In His Command (2 page)

Jesus. Leon was right. I was pining.

Aaand Blondie hates being hit on
. Great. Fucking fantastic, in fact. Guess I wouldn’t polish up my smile for him. I took a swill, then went with my usual tight-lipped grimness. “Yeah.”

Smooth as bourbon, that was me.

“Can I get you a drink?”

When I turned to him, I caught his suppressed smile. My own was somewhere in the region of my heart, speeding that shit up. “You hitting on me?”

“Yep.” His grin widened across the masculine lips I focused on, figuring out how quickly I could get him below me, my dick between those lips until I was rooting against the rooftop of his mouth, aided by what I didn’t doubt would be his talented tongue.

My smile spilled out after my, “Okay.”
Okay?
What the motherfuck was that? This wasn’t my SOP.

I canned my grin.

We drank, side by side. We watched each other. A spear of longing stabbed down my stomach and hit my balls, setting alarm bells off in my brain.

Swiping my hand over my crew cut, I fell back to comfortable territory. “How do I even know you’re legit?”

The man took a moment, his look suspended somewhere below my hips, where all my juice brewed. An eyebrow lifted in direct time with my swift erection. His eyes rose to my mouth before pinpointing on my glare.

His voice was that same deep drawl, combined with the husky tone of hunger. “You always interrogate men tryin’ to pick you up?”

“You trying to pick me up or set me up?”

A chuckle jostled those big shoulders. His mutter of, “You’ve got no idea,” was hidden behind a deep draft of his beer.

I made ready to move on, swearing myself to oblivion for even thinking about possibilities beyond my reach. But his fingers on my neck, stroking upward over my throat, held me in a sexual trance I couldn’t break.

He was leaner and taller than me, but I could tell his muscles matched mine. And no fucker did that. I would break Leon in two. Not this one. Only…
damn.
He had something I couldn’t put my finger on, but I wanted to. And my mouth. Sealing around his cock.

“See that?” He slid behind me, right where I never let anyone stay as long as I could draw a breath or my SIGs.

I steeled my impulse to pat him down—for more than just sidearms—the soft stubble of his cheek gliding against the clean shave of mine. My heart jackhammered; something in my leathers grew steelier than my instincts.

The corner of his lips nearly tasted mine when he spoke. “Over there.”

Over there was a table upon which a black-haired woman lay as an all-you-could-eat meal. Her skirt was hiked up to her waist while a lithe little number rolled their breasts together, gyrating their bare pussies in slow undulations. The muscles in her thighs trembled. The moans of the mountee were buried under the all-natural cleft of a voluptuous redhead kneeling in front of her face. Kisses were traded between wet loins and mouths and back again.

I stood my ground when he stepped closer, circling strong arms around my waist, rumbling, “That’s nice, isn’t it? Reckon if I wanted, I could go on up there, get my cock out, and slide right into one of those warm, wet pussies, starting with that pretty lady on the bottom, get her good and hot first.”

Normally the idea of a man on top of a woman hardly got more than a “do what you gotta do, dude” from me, but the idea of him fucking a female rankled me all the way to my nads. My hands clamped over his, ready to tear the teasing asshole off me, but Blondie held tight and continued with the mindfuck that kept me erect and enraged.

“Then I’d slide out and go to work on that sweetie on top. Bang her until the table rocked, and I’d wanna mouthful of the redhead’s cunt at the same time.”

His harsh, sexual words in that soft accent had my teeth grinding, my muscles locking down, my legs rocking, and my dick ready to rocket off.

“That’d be hot, if I was into it, right?”

“Whatever you say,” I growled.

His low chuckle sweeping across my straining neck, he brought me right against him. I felt his raging arousal for the women. He laughed again when I craned away, one step from doing him the favor of dislocating his arms from his shoulder sockets.

“But that’s not hot, big man.” He shifted, seating himself fully against my ass. “You are.”

My head dropped, and I groaned when his lips slid up the back of my neck, brushing into my buzz cut.

He pointed to the centerpiece, the St. Andrew’s cross, and dragged his mouth to my ear. “That’s what I like.”

The scene had varied, same Dom, different play pawn. A regular on the scene, the man must’ve had one in every pocket of his drawstring leathers. Now he wielded a quirt, and he broke a sweat, as did I.

Yeah, not going there either, so goodbye, sweetheart.

The only torture I dealt in was the kind I doled out, and it wasn’t kinky. It was all about getting the canaries to sing. “You into BDSM?”

“I’m talkin’ about cock.”

Fuck
.

“I like the way his sub’s gets wider at the base. See that? See how hard he is? Imagine suckin’ that down your throat. Nice hook to it, too.
Mmm.
” His fingers triangulating my groin, he asked, “You like to suck cock?”

I was blown away. This shit didn’t happen to me. Sure, the “Hit-me-up, big boy” came hot, heavy, and often when I was at the Amphitheater, but my brisk “Go get fucked by a goat” glare took care of that.
I
was the aggressor.

His light finger work remained outside my blast zone. “What I really wanna see is yours.”

Well, he could see my cock, suck and get fucked by it, but first, I needed to show him I wasn’t some piece of fluff to be toyed with. I was a damn commander, not a cherry. Disengaging from him, I strolled to the Dom, feeling Blondie’s bemused stare drilling into my back with every step. I waited for the downstroke of the Dom’s whipping arm to have quiet words him.

You wanna be aggressive? Watch this.

I should’ve been doing more than jacking sub cock, but there weren’t a whole lot of other options. Most were paired up, tripled…Fuck, it was an all-out orgy. I certainly wasn’t gonna bend Leon over and bang him for Blondie’s pleasure. Although, if this was for his pleasure, there were probably better ways to go about it.

Whatever.
It wasn’t as if we’d traded rings, not even cock rings for that matter.

Given the nod, I dropped to my knees, stroking the rigid length at face level and cupping the sub’s sacs. While his master was getting his swing on, I took a double-handed grip on that thick, virile flesh, keeping an eye on Blondie with every upward sweep and swipe across the tumescent cap. Coming down hard and fast, the quirt’s lashing clashed with the slow piston of my fists. We stretched the sub to the breaking point of pleasure and pain until sweat dripped, precome curled from his tip in thick teardrops, and his neck pulled back for a silent scream. Another slash, another full-length squeeze up his slick shaft, and the sub lowered his stance, spreading his legs, looking for permission to pour his semen into my palms.

Blondie’s eyes lost that hazy, lazy look. They were crystalline, possessing astonishing violence I knew from the occasional view in the mirror. He stormed toward us, fists clenched at his sides. I jerked faster, slipping up and down the rock-hard rod, relishing Blondie’s reaction.

He beckoned me away, his features stark. I took my time finishing up by polishing the flat of my palm around and around the dome of the sub’s cock. On my feet, I heard the distinct
smack
of cock to stomach followed by the wet suck of a palm to shaft. A fast report of lashes landing on flesh merged into untamed shouts when the sub released his seed all over the ground.

I wiped my hands on my leathers, glad at least the other man’s cock hadn’t been in my mouth. It would’ve been disrespectful to Blondie.

Hello, conscience, long time no see.

Stalking past the table of females
in flagrante
, steering away from Leon watching my exit, I motioned Blondie outside with a jerk of my head.

Beyond the escarpment, feathers of a warm breeze blew the steam from my frustrated stomp. A hand on my shoulder clenched and released and Blondie was so close when I spun around, his breath whirled over my forehead, a sweeter warm breeze than the one played by the trees.

He didn’t move back; instead he dipped his knees enough so our mouths were level, and his words were hot and pissed off. “You put on that show for me?”

“Nah. Just got tired of talking.”

His hands on my hips reeled me in. “How’d you like it if I pulled a stunt like that?”

“I don’t know. Did I blink and miss our Joining Ceremony?”

“Damn it!” My mention of the Company-approved marriage act unsettled him for all of a second or two. “Only cock you should be touching is mine.”

Double that.

A group of young men and women trudged past. Their uniform was black on black from their hair, kept long and uncut, to their clothing, shabby and unusual. Their heads were down as if in prayer, the murmurs they exchanged too quiet to make out. Worn lace and silks and shawls rustled in their wake like ghosts, leaving me with the bad whiff of Nomad in my nostrils.

With my hand clasped in his, Blondie led me farther away. His steps were precise, his eyes roaming. Mine did the same. The blank, black forest surrounded us, so different from Alpha.

A wooden march led us to a trio of tombstones. With a lowered head, he contemplated the stones whose inscriptions were mostly rubbed out with age and neglect. I made out the first letters of one name: HARM. A fitting warning given the way Blondie’s frown drew his fair eyebrows together.

Shaking his head, moving out of the semicircle, he called back, “You like kink?”

“I like sex.”

“You get it much?” In the faint glimmer from rigged halo lights, I saw his cheeks flush. “’Cause it looks like you do.”

“You digging for illegal activities or offering?”

“I’m askin’ you a question. Those lips gonna loosen up for me?”

“No.” I was adept at denying myself. I’d done it all my life. All around us Spanish moss clung to the corkscrewing limbs of oaks sprouting with resurrection ferns. There was an old tarmac road parting the ruins from a rare lake whose surface shimmered under the moon. “I’m not answering any questions.”

The side of his mouth drawn in, he nodded. “Right. I got it.” He backed away, his eyes no longer vigilant but aimed at the ground.

I watched his retreat, powerfully aroused by him, feeling as lonely as I’d ever been. A combo that couldn’t be beat.

He jumped at the sound of impact when I brought my fist down hard on my thigh.

“Gonna regret this,” I muttered as I walked forward, sweeping my fingers across that strong jaw, rough with golden whiskers, and lifting my mouth.

“Oh Christ.” He moaned as my lips fastened on his. Curling his fingers around my ass, he fed from my lips. That was the only way to describe his hunger, our in-and-out lunges chasing the other’s tongue.

When my jacket dropped, so did any pretense of being a coldhearted, coolheaded warrior. I trapped him in my arms as he ran his fingertips around my waist once, twice, before dragging them inside the leather, molding my ass within broad palms.

“Yeah,” I rasped, crashing the rigid lengths of our cocks together.

With each roll across each other, he grunted and I moaned, pulling his bottom lip between mine. I shoved my hands into his hair and twisted the lengths between my fingers, angling his head to better fit the way I wanted to kiss him. With nothing but pure greed.

We parted by a paper-thin divide. Our lips plinked, pressed, pursued.
Teased.

He stroked down my ass, his fingertip circling the star of flesh, pressing and drumming. “You like that, big man?”

My stomach clenched so fucking hard, cramps of lust ran all the way to my cockhead and down to my tightening balls. “Hell, yes.”

“
Mmm,
bet you do.” He made his way up my chest, tearing into my shirt. “Look at that.”

His palms rubbed up and down; then he did the same with his cheek, sending a smattering of kisses and seditious words onto the aroused nubs of my nipples. “Goddamn. You smell like sex, right here. Bet your cock smells even better. I’m gonna get every bit of you wet.”

He sucked on my pecs, gnawing away at the hard edges of muscle, meting out sexy punishment on my tight nipples. When he bit the sinews of my ribs and again at my stomach, I pushed him lower.

Working me out of zippers and buttons, he said, “Gonna make you come so hard.” He yanked my pants down my thighs, intent on my cock, which was so erect it was swollen at the tip.

A howl of need came from deep within my chest as I threw my head back.

He kneaded my sac and smirked up at me. “Feel good, honey?”

“Yeah,” I gasped. “But this’ll feel even better.”

His face between both my hands, I took him directly to the tip of my dick, letting him get no nearer than a tongue swipe away. Cranking his hair in one hand, I worked my fist up and down my cock, right in front of his face while his tongue lapped my head, capturing the trail of moisture from the slit on top. My teeth gnashed at the torture I inflicted on myself, and I spread my feet to brace myself. I wondered how long it would take him to beg, or if I’d blow my load all over his face first.

In the end, all it took was a wisp of his hot breath over me. I gave in, my muscles shaking. Throbbing in every region of my body, I pushed my pelvis out, brought his head forward, and fucked slowly into his mouth. The softest licks of flat tongue, the deepest suction down his throat. His lips were a strained oval around me, his eyes dark, blue and hooded, hooked on mine. Saliva coated my cock as he sucked me quickly in and out until I was familiar with every surface of his mouth, the stricture of his throat, the pointed pleasure of his tongue.

I stood on the balls of my feet to exploit the downward angle of his throat to a better degree.
Far fucking better.

Between my meat and his full mouth, his dirty talk did me in when he drew back for a breath, the tease of his tongue touching me as he spoke. “Fuck yeah, honey. Fuck my face. Wanna feel you come in my mouth.”