Chapter 15
ZACH
Miles’s salty taste coated Zach’s tongue while his mind raced, half-formed thoughts scattering in every direction like a swarm of angry hornets. It was a dream come true, but what did it mean for their friendship?
“Relax,” Miles whispered between ragged breaths. “I got you.” Sweet and caring, as always, not a hint of panic or regret in his voice.
Before Zach could breathe a sigh of relief, Miles slithered down, his warm hand wrapping around Zach’s shaft and sliding with slow determination.
After a few strokes, Miles added a twist at the top and lightly pinched the tip between his fingers.
Pleasure traveled up Zach’s spine, echoing through his hard nipples and spreading goosebumps across his skin.
He groaned and tugged against the cuffs. The headboard rattled, loud and unyielding, and its resistance eased something inside him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t choose, could only float on the soft cloud of helplessness and let Miles take the reins.
“More!”
The word ripped out on a sob. He needed Miles to go faster, to make him come before he went delirious with need. Miles chuckled, not deviating from the leisurely pace, keeping Zach on edge without letting him reach the peak. His gaze roved over Zach’s exposed skin, not missing an inch.
“You’re so beautiful right now,” Miles murmured.
“All spread out with my come in your mouth, letting me do whatever I want to you. Completely mine.” Miles emphasized his point by squeezing tight and increasing the speed, his firm grip flying up and down in small bursts of pain and ecstasy.
Zach had been so close that it didn’t take long before he convulsed and shouted his release.
Miles didn’t falter for a single moment, using Zach’s come as lube to continue the punishing pace and milk Zach dry.
With his balls completely drained and his dick slowly softening in Miles’s hand, Zach expected him to stop and undo the restraints. As much as he wasn’t looking forward to it, they needed to clean up and talk about what happened.
Except Miles kept going. The bone-melting bliss of Zach’s orgasm gave way to an uncomfortable pressure, small at first but quickly turning overwhelming and intense, impossible to ignore.
“Too sensitive,” he choked out, trying to scramble away. It was a pointless endeavor. Attached to the headboard, pinned down by Miles’s large body, he had nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape.
“Mmm, yeah,” Miles hummed in sympathy. “I can imagine.”
The realization dawned that Miles wasn’t going to stop. Brutal pressure built with a savage, aching heat, flooding every vein, reverberating through his body until he was raw, quivering, on the edge of breaking.
It was too much and somehow not enough.
He was hard again, but painfully tender, and every instinct urged him to escape Miles’s rough touch. Zach struggled, fighting the soft leather with increased violence as tension coiled inside him like fire, pulsing under his skin, threatening to overtake him.
“Miles!”
Miles slowed and met his agitated gaze with a neutral expression. “You have a safeword. Use it if you want to stop.”
It danced on the tip of his tongue. One syllable, three little letters, and this would be over. Miles would let go of his overstimulated dick, and all of it—the burning, the tightly coiled muscles, the overbearing need—would disappear.
The thought didn’t bring as much relief as he’d expected.
He didn’t want to stop. He just needed to know he could.
“Zee?” Miles prompted, right on cue. The torturous friction eased, and disappointment flooded his chest.
“Green,” he choked out. He couldn’t manage a full sentence, but it was enough.
A sly grin spread across Miles’s face as he sped up with merciless force.
Alternating waves of ecstasy and agony dragged Zach under, stealing his breath.
He welcomed it, floating on air until it was someone else trembling from head to toe, moaning through sweet torment, sobbing Miles’s name.
It was then that he surrendered the last of his control, every muscle going lax.
Miles must have noticed and changed tactics, dipping down to suck Zach into his mouth and forming a seal with his lips.
This was nothing like the earlier gentle worship—no soft licks, no graceful swirls of the tongue, no careful suction.
No, this was Miles doing his best to draw Zach’s soul out of his body through his dick.
Zach squirmed and gasped, trapped in the hurricane of sensation.
Too much. It was too much. Was it possible to pass out from an aggressive blowjob?
He would find out any second.
Miles trailed his fingers up Zach’s stomach and pinched his nipples hard enough to bruise, tugging and twisting.
At the same time, his teeth grazed against the sensitive underside in a crisp, sharp bite of pain, and it was all over.
Zach shattered into jagged shards of relentless ecstasy and searing torment.
Every fiber of his being burned to ashes until he was unraveled, exhausted, an empty husk.
Through the blurry static in his head, he could feel soft fingers undoing his cuffs and rubbing soothing circles on his wrists, but didn’t react until Miles leaned close to ask if he was okay, concern coloring his voice.
Zach blinked open and gave him a wobbly smile. It would be a few minutes before he could form words again.
Miles rushed to the bathroom, reappearing with a damp washcloth and gently wiping him down. Each movement was a light caress, the polar opposite of the violent onslaught that came before.
It was almost impossible to believe that he was the same person.
After cleaning him, he curled up beside Zach and started petting his hair. It was the most adorable attempt at aftercare, and a happy giggle bubbled out of Zach.
The other man let out a questioning hum and massaged his scalp. “What’s funny?”
“I like that your aftercare method is the same as making friends with a cat.”
Miles barked out a laugh. “Hush. This is new to me.”
“Could have fooled me.” Zach yawned. “I’m good. That wasn’t so overwhelming that I need aftercare.”
The pressure eased, but Miles’s fingers remained buried in Zach’s hair, as if hesitant to let go.
“Miles, I promise I’m fine. That was pretty intense, and I’m a little hazy, but I’m not gonna subdrop. You can go take a shower.”
In the dying candlelight, Miles pulled him closer and placed a lingering kiss on his temple. “What if I need it?”
Shit. He didn’t think about that. As shocking as this experience had been for Zach, it had to be a million times more overwhelming for Miles. He’d lost his virginity, participated in his first scene, and had his first gay experience all at once.
No wonder he needed aftercare. Zach felt like a giant asshole for blowing it off.
“Come here,” he cooed in Miles’s ear, gathering him against his chest. “You’re okay.”
As he murmured soft reassurances, his hand traced slow paths up and down Miles’s spine until his breathing steadied. He was either asleep or completely relaxed, and Zach was satisfied with either option. Both prolonged his limbo.
He was scared of the conversation that was sure to follow.
Miles seemed fine now, with the gay thing and the BDSM thing, but he could change his mind after thinking about it.
It wouldn’t be the first time. A lot of his hookups thought that a bit of a Dom/sub dynamic would be hot, but most of them treated him differently afterward.
Some tried to build up his confidence because, in their minds, his desire to lose control somehow equaled a lack of respect for himself.
Others were total assholes, going on a power trip and bossing him around.
Maybe that wouldn’t happen if he’d gone to a kink club and met some real Doms—but Zach had zero interest in that scene.
All he wanted was to be tied up and used every once in a while before reverting to his perfectly vanilla self.
It was weird that most people he’d fucked saw this as some kind of character flaw.
Would the same thing happen again? Would Miles lose respect for him or try to fix him?
Worries swirled in his mind without taking root.
Somewhere deep inside, in a place he couldn’t quite access, Zach knew that Miles wouldn’t think anything was wrong with him.
Miles would never do anything to upset him.
Not directly. He couldn’t be blamed for Zach’s own secret desires, his aching heart, or the fact that after having a taste of Miles, Zach was ruined for all other men.
If all this turned out to be a one-off experiment, Zach would be absolutely crushed.
But he wouldn’t blame Miles.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the soft vibration of Miles’s heartbeat. Before the night slipped away, he needed to replay the highlights in his mind. He needed to remember every second, every detail, every sly smile and teasing touch.
In case it never happened again.
* * *
The next time Zach opened his eyes, he was tucked under the comforter, and the room was pitch-black. He sensed movement and rolled over to see Miles’s vague shadow pace around the kitchen, dim light emanating from the phone pressed to his ear.
“And what, you’re just waiting?” Miles spoke in a low, tense voice. He was agitated, but there was a hint of vulnerability to his words, like his voice was about to break. “Yes, of course. Yes. First thing in the morning. Okay. See you soon.”
The pacing stopped. Zach sat on the edge of the mattress and squinted into the darkness, barely making out Miles’s silhouette. He was leaning on the kitchen counter, his face buried in his hands.
“What’s wrong?” Zach’s voice was rough and scratchy from sleep, and he had to clear his throat. “Miles?”
Miles hadn’t acknowledged him, remaining completely still. This was bad. Late-night calls could only mean one thing—an emergency.
Zach’s heart raced. He loved Miles’s family like his own, dysfunctional and overbearing as they were at times. He was almost afraid to ask who it was.