Boiling Point

Boiling Point - 1

Boiling Point

By Sean Michael

Author's Note: There is a myth that rubies will immediately boil water when they're dropped in. Chapter One Drake pulled up at Denny's house, grabbed the bottle of wine, and headed up the walk. He knocked smartly on the door. It had been a while since he'd hung out with Denny and Cain. He thought maybe Cain was scared of him. Denny and Cain had a much... softer relationship than the kind he indulged in. He knocked on again. The door opened, Cain's bald, pale head appearing in the crack, a gentle smile on his face. "Drake. You're here." Bald. Nice. Denny was upping the intensity. Drake liked it. "I am. Hi, Cain." "Hi. Come on in. Do you like steak? Denny is making steaks on the grill." "Denny always makes steaks." He always knew he'd get good, red meat when he ate with his friend. He handed over the bottle of red. "Thank you." The house was becoming more and more decorated, Cain's art prominently featured on the walls. He stopped at a new piece, examining it. Cain's work really was quite stunning. "It's the poster for the new movie. It's a fabulous piece of work." Boiling Point - 2

He looked over at the husky words. A lean blond stood there, dark circles under too-bright blue eyes framed with wire glasses. A cigarette was behind one ear, and ink stained the long fingers. He let his gaze drift from head to toe and back up again. "It's stunning." "It is." Tight jeans, a loose sweater, odd rope sandals -- this man screamed Bohemian. He turned back to Cain, offering another smile. "So, Denny's out in the back?" "He is. Come out and see him, and I'll open your wine to breathe. Would you like a beer?" "Yeah, that'd be great, Cain. Thanks." He headed out to the deck. "Drake. Good to see you, man." He nodded, grinned. "Denny. Smells like steak." "You know it." His old friend was looking good -muscled, solid, happy with the world. "How's it hanging?" "Good. You're looking very settled." Denny shrugged. "It's a good life. Cain's blossoming. You meet Jeren?" "The hungry blond? We weren't formally introduced." "Name's Jeren Mattheson. Works with Cain." "Looks like he needs a dozen of your steaks." Maybe two dozen. Of course, Jeren had looked hungry for more than just food. "He won't eat three bites of the one I give him." One of his eyebrows rose. That boy had been skinny with a capital S. Hungry in so many ways he couldn't even count. Denny shrugged, smiled. "He lives on nicotine, caffeine, and the periodic whiskey. Cain says he's brilliant." Boiling Point - 3

"Ah, yes, the crazy artist role." He grinned. He believed in order, discipline. Denny's look was pure wickedness. "Indeed. He's a firecracker." "Here is your beer, Drake. Love, would you like anything?" Little Cain came out, beaming at Denny. Very cute. Very sweet. Saccharine. And Denny was up to something, Drake could tell. Denny shook his head. "You two set the table. We'll be there in a minute." Cain nodded, headed in, ass swaying. "You're up to something, my friend." Drake wasn't one to pussyfoot around. "Just making food." Uh-huh. Right. Drake was going to beat the man's ass. "That's why you sent the boys back into the house." Denny lifted an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting I have an ulterior motive?" "I'm doing more than just suggesting it." Denny flipped a huge t-bone. "He needs help. You haven't had a boy in two years." "A set-up. You're setting me up." He was a little stunned at Denny's audacity. "Not at all. I simply put an opportunity in front of you." That was a set-up, right? "Semantics." Denny snorted. "It's not a fucking date, man. It's steak and a beer." "Uh-huh." He raised said beer. "To sneaky friends." "To grumpy assholes." Denny clinked glasses with him. "Butthead." He drank, though. "Jackass." Denny cackled. "Medium rare, right?" Boiling Point - 4

"Yes." Drake grinned, leaning back against the deck railing. Denny pulled the steaks off, then the corn. "How's the beer?" "I like this one. Better than that pale one you served me last time." "It's a microbrew from San Jose." "Well, it's good. I'll probably not have more than a couple, though. I'm gonna need my wits." He gave Denny a wink. "You think?" Denny handed him two plates and grabbed the other two. "Dinner's ready!" They set the plates on the table, but Cain and Jeren didn't appear. "That's not like your Cain." The boy was soft, but adored the fuck out of Denny. "They're in the studio room. I can guarantee it." Denny rolled his eyes and headed down the hallway, where there was music playing, a light on. When they peeked in, the two artists were leaning over a lighted table, pencils in hand, one bald head next to one messy blond mass. "Your steak is going to get cold," Drake growled out. Cain looked up, eyes huge. "Huh? Oh. Oh! Sorry. We were talking shop. Come on, Jeren. Food, huh? We can work on these later." Jeren barely looked up from the drawing table. "This stuff is great, Cain. You've got it." "You'll have to show me after dinner, Cain." Denny's words were pointed. Drake hid his grin in another sip of his beer and headed back to the kitchen, following Denny. Cain was now tucked under Denny's arm, smiling, relaxed. Honestly, they were sugary-sweet, those two. Drake waited 'til they were all sitting before digging in, Boiling Point - 5

nodding happily at the flavor. Denny did know how to grill a mean steak. Jeren ate about two bites, maybe, and a half bite of corn before leaning toward Cain. "I love the new plot line. Are you really going to have Neutron come out?" "I don't know. I mean..." "A gay comic book character?" Drake was pleased to hear it. "Good for you, Cain. There's precedents." Cain nodded, looked down, but Jeren caught his eyes again. "Don't be all modest, man. You're good. You have a following. Do what you have to. If he was my character, I'd..." Cain chuckled. "Kill him. You kill off all the good characters." "So you're a graphic artist as well, Jeren?" Now that he'd made good inroads on Denny's amazing steak, Drake could make conversation. "Yeah. I don't do superheroes. I do horror." "Oh, yeah?" Jeren nodded and Cain bounced. "Triple Z sold out its first run! He's amazing." Drake smiled. "You guys have a mutual admiration society going." Jeren shrugged, hid behind his hair, but Cain beamed. "I couldn't believe he'd actually talk to me." "It's always a boost when someone you admire loves your work, too, hmmm?" Cain was cute, but it was Jeren who held Drake's interest. Cain nodded and smiled. "His stuff is... I've never been that dark." Denny's murmured, 'thank God' was barely audible. Drake kept his lips from twitching. "Where does the darkness come from, Jeren?" Jeren shrugged again. "It's just me." Boiling Point - 6

"If you were mine, that hair would at the very least be tied back away from your face so you couldn't hide from me like that." Jeren blinked over at him. "What?" Cain moaned softly. "You heard me." Now that he had it, he held Jeren's gaze. "I'm not fucking Cain." Jeren looked at Cain. "No offense, man. You know I think you rock." Drake nodded. "No, you're not Cain. You'e much more hard core than Cain." Jeren snorted softly. "Well, I'm not yours. I don't belong to anybody." "You need to." It was a challenge, and Drake knew it. He meant it, too. Jeren needed a keeper in the worst way. "Bullshit." Jeren stood up. "Thanks for the steak, Den. I'm going to check those panels one more time before I go." He wasn't going to let Jeren just leave like that. "I bet you run away a lot." "I do what I have to." God, that rage and hunger were fascinating. He was going to have to pick up Jeren's comics, get a better insight into the man. "And right now that's run away." Time to up the ante a little. "Am I really that threatening?" Jeren stared at him but didn't say a word. The moment between them spread out and out, then ended with Jeren turning, leaving without anything else. "Oh." Cain sat there, eyes wide. He turned to Cain, raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry. He's not a bad guy. He's just... It's hard, working in your head all the time, and there was a big deadline and he hasn't slept in days. Let me talk to him." Boiling Point - 7

Drake patted Cain's hand. The last thing Jeren really needed was Cain being sweet and nice to him. "You stay with Denny and talk about shaving something. I'll go." "Are you..." Cain looked at Denny, at Drake, then nodded. "Okay." "Come sit with me, darlin'." Denny knew how to take care of Cain. The two of them would be lost in each other in seconds. That was a given. Drake chuckled and headed down the hall. He found Jeren in the studio, hanging half out the window, smoking, flipping through papers. Drake leaned against the door, watching. There was a bare tremble in the long fingers, the eyes suspiciously bright. "You're holding on by a thread." "What do you want, man?" "I don't know, Jeren. Before supper, I'd have said a nice steak, some good dessert. Now, I'm not so sure." "Cain bought cake. Go on and enjoy it." "Only if you come back with me." "I have to finish my cigarette, look at these panels. Then I can." He went over and took the panels from Jeren's fingers, looked through them. Dark, violent, intensely sexual -- this wasn't Cain's work. "You have a very different style." "I do." Jeren took a long drag from his smoke. "Filthy habit." He nodded to the cigarette. "That's what my mother told me." A long stream of smoke shot out the window. "She's right." He took the panels and put them on the table. "Put that out and come back to the table." Jeren sighed, took a long, long drag, then stubbed the cherry out on the bottom of his shoe. Boiling Point - 8

Drake followed Jeren back to the kitchen, groaning under his breath as he saw Denny and Cain feeding each other cake. "I'm going to go into sugar shock." "Just ignore them. They're stupid in love." Jeren headed for the coffee cup, poured himself a huge mug. "I'll have one of those." Stupid in love; a good description. It was cute when it wasn't nauseating. "Sure. How do you take it?" "I like it black." He wasn't one for a lot of extras. Jeren nodded, poured him a mug, and brought it over. "Thanks." Their fingers touched when he took the mug, a spark of static zapping him. Jeren's eyes met his, tongue flicking out to wet those lips. He thought the glasses made Jeren's eyes seem even bigger in his face. Drake held Jeren's gaze, that spark not nearly as strong as the metaphorical one that passed between them. The man would be an enormous challenge, but Drake could take him on. The look, the silence, the connection -- it went on and on. He didn't look away; this was far more telling than anything else. "I have to get out of here." Jeren was the one who broke, who looked away. "I got work to do. A story." "Sit and have dessert. Your friend bought it with you in mind." Drake didn't know that for sure, but he knew what kind of man Cain was, had seen how much the sweet sub admired Jeren. "Just one piece and I'll send the rest home with you." Cain smiled at Jeren, hopped up, and cut two slabs of chocolate cake. "I... One piece." Jeren chuckled softly, giving Cain what could only be called a fond look.

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Drake waited until Jeren had sat, then took the chair next to him, grabbing a fork. Denny gave him a knowing look, which he pretended not to see. Jeren was left-handed, and the man smelled like Ivory soap and ink and tobacco. Drake wanted to strip him down and get a good look at the lean lines, see what scents he could pick up beneath the soap. The icing was carefully peeled off, set aside, then the layers of the cake separated. Drake watched, fascinated by the almost OCD process. Jeren ate a bite of the cake, nodded. "It's good, thanks." "Are you saving the frosting for last?" He had to know. "Of course." Like everyone did. He'd bet there wasn't much Jeren did like everyone else, though. Grinning, Drake dug into his own dessert. Cain and Denny focused on each other, staying close, although Cain did manage to tease Jeren into a conversation about work. Those pale blue eyes kept flashing over to him, though. He didn't say anything with words, but he let his eyes meet Jeren's every time the man looked at him. Jeren's leg started bouncing, then he gave Cain a wry smile. "Gotta go smoke, work. Stuff. You know?" "Run away?" Drake suggested. Jeren flipped him off, almost casually. Drake laughed softly. Oh, Jeren would be so much fun to... not tame. Never tame. Discipline would probably be the best word. Jeren stood, kissed Cain's cheek. "I'll let myself out, kiddo." "I'll see you out." Drake stood. He got a curious look from Jeren, but Denny just waved, holding Cain close. Fucker. Drake had almost Boiling Point - 10

gotten away without getting caught up, too. Almost. It had been that spark that had started it. He refrained from giving Denny the finger and followed Jeren out, watching that ass as the man moved. God, it was tight, little, utterly fuckable. "I'll be fine getting home, man." "You driving?" Giving Jeren a lift would be as good a reason as any to spend some time. "Nah. I'll grab the Number Four at the corner." "Oh, I can give you a lift." He'd call out a goodbye and text Denny; the man would be more than pleased not to have had a proper goodbye under the circumstances. "No worry. There's no telling what will catch my eye on the way home, and I got my iPad for notes and company." "Suit yourself. Of course, something's already caught your eye." "Maybe. Don't suppose you'd sit for me? Just for a few minutes." "I could do that." It was a lot more than he'd expected -- an invitation into Jeren's space as well as more time with the man. Jeren was more interested than he was trying to let on. "Okay. You want to go back up and use Cain's space, or you want to see mine?" "I'd like to see yours." "My place is downtown, over the Cat's Club." "You live in your studio?" He put up a finger and called out "goodbye" to Denny and Cain, then followed Jeren out. "Yeah. Saves time and money." "And that way if you don't sleep for days, who's to know." He clicked the unlock button on his key fob. "Sleep is for the weak." Boiling Point - 11

Drake chuckled. "With the kind of work you do, I bet you have some wicked nightmares." "Sometimes. Nice car." Jeren slipped in. "Thanks." He had a new model, cherry-red Eclipse. Sporty without breaking the bank. It wasn't like you could drive two hundred miles an hour on the highway or anything. Jeren nodded, directing him deep into one of the skeezier parts of the city, the topless bar's neon sign blinking with a retro cat's face. "You don't find this too noisy an environment for working?" "I have earphones and an iPhone." Jeren pointed to a parking garage. "That's the safest place to park." "Cool." He went in, grabbing the ticket the machine dispensed. Jeren needed a new place to live. Somewhere quiet. Clean. Safe. Jeren slipped out when he parked, lit a cigarette. "Come on. Don't dawdle and don't talk to anyone, okay?" Oh, yeah. The man needed to move. At least he himself cut an imposing figure. He walked next to Jeren, putting on his best glower. The one that usually sent subs running. Jeren ignored the catcalls, the ugliness around him, and led him up a rickety set of stairs. "Seriously? You deal with this every day?" "Uh-huh. Come on up." Four huge locks were unlocked, a big iron door pushed open. The room was huge and white, sparsely furnished, but packed with art, art supplies, graphic novels, speakers. "Wow." This was a room with impact. And something you'd never guess was hiding up here. Boiling Point - 12

"Yeah. You can sit on the papasan. It's comfortable. Coffee? Beer?" The music came on, a driving beat filling the air and covering the noise from downstairs. "Water?" He was driving and probably shouldn't drink more beer. "Sure." Jeren dug into a tiny dorm fridge and tossed him a bottle of water before grabbing a beer for himself. Drake sat back in the papasan, checking the place out. The studio was bright -- walls and huge curtains a stark white. The artwork on the walls was all graphic and distressing, in different stages of completion, tacked in some order his mind couldn't quite follow. Jeren was the dark motion in the center, grabbing a pencil and a huge pad of paper that he propped on a light table. The pencil moved in a blur, the man nodding in time to the music, eyes moving over every single inch of him. He finally settled his gaze on Jeren, watching as the man worked. Jeren filled one sheet after another with one image after another. He was curious, but he didn't ask to see them. He could wait until Jeren was done. After about half an hour, Jeren looked up, eyes bright, almost fierce. "Thank you. You've got great lines." "How can you tell with all my clothes in the way?" "I'm an artist." Jeren licked his lips, though. "You willing to really pose for me?" "I am." He met Jeren's gaze, held it. The electricity between them was huge, wild, fierce. "Okay. When?" "Come home with me and you can do it tonight." He could get Jeren out of this place for a while. "What? Not here?" "What's wrong with my place?" Boiling Point - 13

"Nothing. I mean, I don't know anything about your place. I just... We're here." All right. He could work with that. Drake stood and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. Jeren stared, lips parted the barest bit. He moved slowly, letting Jeren look, anticipate. He was built, he knew it, but it was something new to be looked at like he was special. He shrugged the shirt off, let it drop to the floor. "You're ripped." "You like what you see?" Jeren nodded, licked his lips again. "You could be my next hero." "I could be your hero." He could turn Jeren's world inside out. "I'm already lost, but I swear to let you win out over evil in a book." "You're not lost forever." Jeren's eyes met his, the loss in them rocking him to the core. He went over and cupped Jeren's face. "I... I was drawing you." "You can draw me later." He leaned in and pressed their lips together. Jeren gasped, eyes flashing up to his, the shock evident behind the wire frames. He held Jeren's gaze and pushed his tongue into the man's mouth. Coffee. Cigarettes. Beer. Pain. Need. Hunger. He pushed deeper, eager for more of the true flavor of Jeren. Jeren's fingers wrapped around his waist, those lips opening wider. He slid his hands back, cupping Jeren's head. Under the messy hair, the man's skull was almost delicate, his hands surrounding it. He moaned softly, played Jeren's tongue with his own. He felt the kiss deep in his balls, heard Jeren's moan in his fucking soul. Oh, fuck yes. He let one hand slide down along Jeren's back, headed straight for that sweet little ass. His fingers Boiling Point - 14

brushed across something odd, stiff, and Jeren backed away, shook his head. "I was drawing you." "Not yet. What's under the t-shirt?" "I. Nothing. Nothing." Jeren kept backing away. "You weren't supposed to kiss me." "But I did." He took a few steps, closing the distance between them again. "Yeah. I. It was a bad idea." Jeren was breathing faster. "My kissing you?" He shook his head. "No, it was a very good idea." He got right into Jeren's space and cupped the man's head again, tilted it slightly back. "Please don't. I can't." "You can. You did." He leaned in and covered Jeren's lips again. He tried to bring their bodies together, but Jeren kept a hair's width of space between them. Growling a little, he moved forward, backing Jeren toward the wall. Jeren moved, tried to part their lips, but he wouldn't cooperate. He just kept backing Jeren up, knowing they'd eventually hit wall. Jeren's ass hit the wall first, which got him a quick armful of boy before Jeren tried to pull away. There was nowhere for Jeren to go, though, and Drake pressed his advantage, pushing up against Jeren. Long and lean -Jeren was covered by him, the man's midsection oddly hard, the barest bit unnatural. He slid his hand around Jeren's waist, thumb stroking the bottom of the hard bit. "Don't." A corset. That explained the tiny waist, the amazing way that ass was offered to the world. "No, you wore it for a reason. You wore it to look like you do. Don't deny it now." It was fascinating. Wonderful. Boiling Point - 15

"It's got nothing to do with anybody else." "I want to see it." More accurately, Drake wanted to see how it changed Jeren's body, the things it did to him. "Why? No. No, that stuff... it's just for me." He didn't let up, kept Jeren between himself and the wall and held those intense eyes. "You think you're the only kinky bastard in the room?" "I'm not like Cain." "You're nothing like Cain." Cain was sweet and adoring, easy and pliable. Cain was a summer's day. Jeren was a full on, category-five storm. "No." Jeren stared at him from behind the long hair. "I don't show anyone. This is private. If you hadn't kissed me, you wouldn't have known." "Why do you wear it?" "I need to." "Why?" He pressed Jeren for an answer. "Why does anybody need anything? Let me go. I like it, okay? I like the stuff I do. It helps things be better. Just go away." "No. I'm not going to do that. You're fascinating. I want to do stuff to you to make it even better than the corset ever can." There. He'd said it. He wasn't pussyfooting around. He wasn't the type to. "You don't understand..." "What don't I understand? You need someone to make you wear that corset, a plug, a cock ring, and nothing else. You need someone to tie you up and make you scream." Jeren stared at him, lips parted, head shaking. "You don't understand." He opened the tight jeans, exposing a pierced cock, the ring in the long shaft attached to a chain dangling from the black leather corset. "I'm not like Cain. I need more." Boiling Point - 16

Drake licked his lips and groaned happily. "You're the one who doesn't understand, Jeren. I'm not like Denny. I'm not like anyone you've ever met." He reached out and tugged hard on the chain. Jeren's body convulsed, spine arching, a look of shocked bliss on the drawn face. "You're not going to frighten me away with piercings and dark desires, Jeren. You're only going to make me want you more." He tugged again, then again, reaching back to push at Jeren's balls. His fingers found a heavy steel ring, a ladder of piercings. What other surprises did this beautiful man have for him? Even in BDSM circles, he tended to be more hard core than most men wanted. Here was a hardcore sub served up to him on a platter. He was going to have to buy Denny and Cain a gold-plated razor or something equally extravagant. "Fuck, I'd love to have watched these get done." "I did them myself." Drake was going to cream his jeans. "Even goddamn better." His voice was low, growly. He stroked the ladder, making sure to nudge each and every piercing. Jeren was panting, eyes sparkling, the look almost stoned. More. Drake wanted more from this amazing man. He grabbed hold of Jeren's balls and circled his hand around them, then tugged. Jeren groaned softly, went up on tiptoe, and rocked for him. He leaned in to whisper harshly into Jeren's ear. "Are your nipples pierced, too?" Jeren nodded, and he could hear the man panting. "Fuck. Strip. Now." He bit down hard on Jeren's earlobe and then took a step back, giving Jeren the barest amount of room in which to obey. Boiling Point - 17

Jeren pulled the loose t-shirt off, baring dark, hard nipples, both pierced, one with two rings in it. The corset was leather, tight, confining. Then the shoes and the jeans came off. Jesus fucking Christ, Jeren was a wet dream come to life. Drake's own nipples were hard and aching, his cock pushing hard enough against his zipper that he was sure he was straining the fabric. Those pale eyes were hidden behind the glasses, the long hair, shadowed. "You're stunning, Jeren. You don't need to hide from me. You don't need to hide from anyone." "I'm a freak." "My kind of freak. Hell, my freak." He stepped back into Jeren's personal space and grabbed a handful of hair, tugging Jeren's head back so he could devour the pretty mouth. Jeren cried out, the sound joyous, lips open for him. His free hand slipped down to cup that amazing ass, not at all surprised to find it plugged. Magic. This man was fucking magic. He jostled the plug as he plundered Jeren's mouth. Jeren rocked against him, cock captured between them, chained tight. He pressed his thigh between Jeren's legs, giving the man the rough denim of his jeans to rub against. Jeren groaned, moving faster, harder, driving against him. He kept his fingers tangled in the long hair, kept pulling that mass so that Jeren was open, exposed to him. He jostled the plug again, using Jeren's own movements to drive his fingers against the base. "Please." Jeren moaned the word, then tried to capture his tongue, suck on it. Boiling Point - 18

He turned the tables, getting the tip of Jeren's tongue into his mouth and sucking it in. He bit at it lightly, his fingers leaving Jeren's ass long enough to score the flesh at the base of Jeren's spine, right beneath the bottom edge of the corset. Heat splashed up against him, wetting his stomach, his jeans. Jeren never stopped moving, never let up. Perfect. "Fucking needy slut. Gonna do you so good." "Promise?" That was a direct, hungry challenge. "I fucking promise. I'm gonna turn you inside out and twist you into knots. Then I'm coming back for more." He hadn't met a challenge like Jeren in... maybe ever. "Then make me believe you." "I will."

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Chapter Two Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Jeren bit into the meat inside his bottom lip, his body fucking burning from the inside out. Nothing happened like this outside of his books. Nothing. But Drake was solid, real, not a vivid dream, because dreams didn't smell so hot or have bruising hands or do things he didn't expect. Dreams didn't have a big, hard bulge beneath their belts, burning against his belly, even through denim. The corset was pressing into him, the chain tugging lightly on his cock. So good. He pressed closer, let Drake feel him. Drake tugged on his hair and brought their mouths together again, the kiss hard and aggressive. So good. His hands landed on Drake's chest, fingers curling, nails testing the man's skin. Drake shifted, moving to the left so his hand drifted over one hard nipple. Taking the hint, he pinched, tugged the little bit of skin. Grunting, Drake pushed hard against him, thigh squishing his cock. The ache made his eyes cross. More. He wanted more, so he let his nails dig in, biting into Drake's skin. Drake bit his bottom lip, hard, and then reached between them to twist the two rings in his right nipple. The ache tore through him, his cock leaking again. He tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. "Get my pants off," Drake ordered. There was no question -- it was an order. "Say please." He ripped the fly open, needing to explore that fat cock.

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Drake's prick was thick and hard and hot enough to burn. "No, that's what you say when you beg me to let you suck it." His hands wrapped around the shaft, the thick flesh enough to make his eyes cross. "You want it, don't you?" That wasn't a question either. His answer was to stroke Drake's cock, thumbs working the tip. Drake pushed a thumb against his left nipple, pressing it against his chest, the ring digging into his flesh. His breath caught, eyes crossing. Was that good or not? Then the edge of Drake's nail caught his nipple, the sensation zinging straight through him. He jerked, ass working the heavy plug. The ring was tugged next, then Drake played with his ladder again. He kept jacking, using both hands, focusing on the sensitive tip. "I want your mouth." "Good." He slipped down the wall, lips surrounding the swollen head. "Fuck. Yes." Drake's fingers carded through his hair. He felt it tangle around those fingers, tug. Pull. "Take it, boy. Take it all." He opened up, slapped the fat cock with his tongue. "I'm surprised there's no tongue stud in there." "Nothing public." He took the heavy cock back in. Drake pushed deep. He groaned and tried to relax, to take it all. It had been a long time. He avoided complications. The solid thighs pulled back, taking the thick prick with them, then pushed forward again. He wrapped his hands around Drake's thighs, balancing himself.

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Drake tugged on his hair, pulling his head back a little and pushing deeper. His fingernails dug in, his lips tight around Drake's cock. "Yes." Derek sawed a little faster, a little harder. Jeren swallowed hard, pulling at the hot cock. Drake moved harder, faster, taking his mouth. His options were to relax or panic, and his balls made him relax, open, take it. "That's it. You know what you want." He could feel Drake getting harder on his tongue, against the back of his throat. It wouldn't be long now. He swallowed, over and over, throat closing around the tip of Drake's cock. "Oh, fuck!" Drake yanked hard on his hair and pushed in deep twice more before pulling out and coming on his face. He groaned, eyes closed behind his glasses, lips open. Drake left his prick sitting on Jeren's lower lip, fingers rubbing the come into his face. He slapped the tip gently with the tip of his tongue. Drake half groaned, half chuckled. "Who knew those clothes and that hair were hiding a treasure?" "Nobody." And no one else ever would. He didn't do this, let people in. "I think Denny and Cain had an idea." Drake kept touching his face, rubbing his cheeks, and tracing his lips. He shook his head, mind spinning. "Oh, they did. They didn't just randomly invite us to dinner on the same night." Drake grabbed his arms and tugged him up. The quick motion made him dizzy, and he had to trust that Drake would hold him up. The man did, almost carrying him over to the bed. Drake stripped him down first, Boiling Point - 22

taking off his glasses but leaving on the corset, and then got naked, too. The man's eyes roamed over him, the gaze like a physical touch. His hands didn't know where to go, what to hide on his lanky body. Then Drake spread his legs, moving between them. "These are fucking gorgeous. I can't believe you did them yourself." The strong fingers played with his ladder, with the ring in his prick. "I had to. I needed to feel it." The studs were pushed back and forth, tugged, Drake not appearing the least bit intimidated by the piercings or afraid to touch them. Drake tugged the little chain connecting his cock to his corset, and he arched. "You got a guiche?" Drake's fingers pushed behind his balls. He shook his head. "Can't see there. I have a clamp in my toy box." He had amazing things in his toy box. "I know a piercer I can trust to get it done." Drake's hands moved to his balls. "These need some decoration, too." "I don't go to piercers." His balls drew up tight. "I don't show anyone. I can't believe I showed you." "You wanted me to see. You knew, here," Drake tugged on his balls, "that I would know what to do with you." One leg bent, spread him wider. Yes. Drake leaned over, spread his cheeks to look at his hole. The bottom of the plug was pushed, then twisted. "How big is it?" "Big. I wanted to be able to focus." He filled himself every day, different plugs, different sizes. "Mmm. I want you to always wear one, always be ready for my cock." "Always..." He moaned, ass clenching again. Boiling Point - 23

"That's right. The only time you won't is after we've fucked." Like that wouldn't be the perfect time for one. "Or in the shower." He had luscious toys in the shower. One of Drake's eyebrows went up. "You think not?" He met Drake's eyes, challenging, excited. Hot. "You've got something better in the shower than plugs? You into being washed inside, boy?" His body jerked, hole burning, aching, alive. He didn't answer, though. That was private information. Drake's smile was knowing. "You don't have to say a word -- your body is speaking for you." "You don't know me." "No?" Drake pulled the plug halfway out, twisted it, and slammed it back in again. "Fuck!" His eyes rolled, hands flying up to grab his headboard. "I know the kinds of things you need. I know how to learn every inch of you." Drake slammed the plug back into him again. "Bastard." Oh, God. This couldn't be real. He had dreamed Drake up. That was the only explanation. "That's Master Bastard to you." The words came with another thrust of the plug. His legs pulled up, out, abs rolling as he fought to get more. "Look at you. What a slut." The plug slammed in again. "Sexy little pain slut." "Fuck. Fuck." He twisted, aching balls deep. More. He wanted more. He wanted Drake to show him things he didn't know. "You want my cock, boy?" Drake pushed the plug in again before he could answer. "Yes." Fuck, yes. Deep and hard. Boiling Point - 24

"Condom?" Another stroke pressed hard against his gland. He nodded. "I keep them for my toys." "Where?" Fuck, Drake could growl. "My toy box. I'll get them." "No." Drake's free hand landed on his chest, pushed him back against the mattress. "Tell me where." "I." He never told. Never showed that. Never. Drake simply growled. Jeren groaned, shaking. "It's a secret." "You aren't going to have any secrets from me, boy." That thought terrified him. Aroused him. "Where is it?" "You can't look in it." Drake twisted his nipple rings hard. "Where is it?" "Under the bed! You asshole!" Drake grinned and reached under the bed, tugging out his toy box. There was a lock -- one that Drake snapped with his fingers, making Jeren shudder with a perverse desire. Drake glanced over at him, then opened the box. Plugs. Sounds. Clamps. Rubbers. Cock rings. All his surprises. "Mmm. We can have so much fun." Drake grabbed the box of condoms, tossing it on the bed next to him. "Those are secrets." "I told you, you're not going to have secrets from me. Not for long." He reached for the box to close it. Drake's hand whipped out and grabbed his wrist. "Leave it." The fingers dug in, making his toes curl. "Put the condom on." He grabbed the rubbers with his free hand, fishing one out. Drake let go of his hand and moved onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. Boiling Point - 25

He was so nervous, so excited, he kept dropping the rubber, kept fumbling. He'd never -- not with a person. Assplay? Sure. Hours of it, but only alone. Only ever alone. Drake's hand covered his when he finally got the condom open. The man waited until he looked up into Drake's eyes. "Safeword?" "Spider." He hated spiders. "Okay. Go on." Drake let go of his hand and moved a little closer, knees hard against his inner thighs. He got the condom on Drake after two tries, smoothing the latex down. Drake leaned over him, stared down at him. "What's the story?" "Story?" He had thousands. Millions. It was who he was. "The nerves, Jeren. I know I'm not deflowering some virgin." He shrugged and went with the lie. "Too much coffee." Deflowering, no. Virgin, sort of. It was a thing. "I might just have to cut you off the caffeine, boy." Then Drake had his legs and pushed them back against his chest, exposing him. "Never happen." It was his life. His hole clenched, gripped the plug. "Mmmhmm." Drake's fingers dragged over his ass, latched on to the plug. His body held on, fighting Drake with all he was. Drake gave a lovely growl and changed tactics, twisting the plug inside him. He twisted, too, turning at the middle, the burn deep. Drake pushed the plug deeper, twisted it again, pushed. Then suddenly he yanked it out. Jeren gasped, empty, open, almost raw. Drake tossed the plug away and pushed two fingers into him. "Lube." Boiling Point - 26

He reached up, fingers scrabbling, finding a wellused tube of lube to pass down. Drake took the tube, that knowing look still in his eyes. Then those fingers disappeared, returning moments later, slick and cool. He fought the little gasp that wanted out. It was different than his fingers, better. The slick was spread around, quickly heating, then Drake added more, fingers stretching him, hitting his gland. "Oh. Oh!" His eyes rolled. So good. "Fuck, you're hot. And tight. Gonna feel so fucking good around my cock." All his body wanted to do was feel, so he squeezed, nodded, rocked. Drake's fingers soon disappeared, the man's eyes leaving his only for long enough to lube up the covered prick. His teeth sank into his bottom lip as he wanted, watched, so curious it hurt. "Ready or not, here I come." Drake's thick cockhead pressed against his hole, stretching it slowly. He closed his eyes, trying his damnedest to feel every second, to remember. To know. Drake felt enormous and hot as he pushed in, spreading Jeren wide. He gulped in air, the heat more than he'd imagined. "Oh, fuck." Drake kept pushing, kept filling him with more and more, the thick cock even bigger than he'd imagined. He grabbed Drake's shoulders, his abs clenching tight. Oh, God. Oh, God. Drake didn't stop until the man's hips were snugged up tight against his ass. He was so fucking full. Unbelievably so. "I never thought..." Oh, fuck. So real. Drake's prick began to slide out of him. His body clenched, fighting to keep that heat inside. It kept pulling out, though. Then, just before the head popped out, Drake pushed back in. He thought the oddest part was the inability to control the rhythm, then the heat. Boiling Point - 27

Drake pushed in again. Then again, a little harder each time. He gasped and felt, his body stretching, taking Drake in. "Fuck, you're tight." He nodded, fighting to breathe, to do this. It was more intimate than he'd thought. "And hot." The low growl settled right in his balls, Drake's gaze going straight to his gut. He couldn't hold the gaze, couldn't breathe. Drake growled when he looked away, putting more force behind the thrusts. "I. I..." He groaned, upper body curling up to touch. Drake wrapped a hand around his head and tugged him in closer, mouth taking his. He dove into the kiss, moaning, body working that heavy cock furiously. Drake bit his tongue, his lower lip, the stings sharp but good. His cock ached, tugged when he moved, when he arched too far. Over and over, Drake thrust into him, spread him, filled him, hit the pleasure spot inside him. His orgasm started building, bigger than anything he'd ever felt. Almost frightening. Then Drake tugged on the chain attached to his prick. He cried out, head slamming back, spunk shooting from him. "Yes! Fuck!" Drake slammed into him a few more times. He greyed out, shaking, shaken. When the world found color again, Drake was lying next to him, panting. He wasn't sure what happened next, what to do next. What to say. Fantasies were gone as soon as he came. Drake's hand landed on his belly, the warmth slowly seeping through his corset. He took one shaky breath after another. "Mmm. You're something else, Jeren." Boiling Point - 28

"You... Thank you." "You're quite the surprise. I can't wait to see what else you're hiding." He didn't know how to answer that, so he simply didn't.

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Chapter Three Drake was not in the habit of actually sleeping with the men he fucked. He preferred his own bed and he preferred not sharing it. When he woke the morning after dinner with Denny and Cain, he was not in his own bed and he wasn't alone. And he was hard pressed to be upset. Jeren wasn't just another man he'd fucked. Jeren was... something special. Jeren was curled into himself, the lean spine showing each vertebra. Drake reached out and slid his fingers along the sharp bones. Jeren shivered, frowned, then those pale blue eyes popped open. He looked down at Jeren, smiled. "Good morning." And it was. It was a glorious morning with a full day of potential for exploring, having wicked fun. "Morning. You want some coffee?" "We should take care of this first." He pressed his morning wood against Jeren's thigh as he grabbed hold of a matching hardness at Jeren's crotch. At some point in the night the chain had been removed, the corset, leaving only skin and rings. He stroked roughly, his fingers catching on the ladder and pulling, his thumb rubbing at the ring in the tip. It was heavy, smooth, slick against his thumb. He shifted them and began to rub his cock along Jeren's crack, enjoying the heat there and in his hand. The tiny hole was soft, swollen for him. He licked at Jeren's neck, found a good spot and bit down. Jeren's cry rang out, the man's hips jerking restlessly. "God, I haven't met a true pain slut in so long." Such a pretty one, too, lean and fine and desperate. He bit again, slightly to the right of the first mark, squeezing Jeren's cock hard as he did. He felt Jeren Boiling Point - 30

shudder, hands scrabbling along his sides. He loved how responsive Jeren was. He gripped Jeren's hair, pulled the man's chin up so he could take another bite. He took it, and then a hard, toothy kiss. His nails dragged over Jeren's belly, finding the little navel ring the corset had hidden from him last night. He tugged on it, twisted it. Jeren was like a rollercoaster -- you never knew what was around the next corner. It was fascinating -- no tattoos, but piercings; attitude, yet weirdly innocent. He pushed the tip of his prick against Jeren's hole, then slid it up along the man's crack. Jeren's ass muscles clenched, squeezed his cock. "You're not used to being empty, are you?" "I. What?" Jeren's chin ducked. He nudged Jeren's hole again. "Here. You're empty right now." "Yes. Yes." "You're used to being filled." It was beautifully perverse. "Not with a cock." "That's going to change." He nudged Jeren's hole with his prick again. That sweet ring of muscles kissed the tip of his cock. He groaned, pressed in a little harder. He needed a rubber, lube, but right now he wanted Jeren to feel him, ache for him. He pressed his thumb against Jeren's slit, the metal ring warm, hot. Jeren jerked. "Sore." He smiled. "Good, isn't it?" Jeren didn't answer, but the pointed chin dipped in a nod.

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"Sweet little pain slut." He pinched the tip of Jeren's cock and then leaned past the man to find the lube and the condoms. He noticed that Jeren didn't argue the point. God, he couldn't wait to explore this beautiful man's boundaries. He gave Jeren the lube. "Slick yourself up. I want to watch." Jeren slicked his fingers up, reached between his legs, and pushed two fingers in without fanfare. Drake's cock jerked. "Fuck. Three now." Another finger slipped in, just up to the second knuckle. "I love watching that." He smoothed the condom down over his prick as Jeren opened himself. That sweet, swollen little hole was stretched for him, shining, slick. He lubed up his own fingers, slipped one in with Jeren's. He pushed his in deep, spreading the ring of muscles wider. "So fucking hot. Tight. You're heaven around my cock." "Oh..." Jeren shivered, hole clenching. "Yeah, tight like that. Gonna fill you up." He tugged Jeren's fingers out and slipped in, the tight muscles clenching about halfway down his shaft. Groaning, he pushed in harder. Jeren scooted away and he grabbed the lean hips, kept his boy close. "You're not going anywhere." "No?" No. "No. Staying right here. Right on my cock." He pulled Jeren back hard. "Fuck..." Jeren jerked, cried out. "Oh, fuck." "That's right. Fuck." He picked up speed, working that fine ass. Jesus, he'd never had a slut so tight, so hot for it, so needy. "Tug your nipple rings, Jeren. Do it." Boiling Point - 32

He watched over Jeren's shoulder, watched those fingers pull and tug and stretch. He could feel each pull around his cock. "Harder." "What?" "Pull harder. Twist them." "Oh, fuck." Jeren's head fell forward, hair hiding those fingers. He growled, grabbing a handful of hair and tugging it back, hard. "Ow! Asshole!" That sweet ass convulsed around him. "No hiding." He growled the words out, tugged on Jeren's hair again. Jeren's hole milked him, proving how excited his slutty boy was. "Fuck you." "No, boy. Fuck you." "Not a boy." "No. Not a boy." He thrust in, smiled as Jeren cried out. "My boy." His bruises on those shoulders, his cock pushed deep. Him calling the fucking shots. He kept thrusting, kept knocking into Jeren's gland. He was going to keep this sweet ass plugged, going to make sure he was there for every orgasm. Going to make his boy fly. "You're mine. This is mine. Gonna keep you, boy." "Keep me?" Those muscles fluttered around his prick, hard enough to drive him crazy. "That's right, boy." He reached around and slid his hand up and down the bejewelled dick. Jeren started moaning, pushing back onto his cock, forward into his hand. "That's right, boy. Ride me." "Ride..." Jeren moved faster, driving onto him, offering him deep little cries. "Fuck. Yes." He nodded, shifted slightly so he was hitting Jeren's gland whenever Jeren took him deep. Boiling Point - 33

Finally Jeren kept him in, body rocking, rubbing him against that sweet spot. "Tight. Hot. Fuck. Good." He'd never had anyone like Jeren. Never. "I. You. I..." Jeren arched, ass slapping against him. "Us." He tugged on Jeren's Prince Albert. "Fuck!" Heat sprayed over his fingers, that ass milking his cock. Oh, he was going to get to punish his boy for coming without permission. First he was going to come, too. He thrust into Jeren, filling the boy over and over again. That sweet ass never stopped working him. Never. He let himself go, thrusting hard and coming. Jeren moaned, hot and damp and shuddering against him. He held Jeren close, panting against the man's neck. The scent of sex and need and pleasure filled the room. "Now that's how to wake up." Jeren nodded, body gripping him. Groaning, he played idly with the piercings on Jeren's cock. If Jeren had a guiche, he'd lock that pretty prick back to that ring, make sure Jeren remembered who had the key. It would be his first addition to Jeren's repertoire. "Gonna get you that guiche." He pushed his hand between Jeren's legs and pinched right where it would go. Jeren groaned. "No strangers. Nothing in public. It's a rule." "I know someone who will teach me." Big Ross would loan him the equipment as well. Jeren groaned, body shuddering again. "You. I'd let you." He nodded. He'd known that. Jeren was pure, gradeA pain slut, and he'd let Drake in. Boiling Point - 34

"You will let me." Jeren nodded. "Only you. I need." He knew what Jeren needed. "I've got what you need right here." In his hands, in his cock, in his mind. Now he had to decide whether to plug that sweet hole or to explore his options in the shower. He had the day off and he intended to play hard. "How about you show me this shower of yours?" "Mmmhmm." One long finger pointed to the only interior door in the place. He chuckled. "I meant show me as in take me there and give me detailed demonstrations of the toys you have." The muscles around him clenched so tight he couldn't breathe for a moment. "They're that good, are they?" "I. This. I can't believe I let you in." Hell, Jeren had invited him in. "You knew I could give you what you needed." "I couldn't have." "But you let me in. You invited me up. And we fit together like a key and lock. If that key and lock were into pain." Jeren moaned, but nodded. "I just need it. For me." "I like that you need it, Jeren. It makes you fascinating." He pulled out, smacked Jeren's ass. "Now, sweet slut, bathroom." He got rid of the condom and climbed out of the bed, stretching, letting Jeren have a full look. Jeren's eyes were like lasers. "I want to draw you some more." "After you show me what's so hot about your shower collection." "Hot?" Jeren led him to the closed door. Boiling Point - 35

"Hot. Exciting. You know, what is it about your shower that gets you worked up." "It's just... I. People don't usually do the things I do. I need more." "You might have noticed I do more, Jeren." Jeren opened the bathroom door, and the walls were covered in erotic art -- men being fucked, beaten, pierced, bound. Jesus. Drake's cock rose to half-mast. "Are these all yours?" Jeren nodded. "I don't let people come here." "I'm not people." He was Jeren's Dom. The bathroom had a single huge shower, a detachable shower head, and a line of different attachments hanging on hooks in the wall. "Oh, ho. Look at these." It was a stunning collection, actually. Jeren went to the shower, turned the water on, then turned the lights off, the room dimly lit through heavy window curtains. Drake stepped into water, searching through the attachments for the one he was going to use on Jeren this morning. There were thick dildos and thin, long ones. Steel and plastic cock-shaped ones. Simple tubes. He grabbed a steel cock-shaped one that was hollow with a hole at the tip. Jeren was studiously ignoring him, brushing his teeth, slipping into the water and grabbing the soap. He kept the attachment he had in his hand and moved over to Jeren, sliding the steel up along Jeren's spine. Jeren stilled, and he heard the soft gasp. So innocent to be so perverse. "I'm going to fill you with this and then fill you with water." He whispered the words into Jeren's ear. He thought his sweet slut stopped breathing. "I think I might Boiling Point - 36

like your shower perversions best of all." He tapped the penis against Jeren's ass. Jeren whimpered, stepped forward. "Hands on the tile, Jeren. And spread your legs." "I." Jeren shook his head, but reached out, spread. He smacked Jeren's ass experimentally. The pale skin pinked, barely. He smacked again, the other cheek this time. "I don't..." Jeren leaned, ass pushing toward his touch. "I think there's very little that you don't." He let the steel dildo smack that tight ass this time. Then he did it again, eyes on the way the penis shape appeared briefly on the lovely flesh. "How did you know?" He grinned. "That this is your favorite?" "That I was... fucked up like this." "You're not fucked up; you're just different from most people." He leaned in, pressing all along Jeren's back. "So am I." "How did you know?" "The same way you knew to invite me in." They were meant for this. "We're two of a kind, Jeren. A matched set." Jeren moaned for him, but he thought there was a nod there. "Do you... do you have someone else you're with?" "I wouldn't be here if I did, Jeren." "Good." There was a wealth of satisfaction in that single word. He didn't have to ask if Jeren had anyone -- the man did all this in private. He was beginning to think he was the only key to unlock all the pleasure inside his slutty boy. "Let's get this cock in you and do wicked things." Boiling Point - 37

Jeren nodded, head down between his spread hands. He found the lube on the shelf near the taps and he grabbed it, slicking his fingers before pushing them into Jeren's ass. That sweet little hole spasmed around his touch, Jeren's cry ringing out. "Just two, boy. You can more than take them." "Yeah. Yeah, I can." "Let's make it three." He pushed the third in with the first two. "Tender." Jeren pushed back. "And you love it." Jeren didn't answer, and he didn't expect it. It didn't matter. He knew he was right. He moved his fingers faster, harder. The sounds that filled the air were wild, filled with need, with shocked hunger. "Yeah. You could come from this, couldn't you? Just from the stretching. I'm going to let you. Then I'm going to play with this little attachment. Fill it with cold water, with hot, fill you with it." Then he'd clean his boy inside, out. Make every inch of this amazing man his. "Go on, Jeren. Do what comes naturally." He pushed his fingers in deep, pinging Jeren's gland. Jeren rode him like a champion pony, grunting and driving back on his fingers. Sweet little slut. He used the steel prick to spank Jeren's ass, letting the man's motions dictate the rhythm. "I... Oh, fuck..." He reached out, grabbed Jeren's wet hair, tugged that face up toward the water. "No hiding." Spunk sprayed from his boy, Jeren tight on his fingers. "That's it. You show me everything you are." Jeren made his mouth dry. Boiling Point - 38

He let his fingers fall away and tugged Jeren's head back even farther, taking a long kiss. That pretty mouth was open for him, lips dark and swollen. He dragged his teeth over Jeren's lower lip as he ended the kiss. Then he handed over the attachment he'd chosen. "Hook it up." Jeren's hands were shaking as the attachment was hooked to a secondary hose, screwed on. "This handle turns the water on to this hose. This closes the water inside." Jeren showed Drake a lever at the base of the dildo. "If you turn it, it opens the hole in the tip." So he could make it cold without flooding Jeren with cold water. Or hot for that matter. "Excellent. This is top of the line stuff." "I tried all the cheap things. They break." "Nothing that goes into your ass should be cheap." That was a good way to get hurt, and not in the fun, deliberate way. Jeren nodded, ass pink and round, muscles clenching. Drake pressed the head of the penis attachment against Jeren's lips. "Open up." "What?" Jeren's eyes went wide, lips parting instinctively. "Yeah, just like that." He pressed the tip of the penisshaped attachment intoJeren's lips. He loved that shocked, half-worried, half-aroused look. He loved that'd he'd done something to truly surprise Jeren. "Suck it, boy." Those pretty lips closed around the metal and he started fucking Jeren's mouth. It was obscene. And the sexiest thing he'd seen in a long time. His cock rubbed against Jeren's ass, hand driving the dildo in and out of that hungry mouth. It made him fucking want that mouth for himself. His cock was nice and hard, sliding on the wet, slick skin. He pushed the fake cock in deeper, watching as the Boiling Point - 39

steel spread Jeren's lips. Jeren grabbed his arm, fingers digging in. "You want me to stop?" Jeren stilled, lips spread wide, but the man's head shook in a no. "Good boy." He moved the attachment faster, pushing it in a little deeper. The fingers stayed on his arm, Jeren beginning to shiver. God, the contradictions were stunning. He sawed his hips at the same speed as he pushed the cock into Jeren's mouth. Jeren moaned for him, nails on his skin. He pushed the prick in even deeper. He felt Jeren swallow, gag, then back away, into him. "I know you can take it." Jeren groaned, panting for him. "That's it, boy." He moved the cock faster, really giving it to Jeren. Jeren was pressed against him, pushing into him. "Such a good boy." He let the steel penis slide from Jeren's mouth. Jeren took one hitching breath after another, back sliding on his chest. "Well done. Now we get to really play with this thing." "Th... I... Thanks." He chuckled and spanked Jeren's ass. "Okay, boy. Hold on to the tiles and spread again." Jeren reached out, slowly pulling away from him. He ran his hand down Jeren's spine, over the lovely ass, and encouraged Jeren to spread his legs. The man's waist was defined from the corset training, the sweet ass delectable. He spread the cheeks apart, looking at that swollen, well-fucked hole. His. He stroked his finger over, let his nail scrape, just a little. Jeren's asscheeks clenched, denying him entrance. Boiling Point - 40

Growling, he slapped Jeren's ass with the steel cock. Jeren jerked, a dull flush covering the man's back. "Let me in." "You scratched me." "I did. And you loved it. You love the pain, the unexpected spark." Jeren's head ducked again, shoulders shrugging. He put his hand in the small of Jeren's back and rubbed the head of the steel penis against Jeren's hole this time. The metal would be cool against that blazing hot skin. He pressed, stretching Jeren's hole but not pushing into it. It would be a tease, not to mention he wouldn't put it in without lubing it up first. Jeren's moan bounced off the tile. He grabbed the slick on one of the little shelves and applied some to his fingers one-handed. His bite marks were dark on the pale skin, shining. He didn't warn Jeren that his fingers were coming, just pushed two into the tight, swollen heat. Jeren grunted, stepped forward, barely holding on. "I said hands on the tile, boy." Still, when he slid his fingers away, he made sure the steel attachment was lubed and then wrapped his free arm around Jeren's waist. "Sorry. You surprised me." "Good." He wanted to keep Jeren on his toes. He had a hunch the man could get bored very easily. Bored. Distracted. Lost. It wasn't going to happen with him. He was going to keep his boy caught. He put the slick head of the fake prick against Jeren's ass. "Take it in, boy." Jeren's fingers curled, body moving to take the metal in, the move steady. "That's fucking stunning." "Me?" "Yes. You." Boiling Point - 41

Jeren swallowed, muscles tensing, body moving on the dildo. "Yeah, fucking stunning." He reached and turned on the cold water to fill the steel, cool it down. Jeren stilled almost immediately, muscles in the long arms jerking and tensing. He had the hole at the top closed; the cold water would only fill the penis, make the steel cold. Soft gasps filled the air, Jeren working the prick inside him. It was fascinating, arousing. "It's cold." "For now." He would drain it and refill with warm water. Jeren kept moving, restless, sliding on the cock, taking it deeper. He pushed forward the next time Jeren moved back, sending it even deeper. He tightened his arm as Jeren tried to pull away. "Where do you think you're going, boy?" "I don't know!" Good. He had Jeren's full attention, had his boy offcenter. "What do you want from me?" His answer to that was simple. "Everything." Jeren jerked, hips driving between them. "Yeah, like that." He let Jeren fuck himself a few more times, and then turned the nozzle so the attachment would drain. "I... The hot water... if it's too hot with the metal." "I know, boy. Warm, not hot. I won't burn you." "Thank you." Jeren relaxed, and Drake wasn't sure if it was fascinating or wrong that the man trusted him so soon. He put his hand around the tubing, held on as he turned the water to warm. Jeren rested against his arm, giving him the barest bit of pressure. "I'm opening the tip." Boiling Point - 42

"O...oh." He saw the man nod, wet hair moving. He pushed the toggle to open the tip and slowed the flow of water to little more than a trickle. "I've never let..." Jeren turned his head, silenced himself with his arm. "Tell me." Jeren tensed, breath speeding. "I said tell me. Don't make me say it again." "I just-- I don't. Not with anyone else. I never." "No. Only me." The words shot out of him. Jeren was his, and if anyone ever touched his boy... Jeren nodded. "I'm a very private person." "And mine, boy. Private and mine." Jeren groaned, but the nod was almost immediate. "Getting full yet, boy?" He slid a hand over Jeren's belly, rubbing. He didn't know how quickly the hollow plug let the water flow. The slender belly was beginning to push out, muscles tight. "Do you do this a lot?" If Jeren filled himself often, he'd be able to hold more. Jeren's only answer was a nod. "Then you can have a bit more." This answer was a soft little moan, the sweetest shiver. He kept rubbing Jeren's belly, feeling it, attuned to each change. The second it felt like Jeren was beginning to strain, he turned off the flow of water. Jeren panted, shuddering against him, hands sliding on the tile. "I have you." He left the plug in. For now. "I... I have to..." "You have to hold it in, because there's nowhere for it to go." Jeren tried to step away, but his arm was there, keeping Jeren where he wanted. "Now I'm going to take the plug out, but you need to hold on to the water." Boiling Point - 43

They were going to see how good Jeren's control was. And if it wasn't very good, then he'd get to punish his boy. "I. You have to go. Let me." "No. Hold on for another minute." Jeren gulped and nodded. "Then you have to go." "No." "Yes." Oh, an argument. "I'm not going anywhere." He patted Jeren's belly. The touch made Jeren groan, try to pull away again. He held firm, though, keeping Jeren there for another minute. "I have to get out!" "Yeah, I guess you can do it now." He let go of Jeren and stepped to the side. He was not leaving the bathroom, though. Jeren carefully moved out of the tub. "Go away, please." "Nope, not happening." He wouldn't make Jeren do things in public, but the man wasn't hiding from him. Not for a second. "I have to..." Jeren tensed as a cramp hit him. "I know what you have to do. So do it." "Go away." "I'm not going anywhere, boy. Get used to it." He didn't have to do anything else but wait Jeren out. And wait Jeren out he did. When his boy was finished, he held one hand out. Jeren glanced at him from behind that wet hair, biting his bottom lip. He let a growl loose in the back of his throat. The sound had Jeren moving, breathing hard, coming close enough to almost grab. He flicked his fingers, telling Jeren to come on. Jeren took another step, another, just on the other side of the tub. Drake waited, confident he was a big enough Boiling Point - 44

draw that Jeren would come right to him. Sure enough, his boy's need, that hunger, brought his boy into his arms. He wrapped his arms around Jeren's back, holding him close, letting the shower wash over them. Jeren was stiff for a long moment, then melted against him, drawing in one long, hitching breath after another. "There you go, boy." He held on, letting Jeren learn this -- having him here for the comfort after the pushing, after the pain. Jeren didn't have to be alone -- wasn't alone. Jeren eased, swaying against him, lips against his throat. He stroked his hand along Jeren's back, letting his boy enjoy the space, the peace. Jeren's cheek was soft, hot against his shoulder, the man's cock quiet, resting against his thigh. It was a beautiful thing, to hit this place with a sub. Had Jeren ever found it before? Drake had the sneaking suspicion Jeren hadn't ever not been alone, hadn't been allowed to fly. It was a shame, but he was here now. He would take his boy to new heights. It was going to be fun. It was going to be intense. It was going to be like nothing either of them had ever experienced before.

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Chapter Four Jeren looked at his phone. He wasn't sure whether to call Drake or not. The day they'd spent together had been amazing, stunning. He'd flown. But it had ended that afternoon, both of them having real lives, the real world. Jeren had drawn Drake over and over, making the man a Native American hero, starting a whole new piece. Really, he needed to rest now. He wanted to talk to Drake, though. His cell rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He frowned, looked at it. Grant. Should he answer? Did he want to? He didn't really want to talk to anyone but Drake. He didn't want to see anyone but Drake. He put the phone down, let his publicist leave a message, and went back to drawing Drake. The man was a stud. And Drake seemed to know exactly what he needed. It unnerved him, excited him. He'd spent time trying to figure out why he'd trusted Drake, and part of him was convinced it was because of Cain. Cain was his friend, and Jeren trusted the man. A bigger part of him believed Drake was just... right. Asshole. Someone banged on his door. He frowned, grabbed his bat, and peeked out the peephole. Drake stood there, looking extremely studly in a tight white t-shirt and a tight pair of jeans. Jeren started unlocking locks -- one, two, three, four - then opened the door. "Drake." Drake smiled. "Jeren, glad to see you're alive after all." "I am. I've been working." Jacking off. Drawing. Thinking. Boiling Point - 46

"And not answering your phone." Drake nodded toward the apartment behind him. "Can I come in?" "Sure." It wasn't safe out there. Drake came in, brushing against Jeren as he went by. "I was hoping you'd call me." "I thought about it. I just..." He shrugged. "Things were intense. I was working. I thought you might need space." "I like intense. I like you." The words made him smile, made him blush and duck behind his hair. "Do you want a beer?" "I want that sweet mouth first." He met Drake's eyes, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Oh, God. So hot. "Come here." "Oh." Fuck. He stepped closer, body on fire. Drake's hand went behind his head, tilted it, and then Drake's mouth covered his, the kiss commanding, making him want to beg, even if he didn't know what for. Jeren opened, body rubbing along Drake's, cock achingly hard. "I love the way you're so hot for it. Such a needy little pain slut." Those words made his belly tight, made his balls clench. Drake's hand landed on his ass, fingers pushing at his crack through his pants. His ass clenched. He hadn't been out, hadn't been playing since Drake left. He felt weirdly naked. One of Drake's eyebrows went up and he pulled away from the kiss. "Not filled today?" "I was working." And, if he was honest, defying Drake, just a bit. He'd known Drake wanted him filled, liked it, so he was... testing. This amazing growl came out of Drake. "I told you you'd always be filled." Boiling Point - 47

"You weren't here. I was working." He wanted to just lean back, show his belly. Beg. "You'll have to be punished." "We weren't together." "So?" Drake had his hand and dragged him toward the bed. "So, we... I mean, you weren't here. We weren't..." He had been busy jacking himself off, over and over. "You had one in when we met, so don't try to tell me you weren't wearing one because I wasn't here." "No. I wasn't working. It wasn't a big deal. What do you care about what I do when you're gone?" "Because you're my pain slut. And you do what I say." Oh, fuck. Jeren's knees went weak. Drake began pulling his clothing off. "What... What are you?" He was in sweats, casual, easy, simple. "Your Master." He was naked before he stopped gasping. Drake reached out and twisted his left nipple ring. "Ouch!" Fuck, that was good. Chuckling, Drake twisted the other one. He pulled away, covered his nipples. "Those are mine." "No, they're mine. So is this." Drake reached down and tugged on his Prince Albert. He jerked, the tip red, a little raw from his wanking. Drake looked down, fingers manipulating the ring and the tip. He groaned, toes curling as Drake touched him, pushed him. "So sensitive today." He nodded. Chafed was the word Drake was looking for. "Naughty, naughty boy." Boiling Point - 48

The words were little jolts of electricity, exciting him, making his skin goosepimple. Drake pressed his thumb against Jeren's slit, pushing, the jolt turning into a burning ache. All he could do was grunt, spine arching at the pressure. "You're going to suck me, and then I'm going to open that treasure chest under your bed." He nodded. God, yes. Yes. He wanted Drake's cock, wanted to feel. Drake took another kiss, tongue fucking his mouth like Drake owned it. Drake's hands were in his hair, tugging, pulling. His bottom lip was bitten, and then Drake pulled their mouths apart. "On your knees, boy." He knelt easily, back sliding along the edge of mattress. "Open my jeans with your mouth." "Suck in." He grabbed the tab and tugged, yanked the button open. Drake sucked in, the amazing abs rippling. His lips brushed over the tight skin, then he went back to opening the denim. Drake gave a small moan, hand sliding through his hair, tugging it for a moment. He groaned, easing the zipper down. He could smell Drake -- male and strong and so right. He could feel the heat of the man. His mouth was watering, and he licked Drake's cock through the silky boxers. Drake groaned for him, the sound hungry. Drake's fingers landed on his shoulders, digging in. He used his teeth a little bit, just enough to sting. Fingernails pressed into his skin. He eased up in response, backed off. Drake backed off a little, too, but not entirely, the little crescent-moon stings sparking through him.

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He looked up at Drake, cheek sliding against the covered cock. Drake groaned, eyes on his face, intense. He rubbed, tongue sliding, slipping. "You have a wicked mouth, boy." What was he supposed to say to that? How was he supposed to respond? Drake chuckled. "Go ahead and use it." He reached up, slipped the elastic waistband down as he dragged his tongue over the tip of Drake's fat cock. Drake's groan was music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted Drake to need it. One of Drake's hands moved from his shoulder to his head, but it didn't guide him. At least not yet. The hot flesh was salty and male, the hint of soap barely there. Clean and good, the strong scent only made him want more. He nibbled on the tip, tongue pressing into the slit, then traced the heavy ridge around the head. That earned him another one of Drake's groans, this one longer, more drawn out. He thought about his cock, about how it had ached after he'd pierced the tip, how he'd been out of his mind with it. Drake pushed deeper into his mouth, cock sliding over his tongue. He grabbed Drake's legs, balancing himself, head bobbing, taking Drake in. Hips moving slowly, Drake worked with him, filling his mouth over and over. They found a solid, good rhythm, both of them rocking, letting it build. "Fucking great mouth, boy." His fingers dragged over Drake's legs in thanks. Grunting, Drake moved faster, the thick cock pushing deeper. He tried to take it all, backing away when he couldn't. "Make me come, boy. He nodded, groaned, trying to do this, to take Drake in. Boiling Point - 50

"Fuck, you're a pretty little pain slut." God, the things Drake said. He felt the man's cock swelling even harder, Drake's orgasm clearly imminent. Drake pushed in deep, and he gasped for air, tried his best. As he swallowed around the head, Drake shouted and pulled out hard, come splashing over his face. Jeren gasped, heart pounding as he swayed. "Mmm." Drake rubbed the come into his face with the thick cock. He licked the shaft as it passed, the scent of Drake everywhere. A low, rumbling sound came from Drake's chest as one hand wrapped around his arm and hauled him up. Drake's kiss took command of his mouth again. He leaned into the arm around his back, opened up. "Gonna fill you up and then turn your ass into a piece of art." He wasn't sure he even knew what that entailed, but he was up for it. Drake kissed him again, then pulled back. "Strip. I'm going to check out your toy box." He stepped back, slipped out of his sweats. He had been working, damn it. Despite Drake saying he was going to check out the box under his bed, Jeren could definitely feel the man's eyes on him, watching, looking. He knew he was skinny, weird-looking. He knew. Drake reached out with one hand, ran it along his spine, down his crack. The step forward was instinctive, as was the shiver. "Mmm. Let's see. Oh, a vibrating plug. I think we can have some fun with this." He groaned softly, balls actually aching. "You're not wearing the corset today." "I was working." Boiling Point - 51

The vibrating plug landed on the bed, as did his little riding crop. He shuddered, bit his bottom lip. "I don't like to get ink on them." "That makes sense. You're not working now." "What... what's your favorite color?" He had lots. "Blue." Drake began to strip. He went to his dresser, found a long-line corset, steelboned, with china silk. He wiggled into it, the fabric going from his nipples to the top of his cock. Almost. Drake made a noise: part groan, part moan, all want. "Does it have a chain for your penis piercing?" "Not this one. It's so long." He turned around, offered Drake his laces. The man's fingers were warm, lingering on his skin before they started to lace up the corset. The coolness of the fabric disappeared quickly, his body beginning to heat. Drake pulled the laces very tight. He tried to hold his breath, keep some room in the corset, but he had to let the air out, and Drake felt it, tightened again. When it was done, Drake traced the edges. It tingled, the leather digging in, surrounding him, supporting him. Restraining him. Drake pinched his ass. "Stunning." He stumbled forward, that sting making his cock jerk. Drake grabbed him and tugged him back against the hot, strong body. His bare legs and shoulders felt Drake's heat; the corset felt cooler. Drake's hands ran down his arms, the man's nose buried in his neck. "You smell good." "Thank you, Sir." He was glad, so glad Drake was here. Drake's tongue worked the skin of his neck, and then the man's teeth came out. Drake's hand was on his hip, Boiling Point - 52

keeping him there, keeping him close. Suction and biting drew up heat. There would be a mark. "You'll leave a hickey." People might see. "That's the point." "I don't do public things." He began to pant, caught between arousal and worry. "I am the one marking you, not you." A desperate little sound left him, his cock aching, swollen. The hand on his hip tightened its grip, Drake's other hand sliding from the top of his corset on down along his belly. Those teeth kept working him, biting at him, marking him. Drake slowly let go of his skin, blew on it. All he could do was gasp, breathe, body vibrating. Drake tilted his head, mouth covering his. His lips felt swollen, heavy, and it was easy to open up and give Drake what he wanted. Drake's tongue slid into his mouth, bringing heat and wet and the taste of Drake. He tried to catch his breath, the corset pressing into him, leaving him gasping. Drake deepened the kiss, hand splayed across his belly. The room started to spin a bit, his need sudden, sharp. Drake lowered him to the bed, laying him out and following him down. He wrapped his arms around Drake's shoulders, drawing the man into another kiss. Drake gave it to him, kissing him like it was the most important thing in the world. His tender cock rubbed against Drake's skin, the tip aching. Drake caught his tongue and started sucking on it. His fingers dug into Drake's shoulders, holding on, trying not to shake apart. One of Drake's fingers found his nipple, rolling it, scraping it with the nail. The rings squeezed and he jerked, trying to pull away, trying to press closer. "Pretty little pain slut." His teeth sank into his bottom lip, biting hard. Boiling Point - 53

Drake growled and tugged at his lip. "That's my job." "M...my lip." The burn buzzed down through his belly. "Mine now. All of you is mine." He was going to come just from the heartfelt words. Drake bit down on his lower lip and tugged hard on it. He jerked, body rubbing hard, the steel boning digging into his sides. They rolled on his bed, Drake winding up on top again, pushing down against him. It was difficult to take a deep breath, and that made it wilder, harsher. Better. Both sets of nipples rings were twisted, Drake not the least bit afraid to hurt, to make him really feel it. He leaned in, bit Drake's shoulder. Ouch. Drake growled and twisted the rings harder. He bit harder, those sounds fascinating. Drake nipped at his jaw, that growl sounding again. "Oh." He gasped, mouth open on Drake's skin. "Mmm. Yes." Drake's hand slid over the corset to his prick, finding the ring embedded in the tip. "Tender." It was. He'd jacked himself stupid. Drake's hand dropped, sliding around his cock, stimulating the ladder. "Fuck." His eyes crossed, the pressure just right. "No, I'm going to play with the vibrating plug first." Right. Plug, then... art with his ass. Drake gave him another kiss, hand still working on his prick, playing with the ladder. Drake was better at that than he was. "Love these," growled Drake, pushing one of the posts back and forth through his skin. "You make them sing." Okay, that was stupid. True, but stupid.

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Drake gave him a happy sound at his words, though. His balls drew up, his body beginning to ache, to demand orgasm. "No coming, sweet little pain slut." Drake tugged on one of his nipples rings. "Not yet." "Oh, fuck." He twisted, caught. "You wait until I say you're allowed." He groaned, the order turning him on. That hand played with his ladder, Drake's other hand moving to tweak his nipple rings, both sets of sensations settling in his balls. "You'll make me shoot." "Hold it or you'll get punished." "You already said you'd do that for jacking off." "So if you come, you'll be in for a lot of punishment." He shook his head. Moaned. Shuddered. "I know you love it." Drake reached back and pressed on the skin behind his balls. His legs drew up, hips bucking, driving up into the air. "I've researched how to do this, boy. I've had a piercer show me." Drake's fingers dragged along that spot again. Oh, God. Oh, God. Fuck yes. Please. "I brought the stuff with me." Drake's fingernails scraped. He shot so hard his bones rattled. "Oh, but I'm going to make you wait for it, boy." Drake pressed his fingers along Jeren's skin again, making his cock jerk. He whimpered, groaned softly, riding his orgasm. It seemed to go on and on, Drake stimulating that strip of skin the entire time. The punishment would be worth it for this pleasure. "You came." Drake sounded pleased rather than pissed off. "You made me." Boiling Point - 55

"Yes. And now my sweet pain slut and I get to explore punishments." Drake flicked one of his nipple rings. Jeren thought Drake didn't have to sound so excited about it. "Let's get this vibrating plug into you." He spread, the corset holding his torso. "Fuck, just look at that." Drake lubed up his fingers and pushed two into his ass. His hands slid down the corset, framing his waist. Drake's gaze was like another touch. The man made him feel almost lovely. Almost. Drake pushed in another finger and found his prostate, bumping up against it again and again. His eyes rolled back, the pressure inside him growing. "I think you're just about ready." Drake's fingers hit that magical spot one more time and then disappeared altogether. A whimper left him, soft and desperate. "Easy, boy. The plug is coming. The vibrating one." He wanted. He wanted more. Drake picked up the plug and showed it to him. Then Drake brought it up to his lips, just like Drake had done with the shower toy. His eyes went wide, but he opened, whining softly. Drake slipped the plug past his lips and pushed it into his mouth. His hands came up, grabbed Drake's wrists. Drake stilled, one eyebrow going up. He moaned his apology. He hadn't even thought about it. Drake looked at him a moment longer, then began to fuck his mouth with the plug, slowly pushing it a few inches deep before pulling it out again. The plug was wider, splitting his lips. Drake moved it faster, fucking his mouth with it. He couldn't help his moans, how his legs shifted. Boiling Point - 56

"Your hole is going to be filled with this in a moment. It's going to fill you right up." God, he hoped so. Drake fucked his mouth for a few more moments, then ran a hand along his ladder. His hips rolled, the touch unexpected. "No more coming without permission." Drake stroked his ladder again. His eyes rolled back in his head as his balls drew tight. Drake patted his belly and then tugged on the plug, pulling it out of his mouth with a loud popping sound. Jeren wasn't sure what to do, how to please, or not, or what. Drake quickly lubed up the plug and pressed it against his hole. "Take it in, boy." He squeezed his eyes shut, bore down on the plug. "Look at me," growled Drake. "Why?" His eyes popped open. "Because you can't hide from me when you're looking at me." Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Jeren moaned, body pulling the plug in. "That's right. I know how much you love it;" Drake helped the plug with the last inch, pushing it hard against his prostate. "Please." He didn't know what he was begging for. "I won't leave you hanging, boy." Drake settled the plug and then began to play with the dials on the remote. When the first wave of vibrations started, Jeren almost came off the mattress. "That's the lowest setting." "No... no way." It was never that intense when he was doing it. Drake turned the vibrations up. Jeren cried out, pulled away, whimpering for him. Boiling Point - 57

"See? It was on the lowest setting." The vibrations increased a bit more, then backed down, some. He tried to catch his breath, the corset holding him tight. "Maybe next time you'll believe me instead of questioning me." "I... I've used it. You made it different." "You mean it being me made it different." "Yes." Yes, exactly. Drake made it all new. "I'll make everything different, boy. Everything." "Oh, God." Everything. "That's right, boy." He moaned, fingers digging into his hips. Drake grabbed his hands and pulled them up over his head. "You have rope in that treasure chest of yours?" "What would I do with rope?" "You never did any of this with anyone before me, did you?" "I never did anything with someone else." His eyes went wide as his secret just... slipped out. Drake stopped for a moment, stared down at him, and then smiled. "Good." The word was fierce. Oh. Oh, God. He could breathe. He could. In. Out. Drake's hand landed on his belly, stroked him through the corset. "I just... this is mine. My secret." Except it wasn't still. Drake shook his head. "No. It's ours." "Ours." He met Drake's eyes, moaned low. "That's right." Drake squeezed his wrists until it was almost painful. He twisted in the man's hands. His fur-lined cuffs were soft, gentle. Not like this. "Struggle as much as you want, I'm not letting you go." Boiling Point - 58

Jeren thought that he might just scream with his sheer, unadulterated fucking joy. Drake bent, pressed their mouths together. Between that, the vibrations in his ass, and the tight fingers around his wrists, he was in heaven. He arched, pulled against the grip, pushed against Drake's body, caught in the pure pleasure. Drake's kiss grew teeth, the stings on his lips ratcheting everything up another notch. "Sir..." He was burning, so lost in pleasure that he didn't know what to do. "Fucking love that," Drake told him, backing off enough to smile down at him. The heat in Drake's eyes was going to burn him up. So he twisted, confessed -- confessed his need, confessed how he'd tugged off, over and over, dreaming of Drake's hands. Drake groaned and took his mouth again, tongue pushing in. Jeren gave himself over, moaning and whimpering, lips parted to let Drake in deep. Drake tongue-fucked his mouth, the vibrations in his ass varying in speed. His cock started to ache, his ball sac tight. Drake smiled, the look wicked. "No more coming." "I." He was so close. "Unless you enjoy the punishment too much." "I can't think. Fuck." "Thinking's not the point. Feeling is." "Good. I can. I can do that." Drake smiled and turned up the vibrations. "Oh!" He twisted, turning over almost before Drake caught him and spun him back. "No hiding." "Stop it!" He had to. "No! You're not hiding from me. That's not how this works." Drake leaned over him until their faces were inches apart. Then he twisted the right nipple rings. Boiling Point - 59

"Fuck! Fuck!" Jeren screamed the word, furious and rejoicing at the same second. Drake's prick lay against his own, hot and hard and perfect, sliding, and Drake rocked over him and tugged the nipple rings thing time. "You bastard!" He was halfway in love. More than. Drake only smiled into his eyes and slid a hand down the corset, fingers finding and tugging the ring in his prick. "What do you want?" Was he supposed to come? Not? "To put my mark on you. Not just your skin, on your mind and your heart and your soul." His cheeks were on fire. On fire. Drake held his gaze and rubbed their cheeks together, one side and then the other. He moaned, deep and low and rough. "Want to fuck you. I want to redden your ass first and then take you hard." He nodded. "Anything." As scary as it was, it was true. Drake nodded. "Good." It was sealed with a kiss. The hands at his wrists never faltered, still holding him. Drake reached with his other hand, something rattling a little. He would have looked, would have been curious, but that mouth... His cuffs were soft, fur-lined, but it was shocking to suddenly have them around his wrists. He twisted, the fur caressing him, stroking his wrists. Drake pulled him by the arms up the bed, looping the cuffs over the bedpost. He arched, testing the bonds. "You're not going anywhere." Drake sounded very confident. Fuck, this was wild. The vibrations were still making his ass sing. He started to shiver, legs kicking idly. The vibrations were Boiling Point - 60

turned down. Not off, but down. Oh, better. He could breathe. Drake's eyes narrowed. "I'm turning you now. Knees up, ass in the air." "'Kay." He nodded, fingers curling into fists. Drake helped him move, helped him get his knees up under his belly. His glasses were gently removed, set aside, and he squeezed his eyes closed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Drake's hands slid over his ass, pushed the plug in slightly deeper. He rocked forward, then back, moaning at the pressure. The vibrations were turned slightly up again. "I'm starting." Jeren pulled into himself as much as he could, holding his breath. Drake's hand landed on one ass cheek, the sound of it louder than the pain. The second blow was harder, the heat beginning to spread, and Jeren let himself breathe. Yes. Yes, so good. Drake got a rhythm going, hitting one cheek twice and then the other. Each blow built on the last. The heat was lovely, building around him so perfectly. "Fucking gorgeous ass, boy." He moaned in response, loving the steady blows, the attention. The vibrations of the plug changed, began to pulse instead of being steady, and Drake matched his blows to it. "Oh, God. Please. Please." "This time you're allowed to come." Like he could stop it. The blows grew harder, Drake's hand hotter than fire. So good. God, he wanted this, needed it. His entire ass was burning, aching, the pain so good, so perfect. He wanted it to stay just like this, just here.

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On the next hit, the edge of Drake's little fingers just barely touched his balls. Spunk shot from him, pouring out of the tip of his cock. "Mmm." One more blow hit his ass right across his hole, and then both of Drake's hands covered his ass, rubbing. He sobbed, but it was pure pleasure, happiness. The vibrations went full for about five seconds, turning his sob into a shout, and then they slowly faded into nothing. He stayed there, sucking in desperate little breaths. "Such a sexy pain slut. You turn me on so much." "I need you." It was the truth. He'd never needed anything like this. "Good. I want you to. I need you to." Drake's fingers played with the base of the plug and then tugged, pulling it slowly out. His body shuddered, goose bumps covering him as he was emptied. Drake placed a kiss on his hole. He cried out, jerked forward. "Empty." "Not for long, boy. This is mine." One finger pushed into him with the words. "I." Oh, God. Yes. Yes. Drake moaned and another finger pushed into him, this one cool and slick with gel. He pushed back, eyes rolling, his ass on fire. "Yes. God. Sexy. Sexy." Drake's fingers sank in deep, stimulating his super-sensitized skin. He could feel the muscles in his ass clenching, working, pushing against Drake's touch. A third finger pushed in, spreading him wide. That was a lot, made him groan. "Gonna fuck you so good." Boiling Point - 62

He nodded, hair falling on his hands. Drake's fingers disappeared, and he was turned, Drake's hands settling him on his back. He hissed as his ass landed on the bed. Drake rolled him, putting his feet on the man's shoulders and taking his ass partly off the bed. The brush of Drake's thighs on his ass was so good. The hair was rough against his burning, sensitive butt. Drake pressed the covered cock against his hole. Jeren grabbed the headboard, pushed himself closer. "Pushy, pushy." "Isn't that what you want?" Drake chuckled. "Yeah, I like it when you push." "Okay." That's what he'd thought. "Speaking of pushing." Drake pushed his cock in. Jeren groaned and nodded, body holding on tight. Drake pushed all the way in, until the man's hips were snugged up tight against his burning ass. Jeren gulped in air, hands opening and closing. "Ready?" Drake asked, staring into him. He couldn't answer, so he nodded. Drake began to fuck him, taking long, hard thrusts. Jeren let his eyes close, focused on moving, on meeting each thrust. "No, look at me!" Drake slowed his movements as he said the words. Jeren groaned, fighting to open his eyes. It wasn't fair. Not at all. The thrusts were barely-there movements now, Drake's hands wrapping tightly around his hips to keep from speeding them up himself. "Drake. Drake, fuck. You're teasing." "You keep your eyes open and I'll keep fucking." "They are..." Fucker. "They are now. Keep them open. There's no hiding from me." On the last word, Drake thrust in hard. Boiling Point - 63

"Drake!" He barked out the name, hips jerking. Drake nodded, thrust in again. His body was screaming, begging, flying. Drake shifted and thrust, then shifted and thrust again, banging his gland this time. His breath caught in his throat, hips stilling as the world caught on fire. "Ah, perfect." Drake stayed right there, hitting his gland with each and every thrust. His ass was going to catch on fire. On fire. Fuck. Drake's gaze held him right there as the man's thick cock kept pushing into him over and over. His eyes rolled back, his hips punching up. "Yeah. Fuck." Drake kept moving into him, filling him up like nothing ever had. His legs wrapped around Drake, dragging him in tighter, closer. Grunting, Drake kept pushing into him, kept hitting that spot that lit up his whole body every single time. He might have come, he might not have. It didn't matter. It went on and on, Drake's staying power amazing. The room greyed out at the edges, everything beginning to spin. That's when Drake tweaked his right nipple rings, the pain sudden and sharp and bright. He screamed, his control shattered, spunk spraying out of him. "Fuck. Jeren!" Drake humped him hard for several more thrusts and then froze, cock pulsing in his sensitive ass. He hung there, panting harshly, tears streaking his cheeks. Drake collapsed onto him, panting just as hard as he was. Jeren couldn't think, couldn't move, so he didn't bother. Drake pulled out and dealt with the condom, then came to lie beside him. He looked over, searching the man's face. Boiling Point - 64

Drake met his gaze and smiled. "We're good for each other." All he could do was nod. Drake touched his cheek, then leaned in and pressed their mouths together. It was like Drake was welcoming him home.

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Epilogue Drake rang the doorbell at Denny and Cain's place, bottle of wine in hand. The follow-up visit. He'd been invited for dinner -again -- Denny all casual about how he and Jeren had seemed to hit it off, so they were both invited -- again. Nosy fuckers. Drake had failed to enlighten his old friend that this would not be the first time he'd seen Jeren since the last dinner; he thought it would be more fun to surprise their friends. He'd seen Jeren a dozen times in the last month. Hell, he'd taken the man back to his place, finally, kept him there for three days, worshipping that amazing body, Jeren's untapped need. Cain opened the door and Drake grinned, offering over the bottle of wine. "We return to the scene of the crime." He couldn't help teasing. "Drake!" Cain smiled at him. "Come in. Jeren and I were looking at some of his new boards." "Yeah? Good stuff?" He knew Cain and Jeren were good friends and championed each other's art fiercely. "I think so. A new superhero. Denny? Drake is here." "You're not out back cooking steaks tonight?" He grinned and shook Denny's hand as the man came down the hall. "Nope. Cain is in charge of supper tonight, and it smells really good." Drake nodded -- it did. "Lasagne. I made it from scratch." Cain looked so pleased. "Then my red is a perfect match." Cain beamed at him. "Jeren's on the back porch having a cigarette, if you want to say hi." Boiling Point - 66

"I do. Did he bring dessert?" Jeren had said something about picking up cookies or something that he knew Cain was particularly fond of. "Oh, he got me those whoopee pie cookies. I love them!" "Sounds very sweet." Which would be perfect for Cain. Denny chuckled at his words. Cain nodded, beamed. "Denny, come help me make salad?" "Sure thing, darlin'." Drake left them at the kitchen, eager to go out and give Jeren a proper hello. They hadn't seen each other since yesterday morning. Jeren was perched carefully on the porch step, smoking. The long hair was pulled back in a braid, exposing the lean face. That was one of his rules -always plugged, hair back, no masturbation. He hummed as he drew nearer, imagining just how badly Jeren wanted it right now after thirty-six hours or so without coming. "Hey." Jeren's eyes were glimmering, shining, desperation on the man's face. Jeren needed him. It was a good look. "You put that thing out and you can have a kiss." Jeren didn't even argue; the butt smashed out. Drake braced himself against the deck railing and held out his arms. Jeren flew into them. "Sir." It made him hard, that single word from Jeren. He brought their mouths together, taking a hard, toothy kiss. Jeren cried out, body rubbing furiously against his, prick steely and heated. "You'd better not come in your pants," he warned. "Asshole." The term was fond, warm, Jeren pushing. Boiling Point - 67

"I could decide not to let you come until the morning." "It's been days." That rule was the hardest one for Jeren. "I know." He kissed the top of Jeren's head and glanced back at the house, chuckling at the twin looks of shock on Denny and Cain's faces. "After we have dinner with our friends." "I." Jeren ducked his head, trying to hide his face with hair that was pulled back. "No, no hiding." Those eyes met his, framed by Jeren's wire-rimmed glasses. "Drake. We should go in." "We should. I'm sure there's some gloating coming our way." He took Jeren's hand and they turned to face Denny and Cain together. "Of course not." Cain's eyes were huge. "Supper's, uh, ready." He chuckled and patted Cain's cheek. "Don't look so surprised -- you set us up, after all." Denny chuckled. "Excellent. Come in, eat. We'll... talk." "Uh-oh." He winked at Jeren and led his lover in. End

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher. Boiling Point BIRTHSTONES An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers PO Box 2545 Round Rock, TX 78680 Copyright © 2011 by Sean Michael Cover illustration by Alessia Brio Published with permission ISBN: 978-1-61040-2260-6 www.torquerepress.com All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. First Torquere Press Printing: July 2011 Printed in the USA

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