If It Fornicates (A Market Garden Tale) Page 10

  Two large canvas prints that Nick loved filled up some of the white walls. One was a close-up shot of metal chains, filling every square inch of the canvas, adding dark and grey and silvery accents to the flat that was mostly wood surfaces and white. The other was more explicit—a bent, muscular back, barely visible in the gloom, an arty shot of strength and obedience, and in a certain light, Nick could easily imagine bruises or bloody gashes on the surface.

  Spencer looked at it, studied it for a full minute, then looked back at Nick. “It’s very you.”

  Nick winked. “Actually, it’s very you, but I’ll let that stand.”

  Spencer indicated the bed. “May I?”

  Right. He didn’t actually have any extra chairs, because he really only slept and studied here. And Spencer sitting down on his bed seemed crazy, somehow, really fucking intimate—his territory, his personal space, his private life, and Spencer right in the middle of it. The most shocking thing was that it didn’t freak him out. It was also hot as hell. It always took extra effort to dominate somebody in their own space, but in his own? Well, this could practically be his dungeon. Everything here was Nick’s. Including Spencer.

  Nick cleared his throat. “Have a seat.”

  As Spencer sat on the edge of the bed, the toy bag in the wardrobe was forgotten for the moment. It was hard to think of anything now besides the fact that Spencer was here in Nick’s flat. On his turf. Looking up at him from the edge of Nick’s bed, eyes full of You’re in charge and Whatever you say, I’ll do.

  Nick approached Spencer slowly. There wasn’t a lot of room, so he made every step count, holding Spencer’s gaze. He stopped with maybe half an inch separating his leg from Spencer’s, and reached down to touch Spencer’s face. He trailed a fingertip along the underside of his jaw, pausing beneath his chin. Then he pressed upwards, tilting Spencer’s head back so he was really looking up at him now.

  “I can’t even remember the last time I fucked someone here.”

  Spencer gasped. The full-body shiver reverberated through Nick’s fingers.

  “Would you like that, Spencer?” he whispered. “To be fucked here? In my flat?” He narrowed his eyes a little. “In my bed?”

  Spencer licked his lips, then nodded as much as the fingers under his chin would allow. “I would. Yes.”

  Nick drew his hand back. “Strip.”

  Spencer’s hands flew to the top button of his shirt, but he paused. “May I . . . stand?”

  Nick nodded. He stepped back to give Spencer more room. His mouth watered as he watched Spencer remove one layer after another. Spencer’s hands were steady, but quick; he knew better than to dawdle, and anyway, he probably wanted this as much as Nick did. Why waste time?

  Spencer pushed his shoes up against the futon’s frame, and neatly folded and stacked his clothes on top of them. Then, completely naked and fully hard, he faced Nick. “Where do you want me?”

  “Right there. Don’t move.” Nick pulled off his own shirt and tossed it in the general direction of Spencer’s clothes. He only had on trainers today, so he toed those off and nudged them aside. Eyes locked on Spencer’s, he unbuckled his belt. Spencer could barely stand still; the restlessness was written all over the subtle shifts of his weight to his right foot, left, right again, and the way he kept curling and uncurling his fingers into loose fists. Not nervous. He’d gotten over his nerves a long time ago.

  Nick always had some sort of new game or device up his sleeve, but Spencer trusted him. Even when he was nervous, Spencer never seemed remotely tempted to back away. He reminded Nick of a kid trying out a theme park ride for the first time: he knew it was inherently safe, and wasn’t actually afraid, but had no idea what twists and turns and feelings awaited him once the ride began.

  Nick dropped the last of his clothes on the small pile. For a moment, he just looked at Spencer. They were a couple of feet apart, both completely naked and aroused. A million ideas ran through Nick’s mind. Flog him? Bind him? Break out the evil sticks or the nipple clamps? Put him on his knees or over the bed?

  His body moved before his mind had caught up, and by the time he’d realised what he was doing, Nick had closed the distance between them. He put his arms around Spencer’s waist, pulled their bodies close, pressed skin to skin, and kissed him. Spencer touched him back, almost hesitant, passive, then his hands were on Nick’s shoulder blades, firm, secure, thumbs stroking his skin.

  There was something oddly protective and caring about the touch, which would have been preposterous from anybody else, but Nick found himself much less reluctant to accept it from Spencer.

  Maybe that was something he’d been missing from his for-pay relationships. Maybe some return current that a man who hired him just didn’t provide, didn’t care to provide. But Spencer did. Maybe he wasn’t even aware of it. But it added something. Depth beyond lust.

  He reached up and twisted Spencer’s nipples, made him cringe, but Spencer never broke the contact, and his erection kept pushing against Nick. His to torment, his to tease, his to make incoherent with pain or pleasure or both. And nobody else’s.

  Nick broke the kiss and grinned up into Spencer’s face. “There’s something rather special about you.”

  “Thank you,” Spencer said, and he clearly meant it. No sarcasm, no jadedness.

  Nick nodded at the bed. “Lie down.”

  “Back or front?”

  “One day I’ll tie you down hands and feet and neck, on your belly, and fuck you with a dildo until you cry, and then I’ll fuck you . . . but not today.”

  Spencer’s expression made Nick smile. It would definitely be fun to test Spencer’s endurance and make him scream, but he did feel quite a bit more mellow than that at the moment. He was just giving Spencer’s mind something to play with.

  Spencer lay down, and Nick got his toy bag out of the wardrobe. He dug up some sturdy leather cuffs and put them on Spencer. Then he pulled a length of chain out of the bag—he did like the clink and strength of it, never mind the visuals—and threaded it through the cuffs’ steel ring, then fastened them securely to the bed with carabiners.

  Spencer was watching him, and he remembered Spencer’s suggestion of being tied down completely. Easy enough. Next item on the list was a spreader bar, which he extended and fastened to Spencer’s legs. The man was shivering with anticipation, and groaned softly when Nick then fastened the bar to the frame of the bed. Almost no play, not on his hard mattress.

  “Look at you,” Nick teased. “All hot and bothered.”

  “If it pleases you.”

  “It does.” Nick grabbed condoms and lube and straddled Spencer’s waist. “How much do you trust me, Spencer?” He bent down and stared into his eyes. “Remember your safeword?”

  “Bonaparte.”

  “That’s my boy.” Nick opened a condom wrapper, reached behind himself and rolled the condom down Spencer’s length. His stomach fluttered. He’d never taken a guy Spencer’s size, and maybe he should use a blindfold to keep Spencer literally in the dark about any nervousness, but he figured that was really the coward’s way out. In. Whatever.

  “I should rent that thick cock out to some of my friends. You’d be popular.”

  Spencer jerked in the chains. “Would you—really?” He seemed shocked at the thought, and Nick almost pitied him. Maybe one fantasy too far, and he really wasn’t ready to share Spencer in any case.

  “We can talk about it,” Nick said mildly.

  Spencer’s gaze fixed on his face. He calmed visibly and nodded.

  Nick poured some lube into his hand, then ran it along the condom, aware he was mostly doing himself a favour by being thorough.

  “You might not be able to talk,” Nick said. “Grab the chain.”

  Spencer took it.

  “Release the chain if you’re in serious trouble. I’m keeping an eye on it.”

  “Okay.”

  Nick applied plenty of lube to his own arsehole, then reached for Spencer’s dick. Guiding him
was challenging from this angle. It might’ve been easier if Nick had left Spencer’s hands free, but the man looked so damn good like that, all bound and turned on and completely at Nick’s mercy, the extra effort was well worth it.

  He pressed against the head of Spencer’s cock, but went slowly. He hadn’t done this in a while, after all. Probably could’ve had Spencer finger him first, but now that he’d gotten it in his head he was going to do this, he didn’t want more steps than were necessary. No sense letting Spencer see him lose his nerve.

  Spencer stared up at him, lips parted as he watched Nick’s face. Nick had to blink a few times to keep his vision clear as he gradually relaxed, gradually yielded to Spencer. This was always the moment when he couldn’t help wondering why he so rarely let other men fuck him; it was intense to the point of breathtaking, dizzying. Except most men tried to top from the bottom when they were like this. Tried to take control. Force themselves beyond where Nick was ready to take them.

  Spencer didn’t move. He had some range of motion if he wanted it—he could thrust upwards if he was so inclined—but he was completely still. Even his chest barely rose and fell as he took slow, shallow breaths.

  Nick eased himself lower, and let himself groan as Spencer slid deeper inside him. That cock stretched him like no other, and the slow, careful pace kept the dull burn pleasurable instead of painful.

  “Oh God,” Spencer whispered. “Oh . . . Nick . . .”

  Nick bit his lip. He lifted a little, then came down lower. As he took every inch of Spencer, then slowly lifted off and came back down again, restless muscles trembled in his legs, itching to ride Spencer harder. He could take him. He could take his entire cock without discomfort. He could no doubt handle deep, hard thrusts, but he liked this. He loved this. Long, smooth strokes, feeling every inch and watching Spencer twitch and shiver beneath him.

  Beyond those little involuntary responses, Spencer didn’t move. Didn’t try to push himself deeper, didn’t try to alter Nick’s rhythm. He just lay there, perfectly surrendered, and let Nick ride him.

  “You feel incredible,” Nick breathed.

  Spencer swept his tongue across his lips. “So . . . so do you.”

  Nick put his hands on Spencer’s abs and slid them upwards as he continued slowly riding him. Spencer sucked in a breath and squirmed as Nick’s hands approached his nipples, no doubt anticipating the twist and the sting, but Nick let his fingers and palms drift lightly across the hard nubs. He continued upwards, and leaned down as his hands slid along Spencer’s arms, over his elbows, up his forearms.

  He was right over Spencer now, their faces just a few inches apart. His hands met the cuffs, and he kept going right over the top of them to Spencer’s hands, which were still gripping the chain like Nick had ordered.

  Nick lowered his head a little more, letting his lips brush Spencer’s. “Do you trust me, Spencer?”

  “Yes.” Spencer’s warm breath whispered across Nick’s lips.

  “Let go.”

  Spencer hesitated.

  Nick nudged his fingers gently. “Let go.”

  Spencer’s fingers loosened. The chain clattered quietly, and Nick clasped his fingers between Spencer’s in the same moment he pressed their lips together. He rolled his hips, not picking up any speed but changing the angle slightly, and groaned into their slow, soft kiss as Spencer’s dick pressed against that sweet spot. This so wasn’t the kind of sex Nick usually had, not even with the leather and the chains on Spencer’s wrists and ankles, but he didn’t stop. This was too good to stop.

  Skin brushed across skin, drawing Nick’s attention to their joined hands. That was when he became aware he’d been running his thumb back and forth along the back of Spencer’s. A gentle, affectionate gesture, a touch just for the sake of touching, and he hadn’t even realised he’d been doing it.

  He broke the kiss and lifted up a little so he could see Spencer’s eyes. “Does this feel . . .” He licked his lips. “Does this feel all right?”

  “More than all right,” Spencer whispered. He closed his eyes and wriggled beneath Nick, the slight lift of his hips pressing him a little deeper inside and blurring Nick’s vision.

  Nick bit back an “Oh God.” He kissed Spencer lightly, released one hand, then the other, and pushed himself upright. Holding himself up on his arms, he rode Spencer a little harder, his head spinning faster and faster every time he took all of Spencer inside him. Much more of this, he’d lose it himself, and he hadn’t teased Spencer nearly enough for that yet.

  Though the blissed-out expression on Spencer’s face seemed to indicate that he was quite happy with how things were going. But he didn’t call the shots, so Nick slowed down, ground against him, and gathered a clear thought. Spencer gasped and tensed underneath him, so Nick held completely still, regardless of what it cost him. He’d be sore as hell if he drew this out, but right now, he was enjoying the tension pooling in Spencer’s body—and his own.

  “Please,” Spencer begged.

  Nick placed a finger on Spencer’s lips. “Grab the chains,” he whispered softly.

  Spencer nodded and managed on the second attempt.

  “Good.” Nick kissed him deeply again, moving just a little, just enough to see stars and feel the tension build further. “Trust me.” He kissed him more deeply, and when he broke the kiss, he shut off Spencer’s breath with a hand over his mouth and nose.

  Spencer shuddered, but didn’t freak out. He stared at Nick with wide eyes, but didn’t fight. And he didn’t fight when Nick moved harder, fucking himself on Spencer’s dick, damn near brutal, and hell, Nick would feel this for days, but he didn’t care.

  Spencer squirmed, but his hands were firmly clenched around the chains. Five, six, seven vicious thrusts, and Nick felt Spencer come, wild-eyed and sweating, chest pumping empty, his cock moving inside him. Nick pulled his hands back and moved harder, faster, used one hand to get himself the rest of the way there, and came too.

  Nick slumped over Spencer, catching himself on one shaking arm. “You weren’t . . .” He paused, catching his breath. “Supposed to come yet.”

  “I’m sorry,” Spencer said quickly, still breathing hard himself. “I . . . I couldn’t . . .”

  Nick silenced him with a lazy kiss. “Might have to punish you for that.”

  Spencer whimpered softly. “I’m sorry.”

  Nick lifted himself up and stroked Spencer’s hair. “I know. I’m not angry.”

  “Good.” Spencer smiled, relaxing a little.

  Nick kissed him again. “But I should still punish you. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “If that pleases you,” Spencer whispered, and Nick had to grin at the hint of wickedness in his sub’s tone. An unspoken Bring it on. Spencer genuinely disliked doing anything to displease Nick, and as long as he knew Nick forgave him, he happily took whatever punishment Nick dished out.

  Nick rose off Spencer, then removed the spreader bar and the cuffs. They cleaned themselves up—Nick was tempted to suggest a shower together, but the one in this flat was prohibitively tiny—and returned to the futon.

  Though there shouldn’t have been, there was plenty of room for the two of them on the small mattress. Nick had shared this bed with another boyfriend ages ago, and it had been crowded as hell. No elbow room, no knee room. And that boyfriend had been significantly shorter and narrower than Spencer. But he and Spencer just fit together. Arms around each other, legs loosely tangled up, Spencer’s head on Nick’s chest. They occupied as much space on this bed as they did on the giant one back at Spencer’s place, and Nick was perfectly comfortable like this.

  “We were going to try out some toys, weren’t we?” he asked, absently stroking Spencer’s short hair.

  “I think so,” Spencer said. “Some, um, devices?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Nick dropped a light kiss on Spencer’s forehead. “And maybe, in light of you coming without permission, we’ll go with something a little more . . . severe.”


  Spencer tensed slightly. “More severe than what?”

  “More severe than me just telling you not to touch yourself,” Nick teased. He nudged Spencer’s shoulder. “I’ll get my bag. See what you’ll be wearing to the office on Tuesday.”

  Spencer shuddered, but he obeyed and sat up.

  Nick reached for his bag and dug for a number of options. He could discard three entirely—Spencer was simply too large for them, and they did need at least a bit of play when his dick tried to get hard.

  He found one of his favourites—a stainless steel cage that would serve its purpose beautifully. He hadn’t used this one more than once or twice.

  Spencer licked his lips when Nick pulled it out and lifted it up high enough for him to see. “That one should fit.” He reached for Spencer’s dick and pulled him closer by it. Spencer immediately complied. When Nick pushed the steel sleeve over his dick, Spencer tensed.

  “C-cold.”

  “It warms up quickly.” Nick pulled it in place, closed the securing ring around Spencer’s balls, and inspected it from all sides. There were holes at the tip, allowing Spencer to piss, but the cage held his cock at a severe curve down, making it impossible for him to get hard. Coming was out of the question. It was weightier than one in plastic, but he did prefer steel for this. It was just a more primal material, stronger, unyielding, and the fact that it didn’t splinter or scratch even with heavy use was another plus.

  Spencer stared at him, as if about to bargain, but he didn’t.

  “That works on you. It’s a good look.”

  Spencer chuckled. “As long as I can wear it with a suit.”

  “Oh, definitely. It’s a very good look under a suit.” Nick kept the cage in place with one hand, then kissed Spencer. “Considering I like your dick that much, nobody else can use it.”