Chapter 34 #2
“Watch,” Ian ordered him, reaching for something on the floor.
It looked like a cock ring. Then Ian pulled down gently on Sam’s sac, shooting sharp jolts up into his stomach and making him gasp.
Something in his gut was alarmed at the feel of his testicles being handled this way, but that sensation he always had—that he was sort of tensed up—felt like it was unraveling.
Like a cramped muscle finally getting stretched out.
The leather strap snapped snug around the top of Sam’s balls, next to his body. He jerked his head off the wall and bowed his back like a pissed-off cat. “Fuck!”
“Just give it a minute,” Ian said, rubbing circles on Sam’s thighs. “Let yourself get used to it.”
Sam trembled and waited, eyes closed, trying to concentrate on Ian’s hands massaging him and failing miserably.
Shocks still arced through him, not so much pain as alarms that soon started settling down, tapering off.
Becoming more a heightened awareness. The feeling of unraveling and relaxing got stronger at the same time, leaving him with a sense of frozen tension, hypersensitizing his nerves.
When Ian breathed softly on his nuts, Sam nearly came out of his skin. “Don’t stop,” he begged when Ian stood up.
“Slaves don’t give orders,” Ian growled, and Sam cracked his eyelids to see Ian staring at him stonily.
“Oh,” Sam whispered. “Yeah, I’m your property.” He arched his back, focused on the strange feeling in his testicles, which vibrated with so much sensation he felt like they might start spontaneously resonating.
Ian looked like he was trying not to smile. “Now I get to claim you.”
With supreme effort, Sam held still. “God, please,” he groaned.
“Should I tie you down, boy? You might run if I don’t.”
Sam whimpered. In fear, of course. “I’m thinking about running.” So you can chase me.
Ian stepped back. “Run!”
Sam blinked in surprise, then pushed off the wall and darted for the door.
Even with a head start, Sam only made it to the hall before Ian tackled him, his full weight pressing Sam into the cool, wood floor.
He grabbed Sam’s wrists and stretched his arms over his head, then trapped Sam’s legs with his own, grinding into Sam’s ass.
Sam could feel rough wool against part of his ass and his lower back.
Through the scratchy fabric, Ian’s dick was rock hard and rubbing across one of Sam’s cheeks. Sam pushed back with his hips.
“Good boy,” Ian rasped in his ear. Shivers ran down Sam’s back.
Ian transferred both wrists to one hand, then shoved his free hand between them, yanking up his kilt enough to slide skin against skin, adding to the overall sensory charge.
He moved his hips in slow circles, then paused a second to shove his hand under Sam’s pelvis and grip Sam’s cock.
The contrast of Ian’s hot hand on his dick and the smooth, cool floor tugging on his balls made Sam’s eyes cross.
Ian groaned and stilled. Sam shoved back into him, arching his back. “Ian,” he begged, terrified Ian was stopping. “Please.”
“Shut up, boy,” Ian growled. And in his regular voice, “We can’t do this here, kiddo.”
“Once you catch me you have to fuck me, no delays,” Sam panted, drooling on the floorboards under his cheek, thrusting his dick against Ian’s palm as much as he could. Feeling the skin of Ian’s cock pulling and shifting against his ass. “It’s a rule.”
Ian laughed in surprise and let go of Sam’s shaft.
Sam had a moment of eye-popping panic until Ian pulled his hand out and worked his fingers in between Sam’s ass cheeks, pulling on the plug.
Sam moaned from his gut as Ian slid it out, then quivered when Ian lined up his cock.
Shuddered and tensed when he felt the touch of Ian’s glans against him, slipping in the excessive lube he’d used.
When Ian slid through Sam’s sphincter, there wasn’t any pain, just that fucking fantastic stretching feeling. Sam keened for more, but Ian clamped his hips down and held Sam still. “Wait,” he panted. “You’ve never done this before.”
Sam laughed, and Ian leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Pretend,” he whispered in Sam’s ear.
“’Kay,” Sam whispered back. “Burns. Feels so good. I never knew—”
“Quiet boy,” Ian said in his laird voice. He worked himself deeper into Sam, who moaned and wailed and tried to push back onto Ian’s cock, but the way Ian’s legs pinned his thighs made it impossible. When Ian’s head rubbed against Sam’s prostate, Sam lost his breath.
“Deeper, Ian,” he moaned when he got it back.
“Call me master,” Ian said. For a second Sam, froze. They’d never done that, and he didn’t know if he wanted to go there. “Pretend,” Ian reminded him. He held still above Sam, his voice coming through clenched teeth, halfway in Sam’s ass. Sam could feel his own heartbeat thudding around Ian’s cock.
Sam swallowed. “Deeper, master.” When he said the word, his muscles clenched around Ian, who shuddered and pushed in deeper, finally sliding in the last inch or two all at once.
They lay there panting together, Ian’s body weighing Sam down.
The floor wasn’t cold anymore, it was hot and slick with sweat, but Sam was shaking. “So deep.”
“Too deep? Don’t let me hurt you,” Ian said in his ear, then bit his lobe lightly.
Sam shivered. “No. Fuck me,” he whined, rocking his hips.
Ian rasped Sam’s cheek with the whiskers on his chin.
“Gonna, kiddo. Just hang on, I’ll take care of you.
Gonna give you what you need.” He started grinding, circling his hips.
Pushing himself in and out by fractions of an inch.
Sam gasped and clenched his hands in Ian’s grip, arching his hips off the floor, fighting to get his legs free because he needed it as deep as Ian could go. Needed to expose himself totally.
He must have said that out loud, because Ian was making promises again.
“Gonna make you scream, Sam. Make you beg. Fuck you so deep.” Ian released Sam’s legs, letting him spread them wide to feel Ian deeper.
Hotter and slicker than ever, every single movement sending shock waves out from his ass, resonating in his balls.
When he struggled to get his knees under him and thrust his ass up for Ian, wanting to be completely open, Ian said in a growly sort of purr, “There’s my slutty boy. You’re my slut, Sam, aren’t you?”
Sam gasped, muscles clenching, and shoved himself back into Ian. “I’m your slut. Harder, Ian. More.”
Ian started to pump his hips, his balls swinging and crashing into Sam’s and making him wail.
The cry spurred Ian on. He thrust harder, hitting Sam’s guiche.
Sam couldn’t even catch his breath to beg, but whatever he was managing was enough for Ian.
Ian’s hand slid down from Sam’s hip around to his dick, sweeping up the pre-cum and sweat, gripping him hard, letting him slide in and out of Ian’s fist
“Turn your head,” Ian panted. “Wanna see your face.” Sam did, laying his cheek on the floor and thrusting his hips back, trying to tell Ian to take what he wanted.
All of it. Fill him up. “Yeah, kiddo. Love that. You’re so close.
” Ian thrust harder, his balls slapping, friction from his cock in Sam’s ass hot enough to start a fire.
Sam’s orgasm built behind his nuts, fed by the two of them slapping together.
He started mindless, begging babble. “PleaseIanohfuckpleaseIan.”
“There you go, kiddo, come for me,” Ian said, twisting his hand and shoving in deeper than Sam thought possible.
Sam screamed his lungs out, shooting cum out onto the floor and Ian’s hand, toes curling, ass convulsing.
He had that crazy, unraveling feeling in his balls, ricocheting through his dick and his ass, his whole body getting in on the act, everything coming together to let go.
Thrusting himself back instinctively, trying to get Ian deeper for that last, extra sensation.
Ian fucked him hard and fast through it, then shoved into him once more and held there.
“Jesus, Sam,” he groaned, grinding his hips right up against Sam’s ass.
Sam felt the rush of warm cum inside him, and it felt better than ever.
Ian stroked lazily a few times while Sam gasped with aftershocks, his legs jerking.
Fuck, that felt amazing.
Slowly, they came down, Ian murmuring to him.
The kilt trapped between them became itchy rather than stimulating.
“Oh, fuck, Sam, that was . . . Oh fuck.” Ian kept whispering variations on that theme for a minute or two, then they lay there quietly, Ian rasping the back of Sam’s neck with his cheek and chin, then kissing and licking him.
“Need to take that ball stretcher off,” Ian mumbled.
“Not good to leave that thing on you too long your first time.” When he pulled out, it really felt different.
Ian unsnapped the leather strap, and Sam yelped when the nerve endings in his nuts started lodging protests.
He scrunched his eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath, trying not to curl up into a ball.
The sensation settled down soon. It felt like his foot waking up after falling asleep, except it wasn’t his foot, it was his testicles. Big difference. Ian rubbed gentle circles on his back until Sam relaxed again. “You okay, kiddo?”
Sam exhaled long and slow. “Yeah, think so. Just sorta shocking.”
“You ever gonna want to wear that again?”
Sam opened his eyes and turned to look at Ian’s face. He looked like it might really matter to him. “I could do that again. The feeling when it’s on is worth it.” Even after everything they’d just done, he blushed admitting it.
Ian smiled at him. “Good. You looked sexy with it on. Next time I want you to see yourself in the mirror.” Ian kissed his cheek. “You gangle.”
“’Kay,” Sam sighed happily, laying his cheek back down on the floor and closing his eyes. Ian chuckled, but lay next to him, half on him and half off, rubbing his back.
And sheesh, his nuts really did feel different. Was it the hairless thing? Sam thought about it, trying to pin down the sensation.
Ian kissed between his eyebrows. “You must be thinking hard,” he murmured. “You have that line between your brows.”
“I’m trying to figure out why it feels so different. Maybe it’s the cum drying on my—Ian!” Sam’s eyes popped open, and his head shot off the floor.
Ian froze at his cry. “What?” he asked, alert and still. Like maybe Sam had seen a burglar. Or a mouse.
Sam groaned and pounded his forehead against the floor once. “No condom.”
Ian went suddenly limp. “Fuck.”
They didn’t talk about it, not right away.
Sam couldn’t make himself look as Ian pushed himself off the floor, then pulled Sam up by his wrist, leading him to bed.
“Get in, kiddo,” he said softly, watching as Sam lay down and pulled the blankets up.
Then he walked around the bed, losing his kilt on the way, and crawled in on the other side.
Sam felt him scooting under the blankets until he was there and warm and wrapping Sam up. Pulling Sam’s head onto his shoulder.
It was hard not to feel loved when Ian did this.
Sam had to fight it with everything in him.
He could have the romance novel sex fantasies (’cause Ian was clearly superlative at fulfilling those), but he had to keep reminding himself that while Ian may have feelings, he might never come through on the Big Declaration.
Sam couldn’t count on, “I love you, I can’t live without you.
You complete me.” Or even just, “You’ll do. ”
So this no condom thing? That was a potential problem. Not like a romance novel problem. There would be no unplanned pregnancy that would force Ian to offer marriage and keep them in close proximity until the scales fell from his eyes and he realized Sam made his heart beat.
There was no HIV trope. Sam wracked his brain, but he couldn’t come up with a single literary example of a sexually transmitted disease morphing into true love. He was pretty sure sexually transmitted diseases were a no-no in Romancelandia, even for evil exes.
That was what he should be worried about, right?
The possibility of getting something from Ian.
Except he knew Ian hadn’t been with anyone for a long time before they got together, and he was all but positive Ian hadn’t been with anyone since they’d met.
Sam certainly didn’t have anything to give to Ian.
Not only was he practically a monk for months before they met, but he’d been tested twice since he and Marley broke up.
“I haven’t been with anyone except you since before my accident,” Ian said.
“I know,” Sam whispered, swirling his fingers in Ian’s chest hair. He sighed.
They lay there quietly a few seconds until Ian jostled him, like he was expecting something from Sam. He lifted his head and looked at Ian.
Ian swallowed. “What about you?”
Sam blinked. Holy shit, Ian was worried he’d been with someone else? “I haven’t been with anyone for over a year. I blew a guy at a party after Marley and I broke up, but I used a condom.”
“So,” Ian took a breath. “No one except me?”
Sam put his hand on Ian’s cheek and stroked his thumb across Ian’s lips. “No,” he said, then kissed him. “I was tested a few months ago; I’m clean.”
Ian closed his eyes in apparent relief. “Me too.” He reached for the back of Sam’s head and fisted his hair gently.
Sam’s heart beat a little harder. “We could . . . not use condoms. Promise not to be with other people.”
“Yeah.” Ian stared at him. “We could do that.” He slid his fingers around Sam’s chin and pulled him closer for another kiss. “I want that with you,” he said into Sam’s mouth.
Sam cracked the door in his heart and let himself feel a bit loved. Not just liked or desired—and yes, he believed Ian desired him—but loved.
It was possible.