Hesitant Heart (13 page)

“We need more lubricant, little Sam. I want your first time to be wonderful.”

Sam nodded, back to watching Aaron’s actions. There seemed to be much more of the liquid being poured and Sam was taken aback when Aaron added it to his own stiff flesh, coating it thoroughly. It also made perfect sense when Sam considered it. Aaron poured a second generous amount on his fingers then climbed onto the bed between Sam’s legs. As Sam watched Aaron reach down, pulling Sam’s sac up to slick his hole, he remembered to be nervous. It was like Aaron could read his mind when he spoke to Sam.

“I love you, little Sam. We’re only going to do what you can handle, agreed?”

Sam wanted to cry from Aaron’s utter kindness.

“Agreed, Sir. I love you too.”

Aaron leaned over him then placed his free hand on the side of his head. He took a kiss and Sam parted for him willingly. He was lost in Aaron’s exploration of his mouth and didn’t notice that he was no longer touching his opening until there was the sensation of soft steel nudging his entrance.

I won’t clench.

Aaron broke the kiss. “Push out, little Sam.”

The very instant he complied with Aaron’s request, the large intrusion popped into his passage. He clamped down involuntarily and hissed. The intense burn almost bordered on a sting, the increased stretch bordering on pain.

“Slow breaths. I won’t go any further until you’re breathing evenly.”

The thought of any other man doing this to him was incomprehensible. Not only because of his love for Aaron, but because of what he’d experienced with the men he’d come across since arriving in Hollywood. He couldn’t imagine anyone else being so patient and caring. They would’ve taken whatever they’d wanted, however they’d wanted it, instead of being so gentle with him.

The tension in his muscles eased and he rested his ankles on Aaron’s hips at his lower back. Tentatively, he reached up to place his hands on Aaron’s shoulders. Sam nodded. Smiling warmly, Aaron sank into him, his movement slow and careful. When the bristly nest of curls at the base of Aaron’s cock was flush to Sam’s body, he rejoiced. Even if he thought he might tear in two, Aaron was all the way inside him. They were joined as if they were one person.

Aaron bowed in on himself so that their foreheads could touch.

“Love you, my sweet, sweet boy.”

“Oh, Sir, you’re in me.”

Licking at the seam of Sam’s lips, Aaron then murmured against his mouth.

“Yes, little Sam. I would be like this with you forever if I could.”

Sam wondered about that. Would they simply stay joined until Aaron came? He gasped as Aaron pulled slowly out then thrust back in the same way. Of course. Aaron would move just like they moved in each other’s mouths and hands.

Aaron continued at the same pace, but seemed to plunge in deeper with each stroke. The burn, the sting—it was still there. The sensation of being much too full was also there, but he decided that he liked it. It was already clear to him that he would ask Aaron for more fucking. Even if it hurt a bit, he was sure it would get better the more they practiced.

On the next thrust, Aaron jerked up and slammed into that spot in Sam’s passage. Sam dug his fingers into Aaron’s flesh, pressed his heels into his back.

More.

As if Aaron could read his mind, he did it again. And again. His speed increased with each snap of his hips and Sam’s dick filled, his need building low. He moaned, begging with his sounds for Aaron to keep going.

“That’s it, little Sam, that’s it.”

It was true—he was going to come again. He gazed up at Aaron’s face and met his eyes. The corners of Aaron’s lips were curled into a smile, his expression one of contentment. Sam was so excited and he wanted Aaron to be excited too.

“Are you going to come with me?”

Aaron’s brow creased. “Ah, sweet Sam, yes. Are you there?”

“Almost. Just a little more…”

Sighing, Aaron closed his eyes, his face contorting into a slight grimace. He pulled back then slammed home, groaning as he did. Then everything became a blur of sensation and their combined noises. Their cries increased, the pain and burn fading into the background as Aaron pegged him over and over. Droplets of sweat fell on him, Aaron’s movements becoming jerky. A slight pulse in Sam’s ass alerted him that Aaron was close. He didn’t know if he should hold back or let go. But he trusted. Aaron would know.

Aaron threw his head back. “Oh, God, Sam. Now, come now!”

Sam let out a garbled yell, akin to a growl as warmth shot between them. Aaron had gone completely rigid, the spasming strong in Sam’s channel, the heat of Aaron’s spend coating his insides a thrill. He had clamped down hard on Aaron’s cock and their joined release continued in waves that gradually eased.

“Sam…”

Aaron whispered his name over and over and Sam thought he really would cry. Being with Aaron was more beautiful than anything he’d ever known. He could never be without him.

Chapter Nine

They had only been able to fuck one more time in the week since Aaron had taken his virginity, and that time had only been a couple days before. His asshole and insides had been so sore afterwards. He’d recognized the look of concern in Aaron’s eyes after they’d finished and for once, he had been the one to reassure his lover that everything was okay. Aaron had made them wait before he would do that to Sam again.

But they’d done plenty of other things. Aaron had taken to tying Sam up almost every day. He always used soft materials. Scarves and bowties made of silk, velvet covered ropes. He even had fur cuffs for Sam’s wrists and ankles that could be adjusted with leather ties to make them snugger. They had leather loops that Aaron could attach to the bed posts or to the large wooden cross shaped like an ‘X’ that he had displayed in his extra bedroom.

They’d spent a lot of time in that room lately. There were plenty of items Sam had never seen before, but Aaron was always very careful to explain each one to him first before using it on Sam. Aaron combined hints of pain with the bondage—the clothespins on his nipples, spankings on his ass with a wooden spoon. Those stung, but there had been nothing very challenging. Nothing like he’d thought he would go through when Aaron first talked about pain. So far, everything Aaron had done had been more exciting than painful.

Sam knew that Aaron was still going slowly with him. As much as he appreciated it, he wanted to show Aaron that he could handle more. He wanted to give Aaron the pleasure that he knew his lover craved.

Aaron strolled into the living room, fresh from his shower, his silk robe tied around him. He had bought Sam one too, but hardly ever let him wear it. Sam was busy tending to Aaron’s Areca palm. He loved it so much. The fronds had needed some trimming, and Sam had asked Aaron to take him to the plant nursery to get some peat moss for it.

They had rarely left the house since Sam had moved in. He knew that it was because of Aaron’s fears over his father finding him. Aaron had finally confessed to Sam that until he felt that he was aware of all possible threats to Sam, he wanted to keep him safely hidden away.

Sam sat on his haunches, checking the dampness of the soil. He didn’t want to over water it, but it had been too dry when Sam had first moved in. It was already looking greener.

“How’s our plant, little Sam?”

“It’s yours, Sir. I’m just helping with it. Besides, it’s really a tree.”

He flushed. He’d never corrected Aaron. He hoped he didn’t get the punishment Aaron had given him one time where he’d tied up Sam’s cock and balls and not let him come until the next morning. That had been very awful. But it had been fair. He shouldn’t have been playing with himself in the shower without Aaron’s permission.

Your body is mine, little Sam. It’s for my pleasure, so therefore, I control it.

Aaron had told him that many times, so Sam knew better. But he’d watched Aaron do his exercises that morning and it had made him so hard. He’d had no relief during his morning discipline either. How could he help touching himself when Aaron made him so excited?

He peeked up at Aaron to see his reaction to what Sam had said. He seemed to be pondering something, but he didn’t look mad. Actually, Sam had never seen Aaron mad. He’d told the truth when he’d promised Sam that he would never hit him in anger.

Sam’s legs began to ache, so he rested on his heels. Maybe if he appeared very, very submissive, Aaron wouldn’t give him a bad punishment for his disrespectful words.

“I know, Sam. You can tell me sorry then we can be done with it.”

Sam met his eyes. “I
am
sorry. Very, very sorry. I didn’t mean to act like I know more than you.”

“Come sit with me, little Sam.”

Aaron padded to the couch then sat down. Sam scrambled up from the floor to be next to his lover. He typically knelt or sat on the floor right by Aaron but once in a while, he wanted Sam next to him. It was usually when he wished to discuss something and he always made sure to keep eye contact with Sam.

“Actually, you do know more than me about the subject of plants and greenery. It makes you very happy, doesn’t it?”

“They’re so amazing, so pretty. When I was still at my father’s home, they helped keep me calm. I could escape to the greenhouse and take care of them, do something that made me feel good.” He had an unexpected wave of emotion. “I hope Nadine is taking care of them.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t mean to abandon them like that. But my father had warned me that the next day we would be going to Gertrude’s parents and that I would offer to marry her or else. He’d said that we would go straight to the judge right after, to make it official. I panicked.”

Aaron reached over and covered Sam’s hand.

“There was nothing else you could do. And I’m sure if Nadine learned even half of what you know from helping you, that she’ll be taking very good care of your plants.”

The tears fell unbidden. “I shouldn’t have left them behind. I was so selfish.” He looked to Aaron. “What will he do to my mother, my sisters?”

Aaron wrapped him in an embrace and pulled him onto his lap. “Sweetest boy. You had to get away. You told me your mother encouraged you to leave. It was what she wanted for you.”

His heart felt as if there was a vise closing around it. He had Aaron, he had everything. What did they have? The same cruel man who cared for nothing or no one except for himself. He sobbed in Aaron’s arms. Sam had the vague realization that he’d been lifted from the sofa and was being carried. It wasn’t until he was set down in front of the cross in the extra room that he realized where he’d been taken.

The leather wrist and ankle cuffs affixed to each end of the wooden structure had short iron chains attached to them. The iron was heavy and reassuring. If Sam struggled in them at all, they made a dull, but satisfying clang against the large piece of furniture.

“Front position, Sam.”

He knew that Aaron wanted him to face the cross, spread his legs then lift his arms in order for Aaron to restrain him. There hadn’t been much in the way of pain inflicted on him on the cross as of yet. They’d primarily practiced with his positions and getting him accustomed to being bound to it. So far, the only thing that had been done to him on the wood piece was having his nipples clamped and being blindfolded while Aaron teased him with a silk scarf. That had been one of his favorite things ever. Once Aaron had aroused him to the state where he was begging and whimpering, Aaron had jacked him off with the soft square of fabric.

Sam was cuffed, Aaron as silent as he always was when he tied or played with Sam’s body. Sam had already learned not to twist or turn to follow Aaron’s movements. If he did that, Aaron would leave the room, telling Sam he would wait until Sam was ready to submit. Then he would check in on him a little while later. Sam had never made him go more than once.

The sounds of Aaron preparing something behind him had him on alert, his nerves building. The large oak cabinet doors creaked, followed by the shuffling of some unknown contents. Sam tensed, clenching his fists and curling his toes. He jumped when Aaron placed his large, soft hand on his back.

“Shh, easy. Submit to me, little Sam. Let me take you away.”

He used his breathing the way Aaron had taught him. Right as he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, Aaron tied a blindfold over them. He exhaled on a sigh. Even though he was still nervous, he knew that Aaron would keep him safe.

Aaron pressed something cool and hard against his ass. As he slowly circled it on his skin, Sam could tell that it was smooth, almost like a stone. It was removed then something else was pressed lightly on his flesh in the same area. He jumped, fighting the urge to clench his fists and make Aaron leave. There were many tiny little prickles. The instrument was rolled back and forth, bringing the surface of his skin alive. Then it was removed and the original smooth object soothed the spot that had been treated to the tiny pin pricks.

It’s the ivory brush.

Aaron had let Sam hold it once. He’d explained that it was his favorite implement, and that he would use it on Sam one day when he thought he was ready. The prickles would have been the stiff horsehair bristles, the smooth part the flat oval surface of the back of the brush. He remembered the handle being perfect for Aaron’s hand, a graduation at the end that tapered to the head—an ideal shape for Aaron’s sure grip.

A light draft of Aaron’s heated breath tickled his ear. “Do whatever you need to do in order to take this, little Sam. Struggle, yell. I won’t leave your side.”

Aaron pressed a kiss to his temple right as the first smack of the smooth surface of the brush hit his ass. Sam jerked forward as much as he was able, gritting his teeth as he yanked on the restraints. It had been a sharper sting than any he’d experienced before at Aaron’s hand. The next one landed on the opposite cheek and the burn increased. Alternating blows to his flesh built the pain.

And it
was
pain. It was all-encompassing and overwhelming in its intensity. It occurred to him that he’d been yelling. Aaron had been right. He’d needed to do that. His strength waned with each vicious blow to his abused skin and the tears flowed freely. The plea for mercy hovered at the corners of his consciousness where it had never existed up until that moment.