Page 49 of Takeover
Dark hair and eyes. Enigmatic smile. “God, you’re beautiful.” The words spilled from Sam’s mouth without care, without thought.
Michael slipped his suspenders off his arms and worked the buttons of his shirt open. “You’re glorious yourself. You have that well-fucked look, and I haven’t even been inside you.” Michael’s pants followed his shirt to the floor, then the rest until he stood naked at the foot of the bed, stroking his erect cock. He reached for a condom. “Can’t wait to see what you look like after we’re done.”
Michael ripped open the foil packet and another shiver twisted down Sam’s spine. His back itched and stung like mad just lying against the bedspread. Being fucked against the scratchy surface would be—intense. “You going to tell me what comes after pain. Or do I have to guess?”
Michael snorted. “If you don’t behave, you’ll never find out.” Michael pushed Sam’s legs up and wide. “Hold yourself open.”
Sam grabbed his ankles.
“Wider, Sam.”
The command forced a moan from Sam and he pulled his feet wider until his thighs ached from the stretch.
“Better.” Michael curved his mouth into a grin that held a great deal of lust—with hints of joy. Sam’s smoldering want burned in his belly when Michael reached for the lube.
“You should see yourself. So open. So needy.” Michael climbed onto the bed, his weight shifting the mattress and the cover under Sam’s back. “I love seeing you like this.”
The fabric stretched and scratched across what Sam guessed were bruises and raised flesh. The sensation electrified every inch of his skin, even the parts that hadn’t been caressed by Michael’s crop. The loud snap of Michael opening the bottle of lube tightened the need in Sam’s belly. A hollowness in Sam ached to be filled, not just by Michael’s cock, but by the taste of Michael’s skin, the smell of his sweat. His weight. His love.
Sam’s heart pounded against his ribs.Love.
“Please.”
Michael loomed, bottle in hand. “Please what?”
Sam’s whole body burned. Embarrassment fought with lust. He surrendered to the latter. “Fuck me.” It came out as a whisper.
“Hmm?” Michael stood still, obviously waiting for Sam.
“Fuck me.” Louder this time. “Use me.” Sam needed an answer. He spread his feet wider and arched his back, needing Michael’s touch. He didn’t know which hurt and pleased more, the crop or Michael not touching him. “Teach me. What am I supposed to learn?”
Cold liquid ran between Sam’s ass cheeks, swiftly followed by Michael’s finger. “Patience. Surrender. Learn to feel, Sam.” Gentle pressure teased the ring of his entrance and Michael coaxed him open, then pressed a digit inside. Fire snaked into Sam’s head and balls and he moaned as his emptiness filled. Michael thrust in hard but pulled out agonizingly slow, pressing all around, slicking Sam’s channel, occasionally lingering over Sam’s prostate, teasing the spot with tiny strokes.
Sam twisted on the bedspread. Feel was all he could do. The urge to jack off, to spend himself as Michael finger-fucked him was high, but he kept hold of his ankles and held himself wide for Michael.
Only for Michael. He’d never do this for anyone else.
“Do you trust me?” Michael’s question was as sensuous as the touch of the fingers inside Sam’s channel.
“Yes.” The answer sprang from his heart, because he did.
“Good.” When Michael withdrew, the loss of his touch ached more than the crop, but before Sam could utter a plea, Michael set the head of his cock against Sam’s hole and pushed inside. The sharp sweet burn of being stretched had Sam gasping for air. Light flashed in Sam’s vision and the longing inside Sam disappeared. Michael was there, inside him, above him, murmuring nonsense into his ear. Sam trembled, the honey taste of ache from his back, from being full with Michael, tightened his cock and balls. Every second ticked away in a tangle of hurt and joy and pleasure so close to perfection it was hard to breathe.
Sam couldn’t touch himself, not without letting go of his ankles, and he loved the tight fire in his thighs and arms, sweetening the mist of agony already surrounding him. Only Michael mattered, his rhythm flinging Sam higher, away from his thoughts.Feel.
Michael hammered into Sam and gripped Sam’s shoulders, digging fingers into flesh. His thighs slapped against Sam’s abused ass and the echo of those blows filled Sam’s ears. The room brightened with each stinging contact, until Sam was lost in the dizzying heights near release.
The bedspread grated Sam’s welts and bruises, those pinpricks of pain mixing with the spike of heaven every time Michael rocked against Sam’s prostate. Agony and bliss twisted together and whipped about in Sam’s heart and mind. He’d been on edge all night, desire swimming in his veins since Michael handed him the keycard. Sam needed the sweet release from the world only Michael gave to him.
Sam’s soul sang and his balls drew up. He twisted, trying to find relief for his cock. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”
“Of course.” Michael feasted on Sam’s mouth and pistoned into him so hard, Sam lost the grip on his ankles. His back turned into a sheet of agony. Sam returned Michael’s kiss for all that he was worth, tangling his hands into Michael’s hair and wrapping his legs around Michael’s torso.
Soaring over the edge of pain and the ecstasy of release, Sam broke the kiss. “I need—”
Michael wrapped his hand around Sam’s cock and fisted it with the same staccato tempo as his fucking.
Breath left Sam’s lungs. The cord of his desire cracked like Michael’s riding crop, sending a bolt of pleasure that seared into his balls. His vision turned white and he emptied his seed over Michael’s hand and onto his own chest. He couldn’t even voice his relief. That moment of abandonment, the clash between torment and rapture lasted forever and not long enough.
