Page 8 of Fire & Ice

“Stand up, step over to beside the bed. Spread your feet apart on the floor, chest and arms down on the mattress. You may make yourself comfortable from there, however you like. Don’t worry about whether you’re positioning yourself ‘correctly’.” Here, Lee pauses to do air quotes, and the brief glimpse of the nerdy little dude Tripp is much more familiar with nearly whips him out of the moment and makes him snort. He catches himself just in time, managing to keep his amused smile to himself as he moves over toward the bed.

“Yes, Sir.”

“If need be, I will move you myself,” Leander finishes, and the commanding, assured tone of his voice wipes the smirk right off of Tripp’s face.

Bending over the mattress—which has a raised frame lifting it high enough to make Leander’s request slightly less awkward to carry out—turns out to be more intimidating than kneeling naked on the floor. The bed’s fluffy comforter is folded down, revealing sturdy cotton sheets that slide cool and soft against Tripp’s skin as he sinks forward. The feel of the mattress taking his weight suggests that he was right about this thing being a dream to sleep on—Tripp can’t help but wonder if he’ll get to find out.

It occurs to him that Lee probably keeps this second bed for exactly that reason. Having his submissives play and sleep here automatically creates needed distance between scening and the rest of his life, including his own private space. No risk of romance, no lines accidentally blurred or crossed. Tripp understands (and even subscribes), but the awesome mattress suddenly seems a lot less enticing.

As he spreads his legs and attempts to shift his weight more comfortably from foot to foot, Tripp is all too aware that he’sbeyondfully exposed. There’s a large fan circulating the air above their heads, and the slight moving current feels like someone breathing on his hole—not at all unpleasant, but averyclear reminder that there’s no hiding, not like this.

Hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets around him, Tripp tries to wait patiently, and thankfully, Leander doesn’t keep him doing so for long. The sounds of Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” fill the room—one of his favorites—and Leander appears by his side. “I thought this might make you more comfortable,” he explains.

Tripp smiles, despite himself.

“Thank you, Sir,” he says, making sure to lift his mouth away from the bedclothes so that Lee can hear him. He gets a firm squeeze to his bicep in acknowledgement and a teasing glimpse of a now-shirtless Leander, which is arguably the real prize. The defined muscles of Lee’s arms and torso are begging for Tripp’s touch, something he’s not sure he’ll even get to have.

Can’t win ‘em all, he tells himself.

When Leander steps up behind him, he hums softly before cupping one of Tripp’s ass cheeks, pausing before pushing his palm up and over the expanse of his back. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Tripp breathes a sigh of relief—over what, he isn’t entirely sure. It feels good to have Leander’s reassurance and praise, though, and Tripp gives himself permission to relax into it. He savors Lee's hands on his hips, on the insides of his thighs. Lee’s foot nudges Tripp’s where it’s planted on the ground, carefully working his body into a better position for his purposes. It’s not exactly sexual, but Tripp’s body responds like it is, taking his cock the rest of the way frominterestedto rock-hard in-between his legs.

Satisfied with the way he’s displayed, both of Leander’s hands return to Tripp’s ass, kneading his cheeks enthusiastically. “I think we’ll do ten today,” Leander muses out loud. “Five on each cheek,afterwe get the blood flowing. Three warm-up hits on each side first, how does that sound?”

“Good, Sir,” Tripp replies breathlessly, struggling against the urge to shift and wiggle, wanting more than anything to shove back against Leander’s groin and find out if his friend is as affected by all of this as he is.What if he isn’t?Pushing his face into the sheets, Tripp decides that actually, he doesn’t want to know—not yet, anyway. Lee sounds like he’s enjoying himself, and that’s enough for now.

“Color, Tripp,” Lee demands.

Tripp nods, sucking in a breath and tipping his chin away from the sheets so that his reply is clear. “Green, Sir,” he replies quickly.

“I am green as well,” Leander replies good-naturedly. “Extremely so.” He bends forward to nose at the space between Tripp’s shoulder blades, left hand gripping his hip possessively, and once again, Tripp has to fight hard to stay still, to not shove himself over. He wants to, wants to flip straight onto his back, to grab Lee and yank him down to kiss, to wrap his legs around strong thighs. Wants to do all of those things and a million other stupid, impulsive moves that would undoubtedly ruin thisveryawesome thing they have going.

It doesn’t help at all when Lee's groin presses flush against the crack of his ass and he discovers that,fuck yes,Leeishard.Yes.

Tripp groans a little, he can’t help it, and Leander chuckles. “Warm up hits should sting but not hurt. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Tripp breathes, forgetting the formality, but Leander lets his faux-pas go unchecked as he straightens up and lands three light swats, delivered uninterrupted to Tripp’s left cheek. As promised, they leave him stinging and a little breathless but definitely not in pain, and surprisingly, desperately craving more.

“Color?” Leander checks in, and Tripp nods into the sheets.

“Green,” he affirms. “So freaking green.”

Three swats to the right cheek, and Tripp has to actively stop himself from rocking back on his heels. He’s biting his lip to hold back the demand threatening to roll off his tongue formore, more, more.Leander notices, probably sees him trying to chew off his bottom lip, and immediately shoves his own thumb into the warmth of Tripp’s mouth without warning, prying it open.

“Say it,” Lee orders, his still-clothed groin pressed flush against Tripp’s thigh, teasing them both. “Whatever you’re holding back,sayit.”

Opening his eyes and from the angle he’s laying, Tripp can justbarelysee Lee's face peering down at him, his expression a confusing mix of arousal and concern. The inside of Tripp’s head is starting to turn a little hazy, but it’s in a good way, and the last thing in the world he wants Lee to do isstop.

“More,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Please, Lee, more.” To punctuate those words, Tripp rocks on his heels just alittle,barely enough to give the man behind him some friction.

“Oh,” Leander says softly, apparently surprised thatthisis what Tripp was thinking. He straightens up and returns to kneading his cheeks. “With pleasure. Count out loud this time, please.”

The first real strike is more of a shock than it is pain, and Tripp relishes it. The feel of Leander’s hand smacking his skin, the slight burn that settles in after he pulls away—it’s far better than Tripp could’ve imagined.

“One,” he says as he shifts against the sheets, sinking down both mentally and physically. Leander spanks him five times total on each cheek, just as he promised, alternating sides with each hit and sporadically kneading his cheeks in between. The variety and unpredictability of the sensations synergize to stack the pain versus pleasure in a way that keeps Tripp on his toes.

By the time they reach “Nine!”and “Ten,”Tripp is deliriously lost, barely able to vocalize the count and with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. A rogue one spills over and tracks down his face, leaving a wet, cooling path against his fevered skin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tripp knows that he’s not being as still as he should be, rocking into Leander’s touch and often pleading for more without having been asked to speak.

---