Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The darkness closed in, and Pink Floyd was ready with the soundtrack. One day, one week, was much like another. Another brick in the wall.
DJ couldn’t find his way out of it. At three in the morning, he found himself standing by the bed, his heart thundering and body covered in sweat.
He moved to the window and stared out at the wall, the forest looming behind it.
At least he hadn’t woken screaming. He wouldn’t have minded finding Roy with him again, though.
The wind was blowing through the treetops. He cracked the door so he could feel the breeze touch his bare flesh and closed his eyes, shuddering.
He didn’t know what was worse. Knowing they were gone a hundred percent of the time, like a throbbing, open wound, or having those excruciating three or four seconds upon waking where he had to remember it all over again.
He couldn’t make any sense of it, and the more he tried, the worse he felt. He registered a draft as the bedroom door cracked. Opening the sliding glass caused a notification on the security system. He supposed one of the team was doing a visual check, and didn’t turn around.
The bedroom door closed, but whoever had looked in was still there. A deep inhale, and he knew Roy was here after all.
His bodyguard came up behind him, bringing his welcome heat. DJ didn’t say anything, couldn’t. He was filled with impossibly large feelings.
Words drifted in his head. Usually he had an idea of the music that went with them, and he’d bring it to the guys. They’d work together to flesh it out. But now there was no music. Steve, Pete and Tal had taken the music with them.
“Don’t make me feel,” he said.
Roy’s chest brushed DJ’s back, his hand clasping his cold, bare shoulder in a strong grip.
“If I know you need to feel, that’s what I’m going to give you. Kneel.”
DJ closed his eyes, a tiny sound coming from his throat, a plea or a protest, he didn’t know, but his knees buckled. Roy slowed his descent, a hand at his waist and under his arm, and got him to his knees. Once there, he tangled his fingers in DJ’s hair, tugged and held it in a bowed position.
Then he knelt behind him, his hands following DJ’s shoulders, his back, down to his hips and ass. He introduced himself to DJ’s body every time he touched him, maybe to get the info he needed as a Dom from that map.
Whatever he felt must have satisfied him, because he tunneled into DJ’s pajama bottoms and pushed them off his ass, tucking them under his heels.
DJ became aware of a deep voice humming, Roy adding an accompaniment to the stroke of his hands.
DJ was the instrument responding to the stimulation, offering an erotic arrangement of response.
Roy pressed his mouth to DJ’s back and curled an arm around his middle.
He shifted DJ so he was face down over Roy’s lap.
Roy had a pillow on it, so DJ’s cock was pressed against it, his knees on the floor on one side, his elbows on the other.
Roy held DJ’s nape so his forehead was between his elbows.
“Roy…”
“Sshh.”
DJ swallowed. The tenderness was drawing the hurt up, making it hard to hold inside him. He was going to need to push up, to bolt.
Then Roy brought his hand down on DJ’s buttocks.
A sweeping stroke that came in from a low point to strike the base of the cheeks.
It made the taut globes quiver and sent a startling mix of discomfort and sexual response shooting through him.
A breath left DJ, and his fingers dug into the polished hardwood floor.
Sensation rebounded into his testicles and flooded his cock.
His nipples tightened, his muscles constricted, and his heart pounded.
He’d spent the day in bed, he had deadly breath again, his hair was mussed and he needed a shower. And yet, Roy was making him feel like his only need in life was this, to submit to his Master, and brace for an arousal so strong there was no way he could resist or escape it.
Another strike, just like that one. Christ…
it messed with his head. As Roy kept doing it, the sting building in intensity, the power of it rocketed through his body.
DJ’s legs loosened and spread in open invitation, his hips jerking and ass rising.
He couldn’t stop his reaction. His desire.
His heart tried to protest, but the rest of him didn’t care.
His buttocks smarted. The heat suggested Roy was making them crimson with his broad-palmed smacks. DJ groaned in need, his aching and hard cock pressed into the pillow. “Please…”
“You’re going to come while I’m beating your ass, DJ. And then I’m going to fuck you a good long time.”
“What if I say…no? And piss off.” His struggling served no purpose. He couldn’t shake Roy’s hold. He was helpless.
“I don’t hear a safeword. So ‘no’ and ‘piss off’ just means ‘thank you, Sir’ and ‘keep going,’ doesn’t it?”
God, he loved it when Roy’s voice sounded like that. Not mean, not cruel. Just relentless, an oncoming storm. Nothing mortal could stop it. All while he held DJ without causing him any harm at all, beyond a brisk spanking.
“I want to hear it. Right now, DJ.” He reached between DJ’s spread legs to cradle his testicles. DJ bucked.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you…Sir. Please…keep going.”
“If that’s what I want. Right?”
“Yes. If that’s what you want.”
Roy’s grip gentled. “Good boy.”
DJ pressed his forehead harder into the floor. “Don’t…” he choked. But then Roy was spanking him again, until his ass was seriously on fire, but he wanted him to keep going. And he did, until his cock convulsed and he spewed against the pillow, just as Roy had commanded him to do.
He was still shuddering from the aftershocks when Roy lifted him from the floor to the bed, putting him down on his stomach. He slid himself up behind DJ, pulling him to his knees.
Nothing but a Master’s demand now, not rushed, but no hesitation either. Lubricant went in, then Roy’s fingers, then Roy’s cock, stretching and pushing deep as DJ moaned, and his tears wet the sheets.
Roy kept stroking his cock, keeping it semi-hard as he set the pace he wanted. He was thorough, a deep pumping into DJ’s ass, a full claiming he matched with squeezes of DJ’s cock, so that when he finally came, DJ was nearly there again.
Roy dropped down on him as he released, pinning DJ to the bed with muscled heat, the best kind of weighted blanket, the damp skin and coarse chest hair pressed to DJ’s back.
DJ had to fumble to find coordination, but when he did, he covered Roy’s hand with his own.
Roy allowed it, letting their fingers overlap.
When he eventually rolled so they were on their sides, DJ was curled in the crescent of Roy’s body, just like the other night.
Roy remained inside, snugging his hips up tight against DJ’s ass.
“Yes,” Roy murmured against his ear. “I’m going to play with your body until my dick gets hard again. Then I’m going to have you once more, while I wrap my hand around your cock and make you come, too. Your body is mine to control, DJ. I’m in control. Aren’t I?”
“Yes, Sir.” He shut his eyes tight and wrapped his fingers around Roy’s, pressed to DJ’s chest. Roy was rocking him, a slight movement, back and forth. It created a friction inside that shot little bursts of sensation through him. The rocking was also comforting.
“You know,” DJ managed, “In that first interview, you said your job wasn’t to save me from myself. What happened to that?”
“Maybe I'm not saving you from yourself. Maybe I'm just saving you for me.”
When DJ drifted off again, the darkness stayed away. Maybe because it knew Roy was out there watching.
Starting the next phase of his plan, Roy moved DJ to the stone cottage. It was a better spot for DJ, less echoing space and reminders of missing people.
When he’d come up with the idea for the road trip, Roy knew he’d have to wait a few weeks for DJ to be able to handle what Roy had in mind.
His late-night visits had helped with that goal, since sex was the one thing consistently pulling DJ out of his head.
Roy had no problem administering several doses of it a day if needed.
Each time the kid reached for pleasure, and life, it bolstered his own resolve.
DJ still slept a lot, though. When he was awake, he sat on the patio near the fire pit, a blanket wrapped around him as he stared out at the forest.
During that time, Roy worked on logistics. Milton and his staff continued to impress, doing quiet, kind things for DJ while taking care of what Roy needed, in ways that acknowledged what he was trying to do.
He saw no evidence that the sudden obvious intimacy between their employer and his bodyguard was unexpected or of concern.
Moss came by to update DJ on Pete, Tal and Steve. Custom urns were being made for their ashes. Moss reminded him that Marjorie wanted to scatter them with him, when he was ready.
DJ nodded, but didn’t invite further conversation on the matter.
Moss and Roy had already discussed Roy’s plan, and Moss agreed with it. DJ’s calendar was cleared for the near future, the public told DJ was taking time to grieve and determine his future direction.
During his visit, Moss moved on from burial arrangements to easy reminiscences that recalled good things about the three men and their relationship with DJ. DJ responded to the tactic, even offering a half smile here and there.
However, after Moss left, the way DJ pulled back into himself, Roy thought it had also reminded him of all the good things in the future they wouldn’t be sharing. Sometimes there was no way to avoid aggravating an open wound.
It was time to pull the trigger.