Chapter 66
As he pulls back slightly, breaking their kiss, he whispers against Tim’s cheek, “You were being a little insolent earlier, weren’t you?”
Lowering his forehead to Bryce’s, Tim murmurs, “Yes, sir.”
With a smile, Bryce slides Tim’s belt free from his pants, which sag farther down his hips. “I’m going to have to do something about that.”
Tim’s whole body quivers against Bryce’s. Even though he shouldn’t, Bryce knowshe knows he shouldn’t, Tim sighs, “Please.”
One good yank sends Tim’s slacks puddling to the floor at his feet. He wears a jockstrap underneath because he likes the feel of the rough fabric against his ass during the day, or so he’s told Bryce. The front of the jock bulges against his erection, and Bryce squeezes it until Tim gasps in delight. “Yes,” he hisses, arms locked, teeth clenched, every muscle strained. His hips thrust forward, shoving his cock into Bryce’s palm. “Please.”
Bryce’s grip tightens almost painfully. “Don’t push me. Any word other than yes and this ends. That’s your rule, isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Tim cries out. He wants to say more, Bryce can tell, but he bites back whatever else might be on the tip of his tongue and stays silent.
Good
Bryce relaxes his fingers and massages Tim’s dick through the front of the jockstrap. Already the fabric is damp with precome. Tracing the hemline of the jock around Tim’s genitals, Bryce tickles up under the cup, behind Tim’s balls, and finds the sweet spot that always makes Tim’s breath catch in the back of his throat. “Ye-ye-ye-ye-yes,” he sighs, burying his face against Bryce’s neck. “Oh yes, oh please, oh God, oh please, oh yes, please, please, yes.”
Bryce ignores Tim’s inability to remember the rules for the moment and eases his finger farther, working it between his lover’s legs, angling for the puckered hole at the center of Tim’s being. He feels muscles spasming as he nears, trying to draw him in, and Tim’s words dissolve into hitched breaths hot against Bryce’s shoulder. “Yeah, gah, pluh, yeah, uh, uh, uh.”
It’s a heady thought for Bryce, to know he can bring the head of a large company to such a primal state. His palm and wrist are damp with precome that has sopped through Tim’s jockstrap, and his jacket is slick with Tim’s sweat and spit. When he turns towards his lover, Tim’s lips latch onto his with a determined possessiveness almost animalistic and raw with desire.
You,Tim says, not with words but in the way his tongue fills Bryce’s mouth, the way his lips clamp onto Bryce’s. I want you, only you, and no other.
Heady, indeed.
Still, Bryce needs to take charge. That’s his role in this; that’s why Tim hired him initially, no matter how their relationship may have deepened or matured over the five years they’ve been together. So when his finger finds Tim’s tightened anus, he rims the furrow and dips inside, just a tease of a touch, before pulling back. He gives Tim’s dick a tweak in passing, snaps the side of the jockstrap in jest, and gently places his hand flat on his lover’s lower belly. He slides his palm up under Tim’s shirt, changes his mind and unbuttons it halfway up instead and rubs Tim’s flat stomach on his way to one ruddy nipple, which he pinches erect. Then he ends their kiss, keeping that hand firm on Tim’s chest to keep Tim from persisting for more.
Softly, he says, “Bend over.”
Tim gasps. His mouth opens and closes, working like a fish out of water, as if he wants to say something he knows he shouldn’t. In the end, he settles for, “Yes, sir,” and bends forward from the waist.
That isn’t quite what Bryce had in mind, and he thinks Tim knows it.
“Why are you being so difficult today?” he asks. Tim’s belt is still in one hand; now he loops it into his fist and slaps it against his open palm, enjoying the sting on his flesh, the resounding smackit makes. “Turn.”
Tim stands and turns, his back to Bryce, who closes his eyes in frustration. “Are you being deliberately obtuse?” he asks. “I didn’t say stand up.”
Before Tim can respond in any way, Bryce lashes out with the belt. The leather strap catches Tim across his bare buttocks, raising an instant red welt across both cheeks. In surprise Tim yelps and jumps. Bryce can’t deny the sudden redness on his lover’s creamy skin turns him on—his own cock, which had been semi-hard ever since he closed the door to Tim’s office, jolts to life in his trousers as if goosed.
“Now, I’ll tell you again,” Bryce says. “Bend over.”
This time when Tim leans forward, his upper body is angled over the leather sofa, his ass jutting out towards Bryce. His tied hands rest awkwardly on his lower back. For a long moment, Bryce savors the sight of his lover’s inviting ass, cheeks spread, bud puckered like a kiss in between them. He rubs the front of his slacks, feeling his zipper press against his erection, then unzips and pulls out his dick to stroke it as he studies Tim’s ass. “What a sight.”
Face first in the sofa cushions, Tim’s voice is muffled. “Yes, sir.”
Is that a smart reply? Bryce thinks maybe so…just to be certain, he slaps Tim’s buttocks with the belt again. He likes the crack of leather on skin, the yelp that escapes Tim’s throat, the way that pink bloom in the middle of Tim’s cheeks flared dark for a second when it clenched. He likes the redness, the sore flesh, the tiny burst capillaries like freckles rising to the surface of Tim’s fair skin.