Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Brand had to close his eyes lest he do something he would regret, his cock surging painfully against his slacks. He couldn’t wait. Not this time, not now, not when Ash was twisting and whimpering and sliding his inner thighs against Brand’s hips. Brand spared only half a moment to find the bottle of lube inside his coat, to free himself from his slacks, to coat himself in a glistening layer of slickness that made his skin feel too tight, too hot.
Then he hooked his free hand under his young Master’s knee, lifting him up, spreading him, baring him. With sweet eagerness, Ash spread his thighs further, biting that beautifully lush lower lip. When Brand rolled his hips forward to press against that deliciously tight flesh, Ash’s lashes fluttered downward, his head tossing back on a gasp. A gasp that trailed into a cry, as Brand gave his strength into sinking into him; a cry echoed by a growl, a shudder, a panting exhalation Brand couldn’t hold back as he poured himself into his young Master’s body.
He was so tight—and so soft inside, and Brand realized that softness, that plushness wrapping around him and swallowing him deep like a sucking mouth was the swollen soreness of his young Master’s abused body, still tender inside from being taken before. Tension ripped through him, wild raw need demanding he take—but if he would control his young Master, he would control himself, and he drew in shallow, measured breaths as he made himself move slow. If only to torment himself; if only to torment his young Master, when each inch of heat and gripping tightness that joined them made Ash cry out in those soft, distressed sounds that were everything wrong and everything right about this.
He crushed down harder on Ash’s wrists, just to feel those delicate bones beneath his palm; he dug his fingers into the yielding flesh of his thigh for the pleasure of that lean sinew giving under his touch. The entire time he could never take his gaze from the tortured bliss on that pretty face, the way Ash gave himself so wholeheartedly, pain and fear knitting his brow and yet pleasure and desire flushing his cheeks and parting his lips until he was the perfect juxtaposition of the willing victim, the captured innocent.
Marked by that brand on his throat, as possessed as Brand could make him.
As Brand sank in fully, as he buried himself in that body that was far too small to take him, Ash let out a low, pleading whine and tugged at his wrists; his eyes opened to glazed, wet-sheened slits, looking up at Brand in soft entreaty. Brand could deny him nothing. He released Ash’s wrists. Soft fingers curled against his back, slipped into his hair. Ash drew him up to kiss him, as Brand enveloped him in his arms.
And together they moved, locked in a tangle of sparks made flesh and sweat-slicked skin and mating, melding mouths meeting in caressing tongues and bruise-tasting lips and the wet hot fire of joining bodies.
Brand couldn’t stop touching him, the damp silk of Ash’s skin under his palms, the way sleek sinew writhed and flexed each time Brand drew himself free only to sink deep again and again, chasing friction, chasing wildness, chasing the intimacy of seeking so far inside his young Master they might never be separated again. Ash was beautiful…and Brand worshipped him with his mouth, with his hands, with every inch of his body.
And when he lingered, toying his fingers over Ash’s cock…he felt like a man at prayer, as he devoured the way Ash sank into pleasure. The way his entire body moved with their rhythm, completely lost. The way his lips parted, sighing Brand’s name.
The way he went tight, so tight, as he gave in, fell apart, collapsed as Brand teased him to pieces.
The tight convulsions of his body were too much. That softness gripping around Brand, massaging and stroking his cock. His back arched. Fire bolted down his spine, and his blood became dark embers, his breaths cinders and ash.
And his young Master’s name was on his lips, whispered again and again and again, as he gave in service once more…and spilled his every desire into his young Master’s flesh.
THEY RESTED TOGETHER IN DROWSY silence, after Brand had tended to the marks of use and abuse on Ashton’s body, after he’d soothed the pain he’d left his young lover in. Something hovered in the air between them, something that made a third presence in the room, soft-spoken and whispering in things unsaid, things that need never be spoken.
And Brand was content.
He had just started to drift off, Ash tucked against his body with one hand across his chest, their bodies cooling together, when Ash let out a sigh.
“Thank you,” he murmured.