Bound by Lies (12 page)

Brayden nods, gasping softly.

“I’m going to give you ways, in addition to the restraints, to lessen your stress. There are different levels of protocol between a Master and a slave. Low protocol is for the most informal situations. Most rules are relaxed, but the trust and respect remains. With Medium protocol, things are still casual, but the slave may wear a collar, be more aware of their actions and words. This is all high protocol. As my slave, there are rules you are expected to follow, or be punished. You’re to keep your eyes lowered at all times. You are to speak only when I’ve asked you for a response, and you will address me with respect. That means ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’, not ‘Jenner’. Stop means stop. If you’re okay with this, answer by saying, ‘yes, Sir.’ If you’re not okay with it, tell me now by saying ‘stop’.”

Bowing his head, breathing harder, blushing darker, Brayden hesitates before answering with a hushed, “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Very good. Just focus on my voice. Control your breathing. Try to relax your body.” As Jenner gives him time to settle, letting the seconds tick by in order for Brayden to know things are under control, Brayden gets still and becomes very quiet, as if by listening hard enough he will be able to learn what’s happening behind him.

“Now,” Jenner says slowly, “my beautiful slave, I have a new fantasy.” Jenner sucks his index finger to wet it. Reaching down between their bodies, he strokes through the crease of Brayden’s ass. He finds his target and rubs in small circles over the tight, wrinkled knot with his thumb to begin to stimulate it, drawing blood there, taking his time.

Brayden shudders breathlessly.

With a twist, Jenner inserts his moistened index finger into Brayden’s heat, impaling him on it. “Better or worse?”

Brayden’s mouth works around a cry that, at first, sticks in his throat, then wrenches free. It breaks on the edges, sharpening into a whimper as Jenner withdraws the finger only to press it back inside and repeat the process.

First, Brayden holds his breath as Jenner finger-fucks him. Then he gasps in huge gulps when oxygen becomes necessary. Jenner glances avidly down between their bodies at the sight of his captive taking in the finger, savoring the velvety soft, clenched heat of his ass, stroking over his inner walls. Brayden is so small, Jenner imagines it could be difficult for him to take Jenner’s cock, but he can’t wait to try.

“Can you guess what my fantasy is?”

Breathing heavily and unevenly, Brayden rests his forehead against the wall in front of him. He arches his back, his spine curving beautifully as his hips tilt to invite each penetration.

He tries to shift his feet and rolls his hips forward. He twists slightly to the side. Jenner simply follows him, sometimes keeping the finger nestled deeply without moving it, letting Brayden feel the obscene violation of it, but then he always goes back to the slow, gentle, demanding strokes in and out.

The first touch of Jenner’s lips to the spot just under Brayden’s right ear sends a shiver outward through his body. Jenner skims his lips over the goosebumps. Brayden clenches up around the finger. Jenner presses a tender suckling kiss to Brayden’s neck before teasingly scraping his teeth over the spot. It makes Brayden grunt and push back into the next inward thrust of Jenner’s fingers.

“Stop means stop,” Jenner whispers. “The bed’ll be more comfortable for this. I’m gonna move you over there. Or, I can let you go. What would you prefer?”

The reply isn’t immediate, or loud, or confident. “Don’t let go.”

Pouring every last drop of his passion into the words, Jenner groans, “I want you.”

He withdraws his finger and, instead, reaches around to fondle Brayden and feel how hard he is. Brayden is fully erect. The entire underside of his dick is wet with precome. Jenner moans his lust and sucks one more kiss to Brayden’s neck.

“Okay,” Brayden grunts in surrender.

Even with his eyes closed, Jenner’s features are burned into Brayden’s retinas with such clarity that the after-image of him is just as vibrant as the real thing. He had never given conscious thought to Jenner in a sexual role before. For Brayden, Jenner was everything to fear, everything that had power over him. His physical size, his position as boss, holding the financial reins of his employee’s life, as well as the person he used to be, a popular jock to Brayden’s awkward outcast, it all overwhelmed any other considerations.

But not now. Now all of that is pushed aside and Brayden helplessly tries to reconcile what happened at Manse with the newfound knowledge that it was
him
. It was Jenner.

It seems impossible. It seems like a distorted dream that he expects any moment to wake from.

Jenner.

Brayden sees him anew. Jewel-like, dark-blue eyes so fathomless in depth that he feels he could fall into them if he looks too long and with too much intensity. The small cleft in his chin; the particular bow shape of his lips; the dimples deeply denting his cheeks and the pronounced nature of his cheekbones all add up to create a visage extremely masculine but terribly beautiful. As Jenner holds his wrists in a vice-like grip and leads him blindly to the bed, Brayden realizes for the very first time that some of his fear of Jenner was due to attraction—an attraction so acute that it twisted around on him, like a snake with fangs bared, ready to strike. This is everything he’s been avoiding, everything he couldn’t face. And now it has him, quite literally. Escape is impossible, or so he tells himself.

It seems unbelievable, that Jenner has secretly desired Brayden, someone so beneath Jenner on the social ladder. For so long, Brayden wanted the kindness of his peers desperately. The idea of one of the popular guys showing any interest in him at all would have been laughable, at best a ploy to screw with his head and humiliate him in front of everyone else. The paranoid part of him whispers that maybe that’s still the case. Instinct warns him not to trust Jenner, but the careful listing of rules, the explanation of protocol makes it easier to go along with it, letting the moment and the formality of Jenner’s approach to sex instill some confidence that things are what they seem, despite it all.

Brayden’s knees touch the side of the mattress. As Jenner guides Brayden’s hands behind his back, trapping them there together, he leans slightly against the bed to keep upright. His jeans were hastily pulled back up by Jenner but they hang open.

There’s a pause that draws out too long. Brayden feels Jenner’s eyes on him like a caress. Fingers weave into the loose hair at the nape of Brayden’s neck, scratching lightly over his scalp, causing shivers to shoot out under his skin. His lips part around a sigh. The fear is still there, but the gentle touches and Jenner’s patience lull Brayden into a sense of security.

Discarded on the carpeted floor, Brayden sees through half-lidded eyes the leash that Jenner used to bind him at Manse. It links him to the sensations of that night, awakening them in memory.

Maybe Jenner sees him looking, because he asks, “What is it? What do you need?”

“You have the leash,” Brayden says quietly, before adding, almost too softly to hear, “I want you to use it, Sir.”

Jenner responds immediately, crouching to snatch it up, pulling the shirt off of him and using the leash to tie Brayden’s arms in place, his loosely-curled fists resting in the sweeping curve of his lower back. Half-undressed, barely covered as the jeans begin to slip lower, held up only by the swell of his ass, Brayden waits for it, anticipating it—Jenner’s touch anchoring him to the spot, the moment, and whatever combination of pleasure and pain it brings.

It doesn’t come. He waits and waits, making him feel frantic, wanting to get it over with. Then.…

“This is wrong,” Jenner says, the tone of his voice changed drastically, distant and laden with doubt. “We need to slow down.”

“What?” Brayden blurts. His eyes open and, tilting his head up and to the side, he seeks out Jenner, whose fingers caress through his hair. The tender sensuality of it stokes the heat of Brayden’s desire and subsequently weakens the foundations of his self-consciousness. Searching Jenner’s face, reading the uncertainty there, Brayden hears himself say, “You can’t just leave me like this.”

“It’s too fast. I promised you we would talk about this. I—I shouldn’t have presumed,” Jenner says, struggling for the right words and Brayden can see his confusion, met with a situation probably unlike any he’s encountered before. And, because he feels the same way, Jenner’s confusion banishes Brayden’s. It evaporates, replaced with empathy.

Brayden turns his cheek slightly into Jenner’s hand, so that it brushes against the palm. Brayden begs him, “
Please
.”

The kiss happens quickly, surprising him. Jenner tugs lightly on Brayden’s hair, forcing him to tilt his head back farther, and catches his mouth in a hard, urgent press of lips. Before he can think to react, grunting softly and marveling at the impossibly soft feel of Jenner’s warm, full lips moving against his own, Brayden opens and Jenner pushes inside. Demandingly, Jenner licks over Brayden’s lips and starts to map his mouth with his tongue. The twisting muscle teases, stroking, probing, tasting.

Struggling just to breathe, Brayden moans. Jenner bears down on him, taking everything. The sensations and intimacy are pure pleasure that rocket straight down to Brayden’s dick. Every thought and doubt burns away with the heat of the kiss. Brayden lets Jenner use him, sucking on his lips, tongue-fucking his mouth, leaving him throbbing, tingling, and desperate.

Brayden could never have imagined it would be like this. Getting lost in the abandon, the lust, Brayden feels only relief when Jenner’s free hand pushes the jeans out of the way and wraps Brayden’s erection, tugging on it in a gentle but rapidly increasing pace.

Quickly, Brayden becomes frantic. Caught between the hand in his hair, cupping the back of his skull while Jenner kisses his breath away, and the one jacking his cock, it’s all Brayden can do to vocalize his anxiousness into the kiss. Jenner swallows every sound, urged on, pushed full-force into the dominant role. He milks every keening grunt, every gasp and whimper. When Brayden begins to thrust sharply, counter to each tug, Jenner jacks him at a frenzied speed, leaving Brayden panting, pushed right up to the edge, hard as silk-sheathed steel in Jenner’s hand.

“Stop!”

It hits Jenner like a slap. He stops immediately, releasing Brayden completely.

“What’s wrong?”

“I thought you wanted to…” Brayden starts, unable to finish. Jaw clenched, he clears his throat and mumbles, “And I was about to….”

“Come? That’s kind of the whole point.”

The confession is a struggle. It begins as a bright spark of defiance that slowly darkens. If he typically acts innocent and unassuming, he doesn’t feel that way in the slightest now. The timid, lost little boy, intimidated into shyness, is gone. All of his frustration—with his family, with the move, with Andre—it gives him confidence, makes him bold. The words sit on his tongue before he releases them, letting them do whatever damage they will.

“If you’re just trying to placate me in order to get out of this, then let me spare you the trouble.”

Jenner seethes. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes as he tries to master himself. It doesn’t seem to work.

“Goddammit.”

Spurred into movement, Jenner grabs a duffle that’s been shoved under the bed by Brayden’s feet. After a moment spent digging in it, he finds what he needs. He returns to Brayden, standing directly behind him. Pushing at the middle of Brayden’s back, Jenner bends him sharply over the side of the bed and tosses a condom down beside him.

Brayden stares at it in disbelief, unable to look away. His breath catches, coming in fits and gasps. It’s too late to take back what he’s said.

In his peripheral vision, he sees Jenner squirt lube from a small bottle onto his hand. Then he pushes Brayden’s pants and underwear down to his knees and nudges his feet apart as wide as they’ll go. Impatiently, hurriedly, roughly, he rubs lubricant over Brayden’s opening and twists two fingers up into him, smearing the cold gel inside.

“Ahh!
Fuck
!”

Brayden bends slightly at the knees, his hands curling into tighter fists, his short fingernails digging into his palms. He gasps into the bed at the cold strangeness of Jenner’s fingers stretching him out. The fingers scissor apart, working the inner muscles of his sphincter loose with skill and expediency. Feeling the skin of his face and neck heat with a deep flush of embarrassment, Brayden endures the humiliation of it. He tries to be quiet and keep still but finds it difficult to manage. Just as the ache dulls, with Jenner’s fingers pumping in and out of him, pushing in to the last knuckle, bending and corkscrewing on the withdraw, and his body slowly adjusts, Brayden feels a third finger press in beside the other two.

At Brayden’s subsequent sharp whimper of pain, Jenner eases up, taking more care, but still just as impatient. He unzips and strokes himself while he preps Brayden for penetration.

“This better? I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to make sure I can fit…you’re so fucking tight.”

Brayden tries to speak but all that comes out is a moan.

“Has it been a while?”

You have no idea
, Brayden laments inwardly. He doesn’t answer but tenses his arms and shoulders, straining against the leather tie as the bite into his skin soothes another, more elusive hurt.

Jenner squirts more lube onto his hand then favors Brayden with long, deep, slow thrusts with the three fingers. Clenching up around the invasion, pushing a little against Jenner’s hand, Brayden is unused to being fingered at all, let alone stuffed as full as he is. Jenner’s desperation to get on with the actual sex is palpable. It takes him over and Brayden submits to it, as terrified as he may be. The confident force of Jenner’s need outweighs Brayden’s confused misgivings.

Suddenly, Jenner stops touching him and lunges to grab the condom from the bedspread. The wrapper is ripped open with Jenner’s teeth. He spits out the piece of foil and rolls on the rubber. Brayden’s panic ratchets up again. Focusing only on his breathing, Brayden feels Jenner take hold of his hip to steady him and senses the intensity of Jenner’s stare on his naked body. With his bare ass up in the air, his hole feeling wet with the lube and tender from being manipulated by Jenner’s fingers, Brayden is nothing but helpless and overwhelmed.