Becoming His Slave (71 page)

“I want to apologize.” Diesel mumbled indirectly to Paris.

“For what?” Paris only half registered what he said, already his mind was on the bulge of steel in Diesel’s pants and he rubbed his head against it like a cat in heat.

“For what I’m about to do.” And he brought the tequila to Paris’ lips and pushed his head back to take the shot.

Paris gulped it down, but hell he didn’t need apologies. If Diesel was finaly going to take him to his bed then he was more than happy to follow orders. Anticipation had his lust firing off like Fourth of July and his already erect cock was throbbing.

“I want you—” he breathed, pressing into his thigh again, “You don’t have to apologize. I want this too. You’re not taking advantage of me I promise.”

By the time Diesel was leading them to the elevator, Paris was feeling unnaturally groggy and tired, but he had not forgotten the touch Diesel had allowed him, nor did his cock as they made it to the room. Diesel spun him around and had him pressed against the wall, his mouth claiming his in a deep heated kiss. His lips covered Paris’ with all that he had been holding back. His tongue pushed in like a ferocious animal, crude and demanding. It wasn’t a gentle romantic kiss, but rather filled Paris with fire and lava. His arms surrounding Paris in a powerful embrace. Locking him in his arms.

Like a fracture in a dam, first just a trickle of lust, but it only took a moment for the dam to burst inside of Paris when the sensation washed over his body and jerked his awareness into the kiss and into the man delivering it and his whole body burst. Arms coiled around Diesel, locking him against his body just as Diesel had already locked onto him. This wasn’t teasing, this was taking. His mouth opened further taking in and giving more of his kiss and hunger into his master, this man he burned for.

Paris’ kiss was succulent, warm pliable lips pressed into his. His tongue soft and demanding as he coiled with Diesel’s own, licking and being licked. Fully open to him like no man he’d ever kissed. Diesel wanted to feel more of Paris wanted to experience his body being completely open to him like his kiss. His hands shifted one firmly grasped the back of Paris’ head while his other roamed up his chest finding its way under his shirt to touch raw skin.

“Ah yes—” Paris broke loose only long enough to hiss encouragement, “Fuck yes.” His hand finding Diesels and locked into it following it as it stroked over his chest and his abdomen. “Oh god I’ve been dying to feel you touch me.” He growled before his kiss returned and deepened still.

Diesel began sliding him against the wall toward the bed till there was no more free space to slide against then pulled him up and steered him toward the bed walking him backwards while their bodies remained pressed into each other, “Open your kilt for me Paris, let me hold your cock in my hands.”

Paris didn’t hesitate his hands rushing to the front zipper of his man skirt unhooked the three belts they had him in, unzipped and pressed his kilt open pulling his cock out and quickly guided Diesel’s hand to it. Not once breaking their kiss. Afraid that once he did, he’d never get it back. But Diesel didn’t kiss him like it was just a brief preliminary ritual; he kissed like he planned on staying awhile. The kiss was the meal anything else was a garnishment. And while Paris was reveling in it, he wanted the whole five course meal.

Paris’ head was spinning despite the fact it was also getting super heavy. He was beyond keeping his eyes open and flat out gave up, but rational thought was leaving him too. He had no clue as to why he was so tired. Diesel had only given him one shot of tequila. Surely he was not being pitched into a
zone
state like they had done to Katianna earlier. It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t at all submitting right now unless you call surrendering to the most awesome desire and lust you can fathom.

Once they were on the bed he’d be okay and he could focus on other things like getting a hold of Diesel cock next. He couldn’t wait to see it, the way it felt grinding against him right now so fucking hard like iron. He had to be hung like a god. It was going to hurt like hell taking him inside, but he wasn't about to let a little fear of pain stop him right now. He wanted Diesel, wanted him in every way. Surging waves of greedy lust pulsed through, firing off in his loins, in the hard shaft his master stroked steadily now.

He felt the bed under him suddenly.
Fuck how did they get to the bed already?

“Damn it Diesel I wanna touch you.” Even the words were hard to say as if they too weighted several pounds on his tongue. He couldn't even lift his arms any more, but he was certain they were still wrapped around Diesel's waist. His tongue kissing him deeply. God he could never get enough of this man’s kiss. He wondered if a man could cum from a kiss alone. Didn’t matter if it were, if their kiss didn’t get him off, the long firm twists of Diesel’s hand on his shaft sure as hell was.

“Please let me touch you. Let me feel your cock in my hands. I wanna taste you.” He tried lifting up to look, but he couldn’t get his head off the mattress. His hands fumbled for the zipper he’d had open once before find the hard turgid flesh waiting for him. “Oh god Diesel.”

Diesel dropped his hips grinding into Paris then took both their cocks ion his fist and stroked them together.

Paris pitched his head back into the bed, “Oh god I want to fuck you.” he moaned.

“You can’t.” Diesel groaned as he felt he rising pitch of his release pushing for their surface just watching Paris melting under him while he continued to pump their shafts together. Damn he’d rather be inside the man. Feel his tight ass wrapped around his cock. But he’d never let Paris go back to the island not after what he saw downstairs. And he knew Paris wasn’t the type to come back.

Paris tossed his head, licking his lips in a needy frenzy. “Why?" His focus going, a single word question was all he could manage—drifting away—

“Because this isn’t real. I’m only a dream.” Diesel’s voice whispered into the kiss.

“No.” Paris tried to protest, hands catching on to keep Diesel from pulling away. “That’s not true. You want me.” He gasped—
damn so close
. “I know you want me—just as I want you.” His breathing more ragged—
oh god
—he could feel it pulsing its way through his nerves, building into sensitive flesh. He licked at his lips, pressing his hips up to meet deeper thrusts in Diesel’s fist. “You want what we can have together.” So incredible, to have wanted for so long.
Oh god
—his body was on fire, swirling like a spiraling demon. That phenomenal surging convection in your loins just seconds before it fires out.

“You’re just afraid I’ll hurt yo—
ahhhh!
” Paris didn’t get the chance to finish, his head kicked back, letting his body explode with the undeniable pleasure he was having. His muscles tensed, bunching as his hips thrust upwards. Diesel’s hand shifting to a near messaging roll pumping out their seed as he came along side of Paris. Thick streams if white spunk covered his grip and splashed out over Paris’ chest.

Diesel dropped down on an elbow along side of Paris body a moment letting the aftershocks subside. Watching the beautiful man rode out the release.

“That’s because you will.” Diesel whispered in his ear as the moans of Paris’ release sent him into sweet oblivion.

Paris’ body shuttered, a role of tension passed through his body, his neck curled then his shoulders, his back, then his hips—had Diesel looked he was certain Paris’ toes did the same. Another shiver and a last sputter of frothy cream from his cock spilled over Diesel’s hand.

“Oh god—that was good.” Paris hummed falling completely limp into the bed underneath him, his head falling to the side, eyes closed. He was instantly drifting away.

Diesel stayed with him a long moment, allowing himself a torturous moment to have the man against him. It was wrong and he knew it. Paris was more than willing to lay against his body. But Paris was a
love ‘em and leave ‘em
guy. While he himself was the
love ‘em and keep ‘em if he could
type. Paris had all the qualities of an adventuress lover. He was a vivacious brat with a lot of spunk and lust. Diesel knew he could satisfy the man’s hunger, fulfill his needs and knew Paris would do the same for him. He was certain in every way Paris was a sexual match for him the only drawback was Paris left a linage of heartbroken empty beds in his wake and Diesel didn’t want to be one of them.

But that the hunky imp had brought him over the line of self control he felt cornered and the only way out was to put his pet to sleep. “I’m sorry Paris.” He kissed the sleeping man’s temple then got up to fetch a wash cloth from the bathroom to clean the fallen angel up.

“He’s falling for you, you know.”

Diesel glanced up to see his brother hovering at the doorway between their rooms. “He’s not falling for me. He just thinks he is, because I’m able to make him submit and feel things he’d never felt before. He’s no more falling in love with me then he is for you and you know it.”

Trenton was leaning against the door jam; a glass of white tequila on the rocks in his hand. He was staring at his drink for a long moment stirring the ice around with a finger then took a chilled sip, “I think you’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong, so stop please. He leaves in a week.” Diesel huffed allowing too much limelight to his emotions on the matter.

“He can always come back. His position doesn’t require him to be a full time resident on the island.”

“Stop. This can’t happen.” He reached over touching Paris cheek, then straightened his hair with is finger tips. It was messed up again and still he hadn’t earned it according to
Paris’ rules
.

Trenton shrugged “Well at least give yourself the pleasure of enjoying him while he’s here. To have a lover however brief that can handle you? You don’t have to deny yourself that part. And for the record, I’m rubbing your nose in it like you asked.”

Diesel looked down at the man as he finished cleaning him up and tucking him under the covers. He let out a hard sigh. “Damage done. I already knocked him out.”

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

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Paris was less than happy with Diesel the following morning, his emotions skulking half way between pissed and pouting. A bad habit he was picking up from Katianna no doubt. Diesel had to laugh, because it was actually working on him as he tried to console Paris. He reached in to touch Paris as he showered, but Paris slapped his hand away.

“Don’t do that again.” Diesel warned him.

“You drugged me—how am I suppose to act?”

“I apologized for it before I ever did it.”

“I thought you were apologizing because you felt like you were going to take advantage of me. And don’t try to tell me you didn’t know that that was what I was thinking.”

“I did realize that. But I had to.” He reached for Paris again.

Paris twisted out of his reach this time, turning his back to Diesel and dropped his head under the running water as if it were a way to drown him out. “Don’t touch me right now.”

“Look I know you’re mad—”

“Mad?” He snapped around to glare at him, “Dammit Diesel you drugged me! If you didn’t really want me all you had to do is tell me nothing was going to happen between us. You didn’t have to lead me on just to fink me out with a
doppy
false memory.” He turned his back to him again.

“But something did happen—you came in my hands.”

“Great, I’ll be sure to mark that in my diary as soon as I can remember.”

Diesel realized there was no talking him out of this right now. He was fully fledged into his pouting and he had every right to be. To argue the point would just prolong the amount of time it would take him to get over it. “Come out when you’re ready, and I’ll have some breakfast brought up for you.”

Paris watched silent as Diesel let him be. He stared at the door a long moment then slid down to the tile floor in the shower, elbows to his knees and his face firmly planted in his hands. He hurt. He had no idea why. His head felt heavy form the drug but he knew that wasn’t it. He’d done his fair share of experimenting when he was in college, so the fact he got fucked up last night wasn’t what caused his pain right now. Diesel led him on to think he wanted him only to dope him out on drugs and left him think something happened. That really hurt, but mostly, just knowing Diesel didn’t want him when he wanted Diesel in a way he couldn’t fathom, his whole body ached for the man beyond sex—or so he thought that might be the issue. He really wasn’t sure. He’d never loved any one. Oh sure—his mom, his dad, his
mémé
, a best friend, but he’d never fallen
in
love with a lover, never even stayed with one for very long. He hadn’t even been in Diesel’s bed yet so how could this be love?

So what was it about Diesel? Chances were it was only because he’d denied him, the
un-getable-get
—surely that was why he was so drawn to the man. That had to be it.

But since when does not getting something you lust after make your head and heart hurt?
The left side of his brain urged him to explore this feeling further.

When you get drugged
—
it’s called a hangover
. The right side of his brain told him to get real.

Paris pushed back up to his feet, forcing himself to get back to his shower. He’d been in there for half an hour already and he hadn’t even washed his hair yet.

Yet all he could think about was he didn’t believe any of the lies he’d just told himself.

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The first part of the afternoon Trenton mingled among his guests keeping Katianna and Paris with him most of the time, while Marcena and Rachel had been allowed to join Fambleush and his wife Chemène during the event. Freeing up some of the burden to tend to his own slaves. After lunch, the moment everyone had been waiting on, began.