Next Page Previous Page First Page Page:  Library Library Help


By Gemini
Page 2 of 8

      "You want me." Avon's voice was cool, almost condescending, heating Blake's desire even further. Part of his mind screamed at him to find out what had happened to Avon: how he had come to be on Domo; who had been his owner? The rest of him, most of him, was demanding that he act on more primitive desires.

      Blake focused again on Avon's face before letting his eyes travel down his frame, leaner than he remembered, the chest under the coarse fabric still lightly furred. The half hidden outline of the cock below, made Blake ache to touch, to demand, and to provide. Slowly, he moved closer, to within touching distance. Avon made no attempt to get up, to move away. He seemed focused on Blake.

      "I suppose, since you paid for me, you expect cooperation." Avon's eyes were downcast but his voice held a challenge, one that Blake had heard before.

      "It would be easier for you." Blake was paying close attention to Avon's hands: they always gave away the state of his mind. He missed the quick flash of a grin that brightened the other man's face.

      "No, it would be easier for you. Terrin warned you, you know." Almost conversational, the tone relaxed Blake, reminding him of the Liberator days.

      "Exciting but dangerous," Blake mused. "Risky qualities in a slave, you could get yourself in trouble."

      "I wouldn't be the only one." That struck a chord. There was distinct menace in Avon's voice now and again Blake felt the pulse of arousal throb through his veins, his cock. If Avon wanted a fight, he'd get it; no matter what the reason.

      With a quick lunge, Blake was atop the other man, pinning Avon roughly to the floor.

      "So now it starts. I'm surprised you waited this long." Avon taunted, struggling beneath Blake's larger, bulky frame.

      "Used to it, are you?" Blake trapped Avon's wrists in his hands, forcing them up above Avon's head. "You like it, don't you?" Transferring Avon's wrists to one hand, he used the other to force Avon's gaze to meet his. He saw a mixture of fear and anger, passion and arousal. He could feel that too, Avon's cock trapped beneath his belly, pressing into it. He let Avon take more of his weight, pleased by the increased tension in the fine-boned body beneath him.

      "Bastard! Whoever the hell you are, you'll pay for this." Avon's voice dripped venom, furious in his captive arousal and Blake felt a shiver of reluctance. If Avon really didn't know... and didn't want him. Blake had never found rape a turn-on: it was disgusting, a violation, Federation tactics. But Avon was aroused. Could his body remember what his mind seemed to have forgotten? The erotic pleasures they had shared in Blake's cabin - might reliving them now bring Avon's memory back, make him realize that he was safe?

      Very gently, Blake traced the outline of Avon's profile from forehead to chin. "I'm not going to hurt you, so relax." A mutinous glare was his reward for that statement, and he frowned in response. "At least, not much." At that, Avon's eyes widened and Blake felt the old thrill again. Not violence but the thrill of its possibility, the catch. It had always worked both ways. Avon's air of danger, his own physical mastery, firing their relationship.

      Smiling at the thought of the pleasure to come, Blake tightened his grip on Avon's wrists as he lowered his mouth, touching for the first time in almost two years the delicate softness of Avon's lips. Tracing them with his tongue, he was surprised when they parted, allowing him access. He pulled back, watching. Avon had never been that compliant.

      Eyes closed, Avon spoke. "Why did you stop?"

      "Perhaps I like a little more enthusiasm?" Blake's smile was faintly mocking, intended to goad the other man. A faint smile creased Avon's lips.

      "Perhaps I'll try harder next time." His voice was sultry, seductive, and Blake's mistrust faded under the drive of his lust.

      Eyeing him sceptically, Blake bent again, lips brushing Avon's open ones, tongue flicking inside. It was good, so good, to feel Avon pliant beneath him. Suddenly a sharp pain stabbed through his lower lip and he jerked away. Avon had bitten him!

      "You little prick!" Blake tasted salt on his lips; when he raised fingers to his mouth, they came away with a slight trace of blood. Avon simply smiled, eyes cold as ice, and Blake felt his passion mix with anger.

      "No more kisses for you. I think a good fucking should do you about right." The anger was obvious in his voice and Blake didn't care. Avon had always liked his sex a little on the rough side. Well, now he'd get it. And like it, Blake reminded himself. Unless Avon had changed totally, he was going to enjoy this too.

      Grabbing the manacles Avon had worn before, with his free hand, Blake fastened them back on again with difficulty, hooking them around one of the support columns. Avon snarled his anger at being restrained again, twisting his legs and trying to kick as Blake ripped off the flimsy tunic. Blake paused briefly to discard his own clothing, then, impatient with his still building desire, he knelt down. Avon's legs stilled.

      "Don't." Avon's old pretence of resistance. Avon might not know who either of them were, but he was still the same man, with the same desires, ones Blake had always enjoyed fulfilling.

      "No? But you've always loved this." One hand pressed down lightly on Avon's abdomen as the other caressed a nipple. Blake's lips descended to lap at the nipple's partner. A sharp intake of breath from Avon, and Blake began to nibble, teeth biting gently at the hardened peak as Avon groaned. Encouraged, the hand on Avon's stomach began to move, travelling slowly, tantalizingly close to Avon's groin. Blake let it brush the wiry pubic hair, rewarded as Avon's hips thrust up.

      "I knew you'd like it like this; you always have done." Blake mumbled, mouth lifting, licking his lips and glancing down at the sharp thrust of Avon's desire. A faint moan and he looked back at Avon's face. The bewitching dark eyes were closed; the mouth open and panting slightly. Blake bent, holding his lips open barely an inch above Avon's. Their breath mingled, Blake withholding the kiss until Avon's eyes opened. Blake continued his exploration, Avon remaining virtually passive until Blake's hand closed over his cock, squeezing firmly. Blake felt the throbbing response, the trembling tension that indicated that Avon was already close to the edge.

      "Not quite yet, slave. I bought you to serve me, to serve my needs. Yours aren't important." Abandoning Avon's cock, Blake cupped his balls, rolling them before giving them a sharp tug. Avon gasped and tried to jerk away. Blake released his grip, knowing that the bright flash of pain that had crossed Avon's face would have pulled him back from the edge. Easing away, Blake stood up for a moment, considering.

      "I think a bit of lubrication is in order, don't you?" Stepping astride Avon's body, he knelt above his chest, cock inches away from Avon's lips. "Unless, of course, you've changed a lot." He paused. "Into pain, perhaps?" One hand caressed Avon's soft hair. Blake's grip suddenly tightened, turning the gentle touch into a warning. "Hurt me and you'll regret it."

      No verbal response was forthcoming; a flush covered Avon's cheeks, arms flexing within their bonds. But when Blake slid closer, erect cock brushing moistly against Avon's lips, he was taken in. Blake heard himself groan at the intensity of sensation, Avon's tongue rasping against his cock, teasing at the sensitive head, flickering. Hands holding up Avon's head, Blake thrust deeper, preventing Avon from jerking back as he fucked his throat, saliva and precum coating his cock, preparing it for its new home.

      Feeling himself getting close, and aware of a dim sympathy for Avon's by now sore throat, Blake released his hold, pulling himself free of Avon's warm mouth. Without taking his eyes from Avon's, Blake slid back until he was on his knees between Avon's legs. Firmly he pressed them wide and back, exposing Avon's smooth ass, the tiny pucker that tightened as Blake traced the crevice with a broad thumb. He felt the body beneath his hands shiver.

      "Very good, Avon. Now relax." Blake smiled as Avon, contrarily, tightened his muscles. It would hurt him at first, hurt them both a bit. Blake was not delicately built, even with a lot of lubricant, Avon had always found those first seconds of penetration painful. But once the pain had passed... One hand resting on Avon's hip to hold him still, the other guiding his cock to its goal, Blake teasingly brushed himself against Avon's ass, along the darkened furrow. Pressing lightly, he felt resistance. Shoving hard, his cock found passage.

Rate This Story: Feedback to

Next Page Previous Page First Page Page:  Library Library Help

Back to B7 Top