“No.”
That hadn’t been his intention, but Caster wasn’t sure how a conversation about their past had led to this overwhelming desire to have him again. Mark’s laughter had been the trigger, and it was now impossible to stop the arousal barreling through him.
But the desire to find out everything he could about him was far stronger. Still, there was no reason he couldn’t satisfy both. He nudged Mark’s shoulder. “Turn over for me, baby.”
There was only a hint of command, but Mark didn’t skip a beat, granting him the access he needed.
He had to shift closer to trace his defined abs, pausing to enjoy each ripple of his muscles. “Look at me.”
Their eyes met as his hand closed around Mark’s cock, but he didn’t give in to his desire to give him the pleasure he craved.
“Tell me something. Do you ever top?”
Mark moaned his response when he punctuated his question with a single stroke.
He raised an eyebrow. If he belonged to him, Caster would discipline the hesitation out of him. He’d seen it several times, and it niggled on his impatience like nothing else. Without it, there would be nothing to hinder his already phenomenal submission.
“No.”
A slight movement of his wrist and a tightening of his grip were reward enough. “No? Why?” His hand moved up the length of the magnificent cock in his grip, Mark’s hips rising to meet the stroke. “Your cock is beautiful and the perfect length.”
The hesitation was there again, as was the strategic answer he prepared in a mind he’d forgotten to fortify again. Caster’s other hand gripped his chin, tight enough that Mark’s eyes widened.
“I’m sorry. It’s just hard to think when you’re touching me.”
“Don’t think. Just answer my question.”
He swallowed. “It’s too much work.”
The lie hung between them, and Caster tightened his hold, his patience at an end. “The truth.”
Mark closed his eyes at the assault, but not before Caster saw the tears filling the brown depths.
Still, his hips shifted forward, seeking Caster’s touch.
He’d seen that desire for more pain that night at the club, and the way he’d taken it had been magnificent.
Too bad they didn’t have time for extended play today.
“Tell me, and I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.”
Mark opened his eyes, disappointment clouding his expectant expression when Caster released the hold on his jaw. “I need to surrender completely to feel anything. I can’t do that if I top.”
That he did. Caster had seen that need in the way he’d taken his cock, preparation optional. He was a one-of-a-kind submissive. His fingers traced his lips, the desire to kiss him all-consuming. “Have you ever tried it?”
Mark nodded. “A long time ago. I hated it. I didn’t even come.” He closed his eyes, his breath tickling Caster’s hand. “Please don’t make me.”
He had nothing to worry about there. “That won’t happen, baby.” The endearment he’d never used with anyone else rolled off his tongue like a prayer. “I would never make you do something you don’t want. I can promise you that.”
Mark opened his eyes. “And you’re an exclusive top?”
He nodded. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t bottomed before. If you were mine, we could try.”
The shock elicited by the comical widening of Mark’s eyes mirrored his own.
He hadn’t meant to reference the possibility of more than today.
He opened his mouth to take it back, but Mark kissed him, silencing the barrage of words he was certain he would regret.
His hand found purchase at the back of Mark’s head as he lost all thought.
He needed more, more than this, more than today’s everything.
He wanted everything, every day, for eternity.
But it would be irresponsible for him to ask Mark for that.
His pain shone through even in the most intimate of moments.
That didn’t stop him from giving in to his desire to have him, though.
He was between Mark’s open thighs, pushing into his accepting body before he could stop himself, and the emotional hole he’d dug himself into grew larger.
“Please,” Mark begged between breaths.
“Too soon, baby.” He heard his voice, but it was as if it came from Mark’s body into his.
For reasons he didn’t feel much like getting into, his thrusts were subdued, without the violence of before.
He slowed down even further, the more Mark’s body accepted his, with each moan reverberating through their connection into his chest.
“No. Not that…”
He paused, unsure of Mark’s meaning, his training kicking in. “What? What’s wrong?”
Mark didn’t provide a coherent answer. He pleaded and grabbed Caster’s arms, shaking his head.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No. No… please. I want…”
“Baby, what? What do you want?” He rolled his hips, unwilling to leave the warm embrace of his body, but certain that’s what he would do if Mark asked.
Mark’s eyes popped open, the intensity of his stare adding unnecessary spice to the crackling energy of their combined desire. “I want to be yours.”
Everything in Caster stopped, including his heart. Mark wouldn’t let him look away, run away from the moment. The challenge in his stare held Caster in place. It was clear he knew what he wanted, but that didn’t make it a good idea.
His desire all but gone, Caster pulled out of Mark, the disappointed sigh from Mark’s lips tearing an even bigger hole in his bleeding heart.
But such was the dominant’s burden in the relationship.
His desires, his needs, and wants had to take a back seat to what’s best for his submissive.
If he failed in this, Marcus would choke the life out of him. He’d never forgive himself.
Mark’s expression fell, the sadness he’d carried since they met bleeding through to inordinate proportions. He kept his place between Mark’s legs, the intimacy of what they were about to discuss requiring the proximity.
“Look at me, baby.” It was difficult, but he tried to hold his dominance away from the moment. “Please…”
Mark’s eyes met his, defiance holding back the hurt lurking beneath the surface.
“I want nothing more than for you to be mine. I think I wanted it, that first night, the moment I felt your skin against mine.” He couldn’t resist touching him, the memory of how much he’d wanted Mark that night distant, but still significant. “Do you want me to move off of you?”
Mark shook his head, his hands gripping Caster’s hips. They were both still hard, a consequence of the closeness, or the memory of that moment.
“If you were mine, I’d give you everything, every day, forever.
” He placed a single kiss on his lips, unable to resist, but stopped short of a second.
It was too dangerous to take too much. “You would never need anything. No one would ever hurt you.” He closed his eyes against the barrage of unfamiliar hurt, causing a dull ache in his chest. He opened his eyes, begging Mark to understand.
“But, baby, you still belong to someone else.”
Mark started to shake his head…
“You can’t even talk about what happened that night.” His sigh signaled his defeat. “Your pain is so clear every time he’s mentioned, I find myself envious of a dead man.”
Tears filled Mark’s eyes, but he fought his pain, the defiance, the challenge in his gaze still apparent. “I don’t want to feel that way. I don’t know how to stop.”
“Don’t you dare cry.” This time, he couldn’t hold back the commanding tone. “I can’t handle it again. That night at the club, I wanted to find whoever or whatever had caused you so much pain and tear them to shreds.”
The choked laugh from Mark was not what he expected. “I am so fucked up.”
“We are fucked up.”
He was content to lose his pain in Mark’s eyes. It was nothing compared to the pain Mark carried if that night had been any indication.
“How about we find you some closure. Kill that witch together, and we’ll revisit our fucked-up natures soon after?” It was the best he could offer. Anything else, and he would risk taking advantage of a broken submissive, something he would never do.
Mark nodded. “If you promise to still fuck me.”
Caster smiled, some of the tension draining away. “I can’t resist you. It seems futile to keep trying to.”
He pushed into Mark’s body, but it was clear in the way they both refused to rush this or break eye contact that this was more than just fucking, more than base desire.
The distinction was palpable in the way he didn’t try to stop Mark from meeting each one of his gentle, subdued thrusts and in their unhurried pace.
Gone was the desperate speed of hurtling towards pleasure.
In its place, the desire to prolong this connection as long as they could.
When it did come, their explosive pleasure was defined by a shared sigh. Neither wanted to move. Neither wanted the day to end.