Diablo Blanco Club 2, Under Control (7 page)

Even as he abandoned himself to the feelings coursing through him, he recognized the truth in what Ben had been trying to tell him: real passion, real love, slipped free of all bindings, escaped control and spread through a person, infusing the soul with peace.

He trusted Ben. He loved Ben.

Ben didn‟t gloat over winning their challenge with time to spare, and Vance, his mind still trying to make sense of the new realizations surfacing, didn‟t protest his loss.

After Ben eased free of Vance‟s ass and released the chains on his cuffs, Vance watched Ben move to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

After releasing the cuffs, Vance set them on the nightstand and followed Ben into the bathroom. Neither man spoke when Vance slid back the shower door and turned on the spray. Minutes later, the pounding of warm water against his back barely registered over the pleasure Vance found as he swallowed Ben‟s cock, working the knob to the back of his throat and drawing a curse from his lover‟s lips as he used his tongue and throat to tease the tip. Pulling back, he suckled its sensitive ridge, pressing his tongue flat against the underside of the shaft as his fingers tugged at the hot sac behind.

“Fuck, V,” Ben gasped, hands fisting in Vance‟s hair as he pressed his head against the wall of the shower behind him. “You‟re gonna make me come.”

“Fair‟s fair.” Vance chuckled as he allowed his hands to stroke and torment his friend before he swirled his tongue over the tip again. He drew the pearly drop of precum out of the slit and savored the taste. “You made me come, I make you come.

Makes us even, wouldn‟t you say?”

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Ben didn‟t respond. Whatever he was going to say was drowned beneath the groan that rolled through his chest as Vance surrounded his length with the heat of his lips. Letting one of his hands drop to grasp his own swollen erection, Vance focused on bringing Ben to climax with the slide of his tongue and the suction of his mouth.

He forced down his own orgasm, defeating the niggling fear that tried to whisper in the back of his mind that any mastery of his body was merely an illusion—an illusion shattered by Ben‟s easy manipulation of his need, his arousal. Breathing deep, he worked his tongue over, under, and around Ben‟s cock, all the while forcing his mind to stand down, to ignore the taunts and clamp restraints on his sexual state. Arousal was allowed, but no coming, no finishing without permission. He had controlled that and would continue to do so now.

Ben‟s cry and the salty wash of his semen as it shot across Vance‟s tongue and down his throat was the first hurdle. Maintaining control of his arousal was the second.

Suckling the last of Ben‟s release, Vance eased his lover‟s cock from his mouth and rose to face him. Leaning forward, he pressed his stiff member against the older man‟s belly.

“Bed?” he suggested, the left side of his mouth canting upward.

Ben gave a jerky nod. “Bed,” he agreed before dipping his head and pressing his lips to Vance‟s. The flavor of his seed still lingered, but Ben didn‟t seem offended by it.

Vance enjoyed the way Ben sipped at his mouth, pressing with his lips and then flicking his tongue along the seam before slipping inside to play. When their breathing grew rough and the clutch of their hands around each other‟s waists came near to bruising, Vance pulled back.

“Bed.” This time, his words were a command.

Laughing, Ben nodded and leaned into him to reach the faucet.

With the cessation of water, Vance slid the frosted glass door back and stripped a towel from the heated rod beside the shower. Slapping it against Ben‟s belly, he snagged the other for himself and stepped out of the stall. Ben didn‟t bother with drying off. Instead, he swiped the towel over his hair and strode out of the room.

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Qwillia Rain

Forcing himself to take his time, Vance scrubbed at his close-cropped hair with the towel before sliding it along his arms. An involuntary hiss escaped his lips as he scraped the cotton terry over the reddened abrasions that encircled his wrists. The cuffs had chafed more than usual, but he‟d heal, no big. A similar sting registered when he skated the towel over his ass. The welts were receding, but he was sure to have a few bruises come morning. Again, no big: he‟d had worse after the Crucible and Recon training.

Erection still at full strength, he stepped out of the bathroom. His laughter was quickly stifled by a groan that worked its way out of his chest. Ben had thrown aside the black suede comforter and turned down the matching silk sheets. Even as he approached the bed, Vance couldn‟t take his eyes from the slide of his lover‟s fingers as they prepared his own ass. Slick with lube, Ben took his time, using three fingers to smear the gel along the rim and inner surfaces of his channel. Propped on his side, he smiled as Vance stepped closer. His free hand came up, holding out the lube and a condom.

“Unless you‟d like me to—”

“No.” Vance gritted out the word, his voice barely recognizable to himself.

Snatching the cellophane square from Ben‟s fingertips, he ripped it open and rolled the rubber into place. He applied the lube and tossed the tube onto the nearby nightstand as he climbed onto the mattress. When Ben would have rolled onto his belly, Vance stopped him.

“No, I want to look at you. I want to watch your face.”

Understanding turned his gray eyes to silver as Ben shifted onto his back and spread his thighs wide. Reaching down, Ben spread his bottom and canted his hips upward, revealing his glistening hole. “Come and get it, babe.”

Vance didn‟t try to stifle his amusement. God, he needed to find fun in sex again.

After Aimee… He shook away the guilt and morose thoughts.

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Ben fought the urge to demand what was wrong. The flash of grief darkening Vance‟s gaze was out of place, unexpected after the passion of the last hour. Stifling his concern, he wiggled his ass and teased again, “You know you want it.”

He was happy to see Vance play along as his fingers gripped the base of his sheathed cock before settling between Ben‟s spread thighs. Pushing his hands out of the way, Ben could feel Vance set the tip of his erection against his anus and press forward.

Grimacing at the exquisite stretching sensation, Ben gripped the backs of his thighs and pulled, opening himself farther to Vance‟s penetration.

Unlike Ben‟s hammering assault, Vance took his time, easing past pulsing muscles until the damp curls at the base of his shaft teased the underside of Ben‟s sac. The heat and pressure of Vance‟s length stretching his channel had Ben‟s head thrashing against the pillows.

“Fuck, V, it feels good,” Ben assured him, biting back a plea for a fast, hard ass reaming.

Just as slowly as he‟d entered, Vance retreated, drawing a groan from Ben‟s lips. A protest he left unvoiced as Vance pressed forward again. The weight of Vance‟s body eased over his, squeezing Ben‟s aroused cock between their bellies. Callused hands urged Ben to wind his legs around Vance‟s waist as green eyes held Ben‟s gaze. Vance lowered his head.

“So good, Ben. You feel so good,” Vance breathed against his lips.

The look in his eyes held more than sexual need. Again Ben read grief and pain in his lover‟s gaze, but it was hidden away when Vance closed his eyelids and settled into a slow rocking motion. The friction of body against body, the rhythmic advance and retreat of Vance‟s shaft in Ben‟s rectum, the press and rub of skin and muscle against his rising cock, had Ben‟s heart doubling and then tripling its beat.

The threading of Vance‟s fingers in his hair sent a tingle through Ben. The brush of lips on lips then tongue on tongue increased his need for a faster coupling, but still Vance paced himself. Needing more, Ben squeezed the muscles in his ass, flexing 48

Qwillia Rain

around the solid mass of Vance‟s cock, caressing and teasing his length, encouraging him to move faster, harder, deeper.

Vance‟s teeth nipped Ben‟s bottom lip, making Ben grunt in protest and pull away, but only for a moment before he latched onto Vance‟s mouth and suckled his tongue like a child at its mother‟s breast. Smoothing his hands carefully over Vance‟s scarred back, Ben eased one hand between their bodies and caressed his nipple.

Coaxing the chocolate brown bud into prominence, Ben played with the nubbin, tugging and twisting until Vance pulled away from their kiss with a curse.

“You aren‟t in charge here, Murphy,” Vance growled.

Leaning forward, Ben nibbled on the crest he had teased to life. “Says who, Justiss? You?” Suckling the hardened nipple, he set his teeth around it and pulled again.

This time, Vance‟s cock pressed forward with a firm thrust, drawing a sigh from Ben‟s lips.

“You want it hard, Murphy?” Vance queried, his hand dipping to the leaking tip of Ben‟s penis where it was pressed between their bodies.

“Oh God, yes,” Ben assured him, arching into the firm clasp of Vance‟s hand.

“Tough shit. Suffer, Murphy. My turn. My rules. My pace,” Vance informed him, his mouth capturing Ben‟s in a possessive kiss.

And Ben did suffer. Through the slow advance and retreat, the soul-stealing kisses, and the torturous stroke of Vance‟s hand on his cock, Ben ached for release even as he laughed at the revenge Vance had chosen.

Near the end, even Vance seemed to have difficulty controlling his need. The pace of his thrusts increased. The grip of his hand in Ben‟s hair tightened. The pressure of his kiss grew punishing, mashing Ben‟s lips against his teeth until they were bruised from the inside. The heave and flex of his body over Ben‟s and the depth and force of his penetration had both of them gasping and arching against each other.

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Their eyes locked. For an instant, Ben glimpsed regret and fear in Vance‟s gaze before Vance threw his head back and shouted his completion, which triggered Ben‟s climax. Sated, Ben held Vance to him, caressing his back even as he paced his touch to coincide with the rhythm of his lover‟s breathing.

Having regained his breath, Vance eased free of Ben‟s ass, his mind conjuring images of another tight passage he‟d slipped from following the betrayal of his body.

He fought the memories back, refusing to sully his time with the man he loved. He would deal with the memories later, for now Ben deserved his undivided attention—his presence, both physically and mentally, in the here and now.

The past would be faced.

Later.

Exhausted in both mind and body, Vance lifted himself up. Ben‟s cum had dried, making their bellies stick together. He shook his head and laughed at the way Ben‟s flaccid penis pulled away from his belly, then flopped back onto his lover‟s hip before settling between his thighs.

“Shower?” Ben suggested, his voice sleepy and his eyes concerned but barely open.

Vance shook his head but rolled off the mattress. “No, but I‟ll get a damp cloth.”

“I‟ll—”

He waved away his offer. “Let me, I have to get rid of the rubber anyway.”

Taking only long enough to strip off and dispose of the condom, Vance dampened a washcloth and wiped himself down. Rinsed rag in hand, he returned to the bed and bathed Ben‟s butt, chest, belly, and cock. Vance tossed the washcloth toward the bathroom as he rolled onto his side and tugged the covers up to their shoulders.

“Sleep,” Vance grunted.

Ben didn‟t argue. He switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

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Chapter Five

Her slender fingers flexed against his shoulders. The tight grasp and flutter of her intimate
muscles milked the length of his cock, drawing out his climax even as he gritted his teeth and
fought his body for control. His body didn’t care. It refused to listen to his commands and thrust
deeper, setting himself firmly inside her body. His fight to deny orgasm was lost to the pleasure
she experienced despite their situation. As he bathed her virgin sheath with his seed, the monster
within him smiled, knowing the reaction of her body belonged to him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his lips. The apology he should have spoken echoing in
his head in a quiet feminine gasp. “I didn’t… It…” Her confusion was evident in her wide eyes
and the shimmer of tears on her cheeks. Shame mingled with delight in her delicate features. The
smattering of freckles over her nose and along her cheeks disappeared beneath her heated blush of
embarrassment and sexual release.

“I’ll make this right, Aimee,” he promised. Knuckles bruised and swollen, the stroke of his
fingers over her tear-streaked cheeks looked obscene in the murky light of the shed. The more he
saw of her reactions, the prouder he was. Aimee was handling the situation better than some
soldiers he’d trained with and she was barely out of her teens. Despite being raised by missionary
parents, she acquitted herself well for a civilian. The click and whir of a camera were ignored as
he dipped his head to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I swear. I’ll make this right.”

“Keep your promise.” More tears filled her eyes as she stared up at him. “Tell him.”

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Laughter and jeers escalated around them as rough hands pulled him away from her.

Angry demands barely registered in Vance’s mind as he fought against the hands holding him,
the hands pinioning his arms behind his back as a newcomer yanked Aimee from the dirt floor.

Her
hajib
dropped to cover the blood and semen that smeared her thighs. His own nudity was
ignored as Vance tossed commands at the man dragging Aimee toward the door, the black night
visible behind them. His voice a feral growl in the shadowed room, he demanded, “She’s mine.