Spencer licked his lips and nodded. “Sorry.”
Nick pushed against him again, and just like the first time, Spencer almost col apsed in on himself when the head of Nick’s cock passed the tight ring and was, finally, inside him.
He gripped the footboard tighter and curled his toes into the coarse carpet as Nick slid deeper, withdrew, slid even deeper.
His skin tingled all over, especially where the sparks of pain still lingered, and his lack of sight left him no choice but to focus a little on those burning embers, while the bulk of his awareness concentrated on Nick’s slow, slick strokes. Nick had barely touched his cock, had only just started fucking him, and Spencer swore he was already a breath away from letting go. This was an unknown, unexplored level of turned on, an intense need for release coupled with an insatiable craving for more, more, more, and Nick had barely gotten started.
Both of Nick’s hands were on Spencer’s hips now, fingertips digging into his flanks as he started picking up speed. And it was glorious, every movement just right, just perfect, and with the residual sting from the evil sticks echoing all over on his skin, Nick’s steady, strong, demanding presence, the way he was inside him and holding him by the hips—it all came together into one amazing whirlwind of sensation that matched his need perfectly, the fucking like a much-rehearsed movement; they just worked together like this, until even their breaths came in parallel.
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Spencer pushed back, wanted more, wanted to come, wanted to feel Nick at his worst and best. Ignoring the warning hiss, he pushed back harder, trying to get Nick to speed up.
Instead, the bastard stopped.
“You’re not in control,” Nick informed him. “It’s a privilege to have your hands free. Not to be gagged. If you don’t behave, I’ll tie you up like a Christmas turkey. Understood?” A vicious twist to a nipple made Spencer shudder and groan.
“Understood.”
“Good.” Nick’s hand moved from his nipple to his throat, dug in fingers and thumb, and what was it about that touch that made Spencer’s balls draw up? He felt Nick pulse inside him, and heard something like a small gasp. Nick’s hand pressed harder against his throat; it really hurt, because that fucker was strong.
Then, at the same time, Nick’s thrusts picked up again, short and brutal, and that combination set Spencer off like fireworks. His throat was pressed shut while he came, and he didn’t really have enough air to gasp, and he saw stars behind the blindfold while Nick kept fucking him hard.
He nearly buckled when Nick pulled out and stroked his back.“Well done,” Nick told him and took him by the elbow, guiding him around the bed and onto the mattress.
Nick vanished for a couple of minutes. When he returned, he settled near Spencer on the bed and pulled him against his chest. Still blindfolded. He smelled of coconut and pineapple and fresh sweat, which seemed a vast improvement on the regular pi?a colada recipe.
“Oh God,” Spencer breathed.
Nick ran his fingers over Spencer’s shoulder. “Hate to break it to you, but you are a masochist.”
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Spencer chuckled. “No shit.” Though it did seem weird to own that title, and if someone had told him in the middle of a normal Tuesday afternoon, he might have balked. But lying here with fading red points on his nerve endings, and his whole body still floating from the fucking evil sticks and the . . . well, the fucking? He couldn’t argue.
Those fine fingers stroked Spencer’s hair, and he pressed against them like a cat.
Nick laughed softly. “Kind of had a feeling you would be.”
“Oh yeah?” Spencer turned his head towards the sound of Nick’s voice. “What gave you that idea?”
“Well, I figured you must enjoy suffering if you hang out with the doucheweasel.”
Spencer snorted. “What? You know him?”
Nick made a soft, derisive sound, and Spencer could almost hear him rol ing his eyes. “Uh, yeah. And if you’re a friend of his, you must be a pain slut.”
“Oh, he’s not that bad.”
“You’ve obviously never tried to sell him your dick.”
“Uh, no. Can’t say I have.”
“Brings out the arsehole in a lot of people. Ironically.”
Spencer hesitated. “You deal with a lot of jerks in your line of work?”
“Well, they’re usually the ones in need of cock by the hour.” Nick shrugged, his shoulder brushing Spencer’s.
“Either because no one else will touch them, or because they can’t stay faithful to the ones who do.”
“Doesn’t sound like a great work environment. With people like that around.”
“Says the lawyer.” Nick wriggled beside him, maybe stretching out or otherwise getting comfortable, and continued stroking Spencer’s hair. “Only difference between 76
your work environment and mine is I can shove a ball gag—or anything, really—into someone’s mouth if he won’t shut up.
And fuck him up the arse. Which sort of makes it easier to put up with their bullshit, you know?”
“Does it?”