Chapter 14 Escape #2
When he couldn't maintain the effort anymore, when his throat felt raw and tender, he dropped his chin to his chest and drew in shallow breaths. Then, slowly, he lifted his face and dragged the heels of his hands across it to wipe the tears.
He heard footsteps, then felt a presence beside him, solid, strong.
Looking over, he saw Cade holding out a hand, an offering, a balm, and he took it.
When he felt the long fingers squeeze his palm, he hiccupped and plastered himself against the broad chest. Arms encircled him, and he listened to the steady beat of Cade's heart against his ear.
"I can't do this," he whispered, "I'm not strong enough."
He heard a scoff. "You're stronger than you know, Tris."
"It doesn't feel like it."
"You are. I know you are," the answer came, sure and definite.
Trying to believe Cade's words and wrapped in his embrace, Tristan tried to focus on breathing deeply and listening to the calming sounds of bird songs and squirrel chirps, but the horrific thoughts of Natalie's fate persisted, unwanted guests that invaded his thoughts like termites tunneling through wood.
He needed a distraction, something to occupy his mind, because there was nothing he could do right now to help her, and it made him feel insane and unhinged.
Tilting his head up, he pleaded, "Cade, I can't do this. I need …" A brief flicker of doubt sparked, telling him he didn't need this, shouldn't need this, but his craving overruled reason, and he set his jaw and stared into those dark eyes, seeing sympathy and worry.
"I need to forget. Please make me forget."
Cade's eyebrows drew together, and his face darkened. "What? You mean …?"
"Yes."
Pressing his mouth into a thin line, Cade's eyes bored into his for so long that Tristan thought he would decline, but then he asked, "You're sure that's a good idea?"
Tristan gulped, his body already thrumming with need. "I'm going crazy. I need to get these thoughts out of my head."
"But are you sure this is the way?"
"Yes, please. I don't want to think about anything but you."
Cursing quietly, Cade studied him for another heartbeat, then grabbed his wrist. "Okay, let's head back."
As soon as they crossed the threshold, Tristan found himself pressed against the cabin door, his mouth captured in a messy kiss that made him dizzy. Pulling back, Cade searched his face and asked, "You're sure this is what you want?"
When he rasped, "Yes," the other man's eyes blazed. "Bed, now. And strip."
Heart thrumming, Tristan straightened his spine and eagerly obeyed the command. Near the bed, he shucked off his t-shirt and sweatpants, but before he could stand fully upright again, he sensed the presence at his back and felt goosebumps blanket his body.
Turning, he tilted his chin up and held Cade's hungry gaze as he peeled off his boxers and added them to the pile.
He was already half hard, but the lust in his partner's eyes as they raked down his nude form aroused him even more. Cade skimmed a finger down his neck and commented, "You look good with my marks."
The compliment and the gentle touch flushed him with warmth, and he tilted his chin up. "I think so too."
Cade's nostrils flared, and he inhaled sharply through his nose. "Sit," he ordered before he started rummaging through the dresser drawers.
When he turned back to Tristan, now sitting on the bed, he held a black bandana.
"What's that for?"
"I'm going to blindfold you."
Desire zipped up Tristan's spine, and he gulped. "Oh, okay."
Spreading his legs allowed Cade to step between them, and his breath quickened as arms reached behind his head to tie the cloth around his eyes.
"Can you see? Don't lie to me, or I'll have to punish you," came the stern warning.
Something shifted in Tristan’s chest as the idea lodged in his brain, and a beat passed before he remembered to breathe.
A low, mocking voice asked, "Are you thinking about lying so I'll punish you?"
Tilting his head toward the voice, he realized he couldn't see past several layers of the dark fabric. He swallowed hard and admitted, "Maybe."
Cade hummed and murmured, "I'll keep that in mind. Can you see?"
"No."
"Good. Lie on your back on the bed."
As Tristan complied, he focused on the sounds of the closet door opening, the rustling of fabric, and the heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor.
He felt the bed sink with Cade's weight, then the heat of bare thighs grazing both sides of his chest, suggesting the other man was naked as he straddled him.
"Put your hands above your head."
He rushed to obey as his body thrummed, and when he felt Cade leaning over him to fasten his hands, his mind reeled with the knowledge that the dick he wanted so badly was probably hanging just above his head.
He licked his lips subconsciously, trying to stay patient, but his heart pounded so forcefully the thumping jammed his ears.
He felt Cade take hold of one wrist and then wrap a soft material around it.
"What is that?" he asked in a shaky voice.
"It's a tie from a bathrobe. I don't have cuffs here, so this will have to do."
"You have handcuffs at home?"
He could hear the smirk in the other man's voice when he answered, "Yeah."
He didn't know why he was surprised.
When Cade finished tying his other wrist and then securing both hands to the headboard, Tristan's arms were nearly immobilized, and he realized with a full-body shiver that being restrained was totally doing it for him.
The blindfold and the binding left him completely at Cade's mercy, and he was already so aroused and needy it was pathetic.
"Is that okay? What's your color?"
"Green. So green."
A throaty chuckle reached his ears before the words, "Good. Remember, you can use your safe word or say red or yellow at any time. Because your hands are bound and you can't tap out, I won't do anything that stops you from talking. Got it?"
"Yes," Tristan agreed quickly, eager to get on with the good stuff.
He waited for a touch, a sensation, but when none came, he squirmed a bit, listening intently for movement or any indication of what was coming.
Cade was making him wait, toying with him, teasing him, and the delay was both annoying and exciting.
Finally, Cade's body covered him, and the heat of his skin and the weight pressing him down felt heavenly. He felt nips at his neck and ear, then bites and harsh sucking on already sore spots on his shoulders and chest.
The loss of sight heightened Tristan's other senses, and he was acutely aware of the soft sound of scruff scratching against his skin and the rustle of bodies against the sheets.
The smell of shampoo mixed with Cade's natural scent made him want to lick him all over, and he itched to glide his hands across that broad back, to rake his fingers through dark, silky hair.
Cade shifted down to his stomach, biting and sucking at his hipbones, then lower between his legs, and Tristan trembled when he licked over his balls and then finally up his shaft before swallowing his cock down deep.
Tristan groaned as wet heat surrounded him, working over his dick, up and down and around in a dizzying pattern, but just when he dangled on the edge, Cade slid his mouth off, causing him to whimper with frustration.
"Turn over. On your knees," came the rough command, and Tristan stifled his disappointment as he scrambled into position, needing Cade's help to arrange himself ass-up with his head on a pillow.
When he felt a finger skim down the length of his spine, he shivered, and his dick kicked with interest. He felt a hand grip one ass cheek and pull it aside, and then a finger traveled lower to brush over his hole.
Cade continued to tease, circle, and pass over his entrance in a dizzying denial, and Tristan felt mad with desperation, teetering on the verge of screaming or sobbing if this onslaught continued. He rocked his hips, seeking more friction, but a harsh grip stopped his movements.
"Stay still."
He whimpered and fought to stop the instinctual rolling of his hips, while his body buzzed like a live wire, tightly coiled and ready to ignite.
Muscles straining to hold still, he stifled his sob and felt his hole twitch reflexively with every subtle graze, taunting and torturing and tormenting him.
"Please... "
"I love hearing you beg," came the husky reply, as the finger continued to tease with persistent cruelty.
"Cade," he pleaded again in a whisper.
After what seemed like hours, he finally felt the wet, silky slide of his partner's tongue on the sensitive skin, and he let out a lewd moan. The suction of Cade's lips and the grazing of his teeth over his entrance sent him into a frenzy.
"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he chanted. The sensations unraveled him, drove reason from his brain, drowned him in the obscenity of it all.
He loved every fucking second.
Cade's mouth continued its brutal, unflinching assault, and Tristan slipped into a bubble where no touch mattered except the pressure of that talented tongue, and no sounds existed beyond the salacious slurping and his own grunts of pleasure.
It was pornographic.
It was sublime.
When Cade pulled his mouth away, maybe two or ten minutes later, Tristan had no time to protest the loss before two fingers speared inside of him. He cried out softly at the initial sting, but then skillful fingers curled and rubbed circles on his prostate, rendering him incoherent once again.
Attacking his sweet spot with one capable hand, Cade pinned Tristan's hips to the bed with the other, and the friction from his cock trapped against the mattress only amplified the pleasure and rocketed him toward release.
He gulped in quick, shallow breaths as his orgasm built, so close he could taste it, but then the pressure disappeared, leaving his hole empty and clenching, and he mewled with frustration.
The heat and weight of Cade's body disappeared, and he heard a snap and a wrapper crackle before three lube-coated fingers slid in, stretching him.
He needed this man to fuck him so badly that he was nearly hysterical. He wanted to beg some more, but his tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth, so only a low hum escaped.
"Eager, huh?" Cade taunted.
Tristan groaned, deep and throaty.
"What do you want, Tris?"
Willing to do anything to end this torment, he forced the words past his parched lips, "Fuck me, please."
Another chuckle. "So needy," Cade rumbled in a husky voice that made Tristan quiver with desire. "Such a slut for my cock."
At those words, he felt strong hands slide from his ass to his hips, then pull him to his knees, and before he could register what was happening, Cade thrust inside him quickly and brutally.
He screamed from both pain and relief but had no time to dwell on either because Cade started railing him, his fingers clawing into the meat of Tristan's hips.
The savage thrusts shoved him forward several inches, causing him to grunt every time his partner bottomed out, then rough hands cruelly jerked him back so far it pulled against the ties on his wrist.
Despite the pain or maybe because of it, the burning in Tristan's gut ignited and blazed hotter and brighter until he muttered, "So close, don't stop."
When Cade responded by pulling out and flipping him roughly onto his back, Tristan sobbed with despair, his chest heaving and his cock so painfully hard he was sure the barest contact would make him come.
He listened to the other man's quiet panting, smelled the sweat and sex, felt the damp sheets beneath him, but for several tense seconds, nothing happened.
Not caring how pathetic he sounded, he begged, "Cade, please fuck me. I need to come so bad."
The sound was so faint that Tristan might have missed it, had the blindfold not sharpened his hearing. But he was sure: a gasp, quiet and involuntary, had escaped Cade's lips.
"You're so fucking beautiful like this, Tris."
The words blanketed him with warmth from his hairline to the tips of his toes, but he didn't have time to revel in it, because Cade bent his thighs to his chest, draped over them and slid back home.
The feeling of being trapped, fully immobilized, was exhilarating, and this position resulted in the ideal angle for Cade's cockhead to drag over his prostate on every pass.
Tristan climbed again, fast and furious. "Yes, oh god, please let me come."
"You've been such a good boy, Tris. You can come now."
Tristan practically shouted with relief, but after a few seconds of waiting for a skilled hand to stroke him to completion, he became impatient.
"Cade, please touch me."
"You can come anytime, but you have to come on my cock."
Another growl of distress escaped from Tristan's throat. He was so close, he just needed a little stimulation, a little friction to his aching dick, and it would be enough.
"Come on, I wanna see you," Cade encouraged him.
"I can't... just... please," he pleaded, his voice scratchy.
"No, you can do it, baby. Just let it happen."
Tristan sucked in a wobbly breath and focused on the sensations around him: the rasp of Cade's shaky breaths, the slap of his balls against his ass, the feel of his sweat-slick chest gliding against his shins, and the invasion of his cock grazing his prostate with every stroke.
He strained, strung unbearably tight, and he felt his legs crushed even closer to his body when Cade leaned down to kiss him, hot and dirty, even as his thrusts never faltered.
Then whispered words tickled his ear, "Come for me, Tris."
It was something about the quiet, husky command, or maybe the idea of doing it for Cade, but Tristan's pleasure surged, coiling in his belly, tingling his spine, climbing until it snapped, cracking through him, sharp and inescapable.
His cock kicked, and he let out a long, tortured moan as Cade fucked him through it, murmuring that he was a good boy, that he had done well, that he was perfect.
He cried out, overwhelmed with euphoria, overpowered with emotion, overcome by a feeling dangerously close to ecstasy.
Or love.