Three More Wishes (12 page)

"I can. So much. So big." Groaning, he thrust again. Then again.

Cameron's body held him in, dragging along the shaft with every pull. It was incredible, how much he felt inside Cameron. It was nearly as big as what he felt for Cameron. And somehow, Cameron was right there with him.

He began to thrust harder, his whole body moving with it.

"Mmm. Yes." Cameron took him in and in.

"Love you." He said the words as he thrust. The smile that crossed Cameron's face was beautiful. Stunning.

He shouted the words again as he came, body convulsing. Cameron's hands wrapped around him, cradled him, held him close. He kissed Cameron's neck.

He was bringing Cameron home with him, but at the moment, it felt like he'd just been welcomed home by Cameron.

***

Cameron stood at the doorway, listening to Xander move around, pack.

He was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be gone, finished. And now he was going to Xander's.

"I think that's everything." Xander chuckled. "Anything that gets left behind we can replace."

"There's not much. I... I didn't expect."

"It's okay." He could hear Xander coming closer, then a warm hand slid along his arm. "I didn't expect you, either."

"But you sure found me."

He felt Xander's smile against his neck. "I did. I must have done something really good sometime, to deserve you."

"I hope you always believe that." With all his heart.

"I'm sure I will." Xander squeezed him tight. "One last walk on the beach before we go home?"

"That sounds good." He didn't know if his vision had gotten worse, but he knew it wasn't as hard now. Xander helped.

Xander put his hand in the crook of the man's arm and they headed off, Xander telling him softly where the stair from the porch to the beach was.

"It feels warm, nice. It'll be colder where you live."

"It will. I like the changing seasons, though."

"I do, too. I'm a little wigged. I've never been blind anywhere but home and here."

"I'll take care of you, Cameron. I'll teach you how to get around on your own. We'll see about getting you a dog. It's going to be fun, discovering each other in a new place."

He held on tight. "I'm willing to try, babe." He waited, to see how the pet name went over.

Xander was quiet a few minutes, just walking with him. Then he said quietly. "Babe, huh? I like that."

"Yeah? It's... It feels good."

"It does." Xander stopped them, their feet on the wet sand as their mouths moved together in a long, slow kiss.

He reached up, fingers sliding through Xander's thick hair.

"I love you, Cameron."

"Good." He smiled against Xander's lips. "Love."

Xander kissed him hard. "Yeah, good. Come on. This place is beautiful, but I want to take you home now."

"That sounds perfect." He was scared, but alive. Really alive.

"It does."

Xander kissed him again and turned them, led him to the rest of his life.

God, it was beautiful here. Stunning. Ben stretched out on the beach chair, a glass of wine dangling from his fingers. This had been the best idea ever.

He'd almost decided not to come out, after he'd found out that they couldn't fulfill his fantasy, but the guys had been so decent and he'd already cleared his schedule with his agent. There were benefits to that whole best-selling thing.

The sun had set over the beach a while ago, and it was just him and the sound of the waves for miles. He'd eaten a decadent supper, had had a few glasses of wine, and his world was good.

He thought he heard a noise off to his right. He frowned, listened, then shook it off. He'd bet there were some big damned lizards here. The noise didn't come again, but now he got the feeling he was being watched someone not just looking at him, but staring at him.

He sat up, put his wine glass down. Maybe he should stop. He was paranoid. It remained quiet, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling of being watched. Finally, he just got up, headed into the sweet little cabin. He was losing his mind. Fantasizing something impossible. Stupid. Ridiculous.

Just as he went in, something -- someone -- grabbed him from behind. An arm went around his neck, nearly choking him, a big hand covered his mouth, and he was dragged back up against a solid, strong body.

He drew in a breath to scream, hands reaching up to grab whoever had him. The hand over his mouth didn't budge; neither did the one across his neck. His feet dragged along the ground as he was pulled across the veranda and onto the beach. Ben fought hard, trying his best to get purchase on the sand.

The hand on his mouth disappeared only long enough for a hood to be brought down over his head, then it was back, cutting off his scream through the material.

"No!" He struggled, breath coming faster and faster.

His captor was stronger than him, though, and his struggles, his shouting resulted in nothing. Fuck. Fuck. His heart was slamming in his chest, hands scratching at the arms holding him. His feet dragged through water,\ and then wet sand. Then his hands were twisted behind him, bound with something, so fast.

The next thing he knew, his feet were leaving the ground and he was hoisted over his captor's shoulder.

"No!" His eyes felt huge, trying to see even when he knew he couldn't.

A large hand landed on his ass, the sound of the smack muted by his jeans. Oh, fuck. Asshole. Asshole.

Another smack landed. "Be good." The voice was low, growly.

His cock jerked, his belly tight. "Let me go." He thought maybe his captor snorted, but there were no other sounds and the man just kept walking. "Let me go!" His voice was muffled, but audible.

"No." Another smack landed on his ass, this one harder than the first two.

His toes curled, and he jerked. "Let me go!"

The man didn't say anything this time, just smacked him again.

Oh, Jesus.

His head was fucking swimming. Where the fuck was he being taken? They were on a goddamn island. How far could anyone take him? What if... what if this wasn't a fantasy thing? They'd said it had fallen through. They'd said it wasn't going to happen. He was just here to have a holiday now.

The walking turned into running, his body jostling against his captor's with every single step. He screamed, kicking, fighting. Every so often another smack hit his ass, and then another one as he kept struggling. His ass was beginning to burn, the pressure on his belly solid, keeping him from taking a full breath.

Finally, after what felt like hours but couldn't possibly have been, they slowed. He tried to stay relaxed, lazy, so he could run when his feet hit the ground. There were no more smacks to his ass. His captor's gait shifted, the sound of steps on wood ringing out.

Okay, Ben. Okay. Pay attention. Get ready to run.

They stopped, then moved forward, and a door close by slammed.

He wasn't put down so much as dropped, bouncing when he landed. Ben tried to scramble up, face planting as he overbalanced. He was flipped, his hands yanked behind his back, making it arch. One of his feet was grabbed, ankle cuffed to the base of the bed.

Oh, God. He kicked out his other leg, connecting with the baseboard. It was grabbed as well, and also secured to the bed.

"Let me go! Motherfucker! Help!" The words tore out of his chest.

"Don't make me start spanking you again."

He arched, fighting. "What do you want?"

"Your obedience."

He screamed again. "Fucking let me go!"

"No."

His shirt was torn open.

"Bastard..." He shook his head back and forth, trying to get the hood off.

Fingernails flicked like little knives across his nipples. Oh, fuck. He pulled against the cuffs on his ankles, that little burn fucking amazing.

"This can be hard or easy. It's up to you."

"What do you want, you asshole?" The hood didn't budge.

Fingers slapped against his belly. He tried to draw his legs up, protect himself, but they wouldn't go.

It was quiet for a moment, and then something cold and metal slid against his ankle. Ben stilled, breathing hard, ab muscles taut. Oh, God. Oh, God. The metal slid along his leg, his pants falling away behind it.

"Wh...what do you want?" Oh, God.

There was no answer, just the slide of the scissors on his leg and the falling away of more and more of his pants. His toes curled, and he stayed stiff, barely breathing. The scissors went under his underwear, cutting them away, too, sliding along his hip. His balls tried to crawl inside his body.

Finally, his jeans were gone and the scissors left his body. Ben managed to take a deep breath. God. God.

Fingers landed on his foot and slowly moved up his leg. His eyes were huge, wide, trying to see through the hood, trying to figure out what was happening next. Up and up, the warm fingers slid, moving toward his middle. Toward his cock and his balls, which were exposed with his feet spread the way they were.

He tugged at his bonds, legs trying to close.

"Go ahead -- struggle all you want to. You aren't getting away."

"Let me go, you bastard. You fucker!" His cock was threatening to fill.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. That's not very polite, Benjamin." The hand traveling up his thigh slowed, lay heavily against his skin.

"How do you know my name?" His balls were tight, aching.

He could feel his captor's breath against his face, even through the hood he was wearing. "I know a lot of things about you, Benjamin."

He bit back his whimper, his moan. "Let me go. I have money."

Fingers flicked across his belly, feeling awfully close to his cock. His abs clenched like he was doing a crunch. He heard a noise, a grunt, maybe. He didn't know. He couldn't see. Then fingernails flicked over his right nipple, the same touch snapping at his left nipple a moment later.

"Don't!" His nipples ached, so right.

"I can do what I want. You're tied up and at my mercy."

"Let me up. Who the fuck are you?" His cock was filling now, aching. Oh, fuck.

The man just laughed and tapped his prick, making it bounce.

He couldn't even turn away, couldn't hide himself. "Fuck you! Let me up!"

The next touch wasn't a tap; it was a smack, right on his cock. "Don't be an asshole. I dislike assholes."

He cried out, bucking violently.

The man chuckled. "You'll soon learn who's the boss, and if you're as smart as I know you are, you'll figure out how to avoid my little punishments as well."

Punishments? No way. No fucking way. He tamped down the rush of arousal.

"That's how it works. And you, you pretty, fuckable slut, are at my mercy."

He groaned, shook his head, unbearably fucking turned on.

"Oh, yes." His cock was slapped again, one of his captor's fingernails just catching his slit.

Ben went wild, screaming and tugging, that sting maddening. Something hit his right nipple as he struggled, then his left. Then his inner thighs. His fight couldn't last; the bonds weren't giving and his body was tiring.

When he stilled, so did the hits, and one warm finger rubbed over his right nipple, soothing the sting. "This doesn't have to be hard. Or at least harder than it's going to be."

What did you say to something like that?

"If you're very good, I'll move your hands."

As if the words made them, he noticed that his shoulders were screaming, his fingers tired. "Just let me up?"

"No, I can't do that."

He groaned, but he didn't move.

"Good boy." Strong hands pushed beneath his body, and he could feel his captor doing something with the rope around his wrists.

He wasn't a boy, wasn't a slut. He wasn't...

The rope came free, and his right hand was pulled out from behind his back, brought up over his head, a cuff wrapped around his wrist. He moaned, tugging almost immediately, his left hand scrabbling at the cuff.

His captor's knee landed on his arm, weight pressing him down. "You're going to pay for that."

"What do you want?" The pressure was huge, almost painful.

"You'll find out."

If he heard right, the cuff around his wrist was attached to chain, and then his other wrist was cuffed, too. Now he was stretched out, wide, exposed.

"That's better."

He tugged at the bonds, searching for weaknesses, but there weren't any.

"Try as hard as you can. You aren't getting away."

"Just let me up." The man could do anything he wanted.

"Nope."

He heard footsteps heading away from the bed. "Don't leave me!" Oh, God. Oh, God. He started struggling, trying to work himself loose.

The footsteps headed back toward him, and something hit his left nipple.

"Ow! Fuck!" What the hell?

A low chuckle answered him, and then his other nipple was hit as well.

"Fuck you!" Oh, shit. Stinging.

"No." The hard thing hit his belly this time.

"No!" He screamed again, suddenly terrified. He was bare, spread, and he'd never even seen his captor.

The stick, or whatever it was, landed hard on his thigh, hard enough he thought the skin had been split. "No one can hear you."

He tried to curl in on himself, protect his belly, his genitals.

"There's nowhere to go, there's no one to hear you. You are alone and at my mercy. Just accept it."

To his utter horror, tears started sliding from his eyes. He fought the hitching of his breath, hiding the loss of control.

"That's better. There will be a reward if you keep being good."

He shook, fighting the tears, the fear.

"I can hear the sounds you're making."

He bit his bottom lip, struggling with his moans.

His captor's hand landed on his thigh. He tensed, his breath simply stopping. The long fingers danced in place, his captor's thumbs digging in. Every muscle in his body felt tense, sore.

The hand slid, moving toward his exposed cock and balls. His balls were trying to crawl up into his body, trying to hide. Fingertips brushed them. All his muscles went tight, the bonds on his wrists creaking.

Those fingertips stayed right there, touching him. "I won't hurt you if I don't have to."

He fought to take each and every breath.

"There, that's not so hard, is it?" He cock was patted. "If you're really, really good, I might take off the hood."

If he could see, he could get free.

The bed shifted, as if bending beneath the weight of another body. His eyes were huge, and he stared into the dark hood.

"Let's see just how good you can be." His captor straddled him, knees at his shoulders. Oh God.

Ben gulped, teeth digging into his lip.

The hood was tugged up enough to free his mouth. "Open up."

"Oh, God. Oh. I..." He was panicked. "Tell me you're with the fantasy, that you're clean. Please. Please."

"Shut the fuck up and suck me."

He locked his jaw, shook his head. No way. No fucking way.

The answer was a growl, and his captor got off the bed. Two sharp hits came to his nipples again, one and then the other. "Don't make this harder on yourself than it has to be." Then those footsteps disappeared again.

He rubbed his head on the mattress, trying to work the hood off, trying to focus. It was deadly quiet now in the room, and he could hear the very faintest of noises from the ocean. Waves hitting the shore. The hood wouldn't slip off any more, and there wasn't anything to do, so he breathed, listened for his captor. There was no sound aside from the distant waves and the night insects. None.

Ben found himself dozing, then starling awake, over and over.

Heavy footsteps startled him awake again at one point, and the hood was yanked up and off his face. His eyes moved, watered, trying to adjust to the light.