If It Fornicates (Market Garden, #4)(23)

Spencer nodded.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes. I am.”

“Good.” Nick slowed his hand, but held on tighter. “And you like it? The way it plays out in your mind?”

“Very much.”

“How do you picture it?” Nick cleared his throat. “What position?”

Spencer sucked in a breath. “I . . . like this. You on . . . you on top of me.”

Nick bit his own lip to mask the gasp. God, this man was a sub right to the bone, wasn’t he? “With your hands bound?”

Spencer nodded. “Maybe even . . . maybe even ankles.”

It never ceased to amaze Nick how much Spencer could turn him on. “You know, it’s been a while.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed, though his eyes were still closed. “What?”

“Since anyone has f*cked me.”

“Oh.” Spencer squirmed, the handcuff chain rattling against the bedframe. “How long?”

“Long enough.” Nick took his time sliding his hand all the way up to the head of Spencer’s cock. Then he gripped even tighter, though of course not too painfully, and just before he started the downstroke, whispered, “Long enough to be very, very tight.”

“Oh God.” Spencer’s eyes flew open as Nick started downward with a tight fist. He arched and squirmed. “Fuck . . .”

“That’s the idea, yes,” Nick said and winked. “And I’ve never taken a man your size before.”

Spencer closed his eyes and whimpered. He thrust upward into Nick’s hand, his cock stiffening.

“You’re not allowed to come yet, you know.”

Spencer released another whimper, one that almost sounded like profanity, and shut his eyes tighter. His hands closed into fists. Opened. Closed again.

Nick stroked him faster. “You won’t be able to come when you f*ck me, either. Not until I say so.”

Spencer opened his eyes, but stared up at the ceiling, mouthing something Nick didn’t understand.

“You wouldn’t come, would you?” Nick asked.

Spencer shook his head. “No. Not . . . not until . . . oh, f*ck . . .”

Nick picked up more speed. “Not until what, Spencer?”

“Until you said so,” Spencer blurted out. “I wouldn’t come. Not until you said so.”

“Good.” Nick pumped faster. “I’m going to let you come very soon.”

Spencer whimpered again, thrusting into Nick’s hand.

“Not yet, though. Not quite yet.”

“Fuck . . .”

Nick laughed softly, making sure it sounded as sadistic and maniacal as possible. Spencer made more frustrated sounds, and squirmed, and rattled the cuffs against the bedframe.

“Listen to me, Spencer,” Nick said, lowering his voice so Spencer would have to strain to hear him. “In a minute, I’m going to let you come. And after you’ve come, I’m going to release your hands.”

“Okay,” Spencer breathed.

“And once I’ve done that,” Nick said, stroking fast and hard now just to f*ck with Spencer’s concentration, “you’re going to get on your knees on the floor and suck me off.”

“Yes, please,” Spencer whispered, his voice shaking like he was on the verge of tears. “Please, Nick . . .”

“I’m going to count backwards. From five.” He added a subtle twist to his movements, gritting his teeth as fatigue started to burn its way into his forearm. “When I reach one, you can come. Understood?”

Spencer nodded. “Understood.”

Nick let the silence linger. He kept stroking, but didn’t say anything. Didn’t start the countdown.

Sweat beaded on Spencer’s forehead, and a few drops slid down his temples and his neck. The cords stood out from his throat, and his lips were pulled tight across his teeth. His abs shook, and his arms strained against their cuffs, and Nick was sure he was holding his breath.

Then Nick leaned a little closer to him and whispered, “Five.”

A little tension released, but that was just Spencer thinking he was on safe ground. Nick wished he’d put something up Spencer’s arse, a vibrating egg or something, to torture him more thoroughly, coordinate the stimulation of his cock and his prostate, but that would have to wait. First real attempt at orgasm denial, and Spencer was falling into it beautifully, obeying the rules, deeply susceptible to the orders and his own need. The man would rather explode than come unless ordered.

Nick kept Spencer on the edge right there, pumped, but didn’t tease the head—letting Spencer think he’d discovered a merciful bone in his body. “Four.”

Spencer swallowed and nodded, lips forming that word like an echo. “Four.”

Nick bent down over Spencer’s cock, then ran his tongue along the head. Spencer made a sound somewhere between a shout and an agonized protest. Nick bared his teeth. “What was that? Not happy?”

“Oh God, Nick. You’re . . . you’re . . .”

Nick did it again, just to drive home the point. Spencer’s leg muscle tensed. The man was this close to losing it. Excellent.

“I’m . . .?” He whispered against the wet cockhead, breath brushing over it.

“You’re . . . killing me.”