“Jesus fucking Christ, Julian.” He thrust his hips, letting Julian’s words and his imagination carry him away. As his fist slid up and down his cock, fire rushed through his veins. His orgasm built with every word coming from Julian’s filthy mouth.
“Give it all to me, B.” Julian’s breathy command had him groaning as he thrust faster into his fist.
“Harder, spread me open with your big cock. I’m so close. I want to come hard on your dick.”
“Holy fuck.” The hot friction of his fist and Julian’s words had Beckett’s muscles tensing as his balls drew tight against his body.
“Come for me, B. Let me hear my name on your lips.” Julian’s command, husky and raw, unleashed a torrent of animalistic desire pulsing through his veins.
“Julian,” he cried out as the fire building in his core suddenly rushed to his balls with such force his toes curled inside his boots as his release slammed into him hard and fast. Hot jets of come shot across his stomach and chest. His body bowed off the ground as he continued to stroke his cock, lost in the vision of Julian filling his head.
Julian’s breaths were heavy and coming faster. “Yes, Beck… Augh…” Julian groaned, long and deep, sending a wave of aftershocks throughout Beckett’s body.
“Damn, that was…” Words refused to form in his head. He was so fucking blissed out he didn’t give a shit that his team had probably heard him cry out and could be searching for him at that very moment. He didn’t move. He couldn’t. He just lay there, staring at the sky full of beautiful stars, enjoying the sound of Julian’s breathing.
As come trailed into Julian’s belly button, he realized he hadn’t given a thought to the consequences before getting them started. Julian looked down at his lower chest and stomach, both splattered in his come and nothing in reach to help wipe it away. He’d been too focused on Beckett to think things through, and now he was going to have to do some fancy maneuvering if he planned on keeping it off his clothes.
“I’m putting the phone down for a second.”
“Me too. I didn’t think this through before we started.” The sated drawl in Beckett’s voice slid over Julian, making him smile. He put the phone on the sofa’s cushion and reached for the tissues on the coffee table, giving his best attempt at keeping his body concave to avoid any drippage.
He quickly swiped at the release on his belly. Lost in Beckett’s urgent tone, he’d painted every direction of his chest. With no warning at all, the edges of his vision began to fade.
Fuck, not again. This time, he didn’t lose complete sight of his surroundings. His belly became a screen for the projector of images in his head. Julian was covered in come, both wet and dried. Based on the sharp pain at his wrists and ankles, he’d been tied down. Memories filled his vision of a man’s hand aggressively rubbing a scratchy cloth over his belly and chest. No, not a cloth. It was the ugly outdated bedspread under him.
Julian tried to catalog every detail about the full sleeve of tattoos covering the hand and arm in his field of vision. That was the first concrete memory of anything associated with his abductor. He tried to hold on to the memory. The come on his chest appeared to be from multiple directions. A fat cock shoved into his mouth. They’d used him. He recognized the memory of his own fear, the taste of it bitter in his mouth. By this point in the abduction, he’d feared for his own life. Floating in and out of consciousness provided his only relief from the dread of what would happen next.
Bile rose in his throat as he relived the moment. He’d opened his eyes to see a hard fist with a silver skull ring coming at his face, and darkness swallowed him again. Julian pushed at his memory, anxiously grasping for more details. He was blocked with nothing but blackness.
“You there?” Beckett asked, his voice muted by the placement of the phone.
“Just a minute,” Julian called out, drawing in a deep breath. He finished cleaning himself while taking inventory of his body’s reactions to the memory. Julian was taking them in easier, processing what he saw. Maybe he could focus on the tattoos, find something familiar that might generate a lead.
A deep sigh escaped his lips as he welcomed the possibility of finding the guy who had caused so much damage. If they could catch this guy, Julian would be free to walk around without fear, without looking over his shoulder at every unexpected noise.
“Babe, you there?” Beckett’s voice held more concern this time. The seriousness in his tone made Julian pick up the phone.
“I’m here, but I made a mess. I gotta run downstairs,” he said, tucking the hem of his dress shirt inside his slacks. His emotions were all over the place. He’d careened from one extreme to the other in a span of minutes. His gaze landed on the whiskey bottle at the wet bar. He needed a fucking drink, and he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone right now. He wanted to go downstairs and lose himself to the relaxation of such a powerful release.