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48. Forty-Seven

I woke slowly, like I’d been half dead. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. For a moment, I simply lay there, savoring the peaceful stillness of the morning.

As I lay there in the quiet bedroom, my mind slowly piecing itself together, I realized I had no idea how long it had been since I last fronted. Time always became a slippery, elusive thing when I went dormant, the days and nights blurring together.

I sat up, running a hand over my face and through my sleep-tousled hair. The simple action felt strange, my limbs heavy and sluggish like they belonged to someone else. It was always an odd sensation, coming back to myself after an extended absence, relearning the rhythms and routines of my own body.

Motes of dust danced in the sunbeams slanting across the room, gilding everything in a soft, buttery light. It lent an almost dreamlike quality to my surroundings, as if the world hadn't quite solidified around me yet. I breathed deeply, letting the peaceful stillness settle into my bones.

Slowly, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, the hardwood floor cool beneath my bare feet. I stretched, feeling my joints pop and my muscles flex, shaking off the lingering cobwebs of sleep.

I padded over to the dresser where we kept the well-worn leather journal, a tether that kept us all connected even when we drifted. Flipping it open, I scanned the most recent entries, trying to piece together what I had missed.

Bryce's neat, compact handwriting filled most of the pages. He wrote about taking Eli to see the Christmas lights in the park, their breath fogging in the chilly night air as they sipped hot cocoa and watched the display. He described the soft smile on Eli's face, the way the colorful lights reflected in his eyes, and how he’d enjoyed spending time with him there.

There were entries about quiet evenings spent curled up on the couch, watching cheesy Hallmark movies and laughing at the corny dialogue. Bryce's words painted a picture of cozy domesticity, of two people finding comfort and joy in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

As I turned the pages, a crayon drawing fluttered out from between the sheets. The lines were clumsy and childlike, but I could make out two stick figures holding hands, a lopsided Christmas tree beside them. A wobbly scrawl at the bottom read “Dex and Eli.”

A fond smile tugged at my lips. I was glad Dex had gotten to enjoy the holiday at least a little. Christmas was his second favorite holiday after Halloween, and only because he got free candy on Halloween.

My fingers traced over the waxy lines of crayon, feeling a swell of affection for my youngest headmate. Even with everything going on, Dex still found joy in the little things like Christmas lights and cookies and time spent with Eli.

I carefully tucked the drawing back between the journal pages and kept reading. There were only two entries from Keres in his usual spiky script. The first was early Christmas day, in which he explained what happened at the factory with Eli. Reading that account was difficult, but necessary. I was glad things had worked out between them, but worried it might lead to long-term difficulties in the relationship. If Eli could accept the worst parts of Keres, though, perhaps…

I didn’t want to let myself think it. Didn’t want to hope that perhaps this wonderful, beautiful thing we had could go on forever. It was too much, so I flipped to Keres’s second entry. That one was mostly him demanding that I have Warrick train Eli to use the knives he’d gotten him.

At the end was a single short entry from Azreal that read:

Tell Eli I’m sorry. –Az.

I sighed and closed the journal. Maybe it would be better to make Azreal do his own apologizing, but he fronted so rarely that it might be some time before he got the opportunity. I’d do my best to convey his apology to Eli.

But that was a conversation for another day. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to see Eli's face, to hold him in my arms and bask in the warmth of his presence. I quickly dressed, opting for a simple black sweater and jeans, and made my way out of the bedroom.

The house was quiet as I came down the hallway. I found Eli in the kitchen, humming softly to himself as he stirred scrambled eggs in the pan, just the way I’d taught him to do it. The sight of him, rumpled and relaxed in flannel pajama pants and one of my old t-shirts, made my heart swell with affection.

“Good morning,” I murmured, coming up behind him to wrap my arms around his waist and press a kiss to the side of his neck.

Eli startled slightly, then melted back against me. “Good morning…” He tipped his head back to look up at me. “Shepherd?”

I smiled and nodded, nuzzling into the soft skin of his neck. “Yes, it's me.”

Eli turned off the stove and twisted in my arms to face me, his blue eyes sparkling. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I breathed, dipping my head to capture his lips in a slow, sweet kiss. Eli sighed into it, his body melting against mine as he deepened the contact. The taste of him, minty toothpaste and something uniquely Eli, was intoxicating. I could have gladly lost myself in that kiss forever.

But eventually we parted, both slightly breathless. Eli rested his forehead against my chest, his fingers toying with the hem of my sweater. “How long have you been back?”

“Just woke up a little while ago,” I replied, carding my fingers through his hair. “I read the journal entries from while I was gone. It seems like you had a good Christmas with the others.”

Eli nodded, a small smile playing over his lips. “It was nice. Quiet, but nice. Bryce took me to see the lights in the park and we watched a bunch of cheesy holiday movies. And Dex...” He chuckled. “He wore me out. As usual.”

I chuckled. “He does have that effect on people. I'm glad you two got to spend some quality time together, though. He adores you.”

Eli hummed in agreement, his fingers still idly playing with the hem of my sweater. There was a beat of silence, the air between us charged with unspoken longing. Then Eli lifted his gaze to mine, his blue eyes darkening with desire. “I missed you, Sir. A lot.”

I tightened my arms around him, pulling him flush against me. “I know.”

I captured his mouth in a searing kiss. Eli whimpered and opened for me, his hands fisting in my sweater as he arched into my touch.

The kiss quickly turned frantic, days of pent-up longing pouring out between ragged breaths and bitten-off moans. My hands roamed over Eli's body, slipping under the thin fabric of his t-shirt to map the familiar planes and angles of his torso, the pebbled nubs of his nipples. He shuddered and gasped into my mouth, grinding his hardening cock against my thigh.

“Bedroom. Now,” I growled against his lips, nipping sharply at his pierced lip. Eli nodded fervently, and I wasted no time hoisting him up, his legs automatically wrapping around my waist as I carried him down the hall.

I laid Eli out on the bed like an offering and stripped his shirt away with ruthless efficiency.

I paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of Eli's naked torso, his skin flushed and heaving with each ragged breath. He was a work of art, his lean muscles and colorful tattoos painting a canvas I would never tire of exploring.

“Give me your wrists,” I commanded, my voice low and rough with desire.

Eli hesitated only slightly before crossing his wrists above his head. I leaned forward and tugged free the restraints kept hidden between the headboard and the mattress, part of a state-of-the-art under the bed restraint system.

His eyes widened. “When did you get that?”

“Christmas present to myself,” I replied with a smirk as I secured his wrists. “Not too tight?”

Eli tugged against his bonds, testing them, and let out a shaky exhale when he found he couldn't move. “I’m good.”

“Good boy. Do you remember your safe word?”

“Icarus,” he repeated.

We’d done a little light bondage in the past, but never quite on this level. After everything that’d happened, I was somewhat worried it might be a trigger for him, but Eli’s pupils were blown wide and his cheeks flushed. He had his safe word if he needed it, and so I was keen to push him a little further and see what he could handle.

I let the last of my restraint fall away and descended on him like a man possessed, my mouth and hands roaming over every inch of exposed skin I could reach. I sucked bruising kisses along the column of his throat, reveling in the needy little whimpers that spilled from his lips.

My fingers found his nipples, already pebbled and straining for attention, and I rolled them between my fingertips, tugging and twisting until Eli was writhing beneath me, his chest heaving. I laved my tongue over one sensitive bud, then closed my teeth around it in a sharp nip that had Eli arching off the bed with a strangled cry.

I smirked and continued mapping the dips and planes of Eli's torso with lips and teeth and tongue. I followed the colorful swirls of his tattoos, tracing them with reverent fingertips. Eli quivered and shook, his skin flushed and damp with sweat.

When I reached the waistband of his pajama pants, I hooked my fingers under the elastic and tugged them down in one motion. Eli's cock sprang free, hard and leaking against his belly. I took a moment to appreciate the sight of him laid bare before me, his lithe body marked with my bites and bruises, his platinum hair mussed against the pillow.

Then I descended on Eli's cock with a hunger that bordered on feral, swallowing him down to the root in one smooth motion. Eli keened, his hips bucking up into the wet heat of my mouth. I pinned his hips to the bed with bruising force, taking control of his pleasure as I worked him with lips and tongue.

I lavished attention on the heavy ring of metal through his slit because I knew he loved it. I lapped at it, flicking my tongue against the captive bead, relishing Eli's choked cry. I tugged at it gently with my teeth, careful not to be too rough, and Eli's whole body jolted as if electrified.

The restraints creaked as he twisted his wrists, desperate to touch, to grab hold of me, but I didn't relent. I wanted him so mindless with pleasure that he forgot his own name.

I released his cock from my mouth, letting it slap wetly against his belly, and crawled up his body to claim his lips with a kiss. Eli opened for me eagerly, his tongue sliding against mine.

I fumbled blindly for the lube in the nightstand, unwilling to break the kiss for even a moment. My fingers closed around the bottle and I flicked it open, messily slicking my fingers.

I circled Eli's entrance with a finger, teasing the sensitive skin. Eli whined into my mouth and pressed himself down, fucking himself on my finger. I pressed a second finger in alongside the first, scissoring them to stretch Eli open. He was so tight, his body clutching at my fingers as I worked him open. I twisted my wrist, crooking my fingers just so, and Eli's back bowed off the bed as I found just the right spot inside him.

“Fuck, Sir, please,” he babbled, his voice wrecked. “Need you. Need your cock.”

I couldn't deny him, not when he begged so sweetly. I withdrew my fingers and quickly slicked my aching cock. I notched the blunt head against Eli's stretched hole and paused. “Look at me, boy,” I demanded.

Eli's lust-dark eyes met mine and held as I pushed forward, sheathing myself inside him in one long, slow thrust, watching as his eyes rolled back and he pulled his pierced bottom lip between his teeth.

“God, I missed this,” I gritted out, fighting the urge to let go and rut into him mindlessly.

Eli just whimpered, tossing his head back against the pillow, the tendons of his neck straining. I paused for a moment, savoring the exquisite clench of his body around me. Then I began to move, setting a brutal pace.

The headboard slammed against the wall as I pounded into Eli, chasing my pleasure and his. Eli met me thrust for thrust, his lean muscles flexing as he moved. He groaned, his neglected cock bouncing against his belly, pre-cum dripping over the metal ring.

I ground into Eli mercilessly, my hips snapping forward in a punishing rhythm. The wet, filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by Eli's wrecked moans and whimpers. Sweat slicked our bodies as I fucked into him like an animal, driven by pure base instinct.

I couldn't get enough of him, of his body gripping me tight. It was heaven and hell all at once, the all-consuming need to claim him, to possess him utterly. To mark him inside and out as mine.

But it was more than that. I needed him to know that even though I had been gone for some time, nothing had changed between us. I still wanted him, needed him. Eli had become the great stabilizing force in my life. He was the glue that bound all the strange pieces of me together and made me whole in a way I’d never thought possible.

Eli writhed beneath me, his lean, tattooed body straining against the leather binding his wrists. His cock bobbed heavily between us, the thick silver ring through the head taunting me. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and squeezed, swallowing Eli's guttural moan in a kiss.

I reveled in the heavy weight of Eli's cock in my hand, the velvet-soft skin stretched taut over rigid hardness. I could feel every ridge and vein, could trace the thick cord running along the underside. But it was the gleaming silver ring through the head that held my focus, that made Eli's cock a work of art. I loved the feel of his piercing against my palm, the way it made his cock feel different, exotic. Like a delicious secret only I was privy to.

I circled the piercing with my thumb, feeling the contrast of warm, silky flesh and cool, unyielding metal. Eli shuddered beneath me, his breathing ragged as I toyed with the thick captive bead. I tugged at it gently, pulling the ring taut, and Eli's strangled moan was music to my ears.

“You like that, don't you, boy?” I purred, my voice a low rumble.

“Yes, Sir,” Eli gasped out, his hips twitching as he fucked up into my fist.

I tightened my grip, squeezing Eli's shaft as I worked the piercing with ruthless focus. I flicked the metal with my thumbnail, delighting in the full-body shudder that earned me. Eli's cock jumped in my hand, the slit weeping steadily now, pre-cum dribbling down to slick my fingers.

I gathered some and smeared it around the head and over the piercing until it gleamed. The piercing fascinated me. How something so simple could bring such intense sensation. I loved how responsive Eli was to even the lightest touch there, his whole body quivering at my mercy.

I kept my thrusts slow and deep as I focused all my attention on Eli's cock, determined to make him fall apart. Eli whined high in his throat, his hips jerking erratically as he tried to fuck up into my fist. But I kept my grip firm, controlling his pleasure.

I traced the ridge of Eli's swollen head, circling the piercing and dipping just the tip of my finger into his leaking slit. Eli convulsed, a broken moan tearing from his throat. I did it again and felt Eli's cock throb in my hand.

“That's it, just like that,” I crooned, my voice a low, soothing rumble. “Let me take you apart. Let me make you come just from this, from me playing with your pretty cock.”

Eli let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sob, his head thrashing against the pillow. “Please!”

I smiled, slowing my thrusts until I was barely moving, just grinding deep. “Please what? Use your words, boy.”

“I need to come,” Eli sobbed out, his lashes damp and spiked against flushed cheeks. “Please, Sir, may I come?”

My hand sped up on Eli's pierced cock, twisting and stroking, pulling him inexorably toward the edge. “Yes, you may come,” I breathed against his lips.

Eli's body went bowstring taut, his head thrown back in a silent gasp as he spilled over my hand. The rhythmic clench of his body around my aching cock was exquisite, and I followed him over, finishing inside him with a guttural groan.

I collapsed on top of Eli, both of us gasping for breath, our sweat-slicked skin sliding together. I fumbled one-handed for the restraints, freeing Eli's wrists. He immediately wound his arms around me, clutching me close as aftershocks rippled through him.

We lay like that for long moments, just holding each other as our heart rates gradually slowed. I felt Eli nuzzle into my skin, his lips brushing my neck. “Welcome back,” he murmured, his words slightly slurred and dreamy.

I pressed a kiss to his temple. “It's good to be back.”

And it was. Here, with Eli in my arms, the pieces of myself slotting back into place, I felt whole. Centered in a way I only ever did with him.

I rolled off Eli, settling beside him on the rumpled sheets. He immediately curled into me, his head pillowed on my chest, fingers idly tracing patterns on my sweat-damp skin. I wrapped an arm around him, savoring the solid weight of him against me, the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

We lay like that for a time, content in the simple pleasure of skin on skin contact, the gentle rise and fall of our breathing the only sound. Sunlight slanted through the curtains, painting Eli's skin in stripes of gold, his platinum hair glowing like a halo against the dark sheets.

In the peaceful afterglow, an idea began to take shape in my mind. A desire to take Eli to new heights, to push his limits and show him pleasures he'd never known. I wanted to tie him up properly, to suspend him in an intricately woven web of rope until he was completely at my mercy.

I shifted slightly, propping myself up on one elbow to gaze down at Eli's relaxed features. “I’d like to go out to The Playground this weekend for a proper rope scene,” I murmured, brushing a lock of platinum hair off his forehead.

Eli's eyes fluttered open, his gaze hazy and unfocused as he blinked up at me. “Rope scene?” he repeated, his voice rough with lingering pleasure. “Like tying me up?”

I smiled, tracing the sharp line of his jaw with a fingertip. “More than just tying you up. I want to suspend you, bind you in an intricate web of rope until you're completely at my mercy.”

Eli's breath hitched, his pupils dilating as he stared up at me. “I've never done anything like that before,” he said, but there was no fear in his voice, only excitement.

“I know,” I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “That's why I want to do it at The Playground. They have all the equipment we'd need, and people there who can spot us to make sure everything is safe.”

Eli nodded slowly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. The silver ring through his lip glinted in the sunlight. “Okay,” he breathed after a moment. “I trust you.”

Those three simple words sent a thrill through me, warming me from the inside out. Eli's trust was a precious gift, one I knew he didn't bestow lightly. “Thank you,” I said softly, infusing the words with all the gravity I felt.

Eli smiled. “Next time we go, then. It’s a date.”

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