Diablo Blanco Club 2, Under Control (6 page)

The drift of callused fingertips began as soon as Vance relaxed his hold on the chains. They trailed around the base of his cuffs where his forearms crossed and down the slope of his biceps. It was a caress that seemed to be measuring the heat, the flex and play of muscles and sinew. When Ben‟s right hand reached the scar just below Vance‟s Diablo Blanco Club: Under Control

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left collarbone, he froze. The warm pad of a thumb circled the pink pucker of flesh, pressing, investigating.

Vance‟s breath hissed through clenched teeth the instant Ben‟s lips replaced his thumb. The moist warmth whispered a soft kiss against the scar and the matching one two inches below it. The effect the tenderness of the kiss had surprised Vance. It was as if the reminders of the pain associated with the wounds could be wiped away with the touch, much like a mother would kiss her child‟s scraped knee to make it feel better.

More confusing still, Vance realized, was the measure of peace that stole over him.

The arousal was still there. Fuck yeah, it was still there. But the urgency associated with his long pent-up frustration dissipated, washed away with each careful touch. In its place, the deep inner feeling of completeness began to stir. With that first moment of awareness, Vance sank his teeth into his bottom lip. The jut of his cock and the heat in his balls worked against him. The heat was growing. His control was slipping, just as it had with Aimee.

Ben‟s sliding fingers continued to tease, delineating each of Vance‟s ribs, before smoothing along his obliques and exploring his abs. The instant the damp tip of Ben‟s tongue teased the dip of his navel, Vance couldn‟t stop the growl that rumbled up in his chest. His hips thrust forward. His hiss soon followed as the scrape of Ben‟s evening beard abraded the damp tip of his erection.

“Behave.” Ben‟s sharp command brushed Vance‟s skin as his lips pressed against the smaller white gouges and lumps left by the shrapnel he‟d taken in his left side, hip, and leg.

“Quit teasing,” Vance chided.
Breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out. Hold it. Rein it in,
soldier. It’s almost over. Time’s almost up.

“Suck it up, soldier,” Ben taunted. “You still have twenty minutes to go.”

“Fu—
Shit
!” More curses followed as the one thing Vance had been waiting ten minutes for happened. The warm slide of Ben‟s lips over his cock had him arching forward, muscles tense, hands fisting the chains above them. The slow swipe of Ben‟s 38

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tongue over the sensitive crest sent a shudder of arousal through his body. With each bit of flesh Ben pulled into his mouth, Vance fought the pleas for release.

The heat, the stroke of Ben‟s tongue, the flex of his fingers around the base of Vance‟s shaft all chipped away at the ice encasing his control. His hips rocked forward, pressing his length deeper, and Ben accepted it, suckling the extra flesh even as he tugged the short curls surrounding its base before cupping Vance‟s sac. When Ben pulled away, Vance bit back a cry of protest before a ripple of pleasure coursed through his groin and up his spine. The wet slide of Ben‟s tongue along the length of his shaft sent another shiver through his body. Vance fought the desire to arch forward even though his body was desperate for the next stroke, the next caress.

He was determined to hold off. He fought against his body‟s urge to let go. The need was there. The attraction and desire were greater than any he‟d experienced in the past.

But suddenly, even as the wet stroke of Ben‟s mouth over his cock sent shivers skating along his skin, Vance became aware of the subtle stirrings of power settling into place. Drawing a deep breath, he willed his body to remain still, not thrust toward the warmth of Ben‟s mouth. It obeyed.

Vance felt the tether slide into place. Triumph zinged through his body and mind.

Ben might attempt to break his hold on his needs, but Vance could handle it. Ben could tease as much as he wanted. It was back—his control. He held the lead. The reins on his need were in his power. He wouldn‟t lose them again. No one would be hurt.

He felt his lips edge up at the corners.
Take all the time you want, Murphy
. For the first time in six months, Vance started to feel human again.

Ben stifled the sound of his hunger. The scent of Vance‟s arousal, the heat of his cock, the reaction of his body to his touch had Ben‟s own erection straining for release.

The need to explode hovered tantalizingly close, even as he buried his nose in the curls Diablo Blanco Club: Under Control

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at the base of Vance‟s shaft and inhaled the unique blend of his scent and the sweat slicking his skin.

Man or woman, Ben knew the right spots to stroke, caress, and tease to heighten the need and draw out arousal to a painful necessity. In his time at the Diablo Blanco Club, he‟d learned valuable lessons in various forms of stimulation. He‟d even experimented with a few, wanting to know the different types of pleasure to be gained from the multitude of toys made available to Club members. The sting of the lash, for him, held less appeal than a judiciously placed flick of the tongue. The heat of candle wax could never compare to the pressure of fingers flexing against straining muscles.

Ben smoothed his hands over the bunched muscles of Vance‟s thighs, humming softly in appreciation at the clench and release of the flesh beneath his touch, as well as the rasp of body hair against his palms. When his fingers smoothed over the gouges and dips left by shrapnel, Ben shifted his lips to explore the scars.

Above him, Vance grew still. His body tensed and then relaxed into Ben‟s touch.

Ben chuckled, nipping at the flesh beneath him. “Bored, V?” he teased.

“Bored, my ass,” Vance challenged as he shifted lazily beneath Ben‟s caress. “Not if you get your mouth back to where it can do the most good.”

“Your ass is just what I was wondering about.” Ben laughed. Rising, he let his body slide against Vance‟s, enjoying the heat of flesh pressed to flesh, the rub of one cock against another, before settling a hot, hard kiss on Vance‟s lips and stepping back.

Chains rattled as Vance grumbled curses in languages Ben barely recognized. This only made him laugh louder. “Turn around, Vance. Let me get a better look at your fine ass.”

The slow way Vance eased around to face the leather-covered wall had Ben chuckling beneath his breath. When he‟d had his mouth wrapped around Vance‟s cock, he‟d felt the shift in the way his friend held himself. The confidence and self-possession Vance had been lacking when Ben had first voiced his challenge were back, and the thought made Ben‟s cock throb harder. Taking his own time, he moved to retrieve a 40

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condom and the lube from the nightstand. After the better part of a decade wondering what the clasp of Vance‟s ass would feel like, Ben had every intention of discovering how close to his imaginings the sensation was.

As he drew closer, Ben didn‟t fight the grimace that twisted his lips. The sight of the thin pinkish white scars crisscrossing Vance‟s shoulders and down his spine pissed him off. Dropping the prophylactic and the tube to the floor, he smoothed his hands over each of the marks before pressing his lips to them. Beneath his touch, Vance tensed, hissing out a single breath. Then he fell silent for the rest of Ben‟s exploration.

The play of sinew and densely packed muscle over bone had Ben‟s passion leaking from the tip of his cock. Easing to his knees, Ben moved lower down Vance‟s spine until his hands bracketed his friend‟s hips and the raised welts from his whipping heated his lips. Moving his hands inward, Ben smiled against Vance‟s firm ass cheek before giving in to the urge to nip at the reddened flesh. The curse Vance uttered turned into a groan as Ben eased the mounds apart and teased the dark pucker of his ass with the flick of his tongue.

“How long?” Ben queried, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Since I‟ve taken it up the ass?” Vance croaked.

“Mmmm.” Ben let the motion of his tongue and the scratch of his evening beard against the inside of Vance‟s cheeks identify his response as a yes.

A gulp of air and a moan preceded Vance‟s curt, “two years.”

Scooting back to don the condom and pop the cap on the lubricant, Ben asked,

“How do you like it? Fast or slow?”

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Chapter Four

“I don‟t give a fuck.” Despite Vance having regained control, Ben‟s teasing was driving him crazy. He was going to die if Ben didn‟t hurry things up. Excited quivers ran through his body as the tearing of cellophane and the soft sounds of a rubber being rolled on reached his ears. The
snap
of a cap and the
swish
of moisture sliding over flesh only increased the trembling in his limbs. His fisted hands kept the vibrations from rattling the chains holding him, but he wasn‟t sure for how long he‟d be able to keep still.

I had no idea anticipation could be this painful
. Vance shook his head at his mental discovery. The throb of his erection beat in time with the tremors cycling through his body. Need for release had reached an excruciating level, and still Ben teased. Pushing his ass back, Vance tried to tempt his friend to move faster. He‟d achieved what he sought. The beast of his emotions was inside his grip, tamed. He could enjoy Ben‟s attentions without fear of losing control. Like he‟d said, a man was always under control.

The heat of Ben‟s body against his drew another moan from his lips. The press of slick fingertips against his hole had him pushing back.

“Do you need to come? Is that why I should hurry, V?”

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“No,” Vance lied, biting back his body‟s urge to encourage Ben to work faster. The slide of two fingers into his rectum and then a third had him rocking on his feet. He could control the need now. Couldn‟t he?

The torture only grew worse as Ben laughed. Working the fingers of one hand deeper, Ben wrapped his free hand around Vance‟s straining cock. The rope in Vance‟s mind strained against the pressure created by the emotions pushing to slip free. Vance tried to focus on keeping it taut and in place, but the rhythmic squeeze and release of Ben‟s hand, combined with the stroke of fingers in his ass, had Vance chanting incoherently, “Oh God, yes, baby!” Again and again, he had to stop himself from uttering a plea for release. He may have regained control, but there was no goddamned way he was going to let Ben win their wager. But as Ben increased the intensity of his motions, Vance couldn‟t help begging for the feel of Ben‟s cock. “Ahh, God, Ben, I need it. Please, I need it now!”

“Need what, V? Tell me.” The command was accompanied by the removal of Ben‟s fingers from his ass.

Only the slide of his hand along Vance‟s cock remained, and even that had slowed to a smooth caress, the fingers no longer squeezing.

“I need you to fuck me,” Vance said. He pressed his hips back, sliding his cheeks against the lubed heat of Ben‟s flesh. “I have to feel your pole pounding inside me, Ben.”

“How?” Ben asked. He moved the tip of his erection so it was snug against Vance‟s entrance and then stilled, seeming to wait for a response.

“Hard, Ben. Fast, baby, and hard.” Vance quivered in his restraints. The pleasure and pain that coursed through his body increased the buzz of his arousal and need to a fever pitch. His breath froze in his lungs as Ben slammed his dick home, shoving past pulsing muscles to bury his length balls deep in Vance‟s ass.

The hand around Vance‟s cock kept pace with the shaft up his ass, spinning Vance‟s senses into the ether, stretching his concept of where he was, what he was, and Diablo Blanco Club: Under Control

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whom he was with beyond anything he‟d experienced. Ben took him at his word and set a furious pace. The heat of his chest warmed Vance‟s back with each hard advance of Ben‟s length into his body, only to be followed by the steady retreat. Tingles from his building climax spread through his balls and up Vance‟s spine, increasing in intensity with every thrust of Ben‟s hips. His emotions pulled at the bonds. He struggled to hold them in, racing toward release. Ben‟s heated whispers barely registered in his mind.

“That‟s it. You feel so fucking good, baby. Hot and tight,” Ben growled. His chest was plastered to Vance‟s back, hips pounding his ass, balls slapping against balls. “Just for me. Made just for me.”

“Yes,” Vance agreed. The blindfold heightened his awareness of every breath flowing in and out of their lungs. The sound of flesh meeting flesh, the drip of sweat down skin, the texture of the carpet beneath his feet as he braced himself and met Ben‟s every advance with the push of his hips. Needing more, his body straining for the release he refused to allow it, Vance turned his head to connect with Ben‟s cheek as the other man buried his face in the curve of Vance‟s neck.

The kiss was carnal. No coaxing of lips or teasing of tongues. Just a raw exchange of need as tongues dueled and lips pressed against each other. The scent of sweat and sex engulfed Vance‟s senses as he parried and thrust, never giving in to the domination of Ben‟s kiss. Even as they pulled apart to draw in deep gulps of air, Vance waged a war with his flesh, refusing to allow his body release, refusing to let his body dictate his passion. The control had to be his. Exerting every ounce of power within him, he fought against the explosion that tingled in his balls and twined up his spine, until Ben‟s teeth tugged at his bottom lip.

The squeeze and stroke of Ben‟s fist around his cock, the pressure of the bite, had him teetering on the edge. Ben released his hold on Vance‟s lip.

“Trust me,” Ben whispered. “Do it, Vance. Come with me.”

It was the simple command in his lover‟s voice that sent Vance into climax.

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The wet splash of his cum against his chest and belly coincided with the heated pulse of Ben‟s cock within the tight confines of his rectum. Angry at his surrender at the same time every taut muscle in his frame relaxed, Vance‟s head dropped back to rest against Ben‟s shoulder. The steel-reinforced beam supported his weight even as the chains latched to his cuffs groaned at the pull of two hundred pounds of solid muscle.