11. Riley #3
“This is the best gift ever,” he whispered. Before I could even let the words sink in, he snatched the small bag from the table, then apparently changed his mind again and gave it to me. “This feels way too silly now, but maybe we can still put it to good use. Either way, you win Christmas, Riley.”
I took the paper bag while grinning to myself like a school boy. He loved it. He freaking loved it. It was a huge risk, but the Empire Strikes Back movie poster puzzle was the only thing I could think of getting him. I hadn’t realized what a gamble it was until it paid off.
I opened the colorful bag and my heart leaped as much as my cock sprang and air drained from me again.
My throat tied and I wheezed as I pulled this single, plain object out.
This was as much a gift for him as it was for me, but I wouldn’t complain one bit.
Or I would, but just enough to force him to use it.
It was a table tennis paddle with a big, flat, semi-circle and a nicely carved handle, finely sanded and polished. I could already feel it. I could hear it meeting my flesh. “Wow,” I managed, my throat relaxing a little.
“Oh, you love it. Good.” Cam grinned. When I looked up questioningly, he shook his head. “You’re turning red, Riley. And not in the place I want to redden.”
My eyes widened briefly as I turned the bat in my hand. He wanted to redden my cheeks? I’d go for it. I would go all the way. “Alright,” I said matter-of-factly, then thrust the bat to him. “We’ll play with my gift first.”
“Now?” he asked, faltering only for a moment.
That was all the opening I needed to slide into my character. “Unless you’re chickening out.”
He startled, then frowned and assumed the other half of the role we played.
I went on. “You’ll have to fight for it. I’m not just a toy waiting around for you. Come and take it.”
The frown deepened on his face and he pushed himself a little closer to me, spinning the tennis paddle. “You are what I say you are, Riley. Remember?”
“Ohmyfuck,” I blurted, strangled by my own body. I blinked twice at Cameron as he slammed the flat surface of the paddle against his open palm and winced.
“Stings,” he mused, then swirled the paddle in his hand again. “Now, be a good boy, and stand up.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. But as I rose, I felt myself swelling and hardening.
The bulge that formed in my sweatpants was pronounced enough to drag out a chuckle from Cameron.
But there was nothing funny about this. The sinister sounds he made in his throat as I straightened sent shivers down my spine.
Cameron tossed the bat on the sofa and set his hands squarely on my hips, then looked up from his sitting position. Even so, he looked imposing and larger than the universe. He seemed to have me wrapped around his finger.
Being at his mercy was equally sexy as it was dangerous. To have him control me, possess me, and claim me aggressively in his unique fashion was the fulfillment of all my wet dreams. And yet, being his to play around with meant I was his to discard, too.
I hushed myself when Cameron spoke. “You’re so fucking horny, Riley,” he said, almost like he was scolding me.
“All the goddamn time.” There was a trace of humor in his voice as he sucked his teeth and shook his head in mock disapproval.
“What will I ever do with you?” The hypothetical question dulled in my mind because, at the same time, Cam pulled my sweatpants over my ass, revealing a pair of briefs and cupping my firm, round butt.
The front side was still fairly up, hooked over my hard cock.
I’d made it easy for him without even knowing. The drawstring on my sweats was untied like with all the shorts I’d worn the last summer we had spent together.
His touch was cool against my bare skin as he slid his hands down my legs, pulling my sweatpants lower. “Take them off,” he commanded in a clipped tone. “Leave the briefs on.”
I exhaled a shuddering breath of air, then did as I was told. Just as I bent to step out of my sweatpants, Cameron got up. The annoying two inches of height he had on me seemed like miles after I straightened and looked up into his eyes.
Cameron placed his hand gently on my face, then moved it around until it was at the back of my head.
There, he closed his fist abruptly and a sliver of pain stung my scalp.
He yanked my head back until I bared my teeth and growled up at him.
But that seemed to amuse him. Like I was a puppy attempting to bark or bite.
“Are you seriously resisting me, Riley?” he asked, incredulous and sexy as all hell.
In reply, I reached forward and grabbed his long-sleeved T-shirt.
I closed my fists around the soft fabric on the sides of his torso, earning a tighter grip on my hair.
We were deadlocked in this bearhug, threatening to rip each other apart any moment.
He lived for a little bit of resistance, and I loved seeing how far I could push him.
We had always been like atoms in a fission bomb, igniting and splitting one another’s very core.
The devastation we threatened everything with was unimaginable.
And yet, I was struggling to breathe and my cock was throbbing harder with each little move of his hand.
Cameron used his other hand to grab the bottom edge of my sweater. His move was so swift and clean that I barely knew what was happening before my arms flew up and the sweater disappeared. It fell in a heap somewhere behind me and Cameron stepped back to look at me.
I stood still, letting my chest rise and expand with a deep breath of air.
The glare I directed at my lover was as much staged as everything else we did to one another, but I could feel it.
Coating the desire and lust between us, the vengeful and aggressive roles we played were almost real.
They were almost alter egos we carried deep inside of us.
“Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, his gaze kissing every inch of my muscled torso.
“Was I ever?” I retorted, instinctively flexing my muscles like a real show off.
“Tsk.” Cameron narrowed his eyes and let his gaze linger on the massive bulge inside my briefs. “Get down on your knees,” he said, gesturing with his head at the sofa.
I hesitated for a short while. “So you can make my ass red?” A tiny note of contempt touched my voice, but the fire in me blazed so hot that it was a wonder I could stand still at all.
“You deserve it, Riley,” he said, wielding so much power with nothing more but his smoky tone. “Walking in here with that bubble-butt, putting me through hell, asking for it…”
My breath hitched and my lips parted a little.
“You sexy little fuck,” Cameron said and it sure as hell got me to turn around and slide down onto the sofa, my knees sinking into the seat and arms folding over the back of it. My chest rested against my arms and I shuddered as I inhaled.
Cameron was slow and deliberate in his movement.
He positioned himself behind me, pressing his fully dressed crotch against my ass.
Then, he placed his hands on my hips and yanked me back against him.
His soft sweatpants let the hardness of his cock rut against me.
He swiped his thumbs along the edges of my briefs, tucking all of the fabric between my cheeks and baring my skin for the things he wished to do to me.
I was so fucking desperate to feel the bat on my flesh that I couldn’t contain a whimper. It broke out of me at the slightest touch of his palm against my body.
“Christ, Riley, you’re shaking,” Cam said, his voice considerably softer.
I inhaled a deep breath of air and held it for a short while.
“Hurt me, Cam,” I whispered, harsher than I’d meant to, and bit my lip as I sensed him lean over for the paddle.
Its smooth surface was beautiful on the skin of my cheeks.
Cameron traced my butt with the tennis paddle, sending waves upon waves of chills up my spine.
He pressed his free hand down on the small of my back, bending me until my ass was perched up for him.
“Your skin is so smooth,” he said, purring with pleasure. “It’s almost a shame to…”
The paddle slapped me hard and fast before I even knew he would do it. I yelped, digging my fingers into the sofa’s soft back. “Fuck,” I grunted.
“…make it so red and bruised,” Cam continued uninterrupted. “But my boy is needy.”
This time, I was ready, and he only got a strangled growl from me when the flat wood spanked my other cheek.
The stinging spread all over my ass and the sensitivity to touch increased by a hundredfold.
The smooth circling of the paddle over my skin was no longer just that, but a totally heightened experience.
“He likes to feel pain,” Cameron went on, sliding the paddle in a circular motion over my right cheek.
I could tell he was holding back and dipping his toe in first, testing what his ingenious device was capable of. When he spanked my right cheek again, I whimpered into the fold of my arm. Burning spread several inches around the place he had struck and he fast soothed the hurt.
“He likes when I punish him,” Cameron said, voice dropping lower, then landing another blow on the same side that made every muscle in my body cramp. I choked on a cry that never left my throat, but I was still far from the maximum I could take.
And Cameron knew it. He knew it so fucking well. In truth, he was the one who served obediently and I was the one coming out on top.
He slid his bare hand gently between my legs, cupping my tightly packed balls and pressing two fingers along the length of my trapped cock. He did it for a single purpose that I saw through right away. And it was the hottest fucking thing I knew.
When he spanked me on the left side, every inch of me pulsed, and Cameron hissed with pleasure as he felt my cock throb.