Flight of Fancy

Chapter Four

Gavin couldn’t help his loud moans and quivering body. God, Aidan’s mouth wouldn’t quit. And when the bastard did finally ease that incredible tongue from his ass, he’d replaced it with a finger as thick as a cock. Gavin couldn’t help rocking into it, even when Aidan ordered him not to. Damn, he wanted to please, and that inborn need scared him. Because he didn’t just want to please anyone, he wanted to please Aidan.

The blond giant remained behind him, one hand on Gavin’s ass while he kept that thick finger inside him, the other hand creeping up Gavin’s thigh. He skated past Gavin’s balls and gripped Gavin’s cock. Hard.

The pain wouldn’t have been so bad, but then Aidan squeezed, and Gavin feared he’d come.

“Not yet. Not until I tell you to.” Aidan’s quiet authority alerted every nerve in Gavin’s body to pay attention. “Now let’s see how you handle more.”

More?

“Yes, baby. More.”

Baby. Fuck. Gavin couldn’t help squeezing around Aidan’s finger. Aidan had shoved inside him dry, with only Aidan’s saliva to lube him. It had burned, more so because Gavin hadn’t played with anyone or anything in his ass for way too long.

“I’m going to fix that real soon.”

Aidan continued to read his mind, and the invasion added another penetration, arousing Gavin unbearably. He didn’t like anyone in his private thoughts, but Aidan owned him. Body and mind. And soul? He’d known about Aidan while in the PWP, but as no more than an annoying peer, one far above Gavin due to Aidan’s ability to work missions. Aidan Marshall—a legend in the field and a rumored beast in the sack. And right now, Gavin was learning firsthand how Aidan had gotten his reputation.

“I earned it, boy. Hard work and a lot of hard fucking.” Aidan removed his finger and stood.

Gavin wanted desperately to know what he was doing, but he hadn’t been told he could ask or turn around. He thought the question with focus and jumped when Aidan smacked his ass again. The pain stung, and the resulting throb in his cock and heaviness in his balls didn’t help. He wanted to come right now.

“You’re asking. Voiceless or not, you weren’t given permission to talk.”

“Oh, come on. Sir.”

Aidan smacked him several more times, and Gavin’s grunts turned into pleas for harder discipline.

“You little slut.” Aidan chuckled. “Who knew you had it in you? I like it, boy. I like it a lot.”

Aidan knelt behind him again, and Gavin held on to the table for dear life. After some rustling and a few moments of silence, a cold, slick finger eased into him. And then another joined the first.

“Wider. Can you take more, I wonder…?” Aidan let his fingers rest inside Gavin, allowing Gavin to adjust to the stretch in his rectum.

Fuck, it hurt. But Aidan wasn’t content to idly sit still. He prodded and reached, and he hit that spot inside Gavin that turned Gavin’s whole world white.

“There it is.” Aidan finger fucked him a few times, and just as Gavin readied to come, permission or not, the bastard stopped.

Damn it.

“Bad boy. You need to be punished again.” Aidan sighed.

Gavin heard a zipper and tensed, praying it meant what he thought it did. After a moment, Aidan positioned himself behind Gavin. The big blond didn’t speak, letting his actions tell their own story.

The broad head of his cock penetrated and continued to push, thicker than those fingers had been. Thank God he’d lubed himself, though, or Gavin feared he’d have done real damage.

“I told you not to come without permission, and you were intending to release no matter what. If you’d waited, I’d have made this better for you. But you need to learn.” Aidan suddenly shoved the whole of himself deep and nearly took Gavin off his feet.

“Shit.”

“Oh fuck. You feel good.” He shoved a hand between Gavin’s shoulder blades to keep him down and gripped his waist at the same time. “I’m going to come inside you.”

Gavin didn’t know how he felt about that. On the one hand, he didn’t worry about safety. Aidan wouldn’t compromise himself or Gavin. He might be an asshole, but on this point, Gavin trusted him.

“We have to start with trust somewhere,” Aidan said on a grunt and fucked him harder. The rough friction hurt. Especially since Gavin was aching with the need to climax.

“Oh yeah, there it is.” Aidan groaned, pumping into Gavin as he continued to release. “That felt good. I needed that.”

I need it too, Gavin wanted to shout, twitchy and stuffed full. Unsatisfied yet strangely content, he didn’t understand what the hell he could feel good about.

“You like that I came. You liked making your Master happy. And that’s good, because you’ve been pretty bad today.”

“Wh—”

Aidan remained inside him and leaned over his back to murmur in his ear, “You aren’t allowed to speak. You still consider me a bastard and an asshole. Tsk-tsk.” He rotated his pelvis and jostled that spot inside Gavin that made it hard to think about anything but coming. “And you don’t obey. You still want things your way. You can come, but it won’t be the joy you think it will.”

Aidan reached around and jerked him off in three strokes.

Gavin cried out and shot hard, gripping the thick rod still buried in his ass. When he could catch his breath again, he didn’t understand how Aidan could be right. The orgasm relieved him, but it hadn’t been as good as it had yesterday.

“Think about it. Go clean up; then get your ass back in here. Let’s see if your genius-level IQ is good for more than numbers.” Aidan withdrew and stood back, waiting.

Gavin didn’t censor his annoyance as he stumbled out of the kitchen. He walked down a hallway lined with prints of the mountains and natural wildflowers, poetic pieces he wouldn’t have thought Aidan would appreciate, and found the bathroom. A guest bath done in blues and browns, it had a masculine feel while being clean and polished enough to belong in a designer magazine. Yet another side of Aidan he’d never imagined.

After cleaning himself thoroughly using the shampoo and soap in the shower, and taking care to pay attention to the sorer parts of his body—namely, his ass—he dried off. Aidan hadn’t said he could wear the towel out. He’d insisted Gavin bring nothing with him for their training, and Gavin knew that meant he’d spend the better part of their time together naked.

With a glance at his body in the mirror, he saw what Aidan would see. A flushed, naive-looking young man whose eyes shone with sexual satisfaction, confusion, and worry. Holy shit. Just thinking that he’d had sex with hunky Aidan Marshall turned him inside out. Not that he didn’t consider himself okay in the looks department—Aidan had called him cute after all. But Aidan was the type of master that Gavin had been dreaming about for years. Strong, gruff, but not abusive. He meted out punishment and didn’t take any shit.

To Gavin’s horror, he started to grow hard again. His orgasm had been much needed, but not as good as yesterday’s, when he’d come all over Aidan’s belly. That sense of connection had been missing. But why? Hell, he’d had Aidan buried inside him. How much tighter could they get?

Aidan had given him permission to come. Yet Gavin hadn’t pleased his master. Not the way he should have. He realized his mistake and flushed with shame. And just as quickly, the notion infuriated him. He stormed out of the bathroom, heedless of his nudity, and confronted Aidan.

“You told me I could come.”

“Yet the first time, you almost came without permission, didn’t you? It was all about Gavin and Gavin’s feelings. You didn’t want to obey anyone but your cock.”

Gavin opened his mouth to retort but didn’t. He thought about it. “You got me really hard. That’s good.”

“Yes. And you showed absolutely no sense of understanding.” Aidan shook his head. His gaze remained on Gavin’s face, and the lack of desire Gavin sensed left him feeling embarrassed. He was fine to be naked when Aidan wanted him, but now he felt vulnerable and way underdressed.

“Exactly.” Aidan sat down behind the table. “You are vulnerable. The whole point about domination and submission is an exchange of power.”

“Where you hold all of it,” Gavin grumbled.

The disappointment on Aidan’s face dismayed him. God, why did he suddenly feel like crying? Frustration—that had to be it. That was all Aidan would need to think of him as a total lost cause.

“Gavin. Look at me.” Aidan’s soft voice shook him out of his thoughts. “It’s my job to see to your needs, not yours. It’s my job to make sure you’re warm, that you’re secure, that you’re coming when you need to. Not yours. The ultimate power is pleasure. Your pleasure. But the control is mine.”

Gavin needed a moment.

“No. Come here.”

Shit. He hated having nothing private.

“Now.”

He trudged to stand next to Aidan and let out a surprised curse when Aidan yanked him down onto his lap.

“You’re cold. And your ass is sore.”

Aidan pulled him into a hug that warmed him within. He didn’t protest when his head was shoved against Aidan’s broad chest, and the sound of his partner’s—Master’s—heartbeat racing under his ear brought him a sense of peace he’d been needing for a very long time.

“That’s it. Let it all go, Gavin. It’s my job to take care of you. And I always do my job.”

Gavin buried deep his secret wish that this could be more than a job. Because this feeling of closeness struck him right where it would hurt the most. His heart.

AIDAN LET GAVIN rest in his arms for a good while, until the slighter man fell into a light doze. Nothing sounded but the slow, steady breath of his boy against his chest. God, he didn’t understand this. Aidan didn’t want their embrace to end. He’d given comfort to any number of subs over the years. After a hard whipping or a rough beating, he’d soothe with creams and hugs, some gentle cuddling to ease the sub out of his zone. But he’d never felt such tenderness for a partner before.

Not sure why the hell this had to happen now and with Gavin, of all people. He slowly stood with Gavin in his arms. His boy snuggled closer and sighed, and Aidan tightened his hold. A funny ache in his chest told him he needed distance, so he carried Gavin into his bedroom and put him in bed. Gavin looked so small and innocent in the middle of the spacious room. After covering him with a thick, warm blanket, he closed the door behind him and went to the phone.

The second he heard Kitty answer, he asked, “Anything yet?”

“And hello to you too, Aidan.” She sounded irritated. “Hold on.”

Ian joined him. “Yo, Viking. What hails from the cold north?”

“Idiot. I’m three miles west of the gym.”

“With that cutie Gavin, I hear. Yum, yum.” Ian snickered.

“Shut it. So what’s the deal? You have my invite yet?”

“Almost. Gimme another day. I’m e-mailing you your cover, though. Big tough Dom and your boy toy. You’ll be a small arms dealer with connections in Canada. We’ll work the northerly bad-boy angle. What do you think?”

“Whatever. Just give me what I need, and I’ll take care of this.”

“Of course you will.”

Ian’s platitude annoyed him. “Anything else I should be aware of while I’m there?”

“Well, this didn’t come from Jack, but…”

“Ian.”

“That book is important to you-know-who. Problem is, even without the book, rumor has it Carl is gunning for our client. If it were me, I’d grab the book and take care of trouble, if you know what I mean.” Kill Carl Kerr went without saying. “Because as you know, you-know-who is a big player and one of the main reasons those jackasses stay off our tails.”

Aidan grunted. They had a pair of government watchdogs on them at all times who didn’t bother hiding anymore, and Aidan had no idea what Jack intended to do about them. But at least they left them well enough alone. The government hadn’t protested much when Jack and the rest of them left DC behind. But apparently Uncle Sam wasn’t stupid enough to let amped-up psychics run amok in the country. Even as far away as Oregon.

He frowned. “So you think Stallbridge—”

“Ahem.”

He rolled his eyes. “You-know-who is keeping them at bay?” Why they had to continue with Stallbridge’s secrecy, he had no idea. The team swept for devices on a daily basis.

“That’s my guess. I mean, we haven’t done anything to warrant the government taking us in. No weird abuses of psychic power anywhere. And then there are the Cannons.” The other resident psychics in Bend. A powerful family he’d been fortunate to avoid thus far during his time in Oregon. “They have a lot of pull in high places. They’re psychic, and no one bothers them.”

Aidan snorted. “Yeah, and they weren’t enhanced in government labs and trained to kill with a thought either.”

“That we know of.”

Good point. “So you’re telling me it would be a wise thing, in our best defense, to take care of the client in any way we see fit?”

“I can only speculate, Aidan. I’m just a peon, like you.” At Aidan’s growl, he amended, “Okay, not like you. I’m much better looking, for one,” he muttered and in a louder voice said, “You’re superior in size and brain power. Happy now?”

“Ian, get to the point.” No wonder Jack had a bottle of aspirin at his desk. Ian would drive a saint to drink. And Jack was no saint.

“Yeah, yeah. All I know is, if it were me, I’d eliminate any threat to my paycheck. Jack leaves a lot to your discretion, and you don’t abuse your authority, so he wouldn’t blink twice if Kerr just happened to suffer from an aneurysm. All I’m saying.”

Aidan stilled. “Wish I could help with that, but—”

“Right. You just read minds. You don’t influence or pulverize with your mental superpowers. Sure thing. Of course. What was I thinking?” In a peppier voice, he added, “Well, I’ve gotta go. Working the day shift is no fun without Chloe and the guys to annoy, but hey, Kitty’s into some flare-up with a hot-looking hunk, so I need to go and rescue her. Or him. I’m not sure yet.”

He hung up before Aidan could correct him. Hell. Did Ian know what Aidan could really do? Jack didn’t. How could a forger know what Aidan had kept buried more than half his life?

“Hey.”

He turned to see Gavin standing just inside the living room, a blanket wrapped around his waist and a frown on his face. “What?”

“You put me to bed?” The cute flush on his cheeks warmed Aidan in places he hadn’t realized were cold.

“You looked worn-out.”

“I was late this morning because I overslept. I’m just not used to all this…ah…sex.”

Aidan laughed. “Yeah? I figured. Your ass is like a glove. All nice and hot. We’re going to have a lot of fun this week.” Gavin’s embarrassment amused him. “Man, we just fucked. I emptied into that sweet ass. Hell, I rimmed and ate you up. What the hell are you embarrassed about?”

“So I can talk to you normally now?”

“My fault.” Aidan stood and crossed to Gavin. He pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and figured he might as well start a fire, since he planned to keep Gavin naked for the next three days they spent getting ready to tackle Kerr. “When we’re in scene, you’ll address me as Sir or Master. I’ll call you boy.” Or baby, which he hadn’t meant to let slip. It felt too personal, and he liked it too much. “But when we’re done, it’s just you and me.”

“Where I call you an asshole.” Gavin grinned.

That smile punched another hole through the barrier protecting Aidan’s heart. He had to clear his throat before warning, “Don’t push your luck.”

“So I can put my clothes back on?”

“No. Drop the blanket.”

Gavin sighed but did as told without question. Progress.

“I want you to be comfortable being naked around me. And I want access to that cock. Full-time.”

Gavin blew out a breath. “I have a feeling you say this stuff so I’ll turn red.”

“I do like that color on you. Turn around. Let me see that ass.”

Gavin turned, and Aidan saw the beginning of a bruise on his left buttock. “Pretty. You bruise easy.”

“Easy?” Gavin asked as he turned around. “Your hands are like bricks. No wonder they call you Viking.”

“I thought that was on account of my berserker of a cock.” Aidan winked.

Gavin laughed, and the smoky chuckle had Aidan joining in.

“Yeah, okay. You’re so big and studly. Oh, Aidan, you’re my hero.”

“Smart-ass.”

“So who were you on the phone with?”

The sense of camaraderie surprised him. Gavin was thinking that they’d put their issues behind them, and he saw Aidan as a real partner. The clear acceptance on Gavin’s part had the effect of brightening Aidan’s normally dour mood.

“I was talking to Ian—not by choice. We should have our info later today. I’m a small arms dealer with connections, and you’re my love slave.”

Gavin groaned. “Not slave.”

“The thought has appeal.”

“I’m sure.” Gavin shivered.

“You have thin blood.” He shrugged out of his own shirt, more than aware of the bag of clothes Gavin had brought with him, and put it over Gavin’s shoulders. The shirt hung on a frame meant to hold a shirt two sizes smaller, but Aidan liked seeing it there, just as much as he liked Gavin’s attention. “I know. I’m a lot to handle.”

“You have no problem with self-confidence.”

“Nope.” Not when it came to his body. The rest of him… He didn’t like to think about.

“So what now?”

“Now we get to know each other better. Then we see if you’ve learned anything from this morning.”

Gavin nodded, which surprised him. He hadn’t thought Gavin would be agreeable to another D/s scene so soon after being angry earlier. They might actually have a shot at pulling this off come Saturday.

With that in mind, Aidan built a fire. He squatted by the fireplace and arranged kindling. Then he watched as flames took life. He turned his head and noted Gavin’s gaze on his jean-clad ass.

“Like what you see?” he teased.

“Yeah. Just wondering if anyone’s ever fucked you.”

Aidan stood and faced his partner. God, he really thought of Gavin as his partner. The team fuckup had managed to sneak under Aidan’s shields in more ways than one. With that in mind, Aidan resolved to harden his livened emotions.

“That’s quite a question.” He crossed his arms over his chest, wanting to give the impression of strength when everything inside him shied away from bad memories. Had he ever been fucked? Yeah, and beaten and nearly strangled to death. Never again.

Gavin sighed. “And not an answer. But that’s okay. I’m good at solving puzzles.” Gavin walked up to him and placed his hands on Aidan’s biceps.

The contact sizzled. Everything faded but Gavin’s touch.

He wasn’t the only one affected. Gavin’s erection grew as he watched.

“I want to show you something. Can I kiss you…Master?”

Carl Kerr stared into the fireplace, hoping for answers. He’d spent the better part of last month’s earnings on Polski’s resourcefulness. Now he had the answer to his biggest problem. Except the fucking book meant nothing to him. He’d had it authenticated out the ass. Yes, it was several hundred years old. Yes, it belonged to the Stallbridge family, who had carved a nice little niche in the world of finances. And yes, Owen Stallbridge wanted it back.

But why?

Ignoring the muffled groans from the corner, he looked from the fire to the book and frowned. The cover was unremarkable. Tattered leather, some faded gold-embossed letters. Inside was much the same. An unremarkable story about love lost and found lined the antique pages. Some sexual drawings, a hierarchy of Stallbridges and the families they’d married into. A weird little book that wanted to be the Kama Sutra but came across as a bad edition of perversions and nonsense about men and women with weird brain types. More than half the material meant little to him. But Stallbridge wanted it, according to the price tag he’d attached to Chronicles. Kerr frowned. What could Stallbridge want with such an unremarkable book?

A careful inspection of the binding and cover showed no tampering. Nothing had been stuffed inside. No codes or coordinates. No hidden secrets that Carl could tell. The suspense was killing him. No way in hell Stallbridge wanted the book because it held sentimental value. And showing it off to the world couldn’t embarrass him. Who would give a shit about an old book written about the Stallbridges that had sexual connotations? Considering Stallbridge had never made any bones about caring what anyone thought of him, Carl couldn’t see him fearing the family exposed as perverts.

A shriek and sudden grunt took his attention. From his position on the couch, he had a front-row seat to all the entertainment in the room. The overlarge, cozy fireplace, the custom fifty-inch LED television, and the stainless-steel table on which a bloodied sex slave lay strapped and helpless while two hulking monsters abused him. Carl turned his attention from the book to the sexual tableau before him and eased his legs apart. He motioned for the newest slave kneeling by his side to suck him off. What this one lacked in expertise, he made up for in enthusiasm and youth. Though Carl had never liked little boys, he did like his partners on the young side. This one was twenty or twenty-two. He didn’t remember his name, but the dimples and freckles across the man’s nose gave him a hint of cute with a dose of naughty as his full lips closed around Carl’s cock.

“Good.” Carl stroked his hair before gagging the man on his dick. While his new slave struggled to breathe, Carl watched Samson shove his fully greased fist up the ass of the slight male chained to the table. “Samson, shift a bit. I can’t see fully.”

Samson moved. The giant Swede had been quite a find. Carl had lamented the loss of Joshua, his last security guard. They’d had a good bit of fun before the bruiser had protested what he called rape. Carl had thought of his last conquest as a bit of harmless fun. He particularly liked darker men. The contrast of his lighter skin color against a darker brown was beautiful. He constantly found himself vacillating between racial types. As he watched Samson violate the pitiable slave on the table, he shoved harder into the hot mouth surrounding him. “Suck me down your throat, you little shit.” He groaned as the man on the table moaned and jerked while Samson pushed deeper. “All the way, Samson. That’s pretty. Look at his balls. They’re tight. I think he’s going to come.” Not quite what Carl wanted. He liked pain, but he liked it better when the recipient didn’t.

Samson nodded at Tyler, Carl’s other personal protector. Tyler held a small whip and brought it down over the scars left from the last time they’d explored this type of entertainment.

“That has to be doing some damage.” The painful pleasure will be exquisite. “Make him come, Tyler.” It wouldn’t take long. This slave liked the lash too much. His draw to pain had made him instantly attractive, but now Carl was bored with him.

Tyler nodded. Samson withdrew his arm covered in a mess. The fluids just made it more real, more exciting. Then the whip descended. Screams, blood, and semen enhanced Carl’s enjoyment, surpassed only when Samson flashed a knife and the screams ended in a gurgle.

Humping his slave’s face as the violence escalated, Carl could no longer hold back. He jerked and jetted down his new boy’s throat.

He continued pumping between those pouty lips until he had nothing left. Then he pushed the young man off him. Not surprised to see tears in his slave’s eyes, he waved him away in disgust. “Samson?”

The larger man stood at a small sink washing himself clean. “Yes, sir?”

Carl liked that. Sir. Though not large, Carl had a commanding presence. He was like Samson, only smaller. They even looked alike. Blond hair, blue eyes. And that strength so apparent in Samson was reflected in Carl’s quick mind. Sharp, controlled. Powerful.

With a smile, he nodded to himself. “Zip me up, would you?”

Samson dried himself off, rolled down his shirt, and buttoned his sleeve. “Of course, sir.” After crossing to Carl, he knelt and reached between Carl’s legs.

Carl’s cock stirred.

Just as Samson pulled the zipper all the way up, Carl covered his hand.

“Sir?”

“Do you like working for me?”

Samson smiled, his avarice and cruelty readily apparent. “I do.”

“Good, good.” He let Samson go.

“What about Gary, sir?”

“Gary?”

Samson nodded to the dead man currently slumped over Tyler’s shoulder. Blood covered Tyler’s previously pristine white shirt. Between Tyler and Samson, he didn’t fear bodily harm. He’d seen both men plow through his enemies and not bat an eye.

“Ah, Gary. Dispose of him discreetly. Excellent performance, you two.”

Samson grinned, and Tyler nodded.

“Samson, the next time you need someone to play with, feel free to use my new toy.” He glanced at the freckle-faced young man sobbing on the ground. “He’s not very good, but he has potential.”

Samson licked his lips. “With pleasure.”

His slave whimpered.

The big man liked a challenge. Carl had noticed Samson looking himself over a time or two and had considered allowing him some fun. His guard was smart enough to know not to damage the boss, not if he wanted to live. But Carl didn’t like giving up control, and Samson was the type who wanted to fight for it.

Perhaps hurting his new slave would sate Samson’s hunger for pain. Then again, keeping his guard on the edge only made him that much more feral when it came to dealing with Carl’s adversaries.

“Oh, but Samson?” he called when Samson turned away. “Don’t play with him unless I’m there to watch. I want this one to last a little longer than Gary. He’s still so innocent.”

“Sure thing, boss. And Stallbridge. What do you want me to do about him?”

Kill him, came the immediate answer. “Let’s sit and wait. I’m sure he’ll start poking around soon enough, maybe even this weekend at the party. That’s what I’d do. I need to know who’s working for him. I have an idea, but I’m not one hundred percent sure my source was right.” Real psychics? Ex-government agents? None of it made a lick of sense, but he’d wait and see. “I can’t wait until this weekend, can you?”

“No, sir,” Samson and Tyler answered as one.

Carl tittered. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.