Falling Bundle (5 page)

So hot. So slick. So tight. Clenching deliciously around the invasion. Max shoved him down into the covers and pinned him harder, drawing the tiniest whimper. Arjen shuddered under him, his breathing quick and shallow, eyes still shut; his desperation was intoxicating.

Max couldn’t catch his breath, could barely get out words. He was so deep in him, squeezed so tight. “All right?”

Arjen was clearly beyond speech. Beyond everything. Max began to rock into him steadily, dragging more of those sweet little sounds out of him. The sheer perfection of this moment made Max possessive; he wanted to keep him like this forever, cover him with his body and shield him from the world. Max dipped his head to bite down on that vulnerable throat again, enjoying Arjen’s stifled gasp, the salt taste of his skin, the frantic pulse under his mouth. “Good?”

“Oh.” Arjen strained against his grip.

“Course it’s good,” Max growled in his ear, voice low and hot and rough, the words running away from him because he couldn’t think any more. “You like being held down. Stuffed. Filled.” He could have stayed here forever, just braced over his body, driving into him with slow remorseless strokes, but he wanted to feel Arjen come apart underneath him. Max fisted a hand in his hair and started pounding him harder, forcing desperate sounds out of him, pinning him hot and helpless under him. “You’re mine, you belong to me, you—”

Arjen strangled off a scream as he came. His body clenched with delicious force around Max’s invasion. And Max finished in him with a rush of pure triumph, each thrust pumping deep into his body, claiming him as his own.

Victory tasted like the salt on Arjen’s skin, sounded like his gasps, felt like the flutter of his pulse and the shudder of his body.

Afterward Arjen trembled under him. Seeing him so utterly defenceless made a strange warm feeling uncurl in Max, something like protectiveness. Arjen was smaller, that was all, no match for Max’s size and strength. He must be very shaken. So it was okay to want to shelter him.

Max slid down a little further into bed, curling around him, settled Arjen securely against him. Arjen did not resist. “There,” Max whispered against his cheek. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Silence ruled for a long time. Arjen hid his face in his shoulder, and Max let him, just stroking his hair. Finally Arjen snuggled deeper into the curve of his body. It felt good having him so warm, so trusting. So close.

“How was that? Good?” Max held his breath.

“Mm.” Arjen’s blissful smile told Max exactly how good it had been. Success.

“You did well. Really well.” Max stroked his bare shoulder, the nape of his neck, the edge of his jaw. Max bent to steal a kiss from him. If he played his cards right, maybe he could keep this one. Just for a little while. “How do you feel?” Max wanted to know.

“Happy.” Arjen just kept smiling.

Max felt extremely smug. He kissed him again, lazily. “Tired?”

“Exhausted.” Arjen stretched delightfully against him.

Max slid a hand up his inner thigh; Arjen caught his breath. “Think you can come for me again tonight, sweetling?” He slipped him a finger; Arjen tightened around him with a groan. “Because I’m going to want you again… and again… and again.”

It turned out that with plenty of persuasion, Max could wring another shattering climax out of him. Max thought this might be even sweeter than the last, not only because of the straining shuddering arch of Arjen’s body beneath his, the scrabble of Arjen’s fingers in the sheets, but because of the delicious sound Arjen made as he clenched tight and came, something like a sob.

In the sweet panting afterglow Max let him rest while he could. He was pliant in Max’s arms, clearly too exhausted to stir an inch. Max dropped a kiss on the top of his head. He wanted to tell Arjen again how good he’d been, how obedient, how much Max liked him, but the words piled up and choked him. There was too much to say.

He shifted against Arjen’s warm body, making himself comfortable, and Arjen whispered in a sleep-rough voice, “Don’t go.”

Max froze. His throat tightened with a sudden surge of some nameless, inexplicable feeling. He was beginning to realise that this was the edge of danger; there was a long way to fall.

He had never had somebody to come home to. He had been kicked out of home at a young age; he had fucked plenty of people, but never wanted to keep them around. So he could not understand this tightness in his throat that he couldn’t swallow away. This tender urge that made him stroke Arjen’s bare shoulder, trying to soothe him into sleep. And for a forbidden moment he dared to wonder what it would be like if Arjen was his.

He wrapped himself tight around Arjen, giving in to every jealous possessive urge. Just for tonight, he could let himself believe that Arjen belonged to him.

Max woke to a warm glow of contentment. The window above his head framed a square of bright sky. Sunlight spilled gold across the rumpled covers of his bed, and Arjen was fast asleep in his arms.

He stayed perfectly still, afraid to move, afraid even to breathe. Because the strange feeling flooding him might be happiness. He could not remember the last time he had woken up happy, and if he moved an inch, surely it would wink out into nothing.

Arjen stirred sleepily in his arms. Max froze, holding his breath. Arjen snuggled closer, a warm weight against him, and went back to sleep.

In the hazy light of morning Arjen looked so peaceful, so sweet. His dark hair was finger-ruffled, his closed eyes in shadow. His lashes lay along his cheekbones. Max dared to kiss his cheek, and Arjen murmured something in his sleep. Lying here with him, running a hand up and down his bare arm, Max was filled with a tenderness so intense he had to swallow hard.

It was so quiet in his flat at the weekends. Total silence reigned. Not even a bird sang on a branch outside the window. He had Arjen all to himself.

Max leaned in and kissed him, slowly, gently, letting his eyes slide shut. Arjen stirred again. Max smoothed a hand down the lean planes of his body to take his cock in his hand, stroked him as he kissed him, feeling him harden. “Morning,” Max whispered.

Arjen made a sleepy sound and reached up to tug him down into another kiss. He was so warm, so inviting. His fingers tangled in Max’s hair.

Max reached for the lube, still kissing him, uncapped it and squeezed some onto his fingers. When he ran a slick finger down between Arjen’s thighs, Arjen caught his breath, arching slightly into Max. “Feel good?” Max murmured. “Or does it hurt?” He had pushed Arjen pretty hard last night; given his inexperience, Arjen might be feeling it this morning.

“S’good.” Arjen’s voice was sleepy and rough. Arjen cupped his cheek with one warm hand as he kissed him again.

Max slipped him that finger, loving the stifled sound he made, the twitch of his hardening cock in his hand. It still amazed him how fucking tight Arjen was. Max couldn’t wait to get inside him again. “Relax for me, sweetling.” He pushed another finger in; Arjen clutched at him. He was intoxicating.

Max pushed him onto his side and dragged him against him, his back against Max’s chest, tugged his knee up to open him so that Max could enter him from behind. Max pushed into him deliberately slowly, dragging it out so he could enjoy every moment.

The slick grip of Arjen’s body felt every bit as fantastic as Max remembered. Arjen moaned, gripping handfuls of the bedcovers. Max kept pressing relentlessly in while Arjen shuddered against him, a gasp caught in his throat. Finally Max sheathed himself fully in him. Perfect.

“That’s good. You’re so fucking hot.” Max slipped an arm around him to keep him there, where Max could rock into him in a steady rhythm. He kept it slow, because it was clearly driving Arjen crazy. “You’re so tight. So slippery. Mmm.” In and out, in and out.

“Harder.” Arjen panted in his arms.

“No.” Max nipped his earlobe, catching it in his teeth. “You can wait till I’m ready.”

The sound Arjen made was pure need. He pulled uselessly against Max’s grip. “Now. Please. I need it now.”

“Wait.” Max tightened his grip to hold him still. He loved having this power over Arjen, being able to drive him out of his mind with desperation. He slowed his pace, tormenting him ever more ruthlessly.

“Please!” Arjen’s voice cracked.

That undid the last of Max’s self-control. He could not hold back any longer. He got a rough grip on Arjen and started to pound him hard, slamming into him with each thrust. The impact jolted these sweet little cries out of Arjen until finally he came with a helpless gasp. Max pulled him tight against him, forcing deep as he came, spilling inside him. He shuddered out his pleasure into Arjen’s clenching body.

Gah. Max was completely blissed out. The intensity of his climax had blanked everything else out of his mind.

It was only with extreme reluctance that he eased out of Arjen. Arjen winced, and Max soothed him with gentle fingers in his hair. He settled Arjen back into the curve of his body, basking in warm satisfaction. He never wanted to move again.

This was new territory. Max had never wanted last night’s conquest to stay before, and he wasn’t sure how to do it. Maybe he should make breakfast. Pancakes. Was that what you did the morning after? He could find a recipe. Coffee as well. Whatever would make Arjen stay a little longer.

He started idly wondering what it would be like if he persuaded Arjen to move in with him. If it would be like this all the time. They could spend every morning lazy and blissful in bed. He began to half doze, half dream.

Then his eyes snapped open.

He was stone cold awake in seconds, the glow winking out exactly like he’d expected. He stared at the peeling wall in his run-down flat on the wrong side of town.

It had just dawned on him what he was doing. Cuddling up to Arjen, fantasising about having a life together, waking every morning to Arjen in his arms. Like they were going to end up married reading the Sunday papers in bed together.

What a stupid, pathetic fantasy. Trying to make a home never worked out. The second you thought you’d built something it all came crashing down. And even knowing that, he wanted Arjen in his life so fucking badly it could kill him. Because after knowing Arjen for just a few days he already couldn’t imagine letting him go.

His throat closed up and his jaw clenched as he locked himself down. This was too dangerous, it was not allowed. He had to put a stop to this right now. He pulled his arm from around Arjen; Arjen made a sleepy sound of complaint, trying to snuggle deeper into Max’s arms.

“Get out,” Max said. It came out low and cold.

Arjen turned over, still sleepy, and his face fell when he saw Max getting out of bed and dressing. “What?”

Stay with me.
“I said get out.”

The words hung in the silence between them. Unmistakeable.

Arjen opened his mouth. Closed it again. He looked as though Max had hit him. “That—that’s it? You want me to leave?”

“What did you think was going to happen?” Max sneered. “I’ve fucked you. We’re done. Out.”

Arjen couldn’t seem to find words. He had to try several times before he got out a sentence. “Did—did I do something wrong? Last night? Because I could practise, I—”

“You were all right. For a beginner. Now get dressed.” Max tossed him his shirt.

Arjen shut his mouth. The slow colour was rising in his face, his jaw set tight. He picked up his shirt and started to dress in silence.

Max waited, arms folded, for him to finish. He was trying not to think about how it had felt to wake with Arjen in his bed. How terrifyingly like happiness.

Stop it. It meant nothing. He did not need Arjen. At all.

He threw Arjen out with one last parting shot. “You were too easy.”

Arjen gave him a look of pure hatred and walked away.

At least now he could forget about Arjen.

It turned out he could not, in fact, forget about Arjen.

When a week passed and he was still thinking about it, Max started hitting the gym harder. Then the bottle. It failed to drown out the longing. Max began cursing himself steadily for ever touching Arjen.

Arjen’s absence was a constant ache. The nights were lonely, but the mornings were worse. He would wake in the warmth of his bed, glowing again with remembered contentment, convinced that if he just opened his eyes, Arjen would be asleep in his arms. And every time he opened his eyes to find himself alone his heart cracked a little bit more.

He honestly could not understand what was happening to him. It had never been like this before. After he’d fucked somebody, it was game over. His interest in them ended. Usually they started calling and whining about wanting him back and then he was even less interested in them.

Needless to say, Arjen had not called. In fact, Max had not heard one word from Arjen since that morning.

That chilly silence was driving him up the wall. Because Max still wanted him. If anything, even worse than before. Arjen made him crave all kinds of stupid things, like the way Arjen wound his arms around his neck when they kissed, the way Arjen smiled against his mouth. Which was why Max had to stay away from him.

So when Arjen’s housemate Cate walked into the coffee shop where Max worked, Max nearly had a heart attack.

He froze behind the counter. This was not in his plan. It was so far outside his plan that he could not find a single word to say. He hated being seen here, in his low-level, low-paid, low-respect job, when everybody else he knew seemed to be a solicitor.

Cate fixed him with the world’s iciest stare. She was looking especially polished today, her chocolate-brown hair pulled back in a complicated knot, while Max was stuck in a stupid uniform. “Do you remember me?”

His throat was dry. “I’m at work, Cate.”

“I can see that.” Cate delivered that line without a single inflection. “I’m here about Arjen.”

Max brightened. Maybe Arjen had sent her to beg him to take Arjen back. “What does he want?”

“Nothing. I’m here to tell you to stay away from him.”

Max folded his arms. “He wants me back.” That would make perfect sense. Max had fucked somebody, he’d lost interest in them, they wanted him back. It had happened a hundred times.

“You obviously don’t know Arjen.” She laid down each word very precisely. “He wouldn’t take you back if you begged him.”

Customers were turning to stare, the shop falling quiet. Max could feel his face burning and it pissed him off even more.

“I just want you to know that you’re not good enough for him. Arjen is smart, he’s successful, he’s fantastic. He deserves someone who treats him well, someone who sees him as more than a quick fuck.”

Max bit his tongue. Because for a terrifying moment, he wanted to say:
He is more than that to me.
And that just didn’t happen.

“If you come near him again,” Cate said, “I’ll call the police.” And she turned and walked away.

Every inch of her infuriated him, from her perfect hair to her perfect dress to her perfect shoes. The rage rose in him like a volcanic eruption. “You’re jealous,” Max hissed, ignoring the queue of wide-eyed customers. “You hate that he likes me better than you. Too fucking bad. He wants me. Me!”

Cate walked out without looking back.

His grip on the counter was so tight that the metal creaked. His uniform collar was choking him. His manager was bearing down on him at full speed. He took several deep breaths to force down his fury.

This was driving him up the wall.

By Monday he could not stay away from Arjen a single day longer. The urge to see him wound tighter like clockwork until Max was on the very edge of snapping. He was convinced that he wouldn’t last another hour without seeing him again. It terrified him.

He told himself it would just be sex, nothing more, so it would be all right. It wouldn’t crack his fragile life right open.

Max lay in wait outside Arjen’s law firm just like last time. The cafe across the street had an empty table outside that he took. The temperature had dropped and the wind hurled stinging drops of rain at him, but he barely registered them. He sipped expensive coffee that tasted like ash in his mouth and drummed his fingertips on the metal table top as he stared across the street.

Arjen spotted him the moment he stepped outside. In fact, he looked straight across the street to the cafe, making Max think that he might have expected this. Maybe he fantasised about Max waiting for him just like Max fantasised about seeing him.

But that was stupid. Arjen clearly wasn’t that interested in him or he would have fucking called.

Their gazes locked. Arjen’s eyes widened, then narrowed, dark and cold. Seeing him again took Max’s breath away; he was seized by the need to touch him. Max was halfway across the street before he’d even realised he’d gotten up.

“That’s close enough,” said Arjen.

Max forced himself to stop, fists clenching. “Arjen—”

“Save it.” Arjen turned and walked away.

Max’s jaw dropped. It had not occurred to him that Arjen would shrug him off so casually; this proof that his obsession was one-sided cut him deeply. He followed Arjen, falling in behind him as Arjen pushed through the rush-hour crowds. “Don’t walk away from me, Arjen.”

“Strange you should say that,” Arjen said through his teeth. “Since last time we met, you told me to get out.”

Max caught his arm. The fabric of his coat was slightly wet from the morning’s rain. Arjen spun to face him; his muscles tautened beneath Max’s grip and for a second Max expected him to hit him. Arjen spelled it out for him slowly. “Take your hands off me.” He was especially hot when he was furious, with that blazing look in his eyes, the colour high in his face. The wind caught at his coat and tangled its fingers in his hair.

“I’ll take my hands off you when I’m good and ready.” Because even this brief contact was feeding a part of Max that had been starving for days. He could not believe how much he had missed touching Arjen.