Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

C al has passed out. I check to make sure he is still breathing, then I carefully let the dildo slip from his ass and set it aside. I undo the leather binding around his wrists and massage them gently to encourage the blood flow back to where it should be.

I take all the dildos to the bathroom to clean later, then grab a cloth and run it under warm water.

I'm not that surprised when I return to the bedroom to find him still out. I have his hole cleaned in a matter of moments, then doctor it with a little cream. There's no reason for him to be sorer than he needs to be in the morning.

Once I've cleared away the various bits of leather and metal, I slip into bed with him, and Cal curls up against me immediately, forehead against my arm, his hand on my belly. The move makes me smile, and I pat his shoulder in approval. He might fight me tooth and nail when he's awake, but he knows he's safe with me. He knows he wants to be right here with me, as close as he can be.

While he's sleeping, I grab my cock, wrapping my hand around it and tugging. If he'd still been awake, I would have come against his hole, covered it in my spunk, but I'll have to save that for another day. It's not nearly as much fun if he's not aware of it.

As I work my erection, I think about how Cal looked, bent on my bed, his ass up, his cock sheathed and his nipples clamped. How he rode the dildos, his body begging for more. All those muscles pushing and begging for me, for what I was giving him. He was stunning.

I pull harder on my cock, remembering the noises he made. The whimpers and groans, the screams. So sexy. I nearly came myself when he did, that scream ringing in my ears. I look over at him and pinch the head of my cock as I hear that scream of pleasure in my mind one more time, and I come, my balls emptying.

I slow my hand, drawing out the pleasure, giving myself the shivers as I keep stroking my now overly sensitive prick. I finally stop and rub the come into my belly, satisfaction making me boneless and lazy.

I look at Cal again, and his eyes are open, watching me.

I smile. "I was thinking of you while I jacked off. Thinking of how you looked with your ass up and wagging, begging for a good, hard plugging."

His cheeks pink, and I think he's going to say something, going to be mouthy and bratty, but he just blinks slowly and stays quiet, and we share the moment of satiation together. Neither of us needs, or wants, to move, and words aren't needed.

I doze for a while. I think we both do, and I'm only half awake when I feel Cal trying to slip out of bed. Grunting, I roll over enough to put my hand across his waist.

"Where are you going?"

"I've got to take a piss, man."

I let him go, my hand sliding along his skin. "The door by the painting of flames."

I watch him go, walking a little gingerly, and it makes me half-hard, knowing that I had a hand in that. A few moments later, I watch him come back into the room. He doesn't return to the bed, though. He is, in fact, looking for his clothes.

"You need to be somewhere?"

He shrugs. "Don't want to overstay my welcome."

I snort. There's no such thing. "Stay a while longer. We never did get to dessert, and I don't know about you, but I'm feeling peckish." Peckish. Ha, I could probably eat the proverbial horse, but I'll settle for some ooey-gooey cake that will get all over both of us and need to be licked off. "It's under that last cloche. Bring it over with you."

He blinks at me for a moment, and then goes to get the dessert as ordered. There we go, he just needed something to do, a reason not to leave yet.

He whistles as he lifts the cloche and grabs the plate and one of the forks. "This looks like expensive cake."

"I don't know about that. Is it creamy?"

"Yeah, I'll say it is."

"That's all I need." Despite the fact that it's clearly not the Basque cheesecake I'd ordered, it'll do.

He laughs at that, so he's smiling as he brings the cake over, probably more relaxed than he's been since he got here, aside from the time he was passed out that is.

I push myself up and sit with my back against the pillows and he climbs onto the bed to sit cross-legged next to me. He does it a little gingerly but doesn't comment on the state of his ass and refuses to change position. That stubbornness is delicious.

"You going to feed me this time?" After all, I fed him the scallops, so it's only fair.

Cal shrugs. "Sure." He dips the fork into the cake and offers me a bite that contains all the layers. I lean in and take the fork into my mouth before slowly pulling off it.

My eyes close and I hum, because this cake is creamy and wonderful. "Damnation that is good." I'd meant to tease him, to paint him with the cream and lick it from his body, to make him need all over again with how I eat the cake, but now I just want another bite, and then another one after that.

He laughs again and gives me another forkful, before taking one for himself. "It is good. Not sure it's that good."

"Blasphemy," I tell him. I'm a sucker for a good sweet.

He offers another forkful by way of an answer, and I don't complain, just take it in and open my mouth for yet another bite. I try to be good and not eat the whole thing, but I'm not paying a lot of attention as he feeds me forkful after forkful, and I'm pretty sure I not only had more than half of it, but possibly even all but a few little bites of it. I'm not going to complain—he was the one with the fork so if he didn't get enough, that is entirely on him.

Once the plate is empty, I sit back and pat my belly. "Thank you."

"It was your cake," he points out.

"But I'm sure it tasted better because you fed me."

He rolls his eyes, but he looks amused. He also looks like he's trying to find where his clothing got to again.

"Do you have to go yet?" I ask, not beating around the bush.

"I should."

"But you don't have to." We could go again. I have bigger dildos after all.

I can see it's no use, though. He's starting to wonder why he let me do what I did to him. He loves the fight for dominance, that much is clear, but I imagine it's not a fight he loses often, and he's rattled. More by the fact that he enjoyed it so much than the fact that he lost the fight, I'm guessing.

"No, but I should. I have stuff to do before I have to go back to work."

I don't point out that it's not even morning yet because I know he'll just find another excuse to leave anyway, and it's not like he has to worry about being out and about in the dark. He's the guy you don't want to run into in a dark alley.

So I nod over to the side of the bed where his clothing got tossed.

"If you open the second drawer in the dresser, you'll find a pair of sweats with a drawstring."

He frowns at me. "Get your own fucking clothes."

I laugh. "It's not for me, baby boy, it's for you."

"Why would I need to wear your sweats?"

I nod at the clothes he's holding and wait for the penny to drop. He looks at his jeans. Still ripped from when I tore them off him.

"Huh. Okay. Thanks." He pulls out a pair of sweats from the second drawer and tugs them on. He's got to roll up the bottoms and pull the drawstrings quite tight, but it'll do until he gets home. He's looking slightly wigged now, though, so he needs a distraction.

"You'll get to see my bigger dildos next time when we continue working you, stretching you out so you can take my cock."

"If there's a next time." That fire is back, and I revel in it as much as I resent it. It's taking him away from me, but it's one of the main things that draws me to him.

"There will be." I don't have to say anything else. I know he's coming back or I'm not half the demon I think I am.

He shrugs casually, all bravado now that he's dressed again. "We'll see. I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

"Ah, but I can hold my breath for a very, very long time."

"Not this long," he shoots back. Then he walks out without another glance.