Just a Bit Wrong (Straight Guys 4)

Zach’s glare was strong enough to send someone cowering away. “Spankable.”

“Ah,” Tristan said, struggling to keep his tone light-hearted and mocking. “Admit it: you totally loved spanking me. You’re dying to do it again.” He meant it as a joke. Mostly.

But when Zach’s eyes glazed, Tristan’s smile faded, his mouth suddenly very dry.

Their eyes locked.

Move, the voice in the back of his mind whispered. Get out of here.

But Tristan couldn’t, pinned in Zach’s gaze and caught in a web of need.

Every passing second made each breath more and more difficult, leaving Tristan feeling oddly exposed and vulnerable. But it was a double-edged sword: he knew Zach wanted it, too.

“Come here,” Zach said, his voice low-pitched and his face grim.

It was vague, but Tristan knew what he meant. What they both wanted.

Slowly, as though in a dream, Tristan moved and laid himself over Zach’s lap. Burying his face in the mat, he closed his eyes as he felt Zach’s hand tug his shorts down, his movements impatient, urgent and jerky.

He was wearing no underwear. Tristan could almost physically feel Zach’s eyes on the curve of his bare ass.

They probably shouldn’t do this.

But on the other hand, this was safe enough. It wasn’t sex, but it was something. An outlet for all the pent-up frustration that had been building up within him.

A slap landed on his cheek.

Tristan swallowed the gasp that rose to his lips. He could feel the sting and the residual heat where Zach’s hand had landed. It felt…weird: satisfying at the same time as it was humiliating. Which probably only went to prove that he was out of his mind to have ever let himself get into this situation.

For a long moment, Zach’s hand merely caressed the smooth skin that still bore the imprint of his fingers.

Tristan tried to fight the temptation to move his hips and lean into the touch. It wasn’t sex. They weren’t having sex. “That’s all you’ve got? Feels like a bee sting.”

“You little—” Zach’s hand came down on his buttock in a hard, stinging slap. Tristan gasped, rubbing his flushed cheek against the mat as Zach began spanking him in earnest, not giving him any time to talk between blows.

This time Tristan didn’t fight the floaty, warm feeling that started clouding his senses. He relaxed, gasping with every smack. His skin began to sting pretty hard, and every smack felt sharper and better—

Suddenly, the spanking stopped. Tristan made a disappointed noise.

“If I don’t stop now, you won’t be able to sit tomorrow,” Zach said, his voice harsh and his breath ragged.

Tristan squirmed against Zach’s palm. More.

“It will hurt,” Zach grunted, his big hand touching Tristan’s stinging cheek.

Tristan squirmed again, leaning into the touch. He couldn’t ask aloud.

“It will be irresponsible.” Zach sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“Shut up and just do it,” Tristan whispered. “Make me hurt.”

Silence. The moment stretched out. He could feel Zach looking down at him, and the tension mounted as Tristan resisted the urge to turn his head and meet Zach’s eyes, to end this maddening waiting. He wanted to plead with Zach to spank him harder, to take him, to just do something—

He couldn’t hide his gasp when a hand dug into his hair, forcing Tristan to turn his head and look at Zach. The heat in Zach’s gray eyes burned him, the intensity making something inside of him turn warm. It felt like Zach’s face filled his entire world, leaving room for nothing else. Zach’s hand went to Tristan’s throat, so gentle, yet so threatening. A thumb stroked his pulse before the fingers tightened, ever so slightly.

Tristan didn’t move, just looked at him from under his eyelashes.

Zach’s nostrils flared. He bent forward, bringing his face close to Tristan’s, until their breath mingled and their lips were so close, so close…Tristan strained for the contact, aching for Zach’s lips, wanting to be kissed, but Zach straightened up with a low, “Fuck.” Tristan couldn’t quite stifle the whine of disappointment.

Zach looked at him, a dark expression on his face.

Suddenly Tristan was painfully aware how vulnerable he was in this position: lying half-naked across his physio’s lap, with absolutely no leverage to do anything. And Zach’s hand was still around his throat.

Looking Zach in the eye, Tristan relaxed, baring his throat further.

Zach inhaled sharply, lunged forward and sank his teeth into the sensitive skin of Tristan’s neck. They both moaned, and Tristan’s eyes slid close, his body going slack, his mind blissfully blank as Zach practically chewed on his neck. It wasn’t a kiss, nor was it a hickey. It hurt—it hurt a great deal, but the pain mixed with such toe-curling pleasure that Tristan found himself grinding his erection against Zach’s thigh.

“You aren’t supposed to be enjoying this.” A vicious whack landed on his left buttock, the force of it making air whoosh past his lips, and then another, and another. All the while Zach kept sucking and biting on his neck, his harsh breath the only sound Tristan could focus on.