All Kinds of Tied Down (24 page)

“If you want something, you tell me.”

“I always do.”

“Okay.”

“And you? What do you want?”

“I wanna be back inside you, but I think I need to slow down. How ’bout we talk some?”

He nodded, rolling sideways, propping himself up on his elbow, looking at me.

“I went to one of those clubs, you know.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You
know
,” he said pointedly.

I scooted closer, and he put a hand on my hip. “No, I really don’t.”

“A sex club.”

“What?”

“A BDSM club, to be exact.”

Shock tore through me, but I swallowed it down to keep it out of my voice. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Maneuvering closer, he took hold of my thigh and lifted it over his hip so that my hardening shaft slid along his. Having the sudden urge to hold him, I didn’t second-guess it and took him into my arms, tucked his face into the crook of my neck, and hugged him tight. His mouth opened against my throat; I was not proud of the mewling noise I made.

“How come you never did that before?” he asked quietly.

“Because I never thought you’d let me.”

He eased free of my arms. “You should’ve known better.”

And he was right. I should have, and would have, if I had been paying attention at all. As it was, I had been so wrapped up in my feelings that I had completely missed his.

Small things, like the way he gave everyone else space but me, how proprietary he was about all my things—from coffee cups in the office to books I loaned out—and how he never, ever, missed a chance to go anywhere with me if he could help it. Ian was my shadow, and I’d never seen it for what it really was.

“I’ve wanted to touch you,” he said hoarsely.

“You have no idea about wanting,” I replied, my voice rough.

His lip curled into a slight smile as he looked down the length of my body and watched his hand move over my chest, my abdomen, and finally lower to my swollen cock. “It felt different.”

“What?”

“You.”

“How do you mean?”

“Your skin, your hands… no one ever held me down before.”

Big question. “And was it okay?”

“Yeah, it was okay,” he groaned brokenly, shifting and settling over me, laying his head on my chest, and wrapping his arms under me.

God.

I was so done. If my life ended right then, I was good.

“You make the best noises.”

“Pardon me?” I hadn’t been listening.

“You do. Maybe you don’t think you do, but you do.”

“Not following.”

“I can tell you’re content right now ’cause of the noise you made.”

“Which was what?”

“Like purring.”

I scoffed, but he tightened his hold and I liked that. “Tell me about this club you went to. I wanna hear the story.”

“Well, there was a woman at the first one I went to, a dominatrix, yeah?”

“And?”

“I let her chain me up, and she had all these paddles and whips and stuff.”

“Ian, you’ve been hit enough in your life—tortured when you’ve been on missions—and you shouldn’t—”

“Who’s telling this story?”

I shut up but ran my hand over the raised scars on his back.

“I told her I changed my mind, and she was cool about it when I left.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Because I knew she couldn’t actually keep me there if I wanted out, and it’s not pain that does it for me,” he said, edging out of my embrace and rising as I shifted a bit, staring down into my face. “I mean I never got off when someone was torturing me or beating the shit outta me.”

I nodded quickly, swallowing my sympathy.

“I don’t like to be hurt—don’t wanna be.”

“Sure.”

He licked his lips nervously. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

It was all I had ever wanted, so
yes
, he could touch me, lick me, kiss me, bite me, hold me down, snuggle up into my shoulder—anything. Anything at all. I was simply desperately ready to accept all he offered. But the excitement and longing that roared through me would scare him to death if voiced. So I whispered instead. “You can do whatever you want.”

He traced a finger down the side of my cock before leaning close to examine me. “This is impressive, Miro. Not only long, but thick. No wonder you made sure I was ready, huh?”

“I made you ready because I would never treat you any other way,” I chided.

“And you liked doing it,” he said, his gaze snapping to mine, daring me to lie.

As if there was any question. “Yes.”

“Did I taste good when you blew me?”

“Yeah.”

“I wanna try,” he rumbled, bending over me, his tongue flicking over my cockhead.

“Wait,” I rasped, my breath stuttering.

“Why?”

“Put your hand around me so you don’t choke.”

He took the direction and licked and sucked, laving me with his tongue, swallowing the precum that dribbled from the head.

“It’s thick and salty, but it doesn’t taste bad.”

“All guys taste different,” I managed to get out.

He made a face. “Like I would know.”

“Do you want to?”

The half grin flipped my stomach over as he sat up, straddled my thighs. “I went to a gay club because I figured maybe that’s what I needed.”

Breathing was overrated, and I could hold out until I heard what he had to say.

“And I realized when I was in there that it turned me on.”

“What? The men?”

He shook his head.

“The submission,” I concluded.

“Yeah.”

“But not to a woman.”

“No.”

“Because a woman wouldn’t actually ever be strong enough to make you do anything.”

“Not without a weapon or something.”

“But that’s not what we’re talking about.”

“No.”

“The illusion of power won’t work for you.”

“No. It has to be real.”

“Okay, go on.”

“So this guy, he starts manhandling me and shoving me forward like he’s gonna belt me onto this St. Andrews’s Cross, and I’m thinking—yeah, he’ll have to have all those buckles and shit to keep me from moving. And there’s probably real ones that I couldn’t get out of. But I can see that it’s not riveted, so I can pull out the carpenter nails easy, flip it, do something. That wouldn’t hold me.”

That’s what Ian did, he analyzed everything.

“But I started thinking: it would take time for me to get out once he has me in it, and he can do whatever he wants in the meantime.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s the part I can’t have. No stranger puts their hands on me, that’s ingrained too deep.”

“You take women home from bars, Ian. They’re strangers and you fuck them.”

“Yeah, but I know names, and none of them could hurt me,” he explained. “Plus, I never sleep with any of them. I drive them home right after.”

“Emma slept over.”

“Because that lasted more than one night. And she hated sleeping over because she was afraid of Chickie.”

I smiled and he grinned back.

“Tell me about the Dom.”

“Well, so I gave him the go ahead to hurt me if he needed to, whatever he has to do to incapacitate me, right? He’s supposed to make me submit.”

Oh God. I was terrified to imagine what Ian had done. He wasn’t known for his patience. “You didn’t kill him accidentally, did you?”

He leaned over, hands on either side of my head on the mattress. “I put him in a sleeper hold and he passed out.”

I reached up and put my hands on each side of his neck. “You’re not supposed to hurt your Dom, Ian.”

“I didn’t hurt him,” he said hoarsely, swallowing fast as I smoothed my hands down his chest to his stomach, stroking gently until I reached his hard arching shaft. “And I paid him for his time.”

“I thought there was a safeword.”

“Yeah, I know, but I forgot it.”

“How do you forget the safeword?”

He shrugged.

“You didn’t think you’d need it, that’s why.”

“Probably.”

Only Ian.

“So,” I said, toppling him over, shoving him onto his back, grabbing the lube beside me. “Tell me what you learned from all that?” I notched against him, my dick sliding over his crease. “Ian?” I asked as I flipped the cap and squeezed lube over his cock.

“What’re you—”

“Tell me,” I insisted, coating his cock and my fingers at the same time before snapping the tube shut and tossing it out of our way. “What conclusion did you come to?”

He drove himself into my slippery fist, mouth open, eyes closed, letting his head tip sideways. He pressed his temple against my forehead when I leaned down.

“Ian,” I coaxed gently, sucking his earlobe into my mouth.

“Isn’t it…. Miro,” he pleaded, “I know you know.”

“But you can’t skimp on the words this time, you gotta say it.”

He inhaled sharply. “I want to be held down by someone who could actually hurt me—”

“And?” I pried, needing more from him because it was important, because it would ground both of us.

“—but never would.”

It was me, only me, and we both knew it. The only person in the world he was completely himself with, whom he trusted implicitly, was the one in bed with him. “I would never hurt you,” I promised, placing his hand on his cock before I pulled away just enough so I could smear the excess lube on mine. “And you know that.”

“I do.”

He was safe with me, and no one else could make him feel that way because I had nurtured this relationship for the past three years, as had he. “You have to be honest.”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I said, pressing two slick fingers to his entrance. “Tell me if you’re sore.”

“I’m good.”

Entering slowly, I twisted and pushed, rubbing circles until his muscles softened and gave, kissing down the side of his neck.

“You’re not giving your dick any attention,” I reminded him.

“What’re you gonna do?”

“If it won’t hurt you, I wanna fuck you like this.”

Deep sigh from him. “Yeah, do that.”

Slipping my fingers free, I notched against his entrance and then slid steadily forward.

“Miro.” My name in his throaty whisper sent stinging heat through me, and I forgot the careful and the slow and shoved in in one long smooth glide.

The noise he made was a moan and a cry wrapped up together. It terrified me. “Ian?”

“It feels like that every time?”

The awe in his voice restarted my heart. “Yes,” I answered, slipping out only to ram back in, making sure he felt every motion of my cock grinding over his gland.

“Fuck!”

I pumped in and out, lifting his leg and holding his quivering thigh in my hand.

“Kiss me.” I snapped out the command, and he strained to sit up enough that I could devour his mouth.

He broke the kiss for breath, and when he did, I pulled out. His yell surprised me, and when I moved to the edge of the bed, he tackled me, crossing my wrists over my head and holding me down with one hand, the other on my chest.

“Why would you stop?”

“Put one foot on the floor,” I directed, “and then lower yourself down on top of me. You’re strong enough, you can do that.”

He nodded, doing as I said, braced himself over me, one hand buried in my hair, the other at my side as he held me there before I shoved up inside him.

“God, Miro, I’m so full.”

“It’s different with this angle,” I said, hands on his thighs, holding him tight as I slid out and then pistoned up into him.

His mouth fell open and there was no sound, only him obviously feeling, panting, the sensations overwhelming as I did it again and again, not stopping, wanting only to be inside him. I was lost in the action—nothing else mattered.

“Miro!”

He spurted over my chest and abdomen, and I pulled him down, impaling him on my cock as I came deep inside his body seconds later.

I checked out for long minutes, the white that exploded behind my eyes not easy to simply climb out of. Like always, though, once I became aware of where I was, I felt the weight of his stare. The deep, dark blue was really something to see.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said as I realized that unless he moved, I couldn’t.

“I need to clean you up.”

“Let’s take a shower, change, and go get our witness.”

“No nap?” I whined without meaning to.

“No nap,” he said, curling over me. “But I’ll feed ya.” Again he lifted my arms above my head, this time each wrist pinned to the mattress as he hovered close. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I said, unable to control my grin.

“We’re gonna have to talk at some point.”

“About?” I asked, almost gasping as the muscles in his ass flexed, sending a twinge of pain along my oversensitized nerve endings. Softening inside of him sounded hot, but it was actually uncomfortable.

“This, obviously.”

I stared up at him and noticed his red, swollen lips, hooded eyes, and the marks all over him. No way to miss that he’d been ravaged. “Like what?”

“Like,” he replied, tightening his hands on my wrists, his thighs around my hips. “Will we do this when we get home?”

He posed the question, at the same time testing if I’d let him hold me down. In answer, I yanked my right arm out of his grip, and before he could grab me again, I dropped my left foot onto the floor and kicked off, giving me enough momentum and leverage to roll him to his back and pin him beneath me. The entire maneuver was fast, jarring, and most of all, forceful. I didn’t miss his sharp inhale.

“I want to,” I answered before dropping down beside him and drawing him to me, sliding his leg over my hip so we were plastered together, joined everywhere. “But we don’t need to say it right this second.”

“I think we do.”

Oh. “Do you? Want to?”

“Where would we be?” he casually asked instead of answering, even though his eyes betrayed him, flickering with concern, searching mine.

I knew him, his tells. He was waiting for any hesitation from me. I barreled forward instead. “You could hang with me at my place whenever you want, and bring Chickie. You already have a key.”

“Yeah,” he agreed thoughtfully.

“And I could sleep over at your place once I get my hazmat suit back from the dry cleaner.”