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His heart was thudding in his chest, his mouth dry in a way that resonated deep within him. The words slipped out of his mouth without stopping, but he didn’t realize how true they were until they were reverberating in his ears. “You can’t get rid of me now.”
Scotland tensed beneath his hand, snapping his spine rigid as he turned his head. He blinked his sleepy eyes at Clint. “Do you mean that?”
“Not unless you’re calling red,” said Clint, nibbling Scotland’s ass cheek as he hovered closer. “That’s the only way to stop me. As far as I’m concerned, this is exactly how you belong—ass up, with two fingers in your needy hole.” He slid a second finger to the knuckle, relishing the slight drag as the saliva dried. He spit once, watching the bubbles slide down Scotland’s crack until they met his buried fingers.
“I thought—”
Clint cut Scotland off as he twisted his fingers, nailing his prostate dead-on. “It’s not time for you to think right now. Put your subby hat on, and let me make you come.” Clint pressed harder, easing up when Scotland let out a whimper. His cock was red and hard, dangling toward the bed.
“I know what you thought,” said Clint, easing away and scrambling for his lube. He still kept some at the bedside table, just in case. He did run a kink establishment, after all. Turning the bedside lamp on, he got back to work.
Scotland’s breath hitched as Clint slicked his hole up, sliding three fingers deep and scissoring them wide. The pink of Scotland’s rim glistened in the lamplight. Scotland’s face was flushed, those beautiful eyes closed and forehead furrowed in obvious pleasure.
“You thought that as soon as I came back to the club, you could escape and find another man. Well, let me tell you something.” He bit Scotland’s ass cheek, sucking a mark into his skin as Scotland groaned, low and long. “I’m not sure how we are going to make it work, but we will. Someone like you, I can’t let slip through my fingers. Right, slutty boy?”
“Uh-huh.” Scotland whimpered as Clint pulled out, slicking up his cock and jamming the blunt head against Scotland’s hole. It was so soft and open that he could probably slide right inside if he wanted.
“Fuck yourself on my cock. Show me how much you want to be my sub.”
It was less than a second before Scotland raised himself on his hands and knees and shoved himself back, taking Clint’s cock to the inevitable base in one long move. It was tight and perfect, bringing him to the edge in a heartbeat. When was the last time I felt this good?
He couldn’t remember.
Scotland was perfect for him—the perfect sub, the perfect Dom and the one he wanted to risk everything for.
“Make me come,” said Clint, struggling to hold still as Scotland did just that. Yeah, I’m not letting this go. Not for anything in the world.
Epilogue
Scotland
“You sure you’re ready for this?” asked Clint, stroking Scotland’s back for what felt like the hundredth time. His palm was hot and sweaty, sliding against Scotland’s own perspiration. It felt smoother than it usually did after a round of waxing the day before. Clint hadn’t wanted any body hair to interfere.
“I’m not worried,” said Scotland, trying to portray every bit of calm when his heart was pounding. He shifted on the table, the padding sticking to his naked skin. He’d taken everything off from his clothes to his boxers until he was completely exposed.
Not that there was anyone to see him but Clint. After months of planning and working on the kinks of their relationship together, Clint had finally brought up the scene that both of them had been longing for.
One of the shower heads in the wet room dripped, echoing along with his breath. They’d decided it was the safest route. Not only had Clint grabbed close to a dozen fire extinguishers, but he’d moved the table until it was directly beneath one of the shower heads. Those, along with the fire blanket, and everything was as safe as it possibly could be.
The waft of alcohol hit his nose a moment before he heard the flick of a lighter and the gentle roar of an ignited flame. The heat hit him an instant later, flaring against his ass before Clint’s hand skimmed over his skin.
It didn’t sting, or even hurt, but was more like a whisper of warmth as if he’d stuck his sunburned arm into the daylight. Clint soothed him with his hand, his palm so much warmer than it had been.
“That was just a little taste,” said Clint, his voice thick and low. Scotland turned his head, trying to catch Clint’s expression. It was almost as blissed out as his own, the fire dancing on the tip of the wand-like tool he had in his hand.
As he watched, Clint rubbed the fire quickly over his palm, bringing his hand to Scotland’s skin as blue fire clung to it.
The heat was sizzling this time and surely would have singed his hair if he hadn’t already waxed. The smell of alcohol clung to the air, tickling his nose as Clint did the same thing again in a fresh spot that hadn’t been ignited by the flames.
He squirmed, trying to get used to a feeling that he wasn’t quite sure of. It wasn’t a tickle, but it wasn’t exactly a burn, either. He shuffled up on his elbows, trying to spot where Clint had last touched him. It was tinged pink like a sunburn and tingled harshly.
“Keep still,” said Clint, dropping the tool into a bucket of water so the fire hissed out of existence. Placing a hand on Scotland’s shoulder, he eased him back down to the table to lie flat. “You ready for more?”
Scotland nodded, swallowing as Clint grabbed the next wand before igniting the soaked end. The fire was on Scotland in seconds. Clint scraped the wand along his skin, the fire lingering for less than a second before Clint moved his hand to the same spot, extinguishing it with a touch.
He couldn’t help but squirm again, nudging his cock into the table and relishing in the ache. Clint’s hands were steady on his skin, never flinching or faltering, despite the fire that was literally at his fingertips.
“You look so fucking good,” said Clint, extinguishing the second fire wand before reaching for a third. “How are you feeling?”
