Ropes and Dreams (7 page)

“It doesn’t matter,” Drake muttered, shoving his hands into his hair. “It doesn’t. You don’t really want me. You won’t, anyway, once I tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Ian asked, his heart slamming hard against his ribs. His mind blanked for a split second, then he thought of reasons why Drake might say that. “Are you positive?”

Drake jerked his head back like Ian had slapped him, and Ian felt like he’d delivered a punch when he saw the hurt in Drake’s eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” he rushed out, feeling his tongue turn thick on him, threatening to tangle up his words. “I’ve had scenes with subs who were positive.” One, anyway. The other Doms had refused to service the sub, but Ian had seen the need and pain from the rejections in the sub’s eyes and he’d stepped up to help the man out. “It definitely isn’t a deal breaker,” Ian added, watching Drake closely.

He saw the twitch of Drake’s fingers, the way he pulled at the ends of his hair as he darted his gaze all over the room, at anything but Ian. Drake’s chest rose faster, and his nostrils flared. Fear, pure and simple and so not what Ian wanted Drake to feel then. Had they been in a scene, and Drake wanted it—but they weren’t.

“Drake,” Ian said quietly, dropping back into his normal self. Cold, stiff, even, but it was him despite what he felt inside. “Drake, look at me.”

The snap in his voice had Drake jerking his head around to stare at him.

“Breathe, and calm down,” Ian ordered. He took a slow, deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then gave a measured exhalation. Drake followed him, matching his breathing in no time at all.

Ian kept it up as he crossed over to Drake. By the time he was standing in front of Drake, so close he could smell the man’s soap or shampoo, Drake was calm again.

“I don’t know if I am,” Drake said, those eyes pleading with Ian not to walk away. “Rigo only called me a little over two weeks ago and said he was positive. Before I left, before he hit me that last time, he didn’t wear a condom. I didn’t know until he was fucking me, and he wouldn’t stop and—”

Ian cupped Drake’s chin and pressed his lips to Drake’s, shutting off the panicked flow of words. Inside, Ian was raging. He had a name now, too, a not very common one, he’d bet. What he’d do with it remained to be seen, but there’d be a confrontation at the very least.

For now, he wanted to soothe Drake’s fears, and, since Drake didn’t seem to believe his words—that being HIV positive wouldn’t send Ian screaming from his presence—it was time for actions instead.

Ian licked Drake’s lips, asking for entrance. Drake whimpered, his breath softly flowing into Ian’s mouth. Ian slipped his tongue in, tasting Drake, feeling his warmth and learning his kiss.

Drake went stiff as stone for a minute, then he moaned and locked his arms around Ian’s neck, clinging to him. Ian’s heart swelled with something very close to joy, and he closed his eyes as he sank into the kiss.

The sounds Drake made were incredible, needy little wordless noises that spurred Ian’s lust to new heights. He lapped at Drake’s lips, at his tongue, wanting to leave himself imprinted on Drake.

When he lifted his head, Drake protested, his eyes opening and showing his dazed passion. Ian ran a hand down between them until he palmed the large bulge at Drake’s groin. Shit, but the guy was hung.

“Please,” Drake whispered in an achingly sweet voice.

Ian rubbed Drake’s cock through his clothes, pressing harder with each swipe over it. “Please what? Say my name when you ask for something, Drake. I want to hear it. Say ‘Please, Ian’.”

“Please, Ian, don’t stop.”

Hearing Drake say his name almost drove Ian mad with passion. He’d never been so turned on just from hearing someone use it before, but Drake was something—someone—special. Ian pushed his hand down farther, feeling Drake’s balls.

“Oh gosh,” Drake panted, and Ian almost stopped touching him.

Oh gosh?
He’d heard many expressions of passion and pleasure, but they’d always been along the lines of ‘oh my fucking God’, not ‘oh gosh’.

But Drake was trembling for him, thrusting into his palm. Obviously his words weren’t meant as an understatement.

Ian used his other hand to pinch at Drake’s nipples, the hard tips easy to find through the thin material of his T-shirt.

Drake gasped and threw his head back. “More, please, please!”

The way his Adam’s apple bobbed was a beautiful thing to see. Ian leaned over enough to suck on it gently. Drake shivered for him, and Ian decided then and there not to let the man get away. Drake’s fears, his hesitation and doubts, were all things Ian would find a way to overcome.

“What do you want?” he asked Drake, needing to hear Drake’s desire spoken out loud.

“Tell me,” Drake rasped.

Ian hesitated, his lips still on Drake’s throat. What did Drake mean?

“Tell me,” Drake said again, curling his fingers so that he was gripping Ian’s shoulders tightly. “What to do, what—something!”

Ian growled, the sound escaping him as pride burst over him. Drake was handing himself over. But—
But he said he’s been with jerks who bossed him around. Is he thinking I’m like them? Or does he need me, need what I can do for him? Has he been looking for that and didn’t know it?

It was possible that Drake had sought out men who were controlling and violent because he knew he needed something, but not what that was, exactly. Ian didn’t know. He wasn’t going to risk scaring Drake off by taking a wild guess at what he’d like.

Ian knew what he’d like. What any man with a damn pulse liked. It wasn’t something he did often, but he could do it well enough. Ian prised Drake off him and spun them both around. He nudged Drake back a few steps. When he was close enough for it, Ian caught Drake at the waist and shoulder. “Lean back,” he ordered.

Drake’s eyes bugged but he let Ian guide him onto the table. Ian had to shove aside a plate but other than that, there wasn’t anything in the way. He unfastened Drake’s jeans.

“What are you doing?” Drake asked, his voice squeaking and hitting a higher octave than Ian had heard him use before. “You can’t—”

Ian pulled down the zipper tab, keeping his gaze on Drake’s. “I can. I have condoms, and you need to know I meant what I said.”

“I believe you,” Drake rushed out, but Ian could see the doubt in the man’s expression. “You don’t have to fuck me to prove it.”

Ian grinned, and even to him, it felt predatory. “I’m not going to fuck you to prove it. I’m going to blow you until you scream—not just to prove it, but because I want your cock in my mouth.”

“Oh gosh, I—”

“Gosh?” Ian couldn’t help but ask. He regretted it when Drake blushed furiously and tried to get up. “I’m not making fun, Drake. Please don’t think that I am. I’m just used to more…ribald words during sex, that’s all. I like yours better,” he declared, taking a quick kiss.

Except the kiss wasn’t so quick, because Drake offered his mouth, parting his lips. Ian wasn’t turning that down. He gave them both what they wanted, then left Drake breathless and pliant. Ian tugged his pants down enough to get Drake’s big cock out. “Fuck, you’ve got a fantastic dick,” he murmured, tracing one of the veins running down the length. “You ever fuck someone with this monster?”

Drake jerkily shook his head. “I like to bottom,” he whispered.

“Thank God,” Ian said with more than a little relief. He didn’t care to bottom. Even a finger in his ass was uncomfortable. A cock the size of Drake’s would kill him.

Drake wiggled and Ian tugged his pants down farther. “Pick your hips up so I can see your ass and balls.”

“I—you—” Drake sputtered.

Ian narrowed his eyes at the man. “I don’t beat around the bush, no. I ask for what I want, and if you let me, I’ll demand what I want. What you want.” Ian got Drake’s pants down around his knees. He palmed Drake’s balls, measuring their weight in his hand. Large and furry, Ian’s favourite. He licked them and Drake yelped.

Ian grinned and raked his teeth over them. Drake’s moan had to have been heard all the way out to the bunkhouse. Ian did it again, then he left off tormenting Drake long enough to dig the condoms from his back pocket.

Drake eyed him warily. “You always carry those?”

“Not on me, no, but I was hopeful…” He tore one off the strip. He was going to show Drake that he was still desirable, then he was going to get the man to talk to him.

Chapter Five

Drake couldn’t believe what was happening. He’d told Ian about Rigo and that whole nightmare, but Ian didn’t seem turned off. In fact, he was tearing open the condom package.

“Ian—” he began, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Ian once again that he had nothing to prove. Obviously, Ian felt otherwise, and arguing was stupid since Drake wanted Ian’s mouth on him. The condom would probably dull the sensation some. Drake didn’t know—he’d never had one on during a blow job before.

“So beautiful,” Ian said quietly as he held Drake’s cock up. “Put this on.” Ian handed Drake the condom. Before Drake could wonder if Ian was scared to do it himself, Ian bent and sniffed his balls.

Drake let loose a mortifying yelp. He’d never had anyone sniff him there before! Then Ian chuckled, and his breath wafted over Drake’s nuts. Drake’s balls tingled and drew up. His hands shook as he got the condom in place. Rolling it down was sheer torture. Drake was so close to coming.

“Perfect,” Ian said. Before Drake could think up an appropriate response—was he supposed to say thank you or what?—Ian lapped at the tip of his cock.

Drake’s brain was going to freaking melt, just like his insides were trying to do. “Oh, oh, please—Ian,” he tacked on, remembering Ian’s demand. Maybe it’d been a request, but Drake didn’t think so, and it wasn’t a selfish thing to ask. Drake liked saying Ian’s name. He liked the way it made Ian’s pale blue eyes darken as the pupils expanded, the way Ian looked more stern and yet needy at the same time.

And he really liked the way it got him more. Ian suckled his cock in deeper, and even with the condom on, it was an exquisite pleasure that fired up every nerve in Drake’s shaft. He clenched his ass, wishing he had a hard, fat cock in him. That would be perfection, being blown and fucked at the same time.

Then he was rethinking what perfection was, because Ian bobbed down farther and the suction was so intense, Drake felt it down to his core. He tried to spread his legs, but the jeans proved to be frustratingly restrictive. It was almost like he was bound…

Ian came back up his length and promptly went down again. At the same time, he spread Drake’s butt cheeks apart. While he didn’t touch Drake there, the mere act of opening him up like that slammed Drake into orgasm. He yelled and bucked his hips. Ian planted an arm over his belly, forcing Drake down as he pumped his release into the rubber. Being held down only intensified Drake’s climax, so that he was dizzy and breathless, gasping like he’d run half a dozen miles when the last spurt left his cock.

Ian left off sucking him and before Drake knew what was what, he was being kissed. The taste of latex was repulsive, but Ian had tolerated it—somehow. Drake fought the impulse to turn his head, and was rewarded by finding Ian’s flavour under the nasty condom’s residue.

Ian kissed him until Drake’s lips felt swollen, then he moved down to Drake’s chin, his jaw, his neck. By the time Ian reached his collarbone, Drake’s cock was beginning to try to firm up again. Ian slid a hand down to Drake’s balls. “I like these, like this.” He traced the base of Drake’s shaft. “I like all of you. Tell me we can try this.”

Drake wasn’t sure if Ian meant messing around, dating or BDSM—or some combination of those things. He needed to ask for clarification, but he was climax-stoned and would have agreed to anything Ian asked of him.

Maybe Ian knew that, because he put a finger to Drake’s lips. “Don’t answer that now. Think about it, and call me tomorrow, or whenever you have an answer. I’ll try to be patient.” Ian moved his finger and kissed him again. “Drake.” He touched Drake’s cheek, staring in his eyes. Drake couldn’t look away from the pale icy irises. “I’ll try whatever you want.”

Drake got the feeling that was something different from anything Ian had offered other men. He’d said he hadn’t had a relationship, had just fucked around and done scenes. Drake was pretty sure Ian was offering him much more than that. It was heady and scary.

Ian looked at him, yearning slipping into Ian’s expression before he locked it down and the cold, harsh demeanour was firmly back in place.

Dang it, that turned Drake on, too.

Ian didn’t smile, exactly, but Drake thought he could feel the man’s amusement. It warmed Drake inside and thawed some of the fear that had settled around his heart.

Then Ian kissed him, just a brush of lips on lips, and he helped Drake up. Drake’s pants slid down to his ankles.

“I hope I haven’t gotten you in trouble,” Ian said quietly. “I didn’t think about your job, I just wanted to touch you.”

Drake knew he had to look like an idiot with the condom still dangling off his cock and his jeans and underwear on the floor, but he didn’t know if pulling anything off or up or whatnot would change that. It didn’t matter, he supposed, since Ian was looking him in the eyes.

“If there’s a problem because of it—”

“There won’t be,” Drake interrupted. “Carlos, Troy and Will left us alone for a reason.”

Ian nodded. “All right then. I’d better go, unless you’d like help with the dishes.”

Drake somehow doubted that would be Ian’s preferred way to end the evening. In fact… “What about you?” A glance showed him that Ian’s cock was still tenting his pants. “You want me to—”
Do what? I don’t know what to offer anymore!

Ian growled and Drake quit his silent panicking. “I want you to quit worrying. Tonight was about you, giving you something I don’t usually give anyone else. It was about bringing you pleasure. I’m a big boy, Drake. A hard-on isn’t going to kill me. If it was, I’d have been dead when I saw you last night, standing outside with that puppy bouncing all over the place.”

“Oh, okay.”