Chapter 18 #2
Zavier let up on his one nipple and switched hands so he could toy with the other, untouched one. “What I want is every bit of you screaming for me.” He kissed Ray’s shoulder. “Now, no sounds.”
Zavier bit Ray’s shoulder and clamped fingers around his nipple, yanking hard.
The agony was amazing and wonderful, and Ray couldn’t breathe.
He could barely stand. Wanted to slide down Zavier’s body and do whatever the hell he commanded.
Everything existed only in that moment between the white heat of pain and the glory of pleasure beating through his blood.
Ray didn’t come. Kind of felt like that, but he was still hard and panting and pressing against Zavier, even as he was being held upright because his legs were jelly.
“You’re so incredible like this, Ray. You should see yourself.” Zavier kissed his neck. “Over to the couch. Kneeling. Hands behind your back and head down.”
Zavier guided him, which was good. The words made sense, and he wanted to obey, but he was so fucking high he wasn’t sure he was moving right or doing what he needed to. Zavier’s tugging and pressing and stroking got him into the right position.
Ray’s rasping breath sounded in his ears as he pressed his forehead against the leather of the couch. He needed this. Every ounce of him needed to be grabbed and fucked and given over to Zavier.
Zavier pressed his lips to Ray’s ass, licking and biting until Ray couldn’t help squirming. He clamped his lips closed, but still couldn’t keep from groaning.
A deep chuckle. “Quiet now.” Zavier spread Ray’s cheeks and mouthed his hole.
Ray rocked and gasped and shoved his fist into his mouth to keep from crying out.
It had been years since he’d been rimmed.
Zavier’s tongue pressing into him was like a live wire straight to his balls.
He moaned around his hand. Despite the sounds—or maybe because of them—Zavier didn’t let up, and fuck, was he good.
Ray rocked back, wanting and needing more.
He was on fire, his whole body aching to come.
“Zav...” He whispered the name like a plea and a prayer and a curse all wrapped into one.
Finally Zavier let up, but only to spit and slide a digit—from the stretch, his thumb—inside Ray.
“Shh.” He worked Ray’s ass, stroking and pressing until Ray was gnawing at his fist again, trying to remain silent.
But the grunts and groans slipped out anyway.
“So needy, aren’t you?” Zavier purred the words, soft and low.
Eventually, he quit finger—or thumb—fucking him, and the sound of a condom wrapper ripping filtered over the thrum of the bus’s motor. He spread cool lube into Ray’s crack and ass, igniting pinpricks over his back. The thick head of Zavier’s cock nudged against his entrance.
Please. Please fuck me already. Screaming it out was out of the question, so he pressed his forehead into the seat cushion and mouthed his knuckle. He was so far gone, he’d probably shoot the moment Zavier stroked him. Or hit his prostate.
“Give me your hands, Ray.” Murmured words. Zavier took hold of the one still behind Ray’s back—and waited.
He was loath to give it up, but did, offering it at the small of his back. Zavier took the other and brought the wrists together.
“Very good.” He thrust forward, driving his cock into Ray.
The burn. The stretch, then the utter joy of being filled. He did groan, not loudly, but enough to elicit a pleased grunt from Zavier, who pulled out and plunged in again.
Being split by Zavier’s dick was even better now than the first time. Sharp, rapid thrusts drove breath from Ray’s lungs and burned against the bruises from Zavier’s spankings. He squirmed with the sharp bursts of heat against his flesh, and torment turned to color and light in his vision.
Oh yeah, he’d feel this in the morning. Love it, too. Loved it right now. He pressed back into Zavier’s thrusts, meeting his rhythm until they were one quick beat. Synchronized and perfect, just like on stage.
“Fuck, Ray,” Zavier murmured, his voice tight. He shifted his grip on Ray’s wrists, catching them with one hand. The other Zavier wrapped around Ray’s dick.
Sparks of bliss and agony burst in Ray’s blood. He whimpered. Didn’t mean to, but his balls ached and his spine was on fire and he was going to come in an instant. Took every bit he had not to spill over Zavier’s hand then and there.
Zavier leaned over him, weighing him down, whispering into his ear. “You wanna come so bad, don’t you? But you won’t. Not yet.”
He stroked Ray harder, and Ray squeezed his eyes closed. Red and white halos flashed in his vision. He was gonna die here. Burst something. He couldn’t even plead. It was all he could do to suck down air and rock back on Zavier’s cock.
The thrusts ramped up, as did Zavier’s hand, and it was fucking perfect—brutal and yet tender. Ray spun between the poles of desire and agony and his whole world tunneled down to color and sound and light.
“Now, Ray.”
His orgasm raked through him. Someone gasped—maybe him.
Probably him. Then everything hazed and sparked until he couldn’t see or hear.
Zavier thrust deep, groaning as he came, then stilled and lay over him.
He wanted to stay that way forever, but a moment later, Zavier pulled out and let go of Ray’s wrists.
“Hey.” Zavier whispered the word into his ear.
Ray tried to reply, but it came out as a croak. His head swam in light and darkness and pleasure. Buzzed like being drunk. He swam though the overwhelming feelings, trying to find his way back to coherency.
Hard, especially since he liked being here—fucked into oblivion.
Hands on his body again, this time to turn him to his side and straighten his body out. Zavier crouched in front of him. “Green, yellow, or red?” Concern there.
“Green,” Ray murmured. So much so. “That was...incredible.”
“Not too much?” Zavier stroked his hair.
“No.” His voice was breath. “Never too much. Perfect.” He licked his lips. “You fuck me like no one else ever has.”
He couldn’t tell if it was delight or sadness that flickered over Zavier’s face. He leaned in and kissed Ray’s forehead. “Man, you’ve had shitty lovers.”
He shrugged. “Not shitty. Just not you. No one’s ever pushed me like that. Or asked me what I wanted before we even started. Most just want me to get them off, you know? Or maybe I was the shitty lover, only out for myself.” Yeah, that could’ve been it, too. God, he was an asshole.
Zavier murmured against his forehead, “I’ll take care of you, Ray. Fuck you nice and good. Teach you how to please me.”
He relaxed into Zavier’s embrace. “I don’t want to be a burden. I’m such a burden.”
“You’re no such thing.” Zavier chuckled. “And it’s not like I’m being entirely altruistic by upending you and ramming your ass until I come.”
Okay, there was that. “Will you—will you tie me down someday?”
Zavier exhaled and nibbled at Ray’s ear. “Just wait until we get to our next hotel and you see what I ordered off of .”
He never thought those particular words would make him shiver. “Fuck.” But of course they’d sell sex toys. They sold everything.
Zavier stood and offered him a hand. “Time to sleep, I think.”
Ray took it and let Zavier pull him up. Oh yeah, he’d be reminded of this night as soon as he woke in the morning. Zavier turned off the reading light, and they both slipped back into their bunks, as quietly as they could. Dom was still snoring softly. No telling if Mish was awake or not.
Though, if the slight throb on his shoulder was anything to go by, they’d be able to tell something had happened as soon as Ray crawled out of bed. Of course Zavier had bitten the shoulder with hardly any ink.
Zavier had marked him. Claimed him. No strings attached but those Ray put there himself.
He stared up into the darkness. One thing was for sure: it was nice to be wanted and a relief to be looked after—even only in this manner.
He closed his eyes and let the hum of the road and the ache of his body lull him to sleep.
Zavier kept the leather bracelets and cuff on even when they weren’t performing, because Ray couldn’t stop looking at them.
He’d already ordered several items, including restraints, from and had them shipped to their next hotel.
Yes, the cost of having the box held would be astronomical, but undoubtedly worth it, given the way Ray reacted to every single touch, smile, and suggestion.
The memory of Ray melting into submission at Zavier’s feet stirred both need and peace in him.
He’d had compliant subs before and bratty ones, too.
He’d fucked and played with a great many people in his life, but the way Ray reacted moved Zavier on a deeper level.
Toping Ray was fulfilling—and not only in the sexual sense.
They complemented each other with their friendship, with Ray’s brashness, sexuality, kink, and that inherent neediness to be taken from the world.
Unexpected, yes. But like syncopated beats, they might not share the same exact rhythm, but they merged and found each other, over and over. Zavier had wanted that kind of meeting of minds with someone for so long. That he could help Ray as well? Keep him steady and relaxed? Even better.
In Phoenix, Zavier managed to get Ray alone for a few minutes in the hours before they went on stage.
Enough time to pull back the collar of his T-shirt and kiss the bruise on his shoulder.
The one that looked exactly like the sexy bite mark it was.
He’d no doubt when Ray tore off his shirt, every camera would focus on that.
“Carl will have words,” Zavier murmured against Ray’s skin.
Ray relaxed in Zavier’s arms and said, “Let him. Don’t care anymore.”
At some level, Zavier didn’t care, either, but a voice in the back of his brain reminded him that Carl hadn’t fucked with Ray—or the band—in a while. Which was unusual and troubling, but he set the worry aside.