STORY EXCERPT

“Are you certain you want to do this?” Maxwell Wallace’s voice was masculine, seductive, and just a shade too close to condescending. He spoke as if he expected Quinn to chicken out.

Actually, Quinn English wasn’t sure he wanted to continue, but if he backed out now, his word wouldn’t be worth shit. Quinn had to feel the fear and go forward anyway. So he took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it as he nodded.

“All right then.” Maxwell attached the chrome chain to the leather collar around Quinn’s neck. “Let’s see how you look.” Maxwell kept a hold of the end of the leash as he stepped back and looked Quinn up and down. “Wonderful.”

Quinn didn’t need a mirror to know what he looked like. All he wore was the thick black leather collar and his tribal tattoos. At six foot two and over two hundred and twenty pounds, he was a muscular fullback for the Grizzlies. But tonight, he was a possession. Maxwell was going to lead him around like a prize, and Quinn couldn’t say a damn thing about it. In fact, if Quinn said anything, he’d violate their agreement and he’d have to start all over at ground zero.

“Ah, yes, the finishing touch.” Maxwell contrasted Quinn in his custom-tailored black business suit, a crisp white shirt, and a sedately printed tie that probably cost more than all of Quinn’s textbooks combined. From his pocket, Maxwell extracted another black leather object that puzzled Quinn, until Maxwell slipped it around Quinn’s cock and balls. Maxwell kept his intimate touches to a minimum, but his thick fingers still managed to put Quinn to half mast.

“You arouse very easily.” Maxwell peered up at him with his hazel eyes. While watching him intently, Maxwell adjusted the device so that once Quinn was fully hard, he would stay that way. “Comfortable?”

“No.”

Maxwell lifted one brow.

“May I?” Quinn asked.

“By all means.”

Quinn pushed a few hairs back and down, breathing a sigh of relief when he managed to ease the pinching. Now he could wear the device comfortably. Well, more comfortably than he could with it tugging on his pubes all night.

“You can see now why I have my submissives shave.”

On the tip of Quinn’s tongue rested the question of whether Maxwell shaved or not, but he kept his mouth shut. He’d find out the answer soon enough. Sometime during the next twenty-four hours Quinn would probably have Maxwell’s cock in his mouth. He could wait until then for the answer about what he looked like below his dress slacks.

From another pocket, Maxwell withdrew a much more delicate chrome chain. He hooked it to a tiny chrome loop on the cock ring then attached it to the large chrome circle at the front of Quinn’s collar.

“I want it very clear that all of this”—he swept his hand from Quinn’s face to his feet—“belongs to me.”

“For one night,” Quinn reminded.

“Twenty-four hours,” Maxwell clarified. He cupped Quinn’s chin possessively. “And that’s one night and one day of you being submissive. Right?”

“Right,” Quinn snarled.

Maxwell’s grip on his chin tightened a notch. “Don’t make me punish you because you know I will.” He drew a deep breath. So deep, in fact, it was almost as if he were tasting Quinn’s scent. “And you know I would love to discipline you.”

Even though it just about killed him, Quinn took the snark out of his voice and said, “Yes, Maxwell.” When he let go of his chin, Quinn kept his face low.

“Perfect. Now, are you ready?”

ADULT EXCERPT

Before Quinn could ask for an explanation, Maxwell turned him so that his hips were against the table, and then he forced him down, so his chest was pressed against the glass. Cool and slick, the surface smoothed against his lightly oiled muscles. When Quinn looked down, he saw a sea of faces, but the details were indistinct. He closed his eyes, determined to know nothing other than Maxwell’s possession.

Large hands that were perfectly manicured stroked over Quinn’s back and buttocks. Maxwell traced along the lines of his tattoos then over the ridges and valleys created by his muscles.

“Your body is a work of art.”

Quinn surged with pleasure. He’d worked hard to keep his body in shape and found being appreciated was almost as enjoyable as Maxwell’s kiss.

Onto the table, Maxwell placed the other end of the leash, coiling it close to Quinn’s head. Was it a warning that Quinn was still bound, or did he simply not need to keep control that way when Quinn was quite willingly his captive? All thoughts left his mind when Maxwell’s exploring fingers traced over Quinn’s bottom.

“Such a beautiful, tight, virgin ass.”

Quinn shivered. Somehow he was able to hear Maxwell so clearly. Into his mind came a perfectly formed image of Maxwell bent over his body, inspecting him, like the way an experienced merchant will scrutinize goods before offering payment.

Into his massive hands, Maxwell cupped Quinn’s buttocks, and then he parted them. The innocent hole he’d shown to the others he now considered. For the longest time, Maxwell held very still behind him, and all Quinn could do was speculate that he was examining his hole with the same critical eye he’d used on the rest of his body. There was a momentary panic that he might reject him, but Quinn didn’t know why he should think such a thing. The longer Maxwell kept his cheeks apart without speaking, without moving, without so much as a breath of explanation pushed Quinn’s anxiety higher.

“My beautiful, tight, virgin ass.”

Quinn felt the words spoken against his pucker, which caused his entire body to flex. Maxwell never lost his grip on Quinn’s buttocks. He spoke the words again, whispering his hot breath over Quinn seductively, causing his body to quiver with longing. And then, Maxwell stroked his thumb over Quinn’s hole.

Against the table his cock twitched, and he moaned so loud that surely everyone could hear him over the music. Not that he cared. Maxwell teased his thumbs in a synchronized rhythm between Quinn’s cheeks then against his hole, tipping the edges down so that he almost, almost but not quite, penetrated.

“So sensitive. So sweet.” His breath added to the feeling of his constantly moving thumbs.

It was almost as if he massaged that one tiny area. Maxwell seemed determined to relax him completely before he launched a pounding assault. When he changed the direction of his stroking thumbs, Quinn tensed, which pressed his cock against the slick glass of the table.

“Relax.”

Quinn tried to do as he was ordered, but curiosity kept a low-level tension in his entire frame. To distract himself from Maxwell’s ministrations, Quinn tried to picture what he would look like to someone below. If they looked up they could see his muscular body and his cock ring trapped prick through the glass table. And they would see that he was utterly splayed out while Maxwell took his time.

Quinn was ready for him right now. But he knew Maxwell wasn’t finished teasing him. By the time Maxwell mounted him, Quinn would be practically in tears begging for his prick.

Maxwell stepped between Quinn’s legs, nudging them wide with his powerful thighs. Then he stepped back again. Quinn waited breathlessly. He couldn’t see him, but Quinn sensed when Maxwell lowered his face.

“All this is mine.” He rubbed his trim beard and mustache along the now exquisitely sensitized flesh of Quinn’s bottom. Unable to move or even to barely breathe, Quinn held himself so still he lost his mind when Maxwell parted his cheeks almost viciously wide and then buried his tongue in Quinn’s pucker.

Lifting his head, Quinn whimpered and arched his back, presenting himself for mounting. He wanted Maxwell inside him so desperately he moaned.

Maxwell ate at his ass the same way he ate at his mouth. His tongue was hot and so slick, but all Quinn could think of was that he needed his thick cock to claim him. Maxwell refused to be rushed. He continued to tongue Quinn until his whimpers turned guttural. At that point, Maxwell slid one finger inside.

“Is that good?”

Unable to speak, Quinn growled his pleasure. His thick finger felt better than good. Rocking that digit in and out caused Quinn to hump against the table. His tormented cock was only aggravated more when pre-cum slicked against the glass, removing what little friction there was.

“Tell me that you want me.”

“I want you.”

“Tell what you’d be willing to do to have me.”

Quinn was dumbfounded by the question, but an answer popped readily to mind from some place, maybe that secret place, in his soul. “I would give anything to have you.”