Jon:

I’ll be the first to admit I thought I had it figured out. Apparently I do not. Micah wants me. He wants my control. But…he ran. My head is spinning as I sit here on the couch; the image of him lying across my lap is throbbing in my mind. His orgasm scared me. I don’t want to hurt Micah. And yeah, I know, I know, the spanking wasn’t real pain. But what if Micah is too broken?

For the third time my cell started ringing, this time I looked at it. Jacob.

“Yeah.”

“Micah called me.” Oh shit. I feel like this guy is our marriage counselor. Wait. Isn’t he? “I can stay out of it.”

“What did he say?” Stay out of it? Is he nuts!? “I do want to make this work, Jacob.”

“I see why you confuse him. Don’t beat around the bush with him, Jon. He said you are confusing him. Tell me what happened?” You know, I think Jacob actually gets off on this. Maybe if it was anyone else I would be offended.

“I arranged to run into him at school. We went to my house. And the second he was in the door he started to strip.”

Jacob’s indrawn breath was my reaction too. At the time. “Conditioning. You said started to.”

“I told him to finish it. He did.”

“What did he say to you?”

“I am not sure. He was uptight…anxious…sort of undone. I was trying to get him to calm down. And he was suddenly going to run out. I grabbed him—“

“What did he say?”

“I think…he wanted to know why I was angry. But, I wasn’t angry until he—“

“Liar.” Jacob hung up on me.

Fuck. Tossing the cell on the table I leaned back on the sofa, my hands shaking. Hell yeah, I am angry. I am jealous. Hungry. Scared. My cheeks are wet. Reminding me of the rivers of tears he had started crying when he came here. The tears had started in the car and never stopped. I wanted to lick them off of his face now. Closing my eyes I listened to his words. Trying to hear him.

Look at me Jon! Can you hear me? Am I supposed to prove to you I am recovered?

Micah has been in therapy. Where they have been telling him his feelings towards me are unnatural. Makes sense, if it were true. He was tortured. And it was wrong. But it changed him. Forever. The person he is will never “recover” the illusion he lived under before. However he got here, he is the man he was meant to be. Mine. It thrills me, and that is an understatement, that he is mine. I am so excited at the prospect of facing my life with him. Honestly, I imagine waking up with him beside me, seeing him in my kitchen naked. Sprawled on my lap. It doesn’t even occur to me that this won’t happen.

Who do you belong to, little man?

You, Jon.

Okay, find him. Jesus Christ. I call Jacob back and he quite willingly gives me his cell number.

Keys. Where the fuck are my keys? It takes me about thirty seconds to realize he stole my car. I could cum just imagining spanking him again. I had left him on the couch because I was twenty seconds from raping him. I mean seriously. I wanted inside him so bad I didn’t have the ability to be careful. In the shower, I took the edge off, and here I am again. I need to carry lube around. That is all there is to it.

Calling Marcus, I am not aware of how rough my voice is until he asks me what the problem is.

“He stole my car.”

“What the fuck? Who stole your car?”

“My lover.” Okay, there it is out there. “Micah. He is a little hellion.”

Silence. “So, not just a phase?”

“Are you kidding me, Marcus? Have you ever been to your fiancée’s cousin’s house?” My partner is not usually so dense.

“Uh, no. She is afraid to let me go over there.” Marcus is stumbling here.

“Look. Is it a problem because this means I am gay? Because the truth is, I am not. My sexual orientation is entirely fixated on Micah.” And that is true. I love sex with Micah, but it isn’t just sex with him. I haven’t had sex with anyone since him. Almost a year.

“Dude, it isn’t easy to be a gay cop. But, not here. Leo is gay, and his partner works in property. And they are not exactly discreet. But, this is something else. This is the guy you…bought. And, he is like a kid.” Marcus is right. There is going to be a fuss.

“He is also a former FBI agent. He is a fucking genius.”

“With a record.”

“White collar. I’d love to see his record.”

“It is sealed.” Okay, so Marcus was looking too. “What do you want me to do about your car.”

“Just watch for it. I will find him. Just, wanted to talk.” Wow, what an admission. I was calling to chat with my friend.

“Well, um. Cool.” That seemed to please Marcus. “You are not going to have this guy on a leash or some shit everywhere?”

I laughed. It sounded sexy, but no. “No, but he is naked when he is home. I don’t give a fuck who comes over.”

“You are serious.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you worry that you are messed up? That he is?”

“Actually, I have been seeing a psychiatrist. An expert. And no, I am not worried. I am relieved. I feel like this past year some idiot Bureau shrink has mucked about in Micah’s head and now I have to fix it. Micah was hurt, terribly by the Ring. But, honestly it doesn’t matter, how it happened. He is who he is, and so am I. It works.”

“You’ve been seeing a shrink. Not Greta.”

“No. Not Greta. I like her. She is great. But not right. And, I would imagine she is gonna be a little unhappy about this.” Hmm. Maybe even a little freaked out.

“Yeah. I’ll reserve my judgment. You’ve been a rock for six years, until recently. I’d like to see you happy.”

“Call me if you see my truck.”

“Will do.”

In my mind I am realizing that every minute I am not with Micah is a minute lost. I want to fuck him so badly my teeth hurt. This condo isn’t big enough. He needs more. But, I am just a cop. There are a lot of things we need to talk about. And I know that I need to do that talking before the fucking. Seriously, I know it. God, I will try. Flipping open the phone I try dialing him again….

“What?” he says saucily. He answered!

“Micah. Where is my car?” Not what I wanted to ask! “ Dammit, sorry.”

“It is parked near where you picked me up today. I went back to school.” His voice is making my dick throb. Seriously, I ache in my pants. He doesn’t sound mad, but he does sound…anxious.

”I am not angry with you.” Well that is good.Gotta get that out there. “I do want to talk.” Then why am I unbuttoning my pants? Leaning back I pray he will stay on the phone longenough for me to cum. How nuts is that?

“You seemed angry,” he argues softly, his breathing is hitched. I can hear people in the background, but not close.

“What are you doing now?”

“Waiting for the bus.”

“I was jealous.” I finally answer his question. “Not angry.”

“Jealous?” That was a gasp. He is surprised? Dismayed? “I don’t understand you sometimes, Jon.”

“I don’t think you always will.” God! My desire to call him by endearments, ‘Baby,’ I thought . It is weird. But, there it is. “But, I want you to try.” This inspired another gasp or sharp inhalation. My erection is burning with need. Fisting my hand I stroke down, curling my fingers across my balls and it makes me groan.

“Are you okay?”

“No. I miss you.” Honestly, I have to tell him these things. But it isn’t easy.

“Is that why you spanked me?” He brought that up, not me! I had to take my hand off of my dick. Or cum. And, I am not ready to.

“I spanked you because you wanted me to.” Lie? I am not sure.

“I did not!”

“I wanted to. And yes, you did too. Hell, Micah, you came all over my lap!” I argued. Fuck, not even touching myself and I can feel it looming.

“Not sure why that happened,” he said softly, and I sensed anxiety. “Just did. I wanted to know why you were angry.”

“I am not angry.”

“You sound angry.”

“This is the sound of frustration. Not anger. I want you so much I am hurting.”

“Oh god.” He sucked in a breath. “I should go…”

“Yeah, go get the car, come back here.” I said softly. “Come on, baby,” urging him, and my dick pulsed. He is panting.

“Jon…please…” he begged throatily. Oh yeah. I came. With a shout and it must have scared him because he was silent for a long time, until my breathing settled. Then he giggled. Well fuck, even his giggle is sexy. “I have plans tonight, going to a party. On 10th and Harrison. That sounded really awesome, Jon.“ And he hung up on me.

What is it with people and hanging up on me?

He laughed. He told me where he was going to be…at a party. Is he nuts? Most people hate it when the cops show up. Not that I wear a uniform, but still. I am 35 years old now.

I feel relaxed.

Micah

My new friends call me Mike. When Jon says my name I get warm all over. I feel like being forced to use this variation of my name is another form of bondage. I resent it and look forward to having my name back. But then, with Jon, I don’t need it. When he says ‘baby’ or ‘little man’ I melt. He came for me today and I am so excited just thinking about being in his life. He is showing me, Jacob says, that he wants that. But, I am still uneasy.

My therapist says it is wrong. The way I feel about Jon. She says I need a relationship based on equality. Not control. I have thought about this for months. Little else, really. Then I saw him. Now, I thought when I saw him again I might feel weird. But, I also thought I pretty much had convinced myself what had happened really didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. I have issues, yeah, but I don’t really want to belong to Jon. It is just a fantasy right? Uh, no.

I have never had another lover. His was my first kiss. Maybe the first time was a little rough, but the second time? That was gold. How many people can say they have had an out of body experiences when they were being fucked? How many people describe their first sexual relationship as incredible?

When he told me he was jealous, I thought, THANK YOU GOD. But then I thought,‘Jealous of who? What?’

When is he going to take me home? Well, today doesn’t count. I didn’t know what he was doing. Besides which, he didn’t either. I am not mad about the spanking. I needed it. I think I need it again. I just wish he had kept going. You see he didn’t hurt me, I don’t want him to hurt me. I just want a reminder. Of where I belong. That is what I was looking for.

The party I was going to was a LAN party. I wasn’t bringing a PC, but was going to play Halo with the group. But, it was also Friday Night, there was bound to be beer, girls, and just about anything else. Many of the guys I know are bi or gay. Most of them don’t drink or smoke heavily. I was looking forward to getting high tonight. And I refuse to feel guilty about that. But, I won’t do it now.

By 10:30 I am wondering if maybe I should change my mind. Perry has asked me twice to go outside and smoke with him. The only problem is that Perry keeps rubbing his hand over my ass. I like him, he is cute, and when he looks at me I know he thinks I am sexy. But he has asked me twice if I am interested and twice I have told him no. Thankfully, the network crashes right when he is about to make a pass at me. The distraction gives me enough room to squeeze around him where he had me pinned in the stairwell and head down to the rec room where the network hub and server are. At least three guys are arguing about how to fix the problem.

Too many chiefs and all that. Listening to them I surmise the problem is hardware, not software and I crawl under the table, while they continue to argue. What a mess! The network hub is covered with dust, there are cables that are going no where, a result of a previous party. Above me I hear a deep voice, and a squeal of laughter. Finally, I clean up the CAT 5’s and then the battery back-up. Backing out, “Nate, next time you should put the hub on its own table—“

“I thought you weren’t supposed to touch computers, Micah?”

Whack! Ouch, I beaned my head on the table.

Turning around, still sprawled on the floor I look up, god, he is so beautiful. His height is exaggerated from down here, not to mention the way his black jeans hug his thighs and the white button shirt untucked, sleeves rolled, make him look bigger. Behind him, Sherry is practically drooling beside Paul, her bi boyfriend. The thump of the music upstairs seems to keep time with my heart.

“This guy says he knows you,” she says pertly, her eyes sweeping over him as if she simply cannot tear her gaze away. Jon does that to people. He is used to being the center of attention and merely smiles.

“Technically I am not touching the computer, Jon. And yes, Sherry, he does.” Why does his expression make me want to stick my tongue out at him impertinently?

“Biblically!” Jon smiles. The reference is difficult to grasp for some.

“You invited some religious guy?” Perry asks. Wow, I am so relieved I never let him kiss me. Sherry is laughing and Paul is looking at me in shock.

“Seriously? This, “ he gestures at Jon, waving his hand from down to above his head, “is with you?” His eyes are bugging out with fascination.

“Don’t you think it is semantics, Micah?” He squats down, tilting his head at me, “You are right, what a mess.”

“Why is he calling you Micah?” Perry continues, and he moves closer, fingering the edge of the table I am practically under.

“It is my name.”

“Why can’t you touch computers?”

“It is a part of his parole,” Jon answers for me.

“I was just playing X-box but the network went down, these guys are playing WoW. Do you want to play Halo with me, Jon?” I smile and start to get up. But Perry is right there and he hooks his arm beneath mine, and oh shit.

“Don’t touch him.” Jon locks his hand around Perry’s wrist and I stumble back to the floor.

“Maybe I should stay down here,” I mutter.

Perry groans, and tries to pull away, and Jon’s little shove is barely repressed violence. Perry is speechless, a condition not usually associated with him.

“Your parole?” someone asks.

“Yeah. You wanna tell em what I did, Mr. Information.” I glower teasingly at my man. My khaki shorts feel tighter, and the shirt on my chest is really starting to bug me.

“To be honest, I am not sure. Your record is sealed,” he shrugs.

“I could locate it and you could read it,” I offer.

“And violate the terms of your parole by hacking into the DOD again?”

“I love it when you talk dirty, Jon,” Paul laughs. “Tell me, Mike, you can’t really hack into the Department of Defense, can you?”

“Don’t need to, my attorney’s office network would have the records.” I finally manage to get to my feet. Two of the computers are free and all eyes are on me. I sit down, glancing over my shoulder at Jon. Perry mutters something about going outside to smoke his prime Columbian weed and Jon’s eyes roll in his head.

“Smoking tonight, Micah?”

“No, Jon. Why would I risk a repeat of this afternoon?” My fingers are flying on the keyboard. “Incidentally, what the hell difference does it make if I do use a computer or not, do you really think they are ever going to find out? You could arrest me for a dozen things already. Somehow, I doubt this is going to do it.”

“Arrest?” someone says, “are you a cop?”

Jon just smiles at me. “Feels weird to see you with your clothes on. Never could get into the FM file you password protected. I thought for sure you meant for me to be able to.”

“It is voice protected.” And his exhale tells me that never occurred to his technicians. “Here we go. Downloading now…and bingo, one record of Micah Rafael Lfani. If I stripped, would you feel better?” I stand and he is so close, I feel the heat of him at my back. Leaning around me he reads over my shoulder, “I could go upstairs while you—“ His hand rests on my hip, and he vetoes the idea.

“Dude, did you just hack a law firm?” someone asks.

Jon closes the file, and his arm goes around my waist. I can feel his hard-on and his gun. Perry comes weaving back in and Jon says, “Incidentally, Perry. That weed is not Columbian; it’s Californian, maybe Hawaiian. The Columbian cartel imports only cocaine this far north. It’s shit but, hey, what are ya gonna do?”

“Yeah right dude, how the fuck would you know?”

“You ready to go?” Jon whispers in my ear. Yeah I am. God am I.

“Yes, Jon.”

“I am a narcotics detective. Be glad, very glad I have other things on my mind. If you even think about my boyfriend’s ass again…” He doesn’t have to finish that thought. He smiles at Sherry and thanks her and he practically carries me out of the house. What was I doing there anyway?

As we reached his car I turned in his arms, the words wrenched out of me, “You came for me!” I jumped on him and his gasp was smothered with my mouth. He didn’t push me away, didn’t fight my embrace. He took over the kiss softly. Opening to me, and his hands swirled down my back and cupped my ass, pulling me up against him. His mouth slid past my jaw and caressed my throat, and we were both clutching each other vigorously. My back came up against his truck, and I felt his teeth on my shoulder beneath my collar. “I missed you so much…” I said softly, suddenly filled with sorrow and aching with memories.

“I should never have let you go,” he said gently, raising his face and looking down at me. “It won’t happen again, Micah. Do you understand? I can’t do it again.” His mouth brushed mine delicately. “Let’s go home.”

“Yes, Jon.” His shiver told me all I needed to know. I was his. He wasn’t fighting it.

Inside the condo he stands back watching me, his gaze fierce as I strip my clothes away. But, this time it doesn’t confuse me. I know what he is doing. He is showing me he is in control. He tried to do it earlier. It wasn’t a game. It wasn’t a test. It was his love.

Naked, I realize his condo is cool. Usually he keeps the AC off. Well, usually being relative to the fact that I have only been here a couple of times. I shiver. My nipples are tight, and I rub my arms.

“Don’t do that,” he says quietly. “Keep your arms at your sides.” Oh god. It feels so good. He is only touching me with his eyes. “Come over here.”

Walking to him I am impatient for his touch and he knows it. Does he want me to speak? Earlier he told me to shut up. “Jon, I need to know the rules. Can I speak?”

“The rules will change, little man. But yes, you can unless I ask you to be silent. But, you can always stop me. Always, baby.” He moved behind me, and I finally felt the brush of his fingers on my shoulders. “How many times did Perry try to –“

“He asked me out many times. I always said no,” I answered quickly. “No one, Jon. No one but you.” His relief was tangible. He was a jealous man. Possessive. I love it. I want him to know I am his. But he beat me to it.

His hand closed over my wrist. He turned it and raised it to his mouth, brushing his lips over the tattoo. “1617272007,” he said aloud. “What does it mean?” Gently he urged me forward.

“Where do you want me to go?” I asked as I walked hesitantly.

“The bed.” Of course. “What does it mean?” The bed lay before me, my knees against it. He pushed gently, so gently. I knelt, “Scoot forward and lay on your stomach.”

“It has meaning, and definition. The numbers are: One hundred and sixty one. I was captive for 160 days. The date I…was reborn was July 27, 2007. “

“Micah. What does it mean?” He handed me a pillow, and together we put it beneath my hips. Slowly I lay forward, supporting my chest on my elbows and forearms. The heat of his palm swept over my back and down one thigh, tugging, he spread my legs. The air between them made me inhale sharply. I felt vulnerable.

“It is a symbol of…I don’t know, freedom.” I answered softly. His hand tightened on the back of my foot. I was lying to him. But, I never said it out loud to myself. I wasn’t ready to say it to him. I got that tattoo to remind me of him. Of his possession. He sighed and I felt the soft fabric for the first time around my ankle. Startled I tried to pull up on my knees by drawing my feet forward. I was tied, my ankles spread.

“Relax.” He pushed again, this time firmly, on the small of my back. “If you try to get up, I will tie your hands.” He reached around me and I covered my eyes with a soft dark blue fabric. Brushed silk, soft and breathable. I couldn’t help it, between my arousal and anxiety, I made a sound, a soft inarticulate cry. “Shhh, beautiful. Shhh…I’ve got you.” he whispered against my ear. His voice was gravelly, rough with emotion. He was aroused, dangerously so. It astounds me that this incredible, powerful male has chosen me. I am scrawny. I weigh close to 125lbs now. My muscles are toned, but I am not that strong, not tough at all. “Relax for a few minutes.” The muscles of my arms were shaking from holding myself so tensely; he pried my hands free and helped me relax onto my stomach, resting my cheek on a firm pillow. “Just rest.” He rose from the bed. “Don’t think about anything, just rest.” And he left me there. I was able to untie myself if I needed to. He was offering me safe restraint. Teaching me to trust him. I fell asleep. How lame, I fell asleep.

I woke up with him. I wasn’t tied. He was asleep too, his leg over mine, his arm behind my neck. The weight of his thigh is really something, but the pressure wasn’t confining, it was comforting. Drowsily, I reached out, and touched it. Soft springy hair teased my fingertips. In the darkness I could only feel him. And how. His soft cock was against my leg; his broad palm was flat on my stomach. He didn’t wake as I felt him. I ran my hand up over his, along his powerful forearm. The hair there was fine, but dense enough to catch between my fingers. The soft indentation of his elbow flared upward over the powerful layers of muscle in his upper arm. He has muscle on his muscle. The ball of his shoulder is bunched with it. And his neck is corded and the skin rough with hair under his jaw. He is fair-haired, but could shave twice a day.

But, his chest is relatively hair free. There is just a fine line between his pectoral muscles and a faint v in the center, trailing down to his navel and growing dense below to his groin. By the time I discovered the flat dense muscles of his chest, my knuckles bumping over his nipples he was awake. His heart beat hastening the pulse tickling my palm. He relaxed under my exploration, falling back onto his back. I hesitated.

“Go on,” he said softly.

I had to feel what I was getting into. This was the man I was giving myself over to. Trusting with my body. He must have understood. I snuggled up against his side, I am still sleepy, and this exploration is not hurried or intent. The indentation below his upper lip is soft, the hair there silky for some reason. A breath trembles his mouth with my fingertips so near. I know how I love it when he touches my lips, so I trail my finger over the full swell pressing and it gets moist. He opens for me, and I dip my finger inside, rubbing the edge of his lower teeth. His tongue finds my finger and we play with each other. His tongue is so strong. A memory of his lips and tongue on my bottom makes me suck in a rough breath.

Squeezing his lower lip between my thumb and forefinger as a farewell, I trail my moist fingers down his jaw and over to his arm again. He is hot, his skin radiating heat. The room is still cool, but with him I don’t need a blanket. Pushing his arm upward, I draw my fingers under it, sweeping into his armpit, tugging gently on the hair there. I have lain as still as I am able. Turning my body I press my face to his chest beside my fingers, inhaling deeply and his scent is earthy, warm and musky. He is damp with sweat, but clean.

Drawing my knees up I switched from all fingers of one hand to both hands and my mouth. Licking the skin and hair beneath his arm, I buried my face there and he groaned, his body tensing. I spent time here, sucking and tasting, because his scent and flavor are everything in my world. I might have hurried if I realized how close he was to taking over. But I didn’t. So, when I left and trailed my lips, my wet face and my hands across his lower rib cage, I became aware that he was no longer passive. I was bent, in the darkness, over his stomach, my fingers dipping into his navel when his hand drew down my spine and dipped none to subtly into the crack of my ass. I nipped at the hard ridge of muscle, beside his cock where it lay fat and engorged on his muscular belly.

“Okay, little man,” he growled, and his voice sent a tingle through me. “Straddle me, put your thighs on my chest here by my shoulders.” He pulled me, til I lay 69 but not upright, my knees on the bed beside his shoulders, my shins rising up on his pillow, my butt open in front of his face and his cock below mine. I know, as soon as he gets his tongue anywhere near…I am gonna go out of my mind. And I really want him deep in my throat when that happens.

The throb of the vein along his dick pulses against my lips as I slide them expertly over the head of his magnificent rod. The spongy wide head strokes my tongue, scraping as I cup it with the flared edges of my tongue and bumping into my throat. I stiffen, fighting the gag reflex right as his thumbs come together on the globs of my ass cheeks, pulling and opening me to his mouth. He tightens them, and I inhale through my nose and slide down, taking Jon’s cock to the root into my throat. He jerks, and I suck as I draw up and his tongue dances over my opening.

His hips respond to my downward bob by thrusting up in time with his tongue and the sensation of it makes me throb inside. I hum as my own orgasm, my swollen cock pinned firmly between my pelvis and his chest, abraded by the hard muscle, throbs in need. He knows, and his hand dips between his chin and my nuts, locking his finger around them he pulls them back, tightening in a near painful grip. He is telling me silently, as he thrusts into my throat, not to cum. I groan, and the vibration dances along the path downward as his tongue pops into me, and his finger follows. I shiver, rocking my head, shaking with need. Then I feel his hand on my head, he pulls against my hair and slides me off his dick roughly. A second finger joins the first and “You are too tight for me to cum in your mouth and then fuck you, Micah. I want to cum here,” his fingers jab deep and the sting makes me arch and cry out, his fingers have only his saliva as lube and there is some pain.

But, he knows that. And he gentles, still licking beside his fingers, slowly removing them. “Jon…”

“Yeah, little man?” He slides his arm beneath me and lifts me over onto my back, rolling and drawing himself up.

“I need you.” This is a plea. Spoken softly, with emotion. It isn’t just physical need. I say this like I am afraid. I need him so much it frightens me.

“I know. But Micah?” he says softly, spreading my legs and pushing them back to my chest as he lays over me, his powerful body a long caress over my throbbing dick and his chest scraped the insides of my thighs, his thighs hugging the outside of my bottom.

“Yes, Jon?” I gasp, my hands reaching for him.

“I need you too,” he says softly, punctuating the declaration with a warm kiss, his lips open as he dives into my mouth with his tongue. His dick head slides lewdly up over my perineum and brushes aside my testicles to come to rest pinned side by side with mine on my stomach. He lifts his hand and I arch automatically, but he reaches above me and stretching his body, pins our groins together almost painfully. The soft snick of a bottle cap popping open makes me shiver. His body is trembling. He is close.

So close that I don’t move for fear of setting him off. “Jon…it means I belong to you, the tattoo. Every day.” His wet hand comes between us and his forefinger dabs in a circle around my opening, pressing firmly he pops in and I jerk with…not quite pain. Discomfort for a moment then he swirls, “I could have some tangible, permanent thing that reminded me of you.” I stretched, my legs pushing on him when he pressed a second finger.

“Did you jack off thinking of me?” he asked, almost angrily. I tensed, “Shh, it’s alright, I just want you so much right now, I feel mad. But, I am not mad,” he quickly explained.

I still shivered, “No.”

He stilled. “No?” he asked incredulously.

“I didn’t jack off. Sometimes I would wake up, thinking of you and just cum. But, I felt…like I was betraying you if I…” His fingers twisted in me, pumping in and out and his other hand was holding my cock, his thumb stroking the pool of precum, his fingernail scraping my skin. The orgasm hit me, and I heard him laugh distantly, as a third finger found and fucked my quivering hole. Cum spurted in splashes onto my stomach, wetting his hand, which he stroked over my stomach and chest, smearing me with my own semen. He drew a glob of it between his fingers and raised it to his mouth.

“You have a hair trigger,” he said on a smile. “Maybe you should have masturbated more.” The pulsing finger fuck continued, evenly spaced, and his hand kept toying with my pulsing dick, the over-sensitivity making me thrash but slowly I grew hard again. “I could do this all day…” He groaned, “feel inside of you. You are hot, tight…the clasp of your body tightens around my fingers every time I withdraw.”

“Take me.”

“Not yet,” he whispered and he bumped that place, and I realized he’d been avoiding my prostate. Until now. The touch on it was like a jolt, my cock pulsed and liquid oozed out of it, suddenly rock hard and throbbing again. “Like that?”

“Yess…Oh, ah…Jon!” Gasping for air as he slid his finger across it again, my butt clenched and he groaned, spreading his fingers, the stretch painful and intensely pleasurable at the same time.

He leaned back, his fingers sliding free, he cupped my ass in both hands, and thumbs spreading me as his dick, unguided unerringly found the swollen pucker. “Micah?”

“Yes, Jon!” I shook, trying to hold it together. This is my man, claiming me. But, damn his cock is big, and last time it hurt quite a bit. I am more than a little anxious.

“Do you love me?”

God yes! How can he not know? “I was born for you. On July 27th, I was born to love you. I love you!” I screamed and the head of his phallus snapped past my anal ring, the sharp lance piercing me and I cried out. The burn chased up my thighs and I bore down, trying to relieve it.

“That’s it, push against me…come on, little man. You can take it,” he urged. “Think about how badly you want my big dick inside of you…”

“Yes, yes…” I groaned. Is that my voice? That gasping ragged cry? He flexed his muscles and the motion deepened his penetration and I felt like he was shoving a telephone pole up my ass. No amount of lube was going to…a sharp point of pleasure slicked over me, pain and joy. “More…” He didn’t need any more urging. It hurt, god did it hurt. But he pressed, rocking his hips in a circular motion, going in at the top of the circle and drawing back at the bottom. I whimpered, the sound of hurt and pleasure mingling.

“There…” he growled, “Now you know you are mine.” He jerked, and his cock slid home and I screamed. But he didn’t withdraw, he held firm. “Breath Micah,” he ordered, and his hands tapped my bottom, squeezing my thighs because I was pushing against him, automatically trying to shove him off of me. The pain was really something, my belly cramped and dimly I felt woozy with it. I felt virginal. How could it be easier last time?

Does he read my mind? You decide. “It was easier before, because the whip conditioned you to the pain before I took you. And the next day, I spent more time opening you. And it was the second fuck. This time, all the discomfort is focused on the invasion of your ass. Try to breathe, Micah.” He said eveyrthiing so matter-of-factly, and gently, that I started to cry. I felt bad, that I was hurting. “Shh, darling. It will get easier. Try to just relax…” He kept stroking my thighs, my bottom, my hips, and as he would draw downward, he would lean back just a bit, tiny movements inside of me. The burning clasp of my muscles hummed and eased.

“I…I’m sorry…” I whined. “Ah…” I cried again, as he drew back a couple of inches and thrust forward. But, the pain on the inward thrust didn’t arrive. Air whooshed out of me.

“Baby, reach your arms above your head and grab the bars of the head board,” he ordered gruffly. My arms were shaking, so he helped me, stretching me, and as he leaned forward his hips rotated back, drawing him out of me. Not completely, but close. My fingers closed around the cool metal. This was a new head board. It wasn’t here the first time. I smiled tremulously. Then he grabbed his cock and fed it back into my stretched opening, and this time the pain was merely an afterthought.

My hips pushed back seeking his and he laughed wickedly. “I can’t wait anymore, Micah.,” he said gruffly and he thrust. The motion buried him in me to the hilt.

“Fuck me, Jon. I am yours,” I swore.

And he did. No more play, no more long-dicking thrusts, just hard short bursts from his hips, jacking into me with a vulgar slap and squish, as I fought to hold myself under him. He held me, his hands clenched on my waist, pulling me into his thrusts and I felt the bruises forming there. They were hard, rough jabs and his mind was not in control. He was reaching, savagely for his release. “Mine!” he roared, “Goddamit Micah, don’t fucking run from me again!” It was an emotional shout. “Do you understand?”

You see, he was angry with me. Angry that I had not tried to stay with him last year. Angry that I had left and stolen his car today. Angry that I would doubt him. “I am yours, Jon.”

“Fuck yeah! I need you so fucking much,.” he groaned. “All I could think about was this, slamming my cock so far into your ass you wouldn’t remember what it was like to not have me there!” He ended on a raging shout, “Micah!” He was shaking with his rage and when he shot, the heat and rush of it was cataclysmic. He pulled so hard on the last thrust my hands tore off of the bar, and he lifted me up onto his knees, as he came I wrapped my arms around him.

“I love you, Jon,” I said through my tears, both arms around his neck, one hand on the back of his head and he sobbed into my shoulder. A faint light came in through the windows. I could see the shadowy reflection of our bodies in the mirrored door of his closet. I was sitting astride his legs, he was still inside of me, but I was leaning back, holding on to him. His eyes bored into mine as the last pulses of his orgasm calmed him.

“I love you, Micah,” he said quietly. “I am sorry if I hurt you.”

I was shaking from head to toe, and yes my ass was on fire. Liquid heat was dripping around his cock, stinging me. But, there was no pain per se. “I am fine,” I said softly. “I love the way you hurt me…” I smiled, “it isn’t a bad pain. It is a right pain.” I wiggled my bottom and he gasped. Jon likes control, but sometimes, like this time, he needed to lose it.

“That day,” he said softly, his arms going around my back, “in the truck. When I removed that chastity belt,” His eyes closed and his expression was almost pained, “I was horrified. And…so fucking aroused as I removed that black rubber plug…” He swallowed, his cheek rubbing mine as he spoke into my ear, “I should have been furious that they touched you and put anything inside of you. But, all I could think was, it gave me an excuse to touch your sweet hole again. To look closely at you. I wanted to dip my fingers inside of you and fuck you with my hand. Just to feel you cum.”

“You were afraid because you thought I was too young?” I could hear his struggle.

“No, I was…just afraid because you were so badly treated. I didn’t really care, Micah. I hated that about myself. But when it came to you, I just didn’t care. I have had a pretty normal hetero life. You flipped a switch in me, and I can’t even think about fucking a woman. Only you. When I jack off, I think of that day. Of fucking you, of your mouth on my cock, of my fingers inside of you.” Gently he moved, sliding me off of him, and it hurt. Of course, the head of his dick popping out of me made me hiss. “Sorry,” he said with a smile.

“You like it.”

“Yes. I like that you are tight, that…you have to adjust to me.” He groaned, “But I don’t actually want to hurt you.”

“I know.” I stretched my legs out and lay on my side, he curled up behind me, “ I should go wash…”

“No, stay here for a bit.” He spooned his heavy dick between my legs, hard and throbbing. “It isn’t sex with you, Micah. It is more. And it won’t be easy living with me. No more drugs, baby.” He nuzzled my throat. “No one else can touch you. I mean it. If some other guy touches you, I want to know. It fucking scares me how I feel about that. I swear to god it is primitive.”

I was aroused, and I gasped when he reached around and closed his hand on my jumping dick, “Jon…I don’t want anyone to touch me. I will never seek it out, and if someone does, I will tell you.”

“I want you naked in the house, no more than your underwear. Turn off the AC if you are cold. I need,” he stressed the word need, “to be able to see you. All of you.” I relaxed in his arms. He was exactly what I needed.

“Yes, Jon.” And he slid away from me, “Jon?”

“Shh, just getting a wash cloth for you.” And he left. When he returned washing me, he had a bowl of warm water, and the bath was tender, and loving and I came into his mouth. He is demanding…and never fails to be giving. My god, what else could I want?