Spencer shook his head. “No. Not . . . not until . . . oh, fuck . . .”
Nick picked up more speed. “Not until what, Spencer?”
“Until you said so,” Spencer blurted out. “I wouldn’t come. Not until you said so.”
“Good.” Nick pumped faster. “I’m going to let you come very soon.”
Spencer whimpered again, thrusting into Nick’s hand.
“Not yet, though. Not quite yet.”
“Fuck . . .”
Nick laughed softly, making sure it sounded as sadistic and maniacal as possible. Spencer made more frustrated sounds, and squirmed, and rattled the cuffs against the bedframe.
“Listen to me, Spencer,” Nick said, lowering his voice so Spencer would have to strain to hear him. “In a minute, I’m going to let you come. And after you’ve come, I’m going to release your hands.”
“Okay,” Spencer breathed.
“And once I’ve done that,” Nick said, stroking fast and hard now just to fuck with Spencer’s concentration, “you’re going to get on your knees on the floor and suck me off.”
“Yes, please,” Spencer whispered, his voice shaking like he was on the verge of tears. “Please, Nick . . .”
“I’m going to count backwards. From five.” He added a subtle twist to his movements, gritting his teeth as fatigue started to burn its way into his forearm. “When I reach one, you can come. Understood?”
Spencer nodded. “Understood.”
Nick let the silence linger. He kept stroking, but didn’t say anything. Didn’t start the countdown.
Sweat beaded on Spencer’s forehead, and a few drops slid down his temples and his neck. The cords stood out from his throat, and his lips were pulled tight across his teeth. His abs shook, and his arms strained against their cuffs, and Nick was sure he was holding his breath.
Then Nick leaned a little closer to him and whispered, “Five.”
A little tension released, but that was just Spencer thinking he was on safe ground. Nick wished he’d put something up Spencer’s arse, a vibrating egg or something, to torture him more thoroughly, coordinate the stimulation of his cock and his prostate, but that would have to wait. First real attempt at orgasm denial, and Spencer was falling into it beautifully, obeying the rules, deeply susceptible to the orders and his own need. The man would rather explode than come unless ordered.
Nick kept Spencer on the edge right there, pumped, but didn’t tease the head—letting Spencer think he’d discovered a merciful bone in his body. “Four.”
Spencer swallowed and nodded, lips forming that word like an echo. “Four.”
Nick bent down over Spencer’s cock, then ran his tongue along the head. Spencer made a sound somewhere between a shout and an agonized protest. Nick bared his teeth. “What was that? Not happy?”
“Oh God, Nick. You’re . . . you’re . . .”
Nick did it again, just to drive home the point. Spencer’s leg muscle tensed. The man was this close to losing it. Excellent.
“I’m . . .?” He whispered against the wet cockhead, breath brushing over it.
“You’re . . . killing me.”
“Three,” Nick responded and continued stroking, tight oiled fist now brushing over the cock head, squeezing, which made Spencer tense head to toe, very nearly lifting him off the mattress. There was just enough pain in the touch to help Spencer regain a little control; a small mercy before Spencer did have a heart attack in bed. Of course, it knitted the pain and pleasure closer together in Spencer’s brain, too. “You with me, Spencer?”
“Yes. Never . . . never gone.”
Flying high. Spencer was happy in his subspace—second nature for the guy. The door was always wide open, and Spencer stepped through with an ease and a grace that was mind-blowing all of its own.
“Two.”
Spencer sucked in a deep breath. His fists were tight now, the chain between the cuffs pulled taut, and Nick swore the air itself thrummed with the tension radiating from every muscle in Spencer’s body. He was waiting, waiting, anticipating, no doubt knowing that final word, that last number, was as far off as Nick wanted it to be, and he might be hanging like this all damned night if Nick wanted him to.
“One.”
Spencer came. Instantly. Like that single word had been the knife waiting to cut the tightly drawn rope, and now it had snapped, and his whole body lifted off the bed as jets of semen dotted the dark skin across his abs and chest.
As soon as Spencer started to settle back onto the bed—and likely back into the present—Nick slowed his hand to a smooth stop. He released Spencer’s dick, and Spencer sighed. All the tension was gone now, every muscle trembling with the aftermath.
Nick grabbed some tissues from the bedside table and cleaned off his hand. Then he took a few more and wiped the semen off Spencer’s skin. About that time, Spencer blinked a few times, and then looked at Nick.
Nick discarded the tissues and reached for the handcuffs. “You remember what to do next, don’t you, Spencer?”