How trite, he thought.
As he lay in bed and thought about Marcus and his steely grey eyes, Tyler grew hard again. He closed his eyes and fisted his cock, slowly stroked it. He wondered what the man’s body looked like, how he would feel, how he’d respond to his touch.
With that thought, it didn’t take Tyler long to climax. He caught his breath before cleaning up and returning to bed, where he spent the night dreaming about Marcus.
* * * *
Sunday evening, Tyler arrived at Bob and Terry’s house ten minutes early. Terry smiled as he let him in. “Have fun, you two.”
Bob appeared in the kitchen doorway behind him. “Don’t bust his balls, Ter.”
Marcus walked out, dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt. His smile hardened Tyler’s cock. “Ready?”
Tyler nodded.
Marcus kept him talking on the way to the Columbia Restaurant in Ybor City, and all throughout their dinner. Unusual, because usually Tyler did the listening as he gently directed the conversation. By the end of their meal, Marcus knew a lot about Tyler, while Tyler knew practically nothing about this man.
As their meal wound down, Marcus leaned forward, elbows on the table, hands clasped. His mouth twisted in a sultry smile as he dropped his voice. “Tell me, Tyler, do you prefer to bottom or top?”
Tyler blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
The way Marcus’ eyes crinkled in amusement hardened Tyler’s cock again. “You haven’t had a lot of experience with men, have you?”
Tyler didn’t know how to answer that, so he just shook his head.
Marcus laughed, sat back, and took a sip of sangria. “Ah.” He winked, making Tyler’s face blush and his cock throb inside his pants. “I thought so.” He leaned in again. “Just so you know, I don’t bottom. Somehow I get the feeling that’s not going to be a problem for you, is it?”
Still not quite sure what Marcus meant even though his implication was pretty clear, Tyler softly replied, “No. It won’t.”
* * * *
They were the last patrons out the door. In the dark and nearly empty parking lot, Tyler unlocked the passenger door for Marcus. When Tyler turned, the other man stepped in and pressed him against the side of the car. Tyler looked into his eyes and felt helpless to do anything.
Not that he wanted to.
A firm bulge poked into Tyler’s hip, triggering his own reaction.
Marcus didn’t speak at first, his eyes searching Tyler’s face. “You’re obviously attracted to me.” Marcus sounded nonchalant, matter of fact. “So why haven’t you slept with a man yet?”
Tyler started to stammer, not used to feeling flustered like this.
Marcus interrupted him. “You’ve played around a little with men, just never fucked a man or been fucked by one.” A statement, not a question.
Tyler nodded, his cock almost painfully hard in response to Marcus’ assured confidence.
A long, slow, sexy smile creased the older man’s face. “Mmm. A virgin ass.” He slanted his mouth over Tyler’s and kissed him, hard, possessively, nipping and biting Tyler, drawing a low, hungry moan from him.
Then Marcus stepped away, leaving Tyler shaky and breathless. “You don’t have any plans for the next few evenings, do you?” Marcus asked.
Tyler shook his head.
“Good.” Marcus stepped past Tyler and slid into the passenger seat.
Tyler realized he was still standing there. He closed the passenger door, hurried around the front of the car, and got behind the wheel. Marcus’ pleased smile kept Tyler’s cock throbbing.
Dammit, he’d never felt like this about a woman before. Any woman. Or a man. What the hell was going on with him? What was it about this man, someone who should make him bristle at the way he took charge?
With a shaky hand, Tyler started to put the key in the ignition. Marcus reached over and stopped him, his long, graceful fingers curving around his wrist, the heat from the other man’s flesh electrifying against Tyler’s skin.
Tyler lifted his gaze to Marcus, waiting.
Without turning his head, Marcus glanced around the parking lot, then pulled Tyler to him. His tongue pressed for entrance, insistent, possessive. Tyler gave in to his lead and let him explore and taste, eagerly leaning across the seat to be closer to him.
Marcus’ hand cupped the back of Tyler’s head, his fingers tightly twining in his hair. “Do you know what I want right now, Tyler?” Marcus whispered in his ear.
“What?”
“I want to feel those sweet, hot lips of yours wrapped around my cock.”
Tyler’s heart raced. He didn’t care if Marcus heard him moan. God help him, he wanted to taste him. “We can go back to—”
“Not later. Now. Right now.”
Tyler’s pulse went from thundering to stopped in the space of a beat. “Beg pardon?”
Insistent pressure on the back of Tyler’s neck pressed him down toward the other man’s lap. “It’s dark. There’s no one around.” Marcus leaned in and nipped Tyler’s earlobe. “Let me let you in on a secret, Tyler. I like to take charge. I have the feeling you want your men that way. There’s not a woman in the world who can give you what I can give you right now.”
Tyler closed his eyes as the man’s deep, silky voice sank into his soul. He was right.
Damn him.
With shaky fingers, Tyler leaned over and fumbled his trousers open. The man wasn’t wearing underwear, making the job a little easier. Marcus kept one hand on the back of Tyler’s neck, gentle, steady pressure refusing to let go, while he leaned the seat back with his other hand.
“That’s it,” Marcus said. “You know what do to. It’s instinctive, isn’t it?” His fingers molded around the back of Tyler’s skull, coaxing, directing.
Torn between lust and self-loathing over his eagerness to comply, Tyler wrapped his lips around the other man’s cock and traced the ridge with his tongue.
Marcus rewarded him with a sharp intake of breath and another gentle squeeze on his head. “That’s it, baby. You’re a natural. I’m keeping an eye out. You just do what you’re doing down there. I’ll take care of everything else. I’ll keep you safe.”
Tyler closed his eyes and let himself go, sliding the man’s stiff shaft deeper into his mouth with Marcus still pressing for more. He wasn’t the first man Tyler had gone down on, or even the largest, but he was the first to totally take charge like this.
His other hand slipped around Tyler’s head. Now Marcus was in total control, Tyler unable to do much more than hang on and lick and suck for all he was worth. His cock painfully throbbed, demanding release as he envisioned how he must look being taken like this. The cock in his mouth throbbed, grew stiffer as the salty tang of pre-come hit his tongue.
“You’re doing good,” Marcus said as his hips jerked harder. “Don’t stop what you’re doing. I’m almost there. Dammit, you’re fantastic!”
Warmth rolled through Tyler. Mixed with his conflicting emotions was pride that he was doing this to this man, and gratitude that his efforts were appreciated.
This man wanted him.
New urgency spurred Tyler, wanting more, wanting approval.
“Get ready,” Marcus warned, just as his fingers tightened on his head.
Tyler swallowed, determined not to fuck this up, He managed to not gag as he deep-throated him without losing a drop. He didn’t move as Marcus went limp in the seat, his grip changing from commanding to gentle as he stroked and smoothed Tyler’s hair.
“That was wonderful.” He patted Tyler’s shoulder. “Fantastic. You can sit up now.”
Tyler wasn’t sure what, if any, the protocol was. He raised his head from the other man’s lap.
Marcus gave him a smile and leaned in for another kiss. “Damn, for a man without much experience, that was really, really good. You absolutely are a natural.” He released Tyler, sat back, and fastened his trousers. “I was talking to a friend who recently moved from the area. He said there’s a grea
t club here in Ybor City, called Blue Coconuts, right on the main drag.” His gaze landed squarely on Tyler again. “Let’s go check it out.”
Tyler’s cock screamed for attention, but he nodded. “All right.”
Marcus smiled and stroked Tyler’s chin. “Very good. You and I are going to get along just fine, aren’t we?”
Tyler nodded.
Chapter Six
Nearly midnight, it took Tyler twenty minutes to find the main strip since he’d never been there before. Even on a Sunday night, Seventh Avenue looked like a cross between something out of Key West and Bourbon Street all rolled into one crazy, tropical Tampa backdrop. They asked a mounted cop for directions, and he pointed them the right way. Tyler stared at the blue neon sign on the building’s façade as Marcus paid their cover and they each received a wristband. The loud electronic music thumping through the brick walls didn’t bode well, in Tyler’s mind, but he was along for the ride wherever it might lead.
And right now, it was his still-stiff cock doing the leading.
Marcus leaned in to the bouncer and asked him something. The other man pointed to a flight of stairs and handed him two more wristbands after Marcus passed him another twenty. Marcus grinned, slipped one band on himself, another on Tyler, and grabbed Tyler’s hand.
“Come along, little one. Time to broaden your horizons.”
Tyler wanted to bridle at the endearment, but the way Marcus laced his fingers through Tyler’s wiped away any thought of protest. Marcus in the lead, they climbed to the third floor, where another bouncer waved them in after glancing at their wrists.
Tyler would have turned around and left if it wasn’t for Marcus leading him deeper into the space. A balcony of sorts, the center of the large room looked all the way down onto the dance floor on the main level. Because of the club’s light and sound rigging, the patrons below couldn’t look up and easily see who watched them. The patrons on the ground level were mostly gay male couples with a few hetero and lesbian couples mixed in. The music throbbed, the bass rolling through his body, the volume making casual conversation difficult at best.
Half of one wall was taken up by a bar lit with blue neon and worked by a buff, shirtless man younger than Tyler. He wore a buckled leather collar around his neck, leather wrist cuffs on each hand, and tight leather pants that showed every vein of the large cock shifting to the right of his zipper.
Tyler stared, amazed, as Marcus confidently led him across the space, apparently totally at ease in this environment. Various darkened alcoves were tucked around the room, each appearing to contain equipment of various sorts. Some Tyler recognized, and some he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they were used for. Tyler jumped when somewhere behind them it sounded like a whip cracked and a man moaned loudly, even over the music.
Marcus didn’t let go of his hand as he laughed. “Ah, sounds like someone’s having a fun time.” He turned and caught Tyler’s eye. “Too bad I couldn’t bring any of my toys with me. Customs tends to hassle people with whips and crops.” He winked.
Tyler was pretty sure Marcus wasn’t kidding.
The older man led him to the bar, where he ordered himself a rum and Coke, then looked at Tyler. “Regular or diet?”
“Regular.”
Marcus ordered him a plain Coke, then took a sip of his own drink. “Well, what do you think?” Unmistakable amusement crinkled his eyes.
Tyler glanced around. “I’m not sure.”
Marcus laughed. “You haven’t run screaming yet. That’s a good thing, I suppose.”
Tyler didn’t know where to look or what to watch. He wasn’t sure if he felt under- or overdressed based upon the nearly naked state of many of the people.
Marcus grabbed Tyler’s hand and led him around the outskirts of the room, to the far side where a group of people were gathered at a discreet distance around a piece of equipment. The taller man positioned Tyler in front of him, his hips pressed into Tyler’s backside.
He dipped his head, his lips near Tyler’s ear. “You’ll like this. Watch.”
As if he had a choice between Marcus’ commanding tone of voice and the almost train-wreck-like atmosphere. A man was tethered to an upright X-shaped structure, his back to the spectators. His arms and legs bore leather cuffs. The way they were clipped to the structure left him spread and vulnerable.
“That’s called a St. Andrew’s Cross,” Marcus explained.
The blindfolded man, dressed in nothing more than a G-string and a thick, locked leather collar, wore a red ball gag. Another man, this one in leather pants and shirtless, wore a leather harness buckled across his torso. He checked the bound man’s restraints.
He also carried a few decidedly dangerous-looking implements usually seen in horse barns, not Ybor City nightclubs. This man, tall and lithely muscled, grabbed a handful of the bound man’s hair and roughly yanked his head back. “Do you belong to me?”
A single loud grunt from the man in reply, all he could manage through the gag.
“I wonder if he’s his Master or just his top,” Marcus idly wondered, more to himself than to Tyler.
Tyler remained silent, fascinated and scared at the same time.
The man hauled off and slapped the bound man’s ass, leaving his hand in place and fiercely squeezing the flesh. “Maybe my puppy needs a tattoo, right here for the world to see. ‘Property of Master Kahn.’”
“Answers that question,” Marcus murmured.
The man wiggled his ass against his Master’s hand, not trying to escape his touch, but in a blatant attempt to get closer.
“My puppy doesn’t get off that easy,” Master Kahn teased, stepping away. He bent over and retrieved something from a black duffel bag on the floor. He then stepped in and said something in puppy’s ear as he placed the item in the man’s left hand and closed his fingers around it.
The man nodded.
Marcus rested his chin on Tyler’s shoulder. “I’d be willing to bet that’s their safety.”
“What?”
“Watch puppy’s hand. If he drops whatever it is he’s holding, I’m sure his Master will stop the scene.”
Tyler wasn’t sure what that meant, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.
Master Kahn stepped away and hefted a flogger. “Is puppy ready for his punishment?”
Tyler assumed the ass wiggle was an affirmative.
Master Kahn glanced around to check his clearance before he started swinging the flogger, working up and down puppy’s back with it, more a brushing kind of stroke than a heavy, thuddy impact. After a few minutes, as the man’s skin gradually grew pink under the leather lashes, Master Kahn picked up the pace. From the sound and look of the strokes, they were more to directly strike than sweep across the flesh.
Marcus ground his hips against Tyler’s backside, one arm dropping to Tyler’s waist. “That could be you,” he said, his lips brushing Tyler’s ear. “Helpless. Bound. Trusting me to take you to the edge and not let you fall over. Have you ever had that kind of trust in anyone before?”
“No.” Tyler didn’t realize he’d answered aloud until Marcus chuckled.
“I thought not.” At some point Marcus had finished his drink and set the cup on a nearby table. He kept one arm around Tyler’s waist as he worked Tyler’s shirt loose from his slacks. That hand he slid under the fabric, up Tyler’s abs, lighting a trail of fire against his flesh. Then his fingers found his left nipple. As the arm around Tyler’s waist held him tightly, Marcus started to pinch.
Tyler moaned and nearly dropped his drink. He reached over and set it on a nearby table.
Marcus softly laughed. “I know. Feels good, doesn’t it?” He squeezed a little more, the slight bite of pain making Tyler’s cock throb even harder. “Lean against me. Relax.”
Tyler leaned back, but relaxing was out of the question with his body screaming for more.
On the cross, puppy squirmed, trying to wiggle his ass to fall under the flogger’s lashes. Master Kahn stop
ped and stepped in, running his hand over the man’s pink flesh.
“I like this look on you. Let’s do some more.” Master Kahn dropped the flogger onto the duffel bag and picked up a fierce-looking riding crop. Tyler sympathetically winced as the man flicked it between puppy’s legs, but puppy seemed to enjoy it and loudly moaned around the ball gag.
“He’s deep in subspace right now,” Marcus explained. “I bet you’d love it.” He switched to pinching Tyler’s right nipple, giving it similar torment. “I’ve been told it feels like flying, the best natural high you can get without any drugs. The world falls away, and all you’re focused on is what you’re feeling. I love getting my boy into subspace and keeping him there for a while.”
Tyler’s head lolled against the other man’s shoulder as he struggled to keep his knees locked under him.
Master Kahn changed position and started working the crop over puppy’s ass and thighs, alternating hard and soft strokes depending on where they fell, leaving red welts behind in some cases. From where they stood off to the side, Tyler could see puppy’s erection straining against his G-string.
After another few minutes, Master Kahn traded the crop for a four-foot whip.
“Ah, a favorite of mine,” Marcus murmured. “I love a short singletail. You can kiss the flesh with it and make a boy come, or you can take off skin and make a boy scream.”
Master Kahn apparently had something close to the latter in mind. He struck puppy on the left ass cheek with it, leaving a red welt and making the man flinch against his bonds. “You don’t like the whip, do you, puppy?” Master Kahn asked.
The man shook his head.
Master Kahn evilly grinned. “You’ll take it though, won’t you?” He nailed him on the right ass cheek, leaving a matching welt.
The man nodded.
Master Kahn walked over and grabbed puppy’s hair again, wrenched his head back and spoke something in his ear. The man moaned and shook his head. Master Kahn gripped his hair tighter and said, loudly enough to be heard by the audience, “My puppy will be a good boy and do what he’s told or he’ll sleep in his crate tonight.”