3-Ties That Bind (4 page)

“Touch my cock—I need that,” he begged in a raw voice and Derek did as he asked since he was taking so much, trusting so well. Stroked the boy’s hard member in tandem with the fucking until he felt his balls tighten and knew he couldn’t hang on much longer.

“Come now—right goddamned now,” he told Glen, who shot his load all over Derek’s hand. In turn, Derek pumped his load inside of Glen, filling the condom. Wishing he didn’t have to pull out, wanting to remain in place as long as possible. Finally, he moved and took the condom off. Wrapped and tossed it into a plastic bag.

He kissed the back of Glen’s neck, listened to him breathe until it went from riotous to calm. “In the restaurant, when I said you got involved too soon after John, I wasn’t judging you. But a year’s grief for what you had wasn’t enough—you didn’t make a choice based on your needs. You made a choice based on loneliness.”

Glen swallowed hard, asked, “How do you know that?”

“Because I did the same thing,” he admitted. “We deserve time to heal. We don’t always allow it because it’s easier to be with someone else than to hurt.”

With his head still buried in his arms, Glen said, “I want to know more about that…when you’re ready to tell me.”

He would share, but not tonight. Instead, he reached forward and undid the cuffs and the lock and helped Glen turn over. The boy would be stiff for a little while, and he rubbed the circulation back into his arms as Glen stared up at him, his stomach covered with come.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured. “Let me take you back to the house and clean you up.”

Chapter Four

Although it appeared that Derek was asking him, it was part command. Still, Glen got the feeling he’d be allowed to refuse, because Derek waited for him to nod his consent.

“Stay here. I’ll drive us to the house.”

Glen complied, mainly because he was too damned content to move. His limbs sang from the bindings, his ass burned and his mind was finally quiet.

The truck crunched over snow and leaves, and out the windows, Glen watched them come out of the woods and felt the car find pavement.

In less than two minutes, they were pulling into a garage. Derek got out and opened the hatch to let Glen out that way, still naked. “We were on my property the whole time. You were always safe. I’ll never do anything to interfere with your career.”

That warmed Glen more than he already was. He let Derek help him out—the chill inside the garage felt good on his skin, and for a moment, he stood there letting the night air wash over him. Then Derek tugged him inside and brought him upstairs.

The house was sparingly lit, but Glen caught sight of brown leather couches and comfortable surroundings. Upstairs, he was directed to get into the king-sized bed with the metal headboard perfect for binding someone and damn, he was hard again.

“Someone wants to be fucked again, don’t they?”

“Yes.” God, the one word was a definite plea—he couldn’t hide it.

Derek swiped the precome from Glen’s cock and used it to wet the head, stroked him until his hips rose and fell on the mattress.

It was good, but he wanted Derek back on top of him, holding him, fucking him until he couldn’t see past the pleasure. So he spread his legs and reached up to grip the headboard’s rungs, holding on tightly, his muscles straining.

Derek stopped to put on a condom finally. Then he took some soft rope and bound Glen’s wrists over his head. One ankle only, because he took Glen’s other thigh and bent it so he could really get inside of him deeply.

And he did go deep, entered him in one long stroke, all while holding Glen’s leg to optimize the pleasure for Glen. But he kept his thrusts deliberately paced, until Glen wanted to claw the ceiling with frustration. Couldn’t do much but lie there and take it, which of course made him harder than ever. “You want it faster?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s up to me, right? And you like it when I take your control away.”

Glen nodded, teeth clenched. Because his wants were fighting one another right now, and he was confused and horny and his skin felt too tight. He was sweating, his body ached for more, and he heard himself whisper, “Fuck me, daddy.”

Derek froze for a millisecond and then bucked up into him, hard, groaning as his body responded to those words as if they had an uncontrollable pull. Completely lost it, fucked him until Glen saw stars, cried out Derek’s name and came in hot spurts on their stomachs.

And for the first time in a long time—maybe ever—Glen wished his wrists weren’t bound, so he could wrap his arms around Derek’s shoulders to hold the man while they both came. Wondered what the hell that was all about, even as his body still came down from the high of the orgasm.

Derek remained on top of him, only letting Glen’s leg drop. Dammit, his body began to tremble all over from everything that had happened that night, like he was finally letting down all his guards.

When Derek felt his shaking, he immediately undid the bindings and pulled Glen close, holding him tighter than ropes ever could. “Relax—you’re safe. Really goddamned safe.”

He stoked Glen’s hair until all that remained was comfort. And he was comfortable, even knowing this man for less than forty-eight hours. He’d made good on his promises—Glen bore no marks and had had no punishments he hadn’t been begging for.

Finally, Derek lifted his head, his cheeks flushed from exertion and asked, “Who told you I liked that?”

Glen smiled and buried his face against his shoulder. Murmured, “I have my sources.”

“I like that you asked about me. But you’re so getting put over my knee for it. In fact, I think that makes at least two spankings I owe you, because the one in the car didn’t count.”

It counted for Glen because the slaps had been hard enough that he could still feel them, even on the soft sheets. But he wasn’t about to complain, instead traced small circles on the bare skin of Derek’s shoulder. “That drove you nuts. Loved watching you lose it like that.”

“Bet you did.” Derek kept him so close. “I want you to stay tonight. Will you be able to sleep or should I drive you home? I want you safe in the air, and I know that means regular sleep.”

Glen looked at him and knew the man did really mean it.

This man got it—and him—and that scared him more than anything. “I think I’ll be okay to stay.”

“Good.” He went to the bathroom and came back with a washcloth to wipe Glen’s stomach. “You can shower in the morning. I want you to smell me on you all night.”

Glen got hard and figured that if he didn’t start gaining some self-control, he’d come whenever Derek started talking.

“Come on.” Derek shifted to move the covers and Glen got in next to him. There were no orders but Derek was still in control, and fuck, Glen liked that, liked the way the man ordered him around and made him come.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, heard the sleep in his own voice but resisted it for a while longer.

“Yes.”

“Before, when I told you my…needs…” He paused. “Do you have any?”

“Of course.”

Glen stopped his mind from racing ahead to what they could possibly be and whether or not he’d be able to comply with them. But Derek put a calming hand on the back of Glen’s neck and kissed him for a few minutes, his tongue stroking gently along Glen’s.

When he pulled away, he told Glen, “The rules I have aren’t for you. They’re for me. My rule is to keep you happy.”

“Keep me happy?” Glen repeated.

“It’s not my responsibility to make you happy. Once you’re there, I’ll keep you that way.” Derek paused. “When we’re playing, I don’t want you to think you can’t stop it. But I like pushing you beyond what you think are your limits. Because I think you need that.”

Glen thought so too.

Derek let him sleep the next morning, fucked him twice before they got into the shower. Spent a lazy Sunday together that went much faster than Glen would’ve liked. They ate. Watched a couple of movies.

When Derek dropped him off at home, they had each other’s cell and home numbers. No other promises spoken, but they were there, bonding them already in the short time they’d been together.

Still, he hadn’t told Derek he was leaving for a mission in the morning and had no idea when he’d be back. He knew Derek would understand why he had to disappear. But they were still so new… Derek didn’t know his patterns.

The man could think Glen had disappeared. And so, on the way to the base on Monday morning, he left Derek a note in his mailbox. No email trail, just a simple drawing of his gold wings that he was pretty sure Derek would understand.

Derek found the drawing of the wings in his box that next afternoon. Fingered it—smiled that the boy cared enough to let him know he was on mission status. Said a few prayers for Glen and threw himself into his work until the boy returned.

Chapter Five

Glen had been gone for nearly three weeks. The clandestine mission in the mountains of Afghanistan had him doing constant pickups and a lot of waiting around for the SEALs to gather their intel. Osama was dead, but there was still a lot of cleanup in the area to contend with. He was on constant call, sleeping little, flying and firing at the same time. All in all, a successful mission.

When the team returned to the States, they spent days debriefing. Going over every detail to see what they could’ve changed and why. It was probably one of the most important parts of the job, and when it was over, Glen went home and slept for twenty-four hours straight. Woke to darkness. Eleven at night on a Saturday.

He glanced at his phone, thought about calling Derek but decided he’d rather surprise him instead. Showered, dressed and called a cab in the hopes that Derek would be the one driving him home that night.

He scanned the lot as the cab drove in, exhaled when he saw Derek’s truck. He went in through the back, hoping to avoid contact with a lot of the men. Coming back from a mission, he was always twitchy. This time, more so, probably because he wasn’t sure how Derek would react to his having been gone for so long.

Of course, the first goddamned person he saw was Mark, the Dom he’d attempted a relationship with the year after John died. A real mistake on a number of levels.

The man was good-looking, but that wasn’t enough to make up for the amount of pain he’d leveled at Glen. Although it had all occurred years earlier, his insides still ached at the abuse he’d let happen more than once. They’d only been together for a month, at most, before Glen extricated himself and avoided the club—and this entire scene—until the night he’d met Derek.

“Hey, heard you started coming around again.” Mark held out his hand and Glen shook it reluctantly.

He tried to look over Mark’s shoulder, but the hallway was dark and he couldn’t make out anyone at the bar. “I’m meeting someone,” he said, tried to step around Mark, who was obviously not wanting to let him pass.

“Heard you’ve been with Derek,” he said.

Glen attempted to push past him but Mark planted an open palm against his chest. Glen wasn’t allowed to fight when not in a combat situation. With his training, hitting someone could have deadly consequences and he took that seriously as hell. So he remained in place to hear whatever bullshit Mark wanted to spew and then he’d leave.

“What’s it to you if I have? We’re over, in case you can’t remember,” he told Mark, who grinned that small, mean little smile that made Glen cringe inside. Mainly because he couldn’t believe that, at one point in his life, he’d been so goddamned weak.

“You’re not his type.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re not into pain. You can’t handle the whip,” Mark told him. “You know his sub died, right? Since then, no one can deal with Derek full-time because he’s too rough. His last sub has scars from him on his back. He’ll start out slow, like he’s following your rules, but then he does exactly what he wants.”

“And you’re telling me this because…”

“Just looking out for you, baby.”

Glen bit back what he wanted to say, allowed the comment to die in his throat the way his hopes for Derek being different did as well.

Trusting Mark had been one of the stupidest things he’d ever done. This whole idea of finding someone new to Dom him was stupid. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he should’ve outgrown this—the need to be tied down.

In the eyes of his parents, being gay was a complete aberration. The rest of it further branded him a sick little boy according to his mother, after he confessed what he’d been doing with John to the psychologist she’d forced him to visit.

He’d nearly been locked up in a psych facility—they’d threatened him with that to within an inch of his life. He’d stopped seeing John for a month.

She’d followed him to John’s house one afternoon and confronted them. Although John stood up for him like no one had—both before and after he was kicked out—he knew it wouldn’t do any good.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to his parents in ten years. They referred to him as sick, tried to bring charges against John for attempting to control their son.

Ultimately, they’d been forced to drop the whole thing, because there was no merit. Beyond that, the scandal would’ve proved too embarrassing for them. They’d already dealt with more than they could handle.

The Navy had been thrilled to acquire him. The Coast Guard fought for him as well, wanted him to be a rescue swimmer, but Glen refused to make a career out of something that brought him so many bad memories. He’d agreed to fly Navy choppers into combat situations because it was so totally out of his knowledge base and comfort zone, and he’d fucking loved it.

The prospect of sharing all this with Derek made him want to pull the covers over his head and hide, even though he was far from a coward.

But he’d never expected to connect with anyone this quickly. And there was no doubt in his mind that he had.

He caught a flash of Derek coming up from behind Mark—the rest happened in a split second that made Glen watch with pride and trepidation.

“You don’t touch him—or talk to him ever again,” Derek said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.