At that point I have to say I was probably laughing inside. There’s no telling what Cam was thinking. I didn’t take forever. I came back to the room as quickly as I could, carrying a bucket of ice. Coffee, check. Ice, check. Supplies, check, check.
A lot of people like to just fall into bed with a lover; they want to be swept away by passion, carried off in the moment and out of control. I like that. We’d certainly had that the previous day, when we’d arrived at the hotel with only one thing on our minds. But this wasn’t about me, and when it’s about my lovers, I employ the opposite strategy. I give them exactly what they need without getting too carried away myself, and it generally works out pretty well.
And
fuck
, I enjoyed the rosy glow that anticipation left on Cam’s skin. I loved the way his breath hitched when I climbed onto the bed, and I caught my own breath when he peeked back at me from under his arm. He was apprehensive, and I liked that too. I wanted him hyperalert, off-balance, even a little afraid.
“Are you into kinky shit?” he asked when I ran my hands over his ass. It felt just like I remembered, like velvet but crisp with hair, wrapped over rock. He couldn’t get any hotter without burning us both alive.
“Define kinky for me.”
“Are you going to hit me? Am I going to have to call you Sir, or—”
“I don’t know. Do you want that? You tell me what you want and what you don’t want. That’s how this works. I like control.” I’d never lied about that. “I like control a lot. But I’m not going to do anything you don’t like.”
He bit his lip.
“This shouldn’t come as a surprise. Are you going to give me what I want? Are you going to relax and let me pleasure you?”
“Yes.” He whispered the word.
“Excellent.” I continued to massage his glutes. I missed the muscles in my right hand hand so much. I only had enough strength to smooth with my right while I could grip and squeeze with my left. I could penetrate him with my right thumb, maybe, but my other fingers still felt too tender. That was reality. It must have been a very uneven massage for him. “Do you like this?”
“Yes,” came a muffled reply. A sigh escaped him. I pulled some massage oil from my kit and warmed it between my palms.
“You should have people to do this for you every day,” I said, smoothing and polishing his skin. The oil made him glisten. “You need minions to anoint you like some South Sea island king or a Greek hero.”
“Now you’re just making fun…”
“I am
not
.” I went higher on his back, up his rib cage to his shoulders, down his arms. While I was doing that, my towel fell off. I let him feel my arousal. As I worked the oil into his skin, my cock bobbed against his ass crack, leaving a damp trail—like kisses. I left a trail of kisses with my lips too, some gentle, some firm. Sometimes I nipped and left light marks from my teeth.
“You are the object of my desire, Cam. I plan to worship every part of you with everything I have. Do you believe me?”
Cam tensed again but nodded. I dropped my hand between his ass cheeks and smoothed oil there. When I indicated he should lift up, he did, pressing his face down into the pillow.
“This is mine.” I rubbed his taint and circled the dark bud of his anus with an oiled finger. “Your ass is all mine.”
He let out a sound like an embarrassed chuckle.
“Say it.” I tapped his pucker to get his attention
Cam’s self-consciousness was clear in his voice. “My ass is yours.”
“When I want it, you’ll bare it for me and let me have it. No questions asked.” I rubbed my thumb over his perineum and fondled his balls with my other hand. When I gave them a squeeze, I felt him shiver.
“All right.”
“It’s a beautiful ass, Cam.”
I swear he giggled.
“Do you like to be slapped?” Some people liked that. I liked a nice pink ass as much as the next guy, but I wasn’t married to it. As far as I was concerned, whatever I did was about Cam, and I liked what he liked. He was out of luck if he needed me to really hurt him, but a little slap was fine with me. I could still do that with my left hand. His shoulders tensed.
“This honesty thing is really getting out of control with you, isn’t it?” he mumbled.
“That’s the deal,” I told him. I rummaged around in my kit, throwing things on the bed: dams, gloves, lube, and scented oils. Maybe I seemed clinical to him and killed his mood. I could understand where he was coming from. He just didn’t know where we were going.
Yet.
“I’m going to rub your ass. I’m going to get it slick, lick it, penetrate it, and spank it if you want me to. I’m going to do all this while I’m mouthing your balls, and jacking your dick. By the time I’m done, you’ll feel like I electrocuted you. You’ll give it up to me each and every time because I’m going to make it so good for you, baby. So good…you’ll beg me for it.”
He swallowed hard.
I leaned over and whispered in his ear. “And I’m going to get off without even touching my dick because just the thought of owning your ass makes me so hot I could come right now.”
“You going to talk dirty to me?” he asked.
“You like that?”
“Yeah.”
“Good then, baby. You’re going to be my new fuck toy.” I grabbed a glove and pulled it onto my right hand. It was a tight fit, a surgical glove liberated from my doctor. A lot of what I had in my kit was lifted from doctors and dentists. I popped an ice cube into my mouth. It was one of those small round ones with a hole in the middle. I pushed it with my tongue so it was clenched between my front teeth and rubbed it along Cam’s spine. It wasn’t easy to talk around ice, but I managed a little. “You’re going to be my ash shlut.”
“Ah.” He squirmed, but I held him fast. “Ah, shit, cold.”
“Mmmhmm. Cohd. Gonna get ya hot. Coo’ you dow’. I’ gonna ’ake ya shweat and ’eg and co’.”
I kept going, down his ass crack, and circled around his hole, his taint, and behind his balls. He shivered and let loose a moan that I knew had more to do with the finger I was circling against his hole than the ice I was melting along his skin. I let the ice drip until it melted, and he stopped squirming.
I pushed on the skin around his asshole like a threat. My well-lubed finger barely breached him, and he sucked in a deep, shuddering breath.
“You going to let me in?”
He nodded and tucked his head down without speaking.
“Open for me Cam. Push back and show me how much you want me inside you.” He shoved back hard as I rocked my finger in. He was so tight, so hot. I could barely get a finger inside him. He was all muscle, all power, yet he presented his most delicate, his most intimate skin for my touch. His feet lay visible between his ass and the bed, one crossed over the other, soles up. I brushed one with the tip of my finger, and it wiggled.
Ah, man. I was a goner for Cam, and he probably knew it.
But he was so tight, his ass fought me, and I took that as a sign that I needed to go slower, to be gentler. To try harder.
“Maybe you need a little convincing.” I took a swig of coffee before laying a latex dam against the puckered skin of his ass. When I breached him with my tongue it had to be warm, nearly hot, by contrast.
“Ah.” His hips jerked. “Ah, fuck.
Fuck
.”
I arrowed my tongue as firmly as I could and fucked him with it, licking around the hole and fluttering along the rim, then diving in, pushing as far as I could, digging until he cried out, until he tensed and twisted, begging. With my ungloved hand I got more ice, and put it in the side of my cheek, starting again, this time with a cold tongue, a cool mouth, while I used my cool hand to fondle his balls and start stripping his dick.
Hot, cold, tongue
and
fingers
. I used everything I had, even the vibrations of my voice at different pitches as I purred and hummed against his skin. I brushed his sweet spot from the outside while I thumbed it from the inside. He began to moan, his body trembling, so I mouthed his balls and nuzzled his perineum. Finally, I had to have him roll over so I could suck him and fuck him with my fingers at the same time. I nudged him, and he turned and stretched out, unfurling for me like some big naked-man bounce house while I slipped a condom over his leaking cock and tongued his tight balls.
I gloved my left hand and lubed it, slipping in three fingers while I mouthed his dick. When he cried out, I gave his cock all my attention, letting him rock between my mouth and my hand until my fingers rubbed his prostate again and again and he jerked each time, out of control, hungry, and reaching for climax, incoherent with need.
His thighs trembled, and his jaw hung open. He gripped my head and fucked up into my mouth. Thank fuck I have no gag reflex to speak of, because he used me like I’ve never been used, and I fucking
loved
it. I’d been humping against his knee and knew I would probably come when he did. I welcomed it. I let go, and he jerked a few more times and so did I, my hips snapping up and back, until my blood sang through my veins and climax was an unstoppable train for both of us.
He screamed my name once as he lost control—just said “
Daniel
,” as though he’d been Tasered, as though he’d fallen off a cliff or flown into the sun, and the last thing he thought about before oblivion was me.
The sound alone filled me with satisfaction, but the rest of it… I rocked against his muscled leg until that first electric tingling surge of my release hit my spine, and I let go and spattered cum into the sweat that pooled between us.
Fuck yeah, you are mine now, Cameron Rooney. Take that you big bastard. This is as good as it gets.
His cock throbbed and warmed against my tongue, and he froze inside my mouth. I held my breath while he gasped for his.
Finally he fell back against the pillows, arms to his sides, still shivering. I crawled up to lie beside him, dropping all the latex and that used condom off the side of the bed. I admit I was proud of myself.
Cam rose up on his side and leaned over to kiss me. He certainly enjoyed intimacy after sex. I know I did, and I could have kissed Cam for hours—just lipped and sucked and nuzzled him—because he was sweet and I’d pleased him. He smiled against my mouth and rubbed my nose again with his. When I was a kid, we’d called those Eskimo kisses. I wondered what the politically correct term was now. Whatever Cam did, he did it with his usual bad-boy charm, and I had to grin back and nip his lips in return.
“You melted my brain.”
I resisted the urge to ask him whether he believed that was a great loss.
He seemed content to look down at me with a stupid smile on his face. I was pretty content too, but I felt like I was still on the control clock, and I was trying not to let on.
He curled up then, lying with his cheek on my chest. It felt good to hold him like that. I wrapped my arms around his upper torso, one arm under his and one around his neck. It was like cuddling up with a tree trunk, but he was oddly childlike about it and it warmed my heart. He brushed his lips over one of my nipples and rubbed his face on my chest hair before falling almost immediately to sleep.
For a while I just held him there: a satisfied Cameron Rooney, who stretched out in my arms and whuffled little soft snore noises against my breastbone.
Score.
He lifted a knee and nearly emasculated me with it, trying to get closer. I kissed the soft blond hair at his temple and rested next to him, squeezing him a little harder than strictly necessary, because he was fast asleep, no one could see me, and I was too relaxed and happy to worry about wanting to hold him so much.
Chapter Fifteen
When I woke later, Cam was making use of my lube and pushing my legs over my head, and just like that, I realized he liked to be in control very much; it was simply that he liked it
all
, and a lot of men didn’t bother tapping into the vast smorgasbord of
fuck yeah, let’s try it
, served up all day, every day at Cameron Rooney’s sexual buffet.
Any license to control I’d received earlier in the day had been revoked, and there was the distinct aroma of one-upmanship in the air.
Even then, even when he was stretching me and lining himself up, even when he was pinching my nipples and gauging my reaction, he was careful. Even as the popping of his hips plunged his cock into me inch by inch—eventually I swear I felt it at the back of my throat, driven by those thick glute muscles up my ass and beyond—he was so careful with me, it almost choked me up.
He’d put a pillow between my body and my damaged arm and settled my hand on a thick pad of folded blankets. While he wrapped my good arm around his neck and encouraged me to hold on, he gently stroked my injured hand every so often with his. It was curiously, dangerously tender—like inviting someone’s grandmother to dance at a wedding—even though he had his dick up my ass and his eyes challenged me to complain if he popped his hips so hard my head slammed into the headboard.
“You’re just accident-prone, you know that?” Cam took pity on me and pulled a pillow up between my skull and the wood.
He reared up and shifted to get more traction, gripping my shoulder and my hip, and pounded me into that mattress like a fucking porn star. My head rang and my legs trembled, and I made this noise,
ah, whimper
, with every thrust. He angled his dick a whole new way so that it ground over my prostate as he gave my cock a few quick pumps. My eyes rolled back into my head, and the last thing I saw before I nearly blacked out was his face, grinning down at me.
“Good, huh?”
I responded by splattering cum all over; it ribboned through the air like the searchlights outside a movie premiere, all over both of us.
My ass clamped convulsively around his cock, and he jerked a few times, muttering, “Yeah, baby. Oh, fuck, that’s it. Give me everything you got. Yeah…yeah…
yeah
.”
After a while he pulled out and dropped the condom over the side of the bed where I’d dropped everything else. “Fuck yeah.”