying the firm muscle beneath his palm. He was going to fuck this man very soon.

“Feeling better?” Max murmured to him. He loved how eager Arjen was for him, pressing into him, his breathing ragged. It made Max feel a little better about how badly he wanted this man.

Arjen looked down, dark lashes brushing flushed cheeks. “Please.”

“Please what?” He squeezed a little harder.

“Let me…” Arjen was only half coherent from being so thoroughly kissed. “Let me taste you.”

Max smiled. He was going to enjoy this.

He pushed Arjen back into the house and stepped inside. Hallway painted in neutral colours, carpet in a neutral shade. The mirror at the opposite end blazed with reflected daylight. When he kicked the door shut behind him the hall dimmed; he crowded Arjen deliberately. “Undress.”

Arjen’s eyes were wide and dark. “I don’t…”

Max ripped off his shirt, pushed him into the wall and trapped him there with his body. Arjen was so hot it was scorching, trembling under him, utterly irresistible. Max reached between them to open his belt buckle, fumble with his trousers, shove everything down; the sight of the pale thighs he wanted so badly to spread sharpened his need to an unbearable edge. His cock throbbed in his tightening jeans.

Arjen panted in his arms. “Max, I don’t know, I don’t think—”

Max gripped him by the upper arms, enjoying the muscle there. “You’re safe, sweetling. I won’t do anything that you don’t want. But while I’m here, I’m going to blow your fucking mind.” He leaned in and ground against him, making him feel every inch of his cock, still trapped in his jeans. Arjen’s quickening breaths betrayed his excitement.

Max lifted him against the wall with casual ease, ignoring his yelp, slid between his legs to press intimately against him. “Max,” Arjen said, a half-hearted protest, but from the way he was clutching at him Max suspected he liked having Max between his legs.

Max found that racing pulse with his mouth, licked it, bit down. “I want to fuck you so fucking hard you can’t walk for a week.”

Arjen gasped as Max bit down harder, and tilted his head away to offer his throat. Max turned his face into his tempting throat and growled as he fought for control. It would be so easy to just take him now. “Where’s your bedroom?”