Chapter Six #3
With a grin, I dragged my t-shirt off over my head.
I snapped the tag off the harness and after lifting it this way and that, trying to get my head around how it went on, I shrugged into it.
It was a bit tight but thankfully had several adjustment points and soon enough I was snapping the clasp closed over my breastbone.
I strode to the wardrobe, pushing the door open to reveal the full-length mirror attached to the inside and took a moment to appraise myself.
“Shite, it actually looks kinda hot,” I muttered, turning myself this way and that. Something about the soft, black leather wrapped over my tattoos and muscular chest set my pulse racing. I wondered what John-Francis would have to say about it.
I wandered back to the bed and sat on the edge, fiddling with the set of cuffs. They weren’t silly pretend ones, that much was for certain – no fluffy bits or ribbons. These were the real deal, made from cold, hard steel. I flicked them open and closed, learning how they worked.
I’d been so preoccupied, I hadn’t been keeping an eye on the time and when I heard gravel crunching loudly beneath tyres just outside the caravan, my heart began to pound.
I hurriedly grabbed the lube and johnnies, setting them on the side and stuffed the empty bag and tags back into the drawer before closing it.
With shaking hands, I flicked the television to mute and hit the lights, only the dim glow of the screen lighting the place.
There were voices outside now, though I couldn’t make out what was being said.
I dragged my jeans off, kicking them away until I was just in my boxers and my new harness, before clambering onto the bed and shoved the cuffs under the pillows.
I lay back, just where I’d been when John-Francis left me and waited for him to return with blood pounding in my ears.
The door flew open and John-Francis bounded up the steps and inside. He was soaked to the skin, his t-shirt glued to his torso and I licked my lower lip.
“Feckin’ pissin’ it down out there,” he grumbled. “I tell ya, Declan owes me big—”
I fought to keep from laughing as John-Francis’s voice caught in his throat. He stared at me through the dim light, frozen in place.
“Hope ya don’t mind that I borrowed this,” I muttered with a grin. “Thought I’d grab the johnnies an’ that, an’ found a wee outfit as well, like.”
John-Francis remained silent, still gazing at me.
I couldn’t read him at all, and my mouth grew dry.
He was either going to fuck me or kill me, and I really didn’t know which he would land on.
Just as I was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to move or say something, John-Francis grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and peeled it off.
It hit the floor with a slap, sodden and heavy with rainwater, but he paid it no mind.
Those intense, steely eyes were fixed on me, and it made me feel lightheaded.
“Y’like it?” I asked, voice low. As he stalked towards the bed, I forced myself to keep calm and slowly spread my thighs apart. My cock was already swiftly hardening in anticipation, and it pulsed beneath the stretchy material of my boxers.
“I’d forgotten all ‘bout that wee harness. I’d picked it up years ago, like,” John-Francis eventually said, though it was more akin to a growl. “Always wondered why I’d bothered an’ why I couldn’t bring myself ta chuck it out.”
His eyes blazed into me, and I forced myself to look back at him. My heart was hammering in my chest. When John-Francis spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“Guess I’d been holdin’ onta it f’yourself all this time, aye?”
One moment he’d been standing at the end of the bed, staring at me, the next John-Francis was crushing me beneath a violent kiss.
He was wet, his skin icy cold and yet it was like a salve, cooling my body as it burst into flames.
I moaned as he delved his tongue into my mouth, hungry and desperate, and my hands stroked their way down his sides.
John-Francis wasn’t wasting any time. Still attached at the mouth, he yanked at my boxers, and I lifted my hips obediently to let him rip them from me.
I’d barely kicked them off before he was sucking my cock into his mouth.
A loud, needy groan burst from me, my whole body jerking in response.
John-Francis just groaned, the vibrations of his voice setting me alight.
“F-f—” Was all I managed to splutter, my head falling back into the pillows.
My hips curled up of their own accord, eager for more and when John-Francis began stroking his hands up the insides of my thighs, his touch light and tickling, I shuddered.
Every brush of his fingers was like electricity and my cock pulsed against his tongue.
“I—” My breath caught. “I can’t be takin’ much more o’ that, feck!”
With one hand coming to cup and massage my balls, and the other stroking a thumb up and down my taint, I felt myself slowly unravelling.
My mind fell blank and another ragged moan slipped between my lips, and yet as I reached for John-Francis’s head, keen to grab a handful of his hair, he backed away.
“Ya’ll be takin’ as much as I’d be wantin’ ya to, like,” he replied breathlessly. Still petting me, he teased the head of my cock, now rock hard and sensitive, with his tongue and when I throbbed in response, he laughed. “Y’like that, aye?”
“I’d be likin’ feckin’ everythin’ ya do,” I growled between clenched teeth. I spread my thighs in blatant invitation, hoping to entice him.
As John-Francis continued to tease me with light touches that made me ache, I shoved my hands beneath the pillows, eager for something to grab hold of. I was confused for a moment when my skin brushed cold metal, until I remembered the cuffs. I held back a feral grin.
“Y’wanna have some fun tonight, now?” I asked, lifting my head to look down at John-Francis. He held my eye contact, trailing the flat of his tongue up the length of my cock and when I groaned, he treated me to a feral grin.
“Are we not havin’ fun already, like?”
“Aye, but I’ve got an idea f’a bit more. C’mere.” I jerked my chin at him. “I wanna kiss ya.”
He played right into my hands. I grasped the cuffs tightly, ensuring they were open and ready to go. John-Francis leant in over me, kissing me roughly and when I was sure he was distracted, I struck.
“—The feck?!” he spluttered as I pushed him away roughly and rolled him over.
Capitalising on his confusion, I clipped one of the cuffs around his wrist. He fought me, but to my delight I had the upper hand.
My bicep bulged as I forced both of his wrists backwards, just about managing to get the other locked into place, trapping John-Francis to one of the spindles of the headboard.
“Ya a sneaky wee bastard, aye,” he snarled at me, though I could tell there was no real malice behind his words. John-Francis fought against his bindings and when they held, I grinned down at him.
“Takin’ it ya’d forgotten ya’d bought those wee cuffs an’ all, like?” I teased, laughing when he scowled at me. I shuffled back on my knees, hard cock jutting out into the air between us, as I surveyed my handiwork. “Y’look good all trussed up, y’know.”
“Don’t ya be gettin’ used ta it. I’d be—” John-Francis stilled, his complaints dying as I leant in and eased my hand down the front of his jeans. I wasn’t the only one who was hard and I smirked at him.
“Doesn’t look like ya’d be mindin’ it either, aye?”
I set about stripping the remainder of John-Francis’s clothes off, pleased that he didn’t fight me on it. As soon as he was fully undressed, I bent forward and eagerly slipped his cock into my mouth.
“That’s good,” he hissed with a low moan, lifting his hips up to me.
I set about sucking him, keen to bring him up to speed. Every time I drew a ragged sigh or a deep groan, I felt my dick pulse, and it just served to spur me on.
“Y’like bein’ played wi’?” I asked, voice rough. I trailed my fingers down over his taint and slipped one between his arse cheeks, teasing him.
“It’s been a wee while, but I’d not be mindin’ it, like,” John-Francis replied, his chest heaving for breath.
“Can I, then?”
He nodded and I eased myself up onto my knees, stretching for the lube I’d set aside earlier.
I squeezed a generous glob out onto my fingers before cautiously lowering myself down, lying on my front between John-Francis’s legs.
He opened up for me, a shiver running through his body as I pressed my cold, slick digits against his hole.
“A wee bit chilly, is it?” I teased, circling the puckered ring of muscle.
“Ah, feck off, now,” he laughed breathlessly. When I glanced up at him, he cast me a sexy grin. “Y’gonna be regrettin’ playin’ wi’ me once I’m outta these things, like.”
“That a threat, now?” I countered.
“A promise.”
I slipped my finger inside him, easing it forward slowly and enjoying the way it made his brow furrow.
I teased him with my tongue much the same way he’d done to me, earning myself a frustrated growl between clenched teeth.
Every time John-Francis rolled his hips, trying to get his cock fully into my mouth, I backed away.
The headboard creaked as he pulled against it, desperate to free himself from my torment.
“C’mon!” he eventually groaned, cheeks flushed. “I’m goin’ feckin’ crazy, aye.”
It was true. He was hard as nails, cock pulsing hungrily every time I drove my finger inside him. With little warning, I enveloped just the tip and sucked on him. He tasted salty, the bitterness of precum coating my tongue as I licked it away.
John-Francis’s thighs were tense, quivering slightly against my shoulders. His breaths were ragged and shallow as I held back from giving him quite enough to be satisfying. I’d gotten so caught up in my little game that I didn’t hear the loud crack until it was too late.