Shadows and Ash: Pulp Friction 2014 Finale Page 10

  ***

  Rowen woke up and knew without a doubt he’d only rested for two hours. Mick slept soundly next to him, his red ass sticking out from the covers and his hand wrapped tightly around Rowe’s midsection.

  The most perfect way to wake up, Rowen thought to himself.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t have the liberty to stay in bed with his love and just enjoy the night. Maybe any other time he would’ve foregone his duties of looking over Mountain Shadows, but tonight wouldn’t be that night.

  He slid from between the covers and quickly made his way to the bathroom. It had taken some ingenious creativity on his part, but he’d managed to keep Mick away from his hair through all three of his demanded orgasms, so Rowen only had to quickly wash up at the sink instead of taking a full-fledged shower. If he’d had to wash cum out of his hair—something that was indeed becoming the norm, like Mick warned it would—then he’d have to completely dry it also before going outside in the cold.

  Dressed, with his hair pulled back in a ponytail and his knit cap on, Rowen leaned over Mick and gently kissed his cheek.

  “Sugartree?” Mick never opened his eyes.

  “Shh, love. I’m just—”

  “Doing your rounds. Yeah, used to it…ass hurts…gotta do that again…” Mick blindly leaned up and kissed Rowen’s nostril before falling back to the bed, asleep again before his head even hit the pillow.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cannon watched Finn and Rob in the dimly lit doorway, two dark shadows, one tall and broad, the other slightly shorter, a bit more slender. Their silhouettes had all the power of darkness, all the comfort of a solid presence, blocking out all the evil, coming between the bitter, ugly truth of life and the ones they loved.

  What did Finn have to say that couldn't be said in front of all their friends? What secret would he and Rob keep?

  Once that secret would have eaten away at Cannon’s confidence, nibbled and nagged and destroyed his peace of mind. But as the clouds shadowed the bright moon once more, he could accept that Finn’s intentions were pure, that he and Rob would act in the best interest of them all, and Cannon could trust them.

  He’d learned that morning in Richard Lassiter’s room at the psych ward that he wasn’t comfortable with doing some things. Even when he understood they were necessary and valuable, he just didn’t have the stomach for it.

  Finn did. Rob did. Rowe did.

  Mick was a marshmallow. Like Cannon, he’d want to help, but he was better off out of it. They’d all seen him nearly fall apart over the discovery of Rowe’s tragic past. Charlie and Amos were wild cards, but Cannon had seen the fire in Amos’s eyes when the abuse Jilly had suffered had been revealed. That elegant man in his suits and art gallery had hidden depths.

  “We ready?”

  He started as he realized that Finn had somehow managed to enter the car without disturbing him. “Jesus! How did you do that? Why would you do that? You…”

  “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?”

  Twisting around in his seat so he faced Finn, Cannon forced his breath to even out and his heart to calm. “No. Not at all. It’s just me being jumpy. After all, there’s only a whole host of evil thugs haunting the place we call home. Why would I be scared?”

  “You’re safe with me, Cannon. I thought you knew that.”

  The sadness in his lover’s tone nearly did him in. “I do know that. Do you think I’d be living with you…let alone contemplating doing what we’re going to do tonight with you…if I didn’t?”

  His cheeks burned, and he knew he was blushing. He could only hope that Finn couldn't see the color darkening his cheeks. And why was he blushing? They’d been intimate for the better part of a year, off and on. Sex on the first date…before it even, if they were honest.

  “What are we going to do this evening?”

  Cannon choked on his words as a flood of visions swam before his eyes. “I…” That table, with its shackles, appealed to him, but so many other things did as well, so many potential avenues to pleasure, to discovery. But the truth was, he had no idea at all what Finn had planned, he’d just caught the intent and assumed it was going to involve opening that closed door in the cabin. “I don’t know.” He faced forward, squared his jaw and put the car in gear.

  “I do.” Finn leaned back in his seat and tipped his head to the side, peering up at the sky out the window.

  Cannon waited for Charlie and Amos to pull out of the lot ahead of them. It looked like they were arguing, but of course he couldn’t hear what they were saying, he just knew it felt like they blocked the parking lot exit for a long damned time while unease and sensual tension heated the atmosphere inside the SUV. “Are you going to tell me?” he finally ground out, staring straight ahead.

  “Oh, I’ve already told you.” Finn reached for the dash and turned off both seat warmers and the steering wheel warmer. “It’s warm enough in here, don’t you think?”

  “Are you going to make me beg?” He meant for more information, but Finn’s husky chuckle told him he’d chosen the wrong words. Cannon squirmed on his seat as the heat spiked between them again. His pulse leapt, and his breath huffed out as lust slammed into him, a solid, rapid blow leaving him tense and shaky.

  His grip tightened on the wheel and he peeled out into the road behind Amos and Charlie a little faster than he should have, skidding just a bit on a patch of ice before he regained control of his vehicle. “Don’t,” he whispered, shaken.

  “Calm down.” Finn reached out, covered Cannon’s knee with his broad palm, squeezing gently, reassuringly. “I’m just teasing. We’re less than a mile from home. Let’s get there in one piece, okay?”

  Cannon nodded jerkily, unable to relax as he was sure Finn intended. How could he with the heat of that touch scorching his skin through the fabric of his trousers? “Yes. No problem.” He overreacted though, like a drunk who knows he’s had one too many trying to drive himself home with exaggerated caution. The SUV slowed to a crawl and his hands grew damp inside his gloves.

  “Now you’re the one teasing.” Finn laughed softly, making light of Cannon’s silly reaction, and the lurking embarrassment and uncertainty fled.

  He pulled into their drive with confidence, shut off the engine and exited the car without speaking. Intensity burned between them, making speech unnecessary, maybe even impossible. Cannon walked swiftly up to the door, using his own key…one Finn had given him when he’d invited him to move in, to gain entry. Finn was following, but without urgency.

  Cannon could hear him back there, the sound of his feet crunching the snow, the random scattered whistles, snatches of tunes that made no sense, a musical smorgasbord that just reminded him that he wasn’t alone, that Finn was there, at his back.

  Discreetly adjusting his cock, Cannon crossed the threshold and headed straight for the shower. He left the bathroom door open in case Finn wanted to join him, but didn’t really expect that he would.

  As he waited for the water to heat, he brushed his teeth, listening, straining to hear the sounds of Finn in the outer room. He could hear him talking to the cat, imagined him rubbing the black beast’s furry head while feeding him tidbits of whitefish from the saucer before putting the food dish away for the night.

  Then he’d lock the door, check the windows, the same routine every night. Making sure the house was secure, for Cannon.

  He jumped into the shower as a door creaked from the outer room. A shiver racked his body despite the heat of the water that flowed over it. He recognized that sound, had heard it in reality only once, but in his dreams…

  When he slept, that creak preceded some of the hottest, strangest, most sensual dream sequences he’d experienced in his life.

  Sluicing the last of the soap off his body, Cannon shut off the shower and dried himself briskly. He debated pajamas. A clean pair sat on the shelving unit on the back of the toilet, ready for the night. Shaking his head, he decided they’d only get discarded anyway. Instead, he wrapped the t
owel around his waist, mocking his reflection for the foolish modesty when they’d seen each other naked dozens of times, before grinning in excitement and padding out of the room barefoot.

  His gaze went automatically to the door as he’d come to think of it since opening it all those months ago. For the first time, it was wide open, and his heart obligingly tripped over itself. Adrenaline surged, and his feet carried him over to the door without conscious thought.

  Once there, he hovered in the doorway, bracing himself with one hand while he searched the depths of the room with wide eyes. He’d seen things…been to clubs, one particularly naughty one in Atlanta that had boasted demonstrations of things he hadn’t even dreamed of. He’d even been a…guest…in a dungeon of sorts with Master Peter.

  But this…

  This was altogether a different sort of experience.

  This was a glimpse into the heart and soul of Finn Lorensson. These were the things he enjoyed so much that he’d brought them into his home, made them accessible twenty-four hours a day.

  There was the table, of course, that had featured in Cannon’s dreams, with its belts and latches and shackles. There was a wide double-doored cabinet, and a squat, squarish chest. There was a ring in one wall, and one on the floor, one in the center of the ceiling.

  Binding was clearly on the agenda, and, with difficultly, Cannon controlled the shiver the idea aroused. “Finn?”

  “Here.” A segment of shadow separated itself from the darkness in one ill-lit corner, stepping forward, and Cannon had a moment of regret over his choice not to dress.

  Finn wore sleek black pajamas in a matte fabric that looked soft and touchable. Cannon let his gaze roam over the familiar figure, recalling the tender touch of his hands, the comforting weight of his body. “What… should I do?” He raised his hands, palm up in a helpless little gesture. “I’m not familiar…”

  Finn padded on bare feet across the few feet that separated them. “It’s okay, I know.” He caught Cannon’s hands and led him from the doorway deeper into the room, coming to a stop by that intriguing table. “Climb up here.”

  Cannon swallowed hard and obeyed.

  “You don’t need this.” Finn tugged at the towel around Cannon’s waist and then draped it over the pole. “That’s good. Now, scoot back a little… Yes, like that.”

  Cannon kept his gaze focused on Finn’s face…on the pure blue of his eyes, with their dark, intent depths, on the way his nostrils, flared no matter how calm his voice was. The evidence of how much Finn wanted this was enough to settle Cannon’s anxieties. “I’m okay.” His voice surprised him. He hadn’t really planned to speak, but the faint twitch of Finn’s lips said it was okay for him to, and so he smiled in return.

  “Now, what I’m going to do now is nothing we haven’t done before. Only difference is we’re going to do this with metal instead of silk, okay?”

  “Ah.” Cannon closed his eyes to savor that memory…the comfort of being unable to move, the novel experience of giving up all control of himself. “Okay.”

  Clink. Clank. Clink.

  His eyes popped open and tracked the sound. He hadn’t heard Finn move, but he had. Finn now stood at the head of the table, almost behind Cannon, but in sight if he tipped his head at the right angle. “What…”

  “Just adjusting the length.” Finn came back around to stand in front of Cannon, pressing against his knees until Cannon spread them, then moving in between so there was barely an inch between his nakedness and Finn’s pajamas. “I’m not going to hurt you. You told me no hitting a long time ago, and I will not forget that. Is there anything else you don’t want?”

  It was a serious question, but Cannon couldn’t think of any sort of answer that made sense. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

  “You won’t be. I promise. And if there’s anything I do that you don’t like or don’t want…just say the word and I’ll stop.”

  He latched onto that. Words…yes. “Safe words. We need a safe word.”

  “If you want, that’s good. Stop works just fine for me, but if you prefer something more colorful…”

  Finn’s lips brushed along his cheek, settled on his lips and plundered…opening them with a thrust of his tongue, pushing between and filling Cannon’s mouth with motion and heat, drowning him in wet, luxurious kisses that stoked the fire between them so high he didn’t realize he was being maneuvered backward until his bare back hit the cold metal.

  “Yike!” He jumped, their heads knocked together, a burst of pain flared and vanished. Finn pressed his palms into Cannon’s shoulders, pushing him gently back down.

  “It’s all right. How’s your head?”

  Cannon shook his head. “I don’t know. Wasn’t a very big knock. I’m sorry, it was cold.”

  “I should have warmed it. I’m sorry, elskling.”

  The coolness of the metal rapidly lost importance as the warmth of Finn’s hands stroking his body distracted him. Cannon squirmed, trying to wriggle upright to get those stroking hands farther down, on his most sensitive skin. His cock had filled, stretched hard and heavy on his belly, needing Finn’s attention.

  “God…Finn, I need.” His body quivered, thighs and buttocks clenching.

  Finn’s hands slid down his shoulders, squeezing and rubbing his upper arms, then delicately tickling his inner elbows. Cannon jerked, moaning again. Had he forgotten or never known how sensitive that spot was?

  “Please,” he whispered. His legs twitched, his feet rattled discordantly against the table legs.

  “Just…be…patient,” Finn rasped in his ear, his hands now circling Cannon’s wrists, tugging his arms up over his head.

  Cannon’s breath caught, his body stilled in anticipation. His heart thumped so loudly in his ears he thought it might beat its way right out of his chest. Finn’s weight settled on him, stretched out along his length from groin to shoulder as the chains rattled again.

  Cool metal encircled his wrists.

  Clink.

  A drop of hot liquid fell from the tip of his cock, scalding his belly before cooling rapidly.

  Finn lifted off him, retreated to stand between his legs. Cannon tracked his movements, then met the molten blue gaze. Holding Finn’s gaze, he tugged at the chains with his arms, feeling the hard edges of the cuffs bite into the skin of his wrists with a pleasant pain. He licked his lips and did it again. It hurt…like a paper cut or a shaving nick… And when he relaxed, they were just there, a warming weight, reminding him that if he chose to move, he chose the sting.

  “Please.” His mouth felt dry, as though he hadn’t had water for days. He cleared his throat and started again. “Please, more.”

  Finn disappeared from his view, and Cannon let his head fall back on the table, breathing harshly. There were sounds, but he closed his eyes, hiding from the knowledge of what those sounds might mean, wanting the surprise of discovery.

  More clanking, somewhat distant, as though Finn were across the room. Then his legs were lifted onto the table with the same careful, tender touches. Finn guided his limbs, positioned him with knees bent and heels flat on the table.

  A whimper escaped. “Please.” His hole clenched, his cock…. God, it felt like it was throbbing, pulsing on his abdomen visibly. “Finn…”

  “Elskling,” Finn practically purred. “I’m giving you what you asked for. You wanted more…”

  Metal clinked again, a deeper…heavier sound that sent shivers down Cannon’s spine.

  “Oh…please.” The sound of his own voice begging…a year ago it had embarrassed him, sent him running from this man. Today…knowing how Finn was affected, how the sound of Cannon’s pleas made his lover feel?

  He took pride in that. “Please.” He wet his lips, prepared to scream the word as Finn’s hands were on him again, shifting him, widening the gap between his thighs, arranging him.

  “Scoot…” Finn’s breath was labored, and Cannon fancied that with his eyes closed, and his ears hyper-sensitively pick
ing up every sound, that some of those heartbeats ringing in his ears weren’t his own. They were Finn’s beating in rhythm with his…

  Lub.

  Lub.

  Dub.

  Dub.

  Fingers cool with slick lube brushed over his anus, Cannon gasped. Steady pressure opened him up, and he twitched again. Oh god. This was it. No further foreplay? No more… “Please, Finn. I…” His muscles ached from tension, but he didn’t know how much longer he could hang on, his balls were tightening already…

  “There’s more Cannon… So much more.”

  “Next…time. Please?” He panted out between heaving breaths, struggling to keep from coming as two fingers slid into him, pistoning, twisting, striking his prostate and retreating.

  “You don’t like it?” The taunt made it clear Finn knew exactly how much Cannon liked it.

  “Pl…uh…eaa…zzz.” The strangled word seemed enough for Finn, his fingers retreated from Cannon’s clenching hole, seized wetly on his hips, tugging him down the table until his arms were stretched tight, the metal cuffs digging in.

  “Oh…” Cannon’s hips jerked.

  Finn’s leg touched his inner thigh, and he realized for the first time that the man had stripped off the black pajamas, stood before him naked. Cannon’s eyes snapped open, visual images rushed into the empty space…the sounds and scents of lust, of his situation, faded into the background.

  Finn’s smooth, well-muscled skin gleamed pale and pretty as moonlight in the dim lighting. Cannon’s fingers itched, his abs tightened. His gaze dropped, following the gleaming gold hairs down…catching on the shadowed thick curve of Finn’s cock. “Oh…. You’re naked.”

  Finn smiled, a sultry, hungry expression. “It works better that way.”

  “What…else?”

  Finn laughed softly. “For tonight? I think this is enough…. Unless you want a blindfold? Complete darkness will only enhance the experience, though you probably already know that?”

  “This…doesn’t feel like something that needs to be done outside the bedroom…that requires a room of its own, Finn.” Putting the idea into words was a struggle. His body demanded release, but somehow…he felt like orgasming now would be cheating…skipping the intensity of the experience.