Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

He unclenched his fist and tapped beneath Sean’s chin. “Eyes up.”

Sean obeyed.

Max met his gaze. “You look amazing in my gift.”

Sean smiled. “Thank you, Maximus.”

“You’re welcome. You ready?”

Sean nodded.

“Good, boy.” Max ran his fingertips along Sean’s jaw. “Tonight you’re on the spanking bench. Tell me your safe words.”

Sean’s eyes glinted anxiously. “Red and yellow, Sir.”

“Good. Other than those, no talking unless addressed. If you do, I’ll have to muzzle you. Got a ball gag ready and waiting.”

Again, Sean nodded, holding Max’s gaze.

Max held them right back, heart rate climbing. “Do you consent to these plans?”

“Yes, Maximus.”

“Good. Do you relinquish all control?”

“Yes, Maximus.”

“Alright.” Max forced a little smile. “Let’s do this.”

And do this, they did, for nearly sixty minutes, with Sean strapped to that bench, prone and helpless. Max had unzipped the backside of Sean’s bodysuit first, which immediately exposed everything that counted. Next, he’d added a butt plug to the party, all smooth and black and vibrating. Not powerful enough to make Sean come, but definitely strong enough to keep his G stimulated. After that, though, it was nothing but ass cheeks and paddle, along with lots of intermittent breaks. During those periods, Max massaged Sean’s red glutes, then moved on to jack his gorgeous cock. Right to the brink, but never more, each time ending with Sean’s desperate plea to come.

It was a great little setup, the way Max had Sean situated. All limbs immobile, ass beautifully exposed, with the end of the bench keeping Sean’s dick down between his thighs. Rock fucking hard and pointed toward the floor, waiting—along with Sean’s nuts—for Max’s touch. Because, no, Max hadn’t neglected Sean’s sac, either. Had it bound nice and tight at the top. Fuck, the sight between Sean’s legs from behind. Mouthwatering didn’t begin to describe it.

But Max had kept that to himself, along with every other thought—which in turn, kept conversation non-existent. A few praises here and there, so Sean didn’t feel slighted, but other than that, they didn’t talk. Kudos to Sean for staying so quiet. Although, Max couldn’t help wondering if he’d behaved so well in the hopes of being rewarded. Not with an orgasm, though. Sean knew he’d be getting that. But maybe with another chance to talk. God knew, he wanted a conversation with Max badly. Bummer for him, ‘cause Max really fucking didn’t. He knew his limits and knew for sure that a chit-chat after their session would be too much. Especially when their scene had nearly done Max in.

It’d all been so tantalizing, every sound, every squirm. And then at the end, when Max resisted the urge to fuck him? Goddamn, that’d been harder than hell. Because Sean wanted his dick, Max knew he did. And Max definitely wanted Sean’s ass. But he’d known deep down that if he’d taken Sean again, while still in his unstable state of mind, Max would assuredly have another anxiety attack. Because nothing had changed in his head since Thursday. He was still trying to work that shit out.

So, against every urge of every fiber of his being, Max resorted to giving a handjob instead. Pumping Sean cock, while the heel of his other hand pushed in perfect unison against Sean’s plug. It’d certainly done the trick, despite Sean’s initial look of displeasure. Initial being the key word, since a few minutes later, he came harder than fuck in Max’s hand. Max had felt every pulse against his stroking palm, heard every spurt hit the floor. That and the intoxicating stream of gasps and moans tumbling non-stop from Sean’s mouth.

Hell, even now, as Max wrapped Sean in a blanket, he still burned to bury himself deep. Deep into Sean’s heaven. Into his warm, welcoming heat. A secret, sensual rendezvous between souls. Just like on Thursday, before he straight-up flipped out. God, their connection, it’d been so intense. All-encompassing in a way like never before. Raw and honest, a catapult to paradise.

And something that could never happen twice.

Which was why he abstained from having sex this time. But not just because he knew he’d ultimately snap, but because he suspected something deep inside would latch on to Sean and refuse to let go. Would fight to stay connected. Connected to Sean. In some fundamental—and formidable—way. A prospect that not only scared him shitless but also made him want to fucking beat something.

Pissed off at life, he led them to the couch. “Alright, Sean,” he muttered, grabbing his lotion. “Lie across my lap. Let’s fix you up.”

* *

Body still humming, head still spinning in bliss, Sean nodded and settled gingerly across Max’s thighs. That orgasm had been amazing, but this part of their session would forever be his very favorite part. He propped his upper chest on a couple of accent pillows, then rested his cheek on his hands and angled his head. So he could watch Max, of course, from the corner of his eye. A luxury Max had denied him all night. Sean regarded him discreetly. Tight jaw. Downcast eyes. But other than that, no expression. Damn it, what was his deal?