Read Online The Deeper He Hurts by Lynda Aicher - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lynda Aicher
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The clipped notes hid more misery than any of his grunts and cries. This light touch and exploration was torturing him far more than the switch had done, and it flowed into Ash in a languid pooling of yet another kind of pain.
“No.” He prodded an especially large oval-shaped scar. “Burn?”
The rasping cut of Sawyer’s breaths accelerated, his muscles tensing until Ash lifted his fingers away from the scar. Another shudder raked through Sawyer, the reverberations tingling over Ash.
He wrapped his arm around Sawyer’s waist and held on, prepared to be tossed off, but it didn’t come. Sawyer stood stoic, his battle internalized behind his defenses. The power it took to rein in his anger, his hurt, his pain intrigued Ash and lit him up.
He grabbed Sawyer’s dick, worked it back to fully hard. His own erection was as hard as ever and he ground it into Sawyer’s ass. Pleasure burned through his groin to feed on the excitement coursing through him, on the adrenaline that ignited and pushed him on.
“You’re going to come,” he told Sawyer, adamant.
Sawyer rolled his shoulder and thrust back. “Fuck off.”
“No.” He flicked the switch, aiming and hitting that brutalized inner thigh area Sawyer seemed to favor. “Unless you safeword.”
A low, angry growl was Sawyer’s reply. Still not giving in. Not admitting to a weakness or a breaking point. Stubborn bastard.
Stubborn, infuriating, gorgeous, strong bastard.
Ash tightened his grip and increased the pace of his strokes, peppering more hits to Sawyer’s thigh. His resistance trembled into Ash, the vibrations like tiny notes of need and denial that harmonized with everything he craved.
Friction hampered his hand, the skin beneath it catching now and again. Sawyer’s grunts blended with moans until the delicious mix of pleasure and pain collided in an intoxicating blend. He longed to whip his dick out and sink into Sawyer’s ass, to grind down and pound in until Sawyer begged for mercy or release.
He settled for sinking his teeth into that spot on his neck, the flavor of sweat and man tempting his tongue and firing him more.
Sawyer jerked, hips jolting forward, and Ash landed a hard, punishing strike down his inner thigh. Sawyer’s mouth opened, neck tensing until the cords stood out, every muscle pulled tight down the front of Ash’s length.
“Let go,” Ash whispered. “Give it to me.”
“Why?” The question was gritted out around a tense jaw, air sucking through his nose.
“Because you can.” It was as simple and complex as that.
Sawyer grunted again. Twitched, rocked, and shook his head, resisting when he was doomed to fail. The struggle was fascinating to feel, the experience unique and almost overwhelming for Ash. His sadist clamored for more, to push and incite and demand Sawyer give him everything when he had no right to demand anything.
Sawyer’s roar was muted but forceful, back bowing as he came, each spasm and shot of come shooting out almost against his will. The anger shoved at Ash. The pain, mixed with relief and the subtle sign of surrender, reached in and eased his fever to a warm burn.
He slowed his hand when Sawyer finally stilled, sagging into the tree, legs shaking but holding. He tilted his head to rest against Ash’s, his chest expanding with each long pull of air. The urge to hold him tighter, to catch him when he fell was so strong Ash almost stepped away. Almost. He wouldn’t drop him, though. Or leave him hanging when he’d given so much.
He pressed a kiss to Sawyer’s jaw, the stubble rough on his lips. “That was gorgeous,” he praised. He never held back on the truth.
Sawyer jerked his jaw away, sniffed. He swallowed, the action audible in the hushed aftermath before he straightened, each motion pulling him away.
“You a…didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t have to do any of this,” Ash countered, not letting him go. He’d dropped the switch at some point and had both arms wrapped
“No.” He prodded an especially large oval-shaped scar. “Burn?”
The rasping cut of Sawyer’s breaths accelerated, his muscles tensing until Ash lifted his fingers away from the scar. Another shudder raked through Sawyer, the reverberations tingling over Ash.
He wrapped his arm around Sawyer’s waist and held on, prepared to be tossed off, but it didn’t come. Sawyer stood stoic, his battle internalized behind his defenses. The power it took to rein in his anger, his hurt, his pain intrigued Ash and lit him up.
He grabbed Sawyer’s dick, worked it back to fully hard. His own erection was as hard as ever and he ground it into Sawyer’s ass. Pleasure burned through his groin to feed on the excitement coursing through him, on the adrenaline that ignited and pushed him on.
“You’re going to come,” he told Sawyer, adamant.
Sawyer rolled his shoulder and thrust back. “Fuck off.”
“No.” He flicked the switch, aiming and hitting that brutalized inner thigh area Sawyer seemed to favor. “Unless you safeword.”
A low, angry growl was Sawyer’s reply. Still not giving in. Not admitting to a weakness or a breaking point. Stubborn bastard.
Stubborn, infuriating, gorgeous, strong bastard.
Ash tightened his grip and increased the pace of his strokes, peppering more hits to Sawyer’s thigh. His resistance trembled into Ash, the vibrations like tiny notes of need and denial that harmonized with everything he craved.
Friction hampered his hand, the skin beneath it catching now and again. Sawyer’s grunts blended with moans until the delicious mix of pleasure and pain collided in an intoxicating blend. He longed to whip his dick out and sink into Sawyer’s ass, to grind down and pound in until Sawyer begged for mercy or release.
He settled for sinking his teeth into that spot on his neck, the flavor of sweat and man tempting his tongue and firing him more.
Sawyer jerked, hips jolting forward, and Ash landed a hard, punishing strike down his inner thigh. Sawyer’s mouth opened, neck tensing until the cords stood out, every muscle pulled tight down the front of Ash’s length.
“Let go,” Ash whispered. “Give it to me.”
“Why?” The question was gritted out around a tense jaw, air sucking through his nose.
“Because you can.” It was as simple and complex as that.
Sawyer grunted again. Twitched, rocked, and shook his head, resisting when he was doomed to fail. The struggle was fascinating to feel, the experience unique and almost overwhelming for Ash. His sadist clamored for more, to push and incite and demand Sawyer give him everything when he had no right to demand anything.
Sawyer’s roar was muted but forceful, back bowing as he came, each spasm and shot of come shooting out almost against his will. The anger shoved at Ash. The pain, mixed with relief and the subtle sign of surrender, reached in and eased his fever to a warm burn.
He slowed his hand when Sawyer finally stilled, sagging into the tree, legs shaking but holding. He tilted his head to rest against Ash’s, his chest expanding with each long pull of air. The urge to hold him tighter, to catch him when he fell was so strong Ash almost stepped away. Almost. He wouldn’t drop him, though. Or leave him hanging when he’d given so much.
He pressed a kiss to Sawyer’s jaw, the stubble rough on his lips. “That was gorgeous,” he praised. He never held back on the truth.
Sawyer jerked his jaw away, sniffed. He swallowed, the action audible in the hushed aftermath before he straightened, each motion pulling him away.
“You a…didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t have to do any of this,” Ash countered, not letting him go. He’d dropped the switch at some point and had both arms wrapped
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