These cuffs and the collar feel different against my flesh than the ones I bought for Elliot, so I’m guessing these are the ones Leo bought for him.
The hand returns to my hair, gently fisting at first, tentative, then growing stronger as he gauges my reaction.
“Look at me, boy.”
I shiver again and blink away tears. His eyes are dark, midnight, and full of lust. His erection presses against the front of his slacks, letting me know he’s not just acting.
Then again, we’re both so well-trained, who knows if it’s real or not?
He pulls my face against his bulge. “You know what to do.”
I reach up and slowly drag his zipper down, looking for any signal that he’s forcing himself to do this…and also looking for validation he’s all in.
The fist in my hair gently shakes my head. “Shut your brain off,boy.” There’s more genuine strength behind his words now. It’s not just rote regurgitation of his experiences on this side of the “slash.”
I unfasten his belt and slacks and fish his cock out of his boxers. He’s definitely hard, and unlike the other times I’ve gone down on him, this time it’s at his command and all forhim, not for me. I hold his gaze as I ease his foreskin back and flick my tongue around the head of his cock.
The way he sucks in a sharp breath makes my own cock twitch with interest. “That’s it, baby. You know what I want.”
It’s like Leo’s ghost stands there, looking over Elliot’s shoulder and whispering into his ear, and I don’t even care.
My soul feels parched and arid, and every burning look and responsive sound and perfect touch Elliot gives me feels like cool, quenching water.
Giving myself over to this totally, I go down on him, reveling in the way his thumb strokes my scalp.
“So good, baby. So damned good.”
After a few minutes of that, he pulls me off and to my feet with the hand in my hair. Not being unduly rough with me, but not gentle. After how I’ve seen him play with Leo, Elliot’s definitely toning it down on my behalf.
Then he turns me around and bends me forward over the edge of the bed. With the hand still in my hair he pins me down, and with the other lands several hard, stinging smacks against my ass cheeks, back and forth. Warmth from his body rolls through me every time my leg presses against him, the fabric of his slacks softly coarse against my flesh.
I shudder and try not to rub against the bed, but it feels sooo…
Damned…
Good.
He squeezes my ass cheeks, rubbing the sting in before he gives me another round of spanking. A pause, more soothing, and more spanking. I find myself happily backstroking through a sweetly comfortable pool of subspace, a state of being I’ve missed so fricking much.
By the time he finishes, I’m fisting the covers and my toes are curling again.
“Stay.”
I don’t even think about moving when he releases me.
The sound of him undressing hits my ear. I hear him remove Duck and set it aside. Then he’s back and wraps an arm around my waist and easily hauls me up, scoops me into his arms, and tosses me onto the bed.
I flip over and spot a playful gleam in his eyes that makes my pulse skip. I’m not afraid of him, not really. Although he could easily hurt or even kill me, if he wanted to. I know a few basic maneuvers Leo taught me, more for playing around and self-defense, but no way could I take Elliot like this. I could outrun him, but only if he’s not wearing his running blade.
He slowly stalks up onto the bed, hands and knees, and I know what he wants.
I want to give it to him, too.
When I try to dart to the other side of the bed, out of reach, he casually reaches out, snags me by the ankle, and hauls me back to him. He plays with me like this for a few minutes, a cat toying with a chameleon.
Predator and prey.
I’m reminded once again of his tiger versus Leo’s panther.
