Chapter Two

 

 

 

What the fuck was he doing? Flying to meet some man he’d met on the Internet, on chat rooms for fucking kink, for God’s sake. Christian had never even… He hadn’t done more than read about…things. He needed some time alone, to wash his face and breathe. As soon as they got to Peter’s house.

They pulled up into the garage of a high rise, and Peter parked the car, then came around to open the door for him, warm smile on his face.

“Wow.” Christian had never seen an apartment that was in a high rise. “What floor?”

“My condo is on the seventeenth floor. Come on.”

He grabbed his bag and Peter took his hand, leading him to an elevator. “Almost there.”

“That’s cool.” Why on earth had Peter chosen a soldier? Why had Peter chosen him?

The elevator arrived and they got on, Peter pushing him up against the wall as soon as the doors closed again. Then their mouths were fused together, Peter kissing him. Christian’s eyes flew open, his entire body going hard.

Peter pressed against him, this kiss much more…full body than the first they’d shared in the SUV at the airport.

He fought to breathe, to focus on stealing gasps of air. When Peter finally pulled away, he gave Christian a slow smile. “I have been wanting to do that ever since we kissed at the airport.”

It was his second kiss.

Ever.

And Peter promptly pressed his third on him, lips firm, tongue pushing, demanding entrance.

The elevator bell dinged and he pulled away, gasping hard. Goddamn.

Peter took his hand again and led him out of the elevator and down a hall. They stopped in front of a door marked 174, and Peter unlocked the door. “You ready, boy?”

No. No, he was never going to be ready for this. “Lead the way.”

Peter pulled him in, closed the door, and pressed him up against it, their bodies sliding together.

“I need to…” He was so hard he hurt.

“I know what you need.” Peter slid a hand between them and pushed it into his slacks. Long, strong fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Oh, Jesus!” He jerked, and his entire world stopped. He hadn’t expected…

“No, but you can call me ‘sir’.” Peter tugged on his cock, fingers holding him tight.

His hips moved, fucking Peter’s hand hard and fast, driving toward the finish.

Peter’s fingers tightened around his flesh. “Yeah, that’s it, boy. I’ve got what you need right here. Take it.”

He didn’t know if this was all there was going to be, but he intended to do exactly that—take it.

Peter put a little twist on his wrist every time Christian rocked back. Then Peter took another kiss, tongue sliding in and out of his mouth.

Soon. God, soon. He was spinning out of control, his entire body lit up and on fire.

“It’s okay,” Peter told him. “You’re allowed to come.”

Allowed to come.

Allowed to come.

Allowed to…

He shot, biting back his cry.

“That’s it. Such a good boy.” Peter’s hand slowed but didn’t stop moving on him.

“I’m—” He shook his head, sucking in a deep breath. He couldn’t breathe.

“Amazing.” Peter kissed him again, tongue sliding into his mouth in slow sweeps.

No. No, he thought he was overwhelmed, a touch shattered.

“Come on, let me show you the shower first. We’ll get you cleaned up.” Peter’s hand slid away from his cock.

“I… Thank you. Yes, please.” He could use some alone time, a chance to get his shit together.

Peter took his hand again, leading him down the hall. The bathroom was large, with the biggest shower he’d ever seen. There were three showerheads, each at a different level.

Peter started undressing him.

“I can do it.” He needed some time alone.

“We can undress each other. It’s more fun that way.”

“I’m… Okay.” Damn it.

Peter looked into his eyes and smiled. “This is what you want, Christian. Just relax and go with it.”

“I need a few minutes to just get myself together.” He did want this. He thought. Maybe.

“A few minutes to get yourself together or to talk yourself out of it?” Peter asked, one eyebrow going up.

“I don’t know. I just need to get myself together.”

Peter shook his head, and continued undressing him, tugging his T-shirt up over his head. “You’re going to have to safeword to keep me from sharing this shower with you.”

His orgasm-fuddled brain couldn’t deal with that. He needed to find his center again, discover his middle.

With his T-shirt out of the way, Peter undid his belt, pulling it slowly out of the loops before dropping it to the floor. It was extremely intimate, having someone else undress him. Intimate and unnerving as fuck.

“Easy,” Peter murmured as he slowly drew down Christian’s zip. Before it was all the way down, Peter’s mouth covered his. The kiss was gentle, but firm at the same time, Peter’s tongue pressing between his lips. How could there be so many different kinds of kisses?

He reached for Peter and held on, needing to keep his balance, to keep himself upright. Peter nodded, pulling away only long enough to add, “That’s it. I’ve got you,” then was kissing him again, keeping it soft.

“I’m not used to this,” he moaned, and the admission made him ashamed.

“I know. I’m going to make sure when you leave you are used to it. That you’ve enjoyed ten days of kissing and touching and fucking and coming. You’re going to be sore in places you never dreamed of, stretched in ways you can’t even imagine. It’s going to be amazing.” Peter held his gaze, so serious. “I’m going to change your life.”

That was what Christian was afraid of.

Peter went back to kissing him, mouth keeping him busy, and mostly distracted as Peter worked his jeans over his ass and down his thighs. His underwear followed, everything pooling between ankles and knees.

He told himself he’d been naked in front of a shitload of guys. He was a soldier, for fuck’s sake. Privacy wasn’t a thing.

Still, this was tough and more than a little weird.

Peter took a half a step back and moaned, gaze traveling over him, admiration clear. “Fuck, Christian. Such a stud.”

“I work out a lot.” Constantly. He worked and worked out and tried not to lose his shit.

“It shows.” Peter touched his biceps, then his pecs, hand warm, touches firm. “Let’s get this finished.” Peter bent and undid the laces on his boots, then helped him step out of them and his pants before tugging off his socks, leaving him completely bare. He resisted the urge to cover his cock with one hand.

Peter licked his lips, looking him up and down again. Then he grinned and held out his arms, “My turn.”

He nodded and moved around behind Peter, hiding himself a bit and letting Peter feel him, feel how big he was. Peter went with it, leaning back against him. “Mmm. Love how big and strong you are.”

At least Peter was letting him have this bit of privacy. He needed it right now to keep his shit together.

Reaching back, Peter grabbed onto his hip, fingers warm on his skin. “More naked, boy.”

“I’m sorry. I’m”—lost—“on it.”

“You can take your time undressing me, but I want you to start. I want to feel your hands on me.”

He nodded and worked the buttons open on Peter’s cuffs, then his shirt, one at a time. Peter hummed and stroked his hip, fingertips leaving trails of fire. Christian eased the shirt off, and he had to touch, had to feel Peter’s skin.

Peter groaned for him as he stroked the smooth, warm skin. Peter was in great shape—hot six pack and firm pecs, not an ounce of fat on his body.

“You work out. You’re ripped.” He could worship at the altar of Peter’s body for hours.

Peter flexed for him. “I needed to make sure I was good enough for this hot soldier I’m seeing. He’s a real all-American stud, you know.”

“I try.” He dared to run his fingers down Peter’s arm.

“You do more than try. And you can keep doing that, too. I think I’m going to become addicted to your touch very quickly.” Peter’s voice was thick—he sounded aroused.

He dragged his touch down to Peter’s wrist, pushing hard enough that they would both feel it. Peter groaned, rocking back against him, slacks-covered ass rubbing along his bare cock.

He tried to lean back, arch his cock away, but it didn’t work. Peter shook his head. “You’re not done undressing me, boy.”

“No, sir.” He forced his hands to stop shaking and he opened Peter’s belt, unbuttoned his fly.

Peter’s moan was shockingly loud and almost had him jumping out of his skin. “Breathe, Christian. This is what we both want.”

“Yes, sir.” He just needed to do this, get through this right now so it was a memory instead of anticipation.

He felt Peter’s cock pushing against his fingers as he pulled down the zipper and Peter’s breath caught.

“Can’t wait to feel you touching me.”

“Do you want me to tug you off now?”

Peter shook his head. “I just want you to touch me, to explore. I know you’ve never done this before—take your time.”

No. He dreamed about it a lot, though. He imagined it more than was healthy.

He pushed Peter’s pants down off his hips and Peter toed off his shoes before stepping out of the slacks, leaving him in nothing but his socks and underwear. Peter turned and smiled at him, the bulge in his white underwear unavoidable. Christian found himself looking somewhere to the left of Peter’s shoulder, the action deeply ingrained.

Peter palmed his cheek. “Look at me, boy.” Peter didn’t shout or even speak particularly loudly, but Christian could hear the order in his voice. This was not a request. He met Peter’s eyes. “I want you to admire and touch. You are in a different world now. So look at me. All of me.”

He dipped his head in a nod. Control yourself, Sergeant. You know how to do this. You can follow orders.

“And, boy?” Peter waited until he met the man’s eyes again. “You’re supposed to enjoy this.”

“Yes, sir.” He wasn’t sure about that. He knew the soldier in him could handle anything, but he had to look at it through those eyes, through ice.

Peter stepped close, lips pressing against his. The kiss remained soft, gentle, then Peter pressed his tongue in.

Christian slowly eased Peter’s briefs off, careful not to catch the tip of the man’s cock. Peter groaned into their kiss and pressed close, the heat of his erection brushing against Christian’s hip, leaving a single drop of liquid on his skin.

Christian sucked in a lungful of air and let himself feel that, them, together.

Peter stepped closer and now they were pressed together all along their bodies. “Feel the heat coming off you.”

He couldn’t feel anything but Peter’s bare skin sliding against his own. Peter kept moving, just gently sliding them together. It was intoxicating, unbelievably arousing.

It was like dancing, but so much more than that, than simply moving.

“You haven’t touched my cock yet, Christian.”

“Do you want me to?”

Peter held his gaze, refusing to let him look away. “More than just about anything right now.”

He told himself it was only fair. Peter had touched him, had made him orgasm. Telling himself that made it easier.

When he brushed Peter’s cock with his fingertips, Peter moaned and pushed toward him. It was heavy, longer than his, so incredibly hot.

“Don’t stop,” murmured Peter, hands sliding along his shoulders.

“No, sir.” He dared to explore, pushing hard here and there, dragging his fingers over the thin skin of Peter’s shaft.

Peter shifted and moaned—there was no doubt that he was enjoying what Christian was doing. The sounds bordered on obscene. They poured over him like music and the thought made him smile—he wasn’t a poet. He was a soldier. He didn’t have thoughts like that.

Peter brought it out in him. Peter brought a lot of stuff out in him. Witness the fact that he was exploring another man’s cock and thinking about it inside him.

Not that that was on the table. Not yet. They hadn’t agreed to that. That didn’t stop his brain from going there, and he wasn’t sure if it would be a good thing or not.

Peter growled softly. “Focus, boy. I’m right here and you have my cock in your hand.”

“I am!” he protested. He was doing this, wasn’t he?

“You were thinking about stuff,” Peter noted. “I don’t want you thinking. I don’t want you worrying or anything. I just want you to feel.”

He quite privately thought the world didn’t work like that, but he went with nodding and agreeing. “Yes, sir.”

Moaning at his words, Peter pushed into another kiss, tongue tangling with his. It nearly made him forget about everything, even the cock in his hand. Nearly. The heat of Peter’s cock, the way the tip was leaking and making it slick, ensured he didn’t actually lose sight of what he was doing.

Christian knew that he craved the sensation of his palm over the head of his cock, that it was the move guaranteed to get him off, so he tried it on Peter.

“Damn!” Peter bucked for him, fingers digging into his shoulders, the nails biting at his skin.

Hopefully that was good. He did it again, just to check one way or the other. Peter bucked again, body dragging along his.

Yeah, that was really fucking good. Christian grinned to himself, finally, blessedly feeling like he was in control.

“Grab your cock, too,” Peter told him. “Hold us both in that big old sexy hand of yours.”

Christian’s hips bucked like they had a mind of their own. Peter was right there, meeting his movement and matching it. “You like it when I talk dirty to you.”

“Shh.” That had been all they had.

“You do, though. And I’m not going to stop talking. I’m not going to let you hide away from our truths.” Peter grabbed his cock and pushed it into his hand, squishing it up against Peter’s.

Our truths. As if they were separate from the others.

Peter squeezed his hand closed around both cocks and led him in moving them together, his palm sliding up and down along their flesh. It was the strangest sensation—he could feel his fingers on one side, but on the other? There was a solid, foreign heat.

“So good,” Peter murmured, clearly refusing to be quiet. “Your hand is hot, but your cock is hotter. And I can’t wait to bury myself inside you, to be squeezed on all sides by your ass.”

The words made his fingers tighten and he began to jack them, fast and hard.

“That’s it. Make us both feel it. Next time it’ll be your mouth. I can’t wait to feel you suck me, to sink into your lips.”

Shut up. God. Shut up. He bared his teeth, went up on tiptoe and kept tugging.

Peter just kept talking, voice thick with need. “God, yes. You want that, too. I know you do. I can feel it in the tightness of your hand, see it in the flare of your nostrils.”

He buried his face in the curve of Peter’s shoulder with a moan.

“You’re going to wait for me before you come again,” Peter told him. “Because it’s my time.”

That was fair, right? Totally fair. He arched his hips back, let his aching cock go so he could focus on Peter.

Peter growled and stepped back. “Did I say you could let go of your cock? No, I didn’t. I just warned you not to come before I did.”

The word didn’t sting near as much as the loss of Peter’s heat, and he growled back, the sound pure instinct. “Don’t snap at me, man. I was trying to give you what you wanted.”

“Easy, boy. Remember who is master here.” These words were much calmer, but backed by a vein of absolute iron.

“I don’t need to be snarled at.” He was a damn good soldier, dammit.

One of Peter’s eyebrows went up. “I might have growled. I didn’t snarl.”

“Now you’re splitting hairs.” He felt his skin getting hot and he blushed dark.

“And you’re fighting me. You’re pushing because you want me to push back, to force you to submit. You want it, but you don’t want to admit it. It’s so much easier if I make you.”

Was he? He hadn’t been trying to push. He’d been trying to give Peter an orgasm.

“I bet you don’t even realize you’re doing it. It’s okay, Christian. I’m going to push you, I promise. And as long as you remember your safeword, you can struggle and say no all you want—I’m going to make you take it. Take my will.”

“I don’t like this.” He wanted to know what he was doing. He wanted to be in control of his own mind. That was why he’d started talking to Peter to begin with. He’d needed someone real to fight the nightmares. A promise of more.

Peter tilted his head, then took his hand and led him through the apartment to the couch, sat him down. “Talk to me, Christian. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

“We’re naked.” Hard. On the sofa. And Peter wanted to talk?

“We are. So there’s nowhere to hide.”

“I’m not hiding.” He wasn’t.

“Then tell me what’s on your mind. Tell me why you’re fighting me?”

“I didn’t think I was! I was trying to make you shoot!”

“You were trying to take control.”

“I was trying to do what you wanted.” He had a headache.

“And I’m just trying to do what you wanted.” Peter took his hand and squeezed. “Maybe we should just go back to getting our rocks off, hmm?”

“Maybe I’m not meant to do this. Maybe we should just… I don’t know. Just be two guys having a couple of orgasms and a beer.” Wasn’t that what was normal anyway?

“We can share orgasms to start with, but you know deep down you want more than that.” Peter leaned in and kissed him, hard. “Okay. Shower, you make me come, and we have pizza and beer.”

“I can handle that.” It had to be less weird that sitting bare-assed on the sofa.

“We will pick this topic back up, though. You came here for more than shared hand jobs and pizza.” Peter stood and took his hand, tugging.

“I came to meet you.” And that was the important part, right? Meeting Peter face-to-face?

Peter kept his hand as they made their way to the bathroom. The shower was big and there were multiple shower heads. How decadent was that?

“And I’m glad you came to meet me, to get to see you in person. We’re more than just two guys who are into each other, though. We’ve been talking about a BDSM relationship, about how much you need it, about how I’m the guy for you.”

He was stupidly grateful that Peter didn’t use the ‘M’ word.

Peter turned on the shower, water seeming to come from all directions. Shooting him a grin, Peter pushed him into the spray and joined him. “And I said we could just shower and get off and eat pizza for now, so I won’t keep pushing. For the next couple hours.”

“Yeah. Orgasm. Pizza and beer.” That worked for him, down to the bone.

Peter grabbed a brown sponge with a bunch of holes in it, poured some soap out of a bottle onto the thing and began to rub him, starting at his shoulders and leaving soap in the sponge’s wake.

His eyes flew open. The act was so intimate, so fucking hot.

Peter’s gaze was following the sponge, sliding over his body like it was another touch. The way Peter looked at him felt…like he was fascinating to the man. He looked for a bar of soap, something. “I haven’t used a sponge since I was little.”

“Well, technically, this is a loofah. It scrubs your skin a little when you use it. I like the way my skin feels after. Lift your arms up for me.”

“Okay…” He found himself shivering, goosepimples coming up.

Peter washed under his arms, moving slowly, but pressing hard enough not to tickle at his pits. This seemed even more intimate—nobody ever touched him there for any reason.

His cock burned, his balls drawn up just enough to ache. God. God, that was maddening.

Even more maddening was the knowing smile Peter gave him, eyes twinkling up at him for a moment before Peter went back to washing him.

“This is weird.” And wonderful.

“Just weird?” Peter asked, not stopping. The soft touches continued to build the ache in his cock and balls.

“Intimate. Very.”

Peter smiled and nodded. “Yes. When I say share a shower, I don’t mean quickly wash yourself while not looking at the person you’re sharing with. This is meant to be sexy and sensual.”

“I’m not sure soldiers are sensual…”

“You’re more than just a soldier, Christian. And you’re definitely not one right here and now.”

He knew better. He was always a soldier. Always.

“Anyway. No thinking about your job. Right now you’re a naked man in my shower, getting washed with my magic loofah of love.” Peter put on a cheesy voice for the last few words.

Christian blinked once, then started laughing, the little joke just hitting his funny bone. Peter looked pleased at having made him laugh and now the touches along his ribs were more tickles than caresses, Peter’s low chuckles joining his laughter as he wriggled and twitched.

He reached for Peter and started touching back, almost tickling himself. It was easier like this, when he felt like he got it.

Peter groaned and began pushing into his touches, the laughter fading as everything became overtly sexual now. He explored Peter—chest and belly, hips and ass, then he moved to jack Peter’s cock like he wanted to.

“You want to taste me?” Peter asked. “To go down on your knees and take my cock in your mouth?”

What if he gagged? What if he puked? What if…? “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Then do it. Get down on your knees for me because I have to tell you, I want your mouth. I want it so bad. I want to watch my cock sliding between your lips. I want to feel the heat of your mouth sucking at me.”

He groaned, dragging his fingers over Peter’s lips. God, the man was good at that. Smiling, Peter grabbed at his fingers, sucking two in.

“Oh!” Oh, God. It was like there was a string from his fingers to his cock.

Peter ran his teeth over the pads of Christian’s fingers, and little explosions started there.

He couldn’t have fought his moan, no matter what.  

“Mmm.” Peter’s hum vibrated along his fingertips. Then Peter put a hand on his shoulder. Peter didn’t push him down, but he could feel it, feel that Peter wanted him to.

He whimpered when his fingers slipped from Peter’s mouth and he lost that suction.

“You were going to blow me…” Peter still didn’t push him down.

“Yeah.” God, let it work for him. He knelt down as carefully as he could, and leaned over to take the tip of Peter’s cock in. It wasn’t nasty at all. Peter tasted clean and fresh, warm and male, the flavor surprising on his tongue.

He’d tasted himself before, sure—once at the request of Peter himself—but never another man.

Peter’s hands slid over his head, the touches gentle, encouraging, not forcing him to do anything, just another point of connection.

He began to suck, carefully. He explored Peter’s shaft, the tip of his tongue tracing the veins there. Peter was very responsive, moaning for him, squeezing his head now and then to let him know how good it was.

And it was, honestly. It felt weirdly right, to have the hard cock piercing his lips. It slid a little deeper as Peter began to rock, pushing the thick erection in. It took him a few tries, to relax past the gag reflex.

“There you go. Nice and easy, Christian. Giving your lover a blow job is a wonderful thing. Enjoy it. Revel in it.”

He hoped he could. He wanted to. He reached up and cupped Peter’s sac, rolling it gently.

“Oh yes. Such good instincts, boy.”

God, that word. It made his cock ache.

He sucked a little harder, earning him a moan from Peter. “God, don’t stop.”

His suction increased even more and that made Peter cry out and hold on tight.

“Gotta move,” Peter said, beginning to rock gently.

He’d settled into it by then, and he opened up, taking more, then more again. Peter’s fingers wrapped around his skull, fingers digging in, holding him in place as Peter’s rocking picked up speed.

He opened up, and God, it was hard to trust, to let Peter in.

As the thrusts continued, though, they didn’t push too far, didn’t choke him, and Peter always pulled back right away. They found a rhythm, in and out, in and out, over and over.

He knew when Peter was going to come. Not only did the cock in his mouth seem to swell further, Peter’s fingers dug in harder. A shout was his last warning, Peter’s cock shooting cum into his mouth.

He swallowed hard, taking in every drop, his own cock stiff between his legs. Peter’s hold gentled, the fingers digging into his head, then loosening their hold, Peter petting his head.

He wasn’t sure what to do next—whether to stay where he was or get up. Peter slid his hands around Christian’s arms and tugged him up.

He stood on shaky legs, his cock heavy and throbbing. Peter wrapped his hand around Christian’s cock, fingers dragging along it.

“Oh.” His hips jerked, slamming up toward Peter’s touch.

“Such need. It amazes me how you can sublimate this day after day. You need to let it all out, and take what you need.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“No? How does it work?” Peter continued to stroke him, the movements slow and deliberate.

“I’m a soldier. I fight. I use…” God, why talk when there was a hand working his cock?

“You use what?” Peter rubbed his thumb across the tip of Christian’s cock, making him cry out, then that hand stilled, simply holding him. “Go on, please.”

“I use that energy to fight.”

“Ah. Well, you don’t have to fight here.” Peter caught his lips in another kiss, hand beginning to move again, rubbing along his cock.

Christian had been fighting for his entire life—pushing to be the best, to be the superior soldier.

“All you need to do is feel, is give in to that, to me.” Peter’s strokes sped up.

He closed his eyes, the world disappearing with the promise of this orgasm. All that existed was Peter’s hand and the feelings it brought. Then Peter began tapping his slit with every upstroke, the touches jolting him.

“Give in to it, boy. Let the pleasure through—you don’t have to keep holding onto it. Not here, not with me.”

God, he’d never imagined that Peter would talk during sex. That it would turn him on so much.

“Come on. I’ve come—it’s your turn again. I know you can feel it gathering in your balls. Let it go. Show me.”

“Show you.” He bit his bottom lip hard, letting it sting.

“Hey. If you want someone to bite your lip, leave it to me.” Peter took his lower lip in and began sucking on it.

It occurred to Christian that Peter couldn’t kiss and watch at the same time, but he didn’t bother to try and explain.

Pulling at his lower lip, Peter slowly let it go, then pressed hard against his slit. “I want you to come for me. I want you to do it right now.”

The sting buzzed down into his balls and he arched as he shot, rocking up on his tiptoes.

Peter groaned loudly and kept stroking him, and he shuddered, the pleasure stretching on. “Oh, boy. You’re doing so well.”

He didn’t know which was better, the pleasure or the words.

Peter slowly let go of his cock and rubbed the cum into his skin.

His belly went tight and he moaned, eyes rolling back in his head.

Peter latched onto his neck, sucking on his skin. Marking him. Fucking marking him.

“I…” Oh, fuck. That was hot. He could feel the bruise forming, feel the blood coming up under the surface.

Ten days. He had ten days before he had to go back. It would fade by then. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure he cared very much right now. He was mustering out.

Christian lifted his chin for more.

Peter gave it to him, humming and licking, moaning around his skin.

The water started to cool before Peter backed away, and he hadn’t even noticed the passage of time.

Peter drew him out of the shower, all smiles. “You ready for that pizza and beer, babe? We can sit naked on the couch and watch sports.”

All he could manage was a dazed, lazy nod.

Peter looked very pleased with himself. Christian let himself be led to the sofa, the cushions warm from the sun. Peter turned on the TV, finding a ball game, then ordered the pizza and sat with him.

It was nice, just sitting close and hanging out, a game on TV. Like everything was perfectly normal.

When Peter reached over and touched his thigh, he didn’t even jump.