Authors: Violet Summers
Enough waiting. They were both too close to the edge to keep playing around. Rob dropped the sword, yanking at his fly with one hand and scrabbling for a condom with the other. He ripped the foil packet open with his teeth, then fumbled the condom into place using the lightest touch possible, too close to the edge to risk going off too soon.
Michael was rocking, cock swaying, raw, wanting noises coming from his throat. Rob grabbed the lube, which was waiting in a bowl of hot water, and hurriedly dumped some over his fingers.
Now. He worked one finger into Michael’s tight passage, moaning a little himself at the blistering heat.
“So tight, Mikey,” he whispered. “You’re gonna squeeze my dick off.”
Michael just grunted and pushed back, riding Rob’s finger.
That was Rob’s cue to add another finger, scissoring them apart, opening Michael up and getting him ready for Rob’s cock.
“Now, now, now.” Once again Rob’s thoughts were coming out in Michael’s words. No more waiting. He had to feel Michael around him
now
.
Wrapped up, lubed up and ready to go, Rob climbed back onto the table, knocking Michael’s thighs wide and making a place for himself. He was almost afraid to grab his dick and aim, he was so fucking close. Clenching pretty much everything capable of clenching, he set himself against Michael’s puckered opening, echoing the submissive’s moan as he wedged his way in, one torturous inch at a time.
“Yes.” It was a hiss, wrenched from his throat, echoed by Michael. “You are so fucking good, feel so good.”
*
Michael slammed back, needing to feel Rob so deep inside he could taste him in his throat. Rob’s fingers dug into his hips, dragging Michael back even harder, pounding into him again and again and again.
He could feel his ass, burning against the smooth skin of Rob’s hips, the rasp of vinyl dragging over tenderized flesh.
More.
It was the only thought in his head, the only desire in his soul. He was consumed with the need for more. More pain, more pleasure. More of Rob.
“Yeah, Mikey.” Rob was panting, each stroke of his cock strafing the bundle of nerves that had Michael keening out his pleasure.
“Don’t come,” his Master commanded. “Not yet.” Michael groaned, tightened again, trying to force the climax back with sheer willpower, and knowing he was failing miserably.
“Help me.” The words fell from his mouth unbidden, a desperate warning. Rob reached around, wrapped strong, smooth fingers around his dick and held the orgasm back with an iron grip.
“Rob,” he was whimpering, almost whining, caught in a loop of pleasure. Rob’s cock in his ass, stretching him into delicious, burning pleasure. Rob’s hand around his dick, reining him in. “Please.”
He wasn’t a beggar, wasn’t the sort of submissive who cried prettily to get his way. But Rob dragged it out of him, exposed the deepest secrets of his soul and left Michael yearning to belong to him utterly.
“Not yet,” Rob growled, pulling out with a movement both painfully rough and exquisitely perfect.
Michael all but screamed in denial, tried to ride back onto Rob’s dick, but there was no way to make contact. Rob had all the control, held him with a bruising grip on his hip and an irresistible hold on his cock.
“Flip,” Rob directed, loosening his grip on Michael’s dick to help urge him onto his back.
Rob was moving fast, arranging Michael, then positioning himself between Michael’s wide-spread thighs. And, oh. Oh. Rob rose above him, black vinyl pants hanging around his thighs, cock huge and hard and taunting him by staying just out of his reach. He was every Master Michael had ever served, every god he’d worshiped. He was Achilles, chest glistening with oil and speckled with tiny bits of hardened wax.
He closed his eyes in self-defense, unable to meet that blown-out, passion-black gaze. Rob wasn’t letting him get away with that, though. A quick smack to his cock had Michael curling up, desperate for more, for enough touch to get him off.
“Keep your eyes open,” Rob commanded, and Michael was helpless to refuse. So he watched Rob wedge his thighs under his own. He watched his Master lean in, sweeping one arm under Michael’s thigh and then planting his hand on the table by Michael’s hip, opening him up for Rob’s piercing gaze and his visibly throbbing dick. He watched Rob take himself in hand, squeeze tight, then set the swollen head against Michael’s clenching hole.
And he watched Rob sink balls-deep with one long, slow motion; the visual was almost as good as the sensation.
Rob held him, split wide, and just pounded away, each thrust harder, deeper than the last. The man, who’d been relatively quiet through the entire scene, was making noise now. Low grunts of effort, sibilant hisses of pleasure, rough growls of passion all washed over Michael like an irresistible tide.
Each thrust, each sound, each fucking second took Michael closer to orgasm, closer to a harder, sharper climax than he’d ever felt before
—
even with Rob.
“Soon, Mikey.” The words were a promise and a threat. A promise of pleasure beyond bearing, and the threat it would all come crashing to a halt.
“Please.” Michael had just enough brain function to wonder if he could articulate any other word. Please. Just, please.
Rob leaned in, all but rolling Michael onto his shoulders. Michael wrapped his free leg around his Master’s waist, lifted with his abs and rode Rob’s cock, wanting the man as delirious as he was.
Rob speared him hard, and Michael fell back, chest heaving as his head hit the table. He wanted to close his eyes, try to control the sensations, but his Master had said no, so Michael had no choice but to writhe, caught on his Master’s dick and drowning in his Master’s eyes.
“So pretty, Mikey.” Rob was moving hard, hips grinding in a quick and dirty swivel that had Michael’s eyes practically rolling back in his head. Then, fast as a snake striking, Rob’s lips were on his, tongue invading, teeth scraping.
Their first kiss.
It was fucking catastrophic.
Michael did scream, now. Screamed into Rob’s mouth and felt the larger man swallow the sound down. Bucked into his embrace, and felt Rob dig deeper still.
Release was like a freight train, bearing down on him, and Michael was helpless on the tracks, electrified by Rob’s body in his, paralyzed by Rob’s mouth on his own.
“Come, Mikey.” Rob’s voice was raw, but the edge of command was there, and Michael was shooting almost before Rob finished speaking, shooting high and hard and without a hand on his dick at all.
“Yeah,
eromenos
,” Rob grunted as Michael’s muscles locked, squeezing down until his Master could barely move. “Come all the fuck over my cock.” And Michael did, was.
“Shit!” The first spurt hit Michael’s chin, the next fell hot and wet across his chest. He lost track after that, because Rob was pounding his prostate, forcing spurt after spurt of cum to streak his chest. Then Rob was leaning in, licking the cum from his chin, sucking at his bottom lip before sliding his tongue to tangle with Michael’s, sharing the taste of Michael’s pleasure.
Thank God, Rob rode it out, kept the evil grind going until Michael was empty, drained dry. Then Rob went for his own pleasure, pounding with short, sharp thrusts that still felt so fucking good.
Less than half a dozen strokes later, Rob came, lips still grazing Michael’s, sharing breath and moans and the dizzying rush of ecstasy shooting from Rob’s dick to pulse in Michael’s still-spasming ass.
Rob shifted just enough to let Michael’s leg fall limp on the table, but kept him pinned. Their breaths were harsh, chests rubbing together erratically, legs tangled. Rob brushed another kiss over his lips, softer this time, but no less intense. Michael wanted to pull away, but he wanted to stay even more. Wanted Rob’s kiss, his touch. Wanted the tenderness that soothed all the raw nerves at the end of a scene.
His Master must have read his mind, because Rob was holding him, stroking his lips with a gentle tongue, pressing slow, wet kisses to his throat, bringing him down in the sweetest way possible.
Rob’s own breath was still harsh, still ragged, and Michael wondered for a moment who soothed the Dom.
*
Wrung out, exhausted and almost numb from their scene, Rob wondered if it had been a bad idea to let Michael shower alone. The submissive had said he needed a few minutes to regroup, but with each minute that passed, Rob was more convinced he never should have let the man out of his sight.
When Michael finally approached the bar, he looked every bit as used up as Rob felt. His eyes were red-rimmed and looked the tiniest bit swollen, which just made the blue pop even more than usual. His expressive face was sober, almost tentative as he propped himself gingerly on the bar stool next to Rob’s. Rob squashed the surge of smug possessiveness at the move. Clearly Michael was still feeling every inch of Rob’s dick.
“Hey.”
Michael cut him a glance, but didn’t return the greeting. For once he was behaving like a submissive toward Rob, eyes on the floor, body language deferential. Rob smiled a little bit, but the satisfaction was tempered with the uncertainty over where this thing between them would go next.
“Hey,” Michael answered eventually. His voice was as raw as his eyes, fucked out and rough from Rob’s use and his own screams. It was sexy as fuck, but more, it made Rob want to take care of him.
He reached up without thinking, laid his palm over Michael’s throat, curling his fingers around to give the illusion of a collar. Michael shuddered, then leaned into the touch until Rob knew the submissive was really feeling the restraint. Stroking the submissive’s jaw with his thumb, he turned to the bartender and ordered a cup of herbal tea. Michael didn’t respond, but the bartender smiled as she prepared the soothing beverage and slid it in front of Rob’s submissive.
*
“We need to talk.”
Michael supposed he should be grateful Rob had waited until he finished his tea to start the conversation. Holding the mug between his palms, Michael rotated it slowly on the bar. He didn’t know why it had come as such a surprise to him, the way Rob cared for him after their scene. He really hadn’t seen any sign Rob was a negligent Master. He supposed he was just stuck in a loop of their high school encounter, when Rob had run so fast Michael had practically heard a sonic boom.
“Do we have to?” He knew better than to ask, but the idea of discussing anything meaningful with Rob now, when he was stripped so bare and vulnerable just flat out terrified him.
“I think we do, Mikey.” And just damn him for using that low, steel-edged Master’s voice. “There’s something between us. Something powerful and electric, and it’s been there since we were kids.”
Michael shook his head, knowing it was true, but unwilling to admit it.
“You can lie to me, Michael, but don’t lie to yourself.” Rob cupped Michael’s jaw before laying his hand over Michael’s neck once more. Michael shuddered all over again; at the touch, at the feeling Rob owned him.
Rob owning him? The idea was terrifying.
“I ran away from you ten years ago,” Rob continued, fingers stroking Michael’s neck soothingly. “I was a kid, and I was confused about what I was feeling and afraid of what other people would say.” Rob leaned closer, resting his forehead against Michael’s temple, breathing his words directly into Michael’s ear.
“I have never for one minute stopped regretting it. I’ve wondered what might have happened if I hadn’t been such a coward.”
His breath tickled Michael’s ear, hot and damp.
“If you run now, Michael, we’ll both spend the
next
ten years wondering what we could have had.”
Michael squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. It would be far, far too easy for Rob to break him. Having his teenaged heart bruised was one thing. Having his submissive spirit broken was another thing entirely.
“We could build something amazing together, Michael.” It was like the devil whispering in his ear, offering him everything he’d ever wanted, and Michael was afraid to reach out and take it. His own cowardice infuriated him. He was a submissive, not coward. A submissive had to be the polar opposite of cowardly.
“How do I trust you?” They were the first real words he’d spoken and they rasped in his throat. “How do I know you’ll do what you say?”
Rob’s eyes lighted, green glinting even in the surreal lighting of the bar. Michael sighed. Clearly Rob knew he’d won.
“We’ll sign a contract, something that protects both of us.” Michael felt himself nod, felt Rob’s hand tighten on his throat, and caught his breath.
“We’ve both been afraid, Michael.” Rob’s voice vibrated against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Or maybe it was Rob’s words that affected him so strongly. “Alone we were afraid, for far too long. Now it’s time for us to be brave together.”
Together
. Michael had been alone for so long, alone even with the club Masters and subs. Alone even in contracted relationships. Rob was offering him a chance at something more
—
at being with someone on more than a physical level.
Rob slid off his barstool and urged Michael off his so they were standing face to face, chest to chest. The Dom reached up and cupped Michael’s face in his hands, resting his forehead against Michael’s.