10

-MALCOLM-

I CLUTCHthe steering wheel tightly as I drive back to my house. It's taken me way too long to cool off, but the sight of Paul laying his hands on North made me see red. It took everything in me not to keep on smashing my fist into his face, and I would have done it too. But North shouted my name, and suddenly I could control myself again.

It was weird. I heard him through the buzzing in my head, and then the red rage lifted before my eyes. It was like he'd thrown a bucket of cold water over me.

When I get back, the lights are on, casting a warm glow across the front lawn. My arousal has barely dipped, thinking of him ready and waiting for me. I'm excited to go in and see him. I sit in the car for a moment and watch the house. I'm so used to having him here that it's only now I realize how comfortable it feels. It's crept up on me, but now that I know it's there I don't know how to feel about it.

All I know is I could get used to this feeling far too easily, and that freaks the hell out of me. But I'll worry about it post-orgasm.

North's left the door unlocked for me, and I go in, carrying a box from the car in my arms. I need to get him a spare key so he doesn't have to keep borrowing mine.

God, I sound like an old married woman.

He's waiting for me just where he should be in the hallway, on his knees, naked, with the band of leather around his neck. He looks up at me and smiles as his face turns that shade of pink that does unspeakable things to me and makes me want to do unspeakable things to him.

His cock is standing to attention between his legs, just waiting for me to do as I please, and I have to swallow as my mouth waters. He's so perfect.

How the hell did I manage to get him? I've been such an idiot, letting my own pathetic problems and hang-ups get in the way. Well, not anymore.

The box gets discarded to one side and forgotten. I was going to give it to him first, but that shit can wait, my to do list just got rearranged, with North taking top priority.

I hook my finger into the metal loop on the leather collar and pull him to his feet. He grunts lowly at the pull on his neck, helplessly aroused.

"That's right," I murmur. "You love it don't you?"

"Yes," he says in a heated whisper.

God, I could just fuck him right here, it takes everything in me to keep control. Instead, I lead him upstairs to the spare bedroom. No, I correct myself, his bedroom. We've never had a session in here before, keeping it to the practice room downstairs, and he looks around, clearly confused.

"On the bed," I say.

He eyes me with a half-concealed smile and climbs on, his long legs folded beneath him.

I get him to lie down and raise his hands over his head, gripping the slats of the headboard, and tie them to the wood with leather cuffs. As I secure his far hand, I climb on top of him, my thighs straddling his bare chest, and he makes a quiet sound, hot and needy.

Once he's secure, I sit back over his hips, taking in the view of him beneath me. My marks litter his perfect skin, somehow making him look even more perfect at having been spoiled. The only thing better than perfection is being the one to ruin it.

He's flawless; his blond hair messy on the pillow, blue eyes blown wide with arousal, lips wet and parted, skin flushed. Eager and attentive, waiting for my next move.

I run my hand up his chest, over his throat, and along his jaw, just allowing myself to enjoy the feeling of him under my hand and the way his body moves in reaction. Then I flick my thumb over his nipple, and he ripples beneath me as he gasps.

"Even with all these marks I've left on you, it still doesn't feel like enough."

I lean forward, arm bolstered on the headboard, and slip my thighs up his body until my crotch is an inch from his face. I take his hair and grind his face into it. He makes a startled muffled noise that turns into needy grunts, and when I pull his head back again he's panting and red.

"Is this what I have to do to keep people away from you? Mark you with my scent too? Is this want you want? Want me rubbing my sweaty crotch on your face? You want to be suffocated by my sack?"

He whimpers and nods. I shove his face in again, longer this time, grinding hard, the friction against my cock shooting pleasure up my spine, until he's writhing beneath me. I let go and let his head fall back onto the pillow. He looks totally fucked already, his eyes glazed over with lust.

I get my cock out and run it across his lips, smearing precum across them. He opens this mouth, hungry for me, but I draw back and he moans.

"You want my cock in your mouth?" I say.

"Yes," he says.

"Beg for it."

He groans and I feel his body move as his hips thrust up into the air uselessly. So needy and pliant.

"Please, please let me suck your dick." His voice is rough and low with want. "Please, Mal."

His words shoot straight to my cock, short circuiting every nerve on the way down, and my whole core clenches. Fuck. I feel like my brain's been slam dunked with dopamine.

"Fuck, I love hearing you say that." Did I say that out loud? I was aroused before, but now I'm suddenly so horny I'm dizzy, like I'm drunk or something.

He lifts his head and sticks his tongue out, reaching for me, laughing breathlessly. How can I withhold when he's being so eager? I ease forward and press the tip of my head to his tongue. He grunts and tries to take it into his mouth, and I let it go, slowly, teasingly, until his lips close around me. The wet warmth of his mouth makes me close my eyes for a moment. I hold still for a beat, keeping myself in place to see how long I can last, teasing both of us, before I can't go any longer and my self-restraint gives way. I push in further, building up a rhythm that grows until all too soon, I'm fucking his face, one hand tangled in his hair and holding him in place as I thrust into him.

God, it feels so good. "More?"

He whines around my cock, soft needy noises that send vibrations shooting up me. I grip hard on the headboard and roll my hips until I'm hitting the back of his throat. His eyes water and leak down his cheeks as he gags around me, the muscles of this throat convulsing around my head in blissful waves.

I watch my cock pumping in and out of his stretched lips, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"God, you love it when I fuck your throat until you cry, don't you?"

He moans, spit slipping out between his lips. I can feel his hips bucking beneath me as he tries to get some friction on his leaking dick.

"Fuck, Nolan, you look so good choking on my cock."

The pleasure pools in my belly. I'm so close already. The thought of coming inside his throat, of him swallowing my load down, is so tempting, but I want to mark him where I can see it. I screw my eyes shut, and pull out at the last moment with a wet pop. He gulps in a wet ragged breath as I take my slick cock in my hand, my fingers still tangled in his hair and holding him in place. I work my cock furiously over him.

"Beg me to come in your face," I hiss.

His mouth falls open, his chest heaving to catch his breath. "Please," he gasps. "Please, Mal, I want it. I want to taste it. I want to be dripping with your cum."

And fuck he looks like he actually wants it, like he needs it, pretty boy North Nolan needs me to blow my load over his face.

"Fuck!"

His words tip me over the edge and before my brain can catch up I'm coming hard. My body goes rigid. I fall forward, catching myself on the headboard, and I'm shooting white ropes of cum across his face. He opens his mouth like he's trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue, savoring the taste of my seed. I can't take my eyes off the sight of him as pleasure ripples through me, wave after wave.

"Thank you," he breathes, and Jesus fucking Christ, I almost pass out as yet more cum shoots out of me and hits him across the cheeks. This guy is going to be the end of me.

I pump my cock in my fist until I've spilled my full load across his beautiful face, then I flop over to the side. He's dripping, cum sliding across his cheeks and jaw and over the bridge of his nose. I want to lick him clean.

I stare at him. What the fuck? He can dirty talk like a champ. Why have I been making him keep quiet during sex when I could have been listening to that? The way he begged, voice wrecked and needy, face helpless and pleading. And he thanked me. Shit. I could come just listening to it.

"So was that a punishment, or a reward?" he croaks.

I blow a breath and roll over so I'm lying next to him. My limbs are jelly.

"I don't know," I say. "You decide."

He laughs. It's raspy from the savage throat fuck, and so fucking good. I don't have a favorite noise but if I did, this might be it.

God, can you hear yourself? I clear my throat uncomfortably. This is getting a bit too sentimental. But I'll blame it on the post-orgasm glow.

I look down to where his cock is still standing rigid between his legs. I still have work to do.

"But maybe save your judgment. I haven't finished yet."

I tuck my dick away and roll off the bed, coming back with two more leather straps. His eyes fix on them, and I smirk.

"You really thought you'd get off that easy? I've only just started."