Chapter 9 Combustion
Cade
Twin flames of anger and lust burned hot and fast in Cade's gut.
His gaze bored into Tristan's as he grabbed his chin and growled, "Let's get one thing straight.
If we do this, you don't speak to me like that.
You don't tell me what to do. You do what I say, you answer when I ask a question, and that's it. Got it?"
Inhaling quick, shallow breaths, Tristan bobbed his head in agreement. Cade stared him down, searching for any doubt or fear, but all he saw was raw desire.
Still, he needed to be sure. "You get that I was serious, right? That it will hurt?"
Swallowing hard, Tristan whispered, "Yes."
"Fuck," Cade cursed before he smashed their lips together, claiming and demanding. The feel of Tristan's pliant mouth stoked the fires of his lust even more. His tongue plundered, his lips devoured, his teeth nipped. His whole body buzzed from arousal, and his dick begged him to take, take, take.
But logic poked through his frenzied haze and reminded him of the conversation that needed to happen before going any further. With supreme effort, he broke the kiss and stepped out of reach. Running his hand through his hair, he sucked in some deep breaths and tried to calm his raging need.
"There are things we need to discuss before the scene. Do you know what a scene is?"
Tristan was flushed, breathless and shaky, but when he answered, he sounded eager, and the combination was sexy as hell.
“Um, like a … session … when we, um … ?”
"Yes. You'll need a safe word. Do you know what that is?"
"Yes."
"Do you have one?"
"No."
"Pick one."
A cute little frown appeared on Tristan's face as he considered his answer. Finally, he announced, "Nickelback."
Cade squinted at him. "Nickelback is your safe word?"
"Yes, it's perfect, because when I'm listening to music and hear Nickelback, I immediately want it to stop."
Several seconds ticked by before Cade admitted, "That's either the dumbest or the most genius thing I've ever heard."
Tristan smirked and shrugged in response.
Cade shook his head before continuing. "Okay, well, you can also use the stoplight system. Red means stop, yellow means slow down, and green means go. Okay?"
"Yes."
"And if you can't speak, you can tap out. Do you know what that means?"
"Like, just tap your arm or something?"
"Yeah, wherever you can reach. A few times, so I know it's intentional."
"Okay. I understand."
"Good. So I need to know, what are your hard limits?"
"What do you mean?" Tristan knitted his brows and looked so guileless that Cade almost reconsidered.
But then he remembered how Tristan's body reacted to his words, how it practically begged to be used.
He might regret it at some point, but right now, he throbbed with an urgent need to take this man apart.
"I mean," he continued patiently, "What things will you absolutely not consent to?"
"Oh, I see." Tristan pressed his lips together as he pondered his answer, then said, "Um, I guess you can't, um, piss on me, or …"
"Noted," Cade interrupted. "Not an issue anyway. Anything else?"
Tristan's face scrunched up in concentration as he thought. "Nothing I can think of."
"You're alright with the stuff I mentioned? Choking? Restraint? Marking? Can I pull your hair?"
Interest, maybe even hunger, flashed in honey-colored eyes, and that tongue darted out again to lick all around plump, pink lips.
Fucking hell, he needed that mouth on him.
Tristan jerked his head in a quick nod.
"What about degradation? Edging?"
The response — a dropped jaw and a quick, soft inhale — was clearly not surprise or disgust, but arousal. Cade had his answer but still waited for a response.
"That's fine."
Cade's dick kicked at the husky tone of his voice.
"You can always use your safe word or say 'red' or 'yellow' if there's something you don't like, or if it's too much. You understand that, right?"
"Yes."
"So you must have questions. What are they?"
As he thought, Tristan bit his lip and stared at the floor. When he tilted his gaze up, his cheeks blushed an adorable pink.
Cade wanted to bite them.
"When you, um, choke me … you're not going to, like, accidentally kill me, right?"
"I've choked people to kill them, and I've choked people during sex. I'm very familiar with the difference."
Tristan's brows shot up, and Cade hoped the reaction stemmed from the killing part, not the sex part.
"And you can always tap out, too. I can start easy if you want."
Chewing nervously at his lower lip, Tristan asked, "What kind of pain are we talking about? You’re not going to, like, seriously hurt me, right?"
Trying to sound reassuring, Cade answered, "You may have irritated skin or muscle soreness, but you shouldn’t have any lasting pain or injuries."
"Okay, then," Tristan said with finality.
"No other questions?"
"No."
"You're not going to make sure I'll stop if you use your safe word?"
Tilting his head, Tristan answered, "I don't need to. I know you will. I trust you."
Cade felt it necessary to point out the obvious. "You just met me."
"You saved my life. Twice. You've kept me safe and worried about my well-being. You treated my burn. I know you wouldn't hurt me, I mean, not like that. Not after everything."
Because he wasn't sure what to do with that information and the strange emotions that threatened to bubble over, Cade shoved them aside and focused on the conversation. "This is your last chance to change your mind, Tristan."
"I don't want to change my mind."
Now that what he craved lay within reach, Cade's heart thudded wildly. He confirmed one final time. "You're absolutely sure?"
Studying the other man's face for any sign of indecision, he only saw that familiar determination.
"Yes," Tristan whispered, inching closer till they stood toe-to-toe, till Cade could make out the distinct shades of brown and gold in his irises. His pulse skipped erratically like some fucking virgin as he took in Tristan's flushed cheeks and his full lips, just begging to be kissed.
God, I want to ruin him.
He grabbed the front of Tristan's t-shirt and crushed them together. Grabbing his ass with both hands, he ground their hips together as he assaulted his mouth, pushing his tongue deep, taking what he wanted, demanding surrender.
He realized he was already hard just from a little making out.
Pulling back, he watched Tristan's eyelids slowly flutter open, revealing blown pupils that swallowed the color around them, and felt satisfaction that his partner already looked half-wrecked.
"Get on your knees," he commanded, his voice gruff from the wild hunger coursing through his veins.
It was almost comical how quickly the other man obeyed, and electricity zinged up Cade's spine at his unquestioning obedience.
As Tristan peered up at him, eyes hazy, face hovering centimeters from the obscene tent in his pants, Cade admitted he needed to calm himself, or this would be over before it even started.
With both hands, he lowered his sweatpants and boxer briefs enough to set his dick free from its confines.
It twitched right in front of Tristan's face, long, thick, hard and already leaking.
The man on his knees gasped softly, before looking up at him expectantly, lips parted, just begging to be used.
Cade's dick throbbed, but he tried not to reveal his desperation when he taunted, "Let's find out what that mouth can do besides ask a thousand fucking questions."
Leaning forward, tentatively at first, Tristan wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and angled it to his mouth. He experimentally kitten-licked the tip as Cade strained to keep his body still.
Overcome with a fierce desire to study every nuance on Tristan's face while he blew him, Cade growled, "Eyes on me."
Golden eyes snapped up.
"Don't take them off me, understand?"
Tristan obediently kept their gazes locked as he opened his mouth to draw his cockhead in.
He swirled his tongue for a moment while Cade watched, mesmerized, taking in every small, subtle movement of Tristan's mouth as his lips wrapped around his dick.
There was no question in his mind that this erotic scene would stay with him for a long while.
He randomly wondered how many cocks Tristan had sucked before, and felt an irrational, acute burst of jealousy at the thought of that mouth on anyone else except him.
Mine, the voice in his head clamored, loud and insistent.
Pushing the ridiculous thought aside, Cade fixated on the obscene vision before him.
Tristan's focus remained faithfully trained on him as he flattened his tongue to the underside of his dick and then opened wide to take him deep.
He gagged a little when the tip hit the back of his throat, and his eyes misted over before he pulled off for a second and tried again.
Tristan took as much of his cock in his mouth as he could and covered the rest with his fist. He increased the suction and bobbed enthusiastically, his lips forming a lewd circle around his dick, just like Cade knew they would.
Tears spilled down the redhead's cheeks due to his occasional choking and the strain of keeping his mouth wide open for so long, and saliva leaked from the corners of his mouth, making the blow job too sloppy and wet and loud.
It was fucking perfect.
"You know how fucking amazing you look on your knees with your mouth on my cock?"
Tristan hummed but didn't slow his pace at all. The pornographic squelching sounds continued, along with the exquisite wet heat of his mouth and an occasional throaty rumble, but soon Cade’s restraint dissolved.
He threaded his fingers into soft curls and yanked two handfuls of hair.
Tristan groaned, but like a good little slut, kept his full attention on him.
"Put your hand on my thigh."
Instant compliance.
Fucking hell.
"I'm going to fuck your mouth. If it's too much, tap my leg. Understand?"
Tristan dipped his chin, lips still stretched around his cock.