AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Remember we talked about doing it the other way?”
“Emory, seriously, I’m about to fucking explode. Can you please just—?”
Emory captured his mouth again, keeping his hands over his head, ravaging him with a kiss so deep and intense that Jesse wondered if they might both suffocate.
But then Emory left the bed, and Jesse shivered at the sudden loss of contact. Emory held his gaze as he tugged his jumper off, revealing the endless, rolling planes of his hard, muscled torso. His eyes burned into Jesse’s as he unfastened his belt and pushed his trousers down. He stepped out of them, then drifted to the nightstand. His muscles slid under his alabaster skin like waves on the ocean. His arse was the picture of perfection as he bent and drew something that clinked out of the drawer.
Emory held out two heavy sets of metal cuffs. Jesse stared at them with his heart pounding against his ribs.
“I think the rope was enough,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“These aren’t for you.”
Jesse opened and closed his mouth a few times, his skin fizzing with the possibilities. “For you?”
Emory nodded slowly, his eyes burning dark and low.
“But…” Jess sat up, looked at the wooden headboard doubtfully. “Will they be strong enough? Will the bed?”
Emory moved to the foot of the bed and pulled the whole thing out from the wall as easily as if it were a toy, revealing metal rings set in the plaster.
“You had thosebuilt into the wall?”
Emory nodded again. “They are set in reinforced concrete.” He threw the handcuffs on the bed where they landed with a thump. “They will hold me.”
Jesse picked up the cuffs warily. They were cold and weighty, cruel looking. “I don’t know…”
“I understand the thrill around the giving and taking of control,” Emory said, crawling toward him. “We won’t do this if you don’t want to. But”—he paused with his face a breath away from Jesse’s—“I think you’d be very, very good at it.”
Jesse fought breath into his lungs to speak. “And this,” he said, lifting the cuffs. “This is what you want? What you’d like?”
“I like to feel things,” he breathed, brushing his lips over Jesse’s. “Deep. Hard. Strong. You are all these things.” He kissed him and cupped the flagging bulge in the front of Jesse’s jeans. Jesse’s blood surged again, a thousand small fires burning along his veins like sparklers. He grabbed Emory’s shoulders and pushed him onto his back. He climbed on top and ran his hands over his powerful body, the idea of what it might be like to have it entirely at his mercy shooting excitement through him like lightning.
Emory guided him through the locking mechanisms in a voice husky with arousal. The sight of him prone on the bed, his arms over his head and wrists shackled to the wall, took Jesse’s breath away.
“Jesus, Emory,” Jesse said, stripping off the last of his clothing then straddling his lover. He ran his tongue over his jaw, neck and pecs as he danced his hands over the hard belly and muscled hips.
“Do whatever you want,” Emory said, his own breathing deepening and his cock swelling. “I am yours.”
Jesse almost wept with anticipation, burying his face in Emory’s neck and thrusting against his powerful thighs. “Ah. I…I think…”
“What?” Emory whispered into his hair as he parted his legs, and Jesse shifted to lie between them.
Jesse ran his hands up Emory’s thighs. He thrust into the tight, hot space between Emory’s sculpted arse cheeks and moaned. He lifted his head. They were both breathing hard. Emory’s eyes were hooded and blistering with a thousand hot blues.
“I want you,” Jesse whispered.
“You have me.”
Jesse kissed him hard and fumbled blindly in the bedside drawer until his hands closed around the bottle of lube. He could smell the cool, clinical fragrance stronger than he ever had before as he smeared his fingers.
Jesse’s hand shook as he found Emory’s entrance. Emory moaned, the sound raw and throbbing. Jesse almost came right there. He trembled as he slid a finger inside. He kissed Emory’s jaw, his neck, his chest, anything to avoid his eyes. The tight heat made him shiver, but the sensation was so unfamiliar that he felt awkward, fumbling.
“That’s good, Jesse,” Emory whispered against his hair. “Keep going… Yes.”
Emory tensed. Jesse reached in again, making Emory groan. His muscles clamped around Jesse’s fingers. Jesse’s mouth dried out.
“Shit, Emory,” he panted as he worked him, in and out, sliding in a second and third finger with care as Emory’s breathing sped up. “Are you sure?”
