If It Fornicates (Market Garden, #4)(32)

Nick nodded at the bed. “Lie down.”

“Back or front?”

“One day I’ll tie you down hands and feet and neck, on your belly, and f*ck you with a dildo until you cry, and then I’ll f*ck you . . . but not today.”

Spencer’s expression made Nick smile. It would definitely be fun to test Spencer’s endurance and make him scream, but he did feel quite a bit more mellow than that at the moment. He was just giving Spencer’s mind something to play with.

Spencer lay down, and Nick got his toy bag out of the wardrobe. He dug up some sturdy leather cuffs and put them on Spencer. Then he pulled a length of chain out of the bag—he did like the clink and strength of it, never mind the visuals—and threaded it through the cuffs’ steel ring, then fastened them securely to the bed with carabiners.

Spencer was watching him, and he remembered Spencer’s suggestion of being tied down completely. Easy enough. Next item on the list was a spreader bar, which he extended and fastened to Spencer’s legs. The man was shivering with anticipation, and groaned softly when Nick then fastened the bar to the frame of the bed. Almost no play, not on his hard mattress.

“Look at you,” Nick teased. “All hot and bothered.”

“If it pleases you.”

“It does.” Nick grabbed condoms and lube and straddled Spencer’s waist. “How much do you trust me, Spencer?” He bent down and stared into his eyes. “Remember your safeword?”

“Bonaparte.”

“That’s my boy.” Nick opened a condom wrapper, reached behind himself and rolled the condom down Spencer’s length. His stomach fluttered. He’d never taken a guy Spencer’s size, and maybe he should use a blindfold to keep Spencer literally in the dark about any nervousness, but he figured that was really the coward’s way out. In. Whatever.

“I should rent that thick cock out to some of my friends. You’d be popular.”

Spencer jerked in the chains. “Would you—really?” He seemed shocked at the thought, and Nick almost pitied him. Maybe one fantasy too far, and he really wasn’t ready to share Spencer in any case.

“We can talk about it,” Nick said mildly.

Spencer’s gaze fixed on his face. He calmed visibly and nodded.

Nick poured some lube into his hand, then ran it along the condom, aware he was mostly doing himself a favour by being thorough.

“You might not be able to talk,” Nick said. “Grab the chain.”

Spencer took it.

“Release the chain if you’re in serious trouble. I’m keeping an eye on it.”

“Okay.”

Nick applied plenty of lube to his own arsehole, then reached for Spencer’s dick. Guiding him was challenging from this angle. It might’ve been easier if Nick had left Spencer’s hands free, but the man looked so damn good like that, all bound and turned on and completely at Nick’s mercy, the extra effort was well worth it.

He pressed against the head of Spencer’s cock, but went slowly. He hadn’t done this in a while, after all. Probably could’ve had Spencer finger him first, but now that he’d gotten it in his head he was going to do this, he didn’t want more steps than were necessary. No sense letting Spencer see him lose his nerve.

Spencer stared up at him, lips parted as he watched Nick’s face. Nick had to blink a few times to keep his vision clear as he gradually relaxed, gradually yielded to Spencer. This was always the moment when he couldn’t help wondering why he so rarely let other men f*ck him; it was intense to the point of breathtaking, dizzying. Except most men tried to top from the bottom when they were like this. Tried to take control. Force themselves beyond where Nick was ready to take them.

Spencer didn’t move. He had some range of motion if he wanted it—he could thrust upwards if he was so inclined—but he was completely still. Even his chest barely rose and fell as he took slow, shallow breaths.

Nick eased himself lower, and let himself groan as Spencer slid deeper inside him. That cock stretched him like no other, and the slow, careful pace kept the dull burn pleasurable instead of painful.

“Oh God,” Spencer whispered. “Oh . . . Nick . . .”

Nick bit his lip. He lifted a little, then came down lower. As he took every inch of Spencer, then slowly lifted off and came back down again, restless muscles trembled in his legs, itching to ride Spencer harder. He could take him. He could take his entire cock without discomfort. He could no doubt handle deep, hard thrusts, but he liked this. He loved this. Long, smooth strokes, feeling every inch and watching Spencer twitch and shiver beneath him.

Beyond those little involuntary responses, Spencer didn’t move. Didn’t try to push himself deeper, didn’t try to alter Nick’s rhythm. He just lay there, perfectly surrendered, and let Nick ride him.

“You feel incredible,” Nick breathed.

Spencer swept his tongue across his lips. “So . . . so do you.”

Nick put his hands on Spencer’s abs and slid them upwards as he continued slowly riding him. Spencer sucked in a breath and squirmed as Nick’s hands approached his nipples, no doubt anticipating the twist and the sting, but Nick let his fingers and palms drift lightly across the hard nubs. He continued upwards, and leaned down as his hands slid along Spencer’s arms, over his elbows, up his forearms.