Bad Things (37 page)

“
I need you to be nice and quiet while I do this. We don’t have the luxury of the privacy of the basement, now. And I didn’t bring the ball gag. If you’re too noisy, I’ll get your underwear and stuff those in your mouth.”

God, what the fuck was wrong with him, that Xavier saying those things made his cock start aching twice as intensely?

Xavier spread Carson’s cheeks, staring at his hole. Just to embarrass him? To drive that rush of blood to his face and his balls? Or because it thrilled him, too? Cool wet tip of the toy nudging at him, Xavier’s gaze rising to his face as he dilated him with the dildo, then looking down again as it slid inside of him.

Fuck. That grin. “There. That makes me feel better. How about you?”

Xavier, rapt as he teased Carson’s hole with the toy, watching as he twisted and pulsed it in and out, then taking in Carson’s arousal and humiliation at being strung up, spread open, and drilled with the thing in Xavier’s hand.

“
Better. But we should really fill that hole properly, shouldn’t we?”

Carson gasped as Xavier pulled the toy free of his ass. Sitting on his haunches, Xavier got a condom on and lubed up his massive erection, three times the size of the toy he’d been fucking him with. Even now, even though he’d handled it twice before, the anticipation of being penetrated by Xavier’s cock drove a thrill of fear through Carson.

“Remember. Quiet. Unless you want Porter to hear me fucking you. He’s right in the next room.”

Not bending over him, just kneeling there by his ass, Xavier grasped the base of his cock and pressed the fat head up against Carson’s hole. Then that pressure, that shocking dilation and yielding of his muscles as Xavier gradually pushed inside him. Carson bit down on his lips to muffle a whimper.

“There. Now your hole is really filled. No room to spare, hmmm?”

Taking hold of Carson’s hips in both hands, locking eyes with him, Xavier drew back and thrust home. Carson barely managed to contain a yelp.

“Did I hurt you?” Xavier’s tone wasn’t concern. “Answer me,” a quiet demand.

Carson shook his head, and Xavier thrust home again, a jolt of shocking sensation exploding outward from the point of impact deep in Carson’s body. Blood flooding his aching balls, his pulsating cock, already so hard and swollen it was beyond bearing.

When Xavier thrust again, Carson couldn’t hold back the cry that came rushing out of his lungs. Xavier pounced, wrapping one hand around his throat, tightening it as he thrust again, then again, until no sound came out of Carson’s mouth but the hollow rasp of his panicked breath. But
Jesus, Jesus,
even that wild terror amplified the thrill of Xavier rutting over him, that unbearable sudden drilling and filling of his hole again and again.

“
There. That’s better. I can keep you quiet, and I can still do this.”

Sucking Carson’s lips, licking his tongue, Xavier went on fucking, hard and urgent. One hand on Carson’s ass, Xavier forced his hips to tilt, and on the next thrust Carson convulsed in a long, silent howl of terrible pleasure.

Xavier growled a low laugh. “Fuck, my beautiful nasty. You can’t stop any of it, can you? I force you to give me your hole, and now I’m going to force you to come while I fuck you. I just wish I could hear you screaming for it.”

Humping, rapid, shallow penetrations, the tip of his cock ramming away at the exquisitely sensitive knot of nerves tethered to Carson’s balls and cock, Xavier bit and licked and sucked his lips, his tongue, his voiceless cries of brutal pleasure.

Fuck, Christ
, it hit fast, so hard it knocked the breath from his lungs, the cruel seizure wrenching everything out of him, and Xavier kept reaming his hole, jackhammering that magic spot as Carson erupted hot and sticky between them.

Xavier’s hand slipped from his throat, and clutching his ass in both hands, slowing his rhythm, Xavier thrust deep, hard.

“Soon. It’s almost over,” he whispered, tenderly, cruelly, and in his post-orgasmic euphoria Carson’s head swam in the murky cloud of the thrill of that ugly taunt, and the sadness that it couldn’t keep going on forever: Xavier’s desperate, rutting thrusts, the slip and slide of their sweaty bodies rubbing together, smearing the slick of semen spreading over their bellies and chests as they moved, the wet probing of Xavier’s tongue between his lips.

Xavier’s snarling howl seeped between white, clenched, carnivore’s teeth, his greedy gaze trying to consume Carson’s soul like sacrificial blood. The last, slow, drilling pulses of Xavier’s erupting cock.

Xavier’s mysterious, inevitable ritual, licking him clean, as if the mess on his torso contained precious nutrients or mysterious magic that would be sinful to waste. Kissing him intermittently, tasting of semen. Carson thought he’d make him lick off his chest and belly in turn, but Xavier went into the bathroom, and through the door he left open Carson could see him wetting a washcloth and wiping himself down.

When he came back, he gazed down at Carson for a few seconds, then went over to the pile of clothes on the floor, picked up Carson’s pants, and fished his room key out of the front pocket. He set the card down on the night stand, then started untying him.

“You should go back to your room. Get some sleep. It’s late.”

As he got dressed, Carson’s hands shook, because of how his wrists had been bound. Circulation reduced, because he’d been straining against the belt the whole time Xavier had been fucking him. Because he didn’t understand what was going on.

Xavier put on his pants, and picked up the key card. With a teasing grin that didn’t match the somber look in his eyes, he said, “This way I can come see you when I’m in the mood.”

So, what? He was a prisoner again? He’d be trapped in his room, wondering when Xavier would appear, and what he’d do to him when he did? Fine. It didn’t matter. He’d go to the concierge, say he’d lost his key, and get a new one. They’d change the electronic code, and the key Xavier had taken from him would be useless. Let him keep it.

Xavier walked him down the hall, and when he opened the door to Carson’s room he said, “Take a shower before you get in bed. You reek of sex.”

What had Carson wanted? A good-night kiss? A hug? A cuddle? Like with Dario and Aidan? He felt stupidly confused when Xavier just turned away and walked back down the hall to his room, and disappeared.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Even if he’d cheated himself out of happiness ever since he’d caved in and played the good little straight boy for Daddy and Mommy, even if Xavier had been the first man who’d ever touched him, how sick was it that he’d gotten out of that basement in one piece, and just turned around and put himself back in the hands of the man who’d choked him unconscious and handcuffed him to a post in his basement? Who’d stripped him naked and terrorized him for three days? Why had he let Dario’s diagnosis of things convince him this was even partly healthy? Good? When obviously Dario had thought they were talking about something else. Not him being assaulted and held hostage.

And Xavier
wasn’t
the only one who’d touched him. Dario had touched him. Kissed him. Fucked him. Held him. Aidan, too. Carson knew what it felt like to be cared for. Even if they loved each other so much there wasn’t really room for him in that life, they’d given him a warm, lingering look at what it could be like to be in love. To be loved.

So why was Xavier all he thought about? All he jerked off to? Why was he reluctant to take a shower, because his skin smelled of Xavier, and he wanted to sleep wrapped in the scent of him, if he couldn’t sleep in his bed.

But he did get in the shower, not sure if it was to wash away his own self-destructive irrationality, or because Xavier had told him to. He washed away the traces of semen and saliva and Xavier’s sweat from his skin, then went to bed. The same self-loathing, self-pitying thoughts tumbled around and around in his brain until it started to get light outside

He was woken by the phone ringing on the bedside table. When he picked up, expecting the recorded alarm sent through from the front desk, Xavier’s voice said, “Come to my room in ten minutes.”

Of course he went. Heart thumping sickeningly hard, even though he kept telling himself there was no time for Xavier to get carried away, since they were due in court, and they were supposed to meet Detective Porter in the dining room for breakfast in less than an hour.

When Xavier opened the door, before Carson could will it to fix on his face, his gaze slid from Xavier’s naked chest down to his erect cock, discernible in embarrassing, rousing detail through his tight black briefs. Xavier just stood there, taking his time appraising whatever he was seeing in Carson’s face, in his eyes. Then he touched Carson’s cheek and said in a voice that was almost tender, “Didn’t you get any sleep last night?”

Carson shrugged, but when Xavier kept staring into him he said, “I’m not sure. I think I fell asleep for an hour or two.”

“
Then I didn’t do my job wearing you out last night. I’ll do better tonight.”

It felt like a threat, even though Xavier’s tone made it sound like he was offering to do him a favor. He drew Carson inside, then closed the door.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Fuck, he was tired of that echo endlessly bouncing around in his head. Even while his erection started coming on, just because Xavier had wrapped one huge hand around his arm and was pulling him toward the bed. No, toward the armchair next to the bathroom door.

Facing him, still holding his arm, Xavier said, “I wake up hard every morning. Do you?”

Not knowing why he was answering, why he was still playing Xavier’s games, Carson said, “Yes.” Then he watched as Xavier plunged three fingers deep into his own mouth, then as they emerged wet and glistening with his saliva. Then Xavier released his arm and took hold of his jaw, thumb prying on the right, fingers prying on the left until he’d forced Carson’s mouth open, and he pushed his three spit-soaked fingers into his mouth. Startled, almost gagging, Carson grunted, cock stiffening as Xavier weirdly, incongruously, tenderly kissed Carson’s upper lip, barely sucking, lightly licking.

Keeping his fingers stuffed deep in Carson’s mouth, Xavier released his jaw, planted his hand on his shoulder, and pushed him down onto his knees. Then he sank down in the armchair and, watching Carson’s face, pulled his briefs aside, letting his hard cock spring free and his balls flop out onto the cushion. Fuck. That tableau was infinitely more obscene than it would have been if Xavier had been sitting there erect and naked.

Was it dread or want making his heart race while he waited for Xavier to grab his hair and pull him onto his dick? Anxious anticipation making him pant, embarrassment making him blush, Carson waited, but Xavier didn’t move. Didn’t issue any order. He just sat there, staring at him, as if he was testing him. Because obviously Carson knew what he wanted.

And then he said, “You should get started. Porter’s going to be here soon, and if you’re not done by the time he gets here, I’m going to let him watch.”

Was he fucking serious? Of course he was. He was Xavier. Fucking crazy. Fucking capable of anything.

“
When he knocks, and doesn’t hear an answer because I won’t say anything, and your mouth will be too full of cock to make a noise, he’s going to worry something’s wrong, and let himself in with his key card. So unless you’re in an exhibitionistic mood, I’d get going, if I were you.”

Fuck
. He was as fucked up as Xavier, those threats turning his wood to steel.

Heart thumping, dick throbbing, holding Xavier’s gaze, Carson leaned forward, licked his lips, and gave the head of Xavier’s cock a wet kiss. Started licking. Sucking, the smell and taste of Xavier, the feel of that velvety flesh in his mouth making Carson’s dick ache painfully.

“Jesus Christ,” Xavier groaned. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

Carson stopped.

Xavier let out a pained laugh. “Sorry if that was ambiguous. I was paying you a compliment. Keep going.”

Fuck, it did something to him—made his dick pulse and jump, but did something inside his chest, too—the way Xavier was sighing, almost like he was sobbing as Carson worked his cock with his mouth. At first, trying to suck him the way Dario had given him head, remembering all his techniques, but then instinct took over and he was just eating him, more driven to satiate his hunger for the feel of Xavier’s hard girth filling his mouth than fretful about gagging and choking.

When he went down on his balls, Xavier hissed, sucking air through clenched teeth, and raked his fingers over Carson’s scalp. After that, when he was back on his cock, it didn’t take long, just another minute or two of pulsing sucking, like he was trying to vacuum Xavier’s massive cock right down his throat and into his belly, he was so hungry.

Xavier growled out, “Jesus, Jesus,” bucking, cock seizing against Carson’s tongue. As the first flood of viscous semen filled his throat, Xavier kept grunting as Carson’s throat contracted around the crown of his cock as he struggled to keep up with the rising tide of ejaculate spurting into his mouth.

“Fuck.” Xavier sat there, panting, staring into Carson’s eyes as he kept working at swallowing everything. Grasping two fistfuls of hair, Xavier pulled Carson up, practically onto his lap, and sank into his mouth, licking his tongue. Almost hurting him, the way he was sucking his tongue into his mouth, ravenously nursing at his lips.