If It Drives (Market Garden, #7)(47)

“You trust me, sir,” he whispered. “So you know I won’t hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“Not more than you want me to hurt you.”

Another shiver. “Yes.”

Cal’s hand drifted over James’s shirttail and onto his bare skin, then down over his arse. “You do want me to hurt you, don’t you?”

“I—” James gasped as Cal slid his hand between his legs, letting his fingertips drift over James’s balls.

“I asked you a question,” Cal growled.

James bit his lip, then managed, “Yes. Please. Hurt me.”

This time it was Nick who shivered. He met Cal’s eyes, and that devilish—downright demonic—grin on his lips was probably identical to the one on Cal’s.

“I brought plenty of toys,” Nick said. “Question is, where do you want to start?”

“His balls. He’s looking entirely too comfortable to me.” For emphasis, Cal closed his hand around James’s sac, and squeezed. James jumped a little, but then opened his legs wider and pushed back.

Cal held him like that, aware that Nick was moving around the table to the bag. He was unspeakably relieved that he didn’t have to break the contact, could stay in James’s space, not spoil the odd chemistry they had right now even for a moment.

Nick rummaged through his implements, and Cal could have sworn that he was clinking the metal more than was strictly necessary, like he was turning over every single piece he’d brought.

Right. Frustration. That went both ways.

Finally, Nick stood again, holding a leather-and-chrome contraption. He moved close, and for a moment, Cal expected Nick to put it on James, but Nick handed it over to him. Cal took it and opened the leather straps, then grabbed James’s cock—completely hard—and fed it through the chrome rings, which got quite tight towards the front. He was half-worried they’d be too tight, but Nick didn’t indicate any kind of alarm.

He closed the leather straps, one behind James’s balls, the other in front. That in itself was restraining, and added a nice sense of confinement. Personally, he loved how James looked—from the waist up, he was still the businessman, tie and cufflinks included, but below that line, he wasn’t in control anymore.

Nick went back to the bag and pulled out a chain and a number of dark, drop-shaped weights. Cal winced in sympathy, but he wanted to see how James responded. Nick handed him the chain, and he clipped it on the ring just behind James’s balls. James shuddered when Cal—very gently—pulled on it.

“Too comfortable by far,” Cal said with a grin.

Nick handed him a couple of the weights next, and Cal put them on, keeping them suspended for a moment, then let James’s balls take more and more of the weight until they were freely dangling. James was breathing hard and clearly trying not to move, but his leg muscles were twitching with the effort.

Nick gave Cal a nod and lifted his hands in an unspoken That’s fine for the moment.

“That comfortable, sir?” Cal asked.

“N-not really,” James muttered.

Cal slapped his arse, grinning when the weights and their chains jingled unobtrusively. “Yes or no.”

“No.” James grimaced. “It’s not comfortable.”

“Does it hurt?”

James swallowed. Deep crevices formed between his eyebrows, and his eyes were still shut tight.

Cal slapped him again. “Yes. Or no.”

“Yes, it hurts,” James ground out through clenched teeth.

“Obviously doesn’t hurt enough to get rid of his attitude,” Nick said with a smirk. “Add one more.”

James swore softly.

Cal picked up one of the weights, and his hand was halfway to James’s balls when he hesitated. He eyed Nick. “Did you just give me an order?”

Nick’s smirk didn’t fade in the slightest. “I don’t know. Did I?”

“Arse,” Cal muttered, and went back to what he was doing.

The third weight brought a groan out of James. “Holy f*ck.”

“Now.” Cal stood straight again and rested his hand on the small of James’s back, just above where his shirttail ended and his nakedness began. “Let’s try this again. Is that comfortable, sir?”

“No.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Cal stroked James’s back, letting his glove drift past the end of his shirttails each time. “And just so you know, if you don’t behave, or if you don’t answer me exactly when I ask a question—and without any attitude, sir—I’m going to make you lean over the other side of the table just like you are now.” He trailed one fingertip over James’s arse cheek towards his confined and weighted cock and balls. “Which means walking around to the other side while you’re in this . . . predicament.”

James whimpered. Cal and Nick both grinned.

“Am I clear, sir?”

“Yes,” James said quickly. He shifted his weight a bit. “Yes. Absolutely clear.”

“Good.”

Nick leaned against the billiards table beside James. “If I recall, he’s the type who stays quite hard while he’s being f*cked.” James’s eyes opened, and his forehead creased with alarm. Nick went on, “And with a device like that on his dick, staying hard is not going to be terribly comfortable. Is it, James?”