Hi…I’m sorry I’ve been away a while, matters have been a mite hectic. I hope you have a lovely weekend.đ„°
My Way
20 Joe
âJoe…lube.â Two words. A world of promise.
âPârapsâŠin the bedside table?â Joe had a vague recollection of stashing some in there, just in case…
He hadn’t met a soul he wanted to share his sanctum with though…so why the bejeezus heâd brought Mac up here without giving it a second thought, Joe knew not. That was a helluva lot like inviting the fox into the chicken coop. Joe was pâraps far too fond of foxes, butâ He quite forgot to finish reasoning his way out of that when Mac switched the bedside lamp on.
Strewth… Joe stared, dazzled by the play of light and shadow making Mac gleam burnished bronze. Every inch as taut and toned as the profile of that oh, so pert posterior. He was a work of art as exquisite as the Bronzi di Riace...as if plucked from his plinth at the Museo Nazionale della Magna Grecia for Joe’s delectation.Â
âI…youâre beautifulâŠâ He could scarce string three words together, let alone rustle up a sentence sans drool.Â
âWhaââ Macâs incredulous expression crumpled into befuddlement when he turned toward Joe, with much the impact of being smacked in the face with a shovel. Stonethebloomincrows.Â
âMac…pleaseâŠâ Joe stuttered, before puttering to a stop. He couldnât think. Or blink. Every muscle tremouring, primed to launch him Macwards, but Joe seemed to be frozen. Even his eyelids. Especially his eyelids.
âTell me what you want…â Macâs voice was whisky-laced cream, as luscious as sunkissed skin lapped by lamplight.
Joe really wasn’t fussed âwhatâ, or âhowâ. The âwhyâ was a no brainer. Only the âwhoâ and âwhenâ mattered: Mac. Now.Â
Tell me what you want…
Joe had been badgering the bad-ass all day, to no avail. What happened to Macâs Way or the Highway? Contrary Mary. Unless…the query was another tricksy torture technique dead-set on driving Joe doolally: Tell me what you want and itâs the last thing youâll get…if youâre lucky. Joe was starting to suspect that the less he asked for, the more he might get.Â
My way. On my terms.Â
Now there was a thought worth thinking. A rare and splendoured thing indeed, so Joe took note: Sidâs My Way would make the perfect encore for next week’s gigs. Joe had been plunged into darkness againâŠso he was musing this while waiting for Mac to return. Chances were, he would soon find himself facing the bedstead, so he wouldnât miss too much Mac-in-all-his-glory, but bummer. The snaffled bandana would make the perfect garter, Ă la Sid…and p’raps he could ask Adam to procure a white tux to wear? Sorted. Just in time, too.Â
âJoeâŠâÂ
The mattress dipped and what felt a lot like a knee brushed Joeâs right thigh, roundabouts where the bandana was to be wrapped. Mac cocked the other leg to straddle Joeâs and bent low, hovering a hairsbreadth above his back. Joe’s skin was a silent scream, shivering with awareness. The press of plush lips to his nape was a brush of blowtorch breath that robbed him of his own.Â
âI am not here to service you. Nor am I a member of your entourage who finds it a privilege to cater to your every whim…sexual or otherwise. I will fight you every step of the way. Never, ever, forget it. I want you…and Iâm taking you. As simple as that.â Macâs voice dripped dark intent; almost as delicious as the promise of his threat.
ââKayâŠâ Joe gasped when that oh, so talented tongue started trickling down his spine.Â
I want you…and Iâm taking you. As simple as that. Joe would agree to whatever dastardly shenanigans Mac dreamed up, and the bad-ass knew it.Â
Firm fingers gripped his hips and tugged, propping Joe on his knees. He was still scrambling up onto his forearms when Mac swept a lavish lick along happy valley. The flare of flame that thrilled through Joeâs veins almost face-planted him into the pillow.Â
âMac…pleaseâŠâ he whimpered, wondering how much longer Mac intended to make him wait. Minutes…hours? Joe was starting to suspect the scoundrel was quite capable of torturing him for days. Weeks!? Iâll die, then heâll be sorry. If only on the deficit of duty front. Demon.
âOh so impatient,â Satanâs spawn sighed. Theatrically. Afore thrusting two slick fingers into Joeâs body.
âAAHH!â Joeâs spine damn near snapped, such was the sizzle of shock to his system. Heâd barely registered Macâs âBetter..?â before the blackguard plunged them deeper, swivelling when he pulled them back, only to surge forth again. âYesss…â Joe hissed when Mac flexed them, sending a white-hot bolt of bliss blistering through his body. Over and over that mind-boggling knot of nerves they wafted ’til Joe was reduced to a writhing wreck. Never more securely shackled…and Mac hadnae even bound him. âFuck me! Pleeease!â Joe screech was still clawing the walls when he was coshed by an ache so hollow he wanted to weep.Â
He couldnât stop the whimper that escaped but how he wished it hadnât. Joe had never felt so…naked, exposed, in his life. Even on stage. Not even by lurid headlines and deer-in-the-headlights snapshots that plastered his fears across the front pages. Writ far too large in eyes that couldn’t hide their truths from a world ever eager to spit in them.
As if it had ever been in doubt, such self-pitying piffle proved all-too well why a man like Mac could never want Joe. Not enough, never enough, to make it imperative to claim Joe as his own. Rather than something he’d get around to when Mac was done amusing himself with his own dastardliness.Â
âYuurrr goinât be the deeth of usâŠâ had scarce sandblasted Joeâs skin when he felt the briefest press about his person. A snatched-off breath before Mac snapped his hips, burying him balls-deep with a sound like sin itself. Grit and gun oil, sand and glue. Soused in sex.Â
Joe had never felt so full. Everywhere. Impossibly so, as if his lungs and heart might burst. Every fibre of his being, filled with Mac. Strong and sure and…staying there; pressed so deep there was nothing, nothing but him. Joe was scared to breathe, perchance Mac…what? Realised what heâd done? Fear cared not a jot for such fripperies as sense.
âJoorrâŠâ One word, wrung from Macâs throat as if it…mattered. That he said it? UnlessâFuck no.
Mac…donât stop…pleaseâŠâ Joe begged, scrunching his eyes as tight as elsewhere. It felt as if his entire self had locked down.
âFâfucksakes! Jor!â Oops. âI cannae see straight, let alone move…â Mac hissed.
âSorryâŠâ Joe blew out a loong breath and…unscrunched matters a mite.
ââKayâŠâ It was with a low whistle that Mac eased back, almost all the way. “Just fâthe recordâŠI donât intend toâŠâ
If only that was as open ended as it sounded. A flight of fancy obliterated by a thrust so fulsome it expelled the air from Joeâs body and made the darkness bleed scarlet. That was the last nugget of nonsense his brain rustled up for quite some time. It was too busy being blissy after that. Too entranced by the ferocity of Macâs focus and panther-hipped prowess. As incomparable as his bad-ass billing.Â
Joeâs entire existence, narrowed to need; to here, now and the man branding him mind, body, soul. Whether Mac intended to, or not…it made no neverminds, when thatâs exactly what he did. Jack-hammer hips pounding with fearsome finesse, fingers gripping tight enough to paint their imprints in rainbow hues for days. Grinding ever deeper, driving Joe to the very edge of himself, and beyond, beyond the bounds of reason why and why not, when there was only thisss. Him. Mac. Meanest Jo-fo on Earth or thereabouts. Hereabouts…and how.
âThis what you wanted?â Mac growled, slamming himself home. Ratcheting the impossible pressure another notch or ninety. Heavy heat radiating from the base of his spine to spark along its length like a test-your-strength dinger dead-set on hitting the jackpot.Â
âYESSS!â Joe gasped. A response that pretty much assured Mac would promptly pull out. All the way.Â
âMaââ Joeâs protest was cut short when the scoundrel grasped his right thigh and tugged. Hard. Toppling Joe onto his side…flat on his back. Mac had no sooner hooked a leg over each sinewy shoulder than came the blunt nudge Joe craved. More intensely than smack in that moment, a miracle in itself. Heâd barely got his bearings but his body welcomed Mac as if it had been starved for a lifetime. Now it knew that it had. ‘Twill be hell to live in after this.
âMAC!â Joe gasped, tightening his ankles to force him deeper still. âMoreâŠâ
âNot had enough yet?â His bad-ass rasped, pressing forwards, pushing Joeâs thighs towards his chest, folding him in half.Â
âNever…â Oops. That was a mite too much info. Um, it could mean ‘more’? Not never-forever.
âYou might wish youâd never said thatâŠâ Mac muttered, hefting Joe a mite higher and shifting a smidge to rattle off short sharp thrusts that blitzed Joe’s system with sparks of pleasure…as potent, sure, strong, as the man in complete control of the havoc he wreaked. On Joe, who was an utter mess. A sweaty, sodden mess, fringe stuck to his forehead, fists snarled in the sheets. Squirming like a wanton wench in a bodice ripper. All breathless pleas, raggedy gasps…and strangled cat sounds heâd never made in his life.
âM-m-ah! Ach! Pleease…”Â
âSurrendering already?â
Joe could hear Macâs dastardly grin when he rolled those lethal hips. Demon. âYesâŠâ Joe sighed, all out of wherewithal for wit. It was all he could do to unfurl his fingers and relinquish the sheet in order to reachâ
âNo.â Mac barked.
NoâŠ? NO?Â
âBu…but Mac!â Joe wailed. Stupid, stupid, stinging burning his eyeballs.
They all-but plopped on the bed when his cock was encompassed in a tenderfierce clasp as brutal as barbed wire. As staggering as the word that ripped from Mac’s lips. âMineâŠâ
A single syllable that ricocheted round Joeâs head, swallowing its own echo, making less and less sense with every sweep of Mac’s wrist. In perfect simpatico with that serpentine spine in a melody so sublime, it would haunt Joe forever.
The only better there could possibly be, was letting go of the impossible pressure. Teetering on the brink of maddening pleasure, desperate with desire, drunk on lust.Â
âMaac!â His name, of course his name, in the throes of white-hot bliss. There was no more than him. The inescapable agent of Joeâs doom. He was well and truly buggered. In every way. Ah well…
Best not go down without a fight tho’…the bad-ass had a reputation to preserve, after all.Â
***
Joeâs skin was a silent scream, shivering with awareness. The press of plush lips to his nape was a brush of blowtorch breath that robbed him of his own.Â
âI am not here to service you. Nor am I a member of your entourage who finds it a privilege to cater to your every whimâŠsexual or otherwise. I will fight you every step of the way. Never, ever, forget it. I want youâŠand Iâm taking you. As simple as that.â Macâs voice dripped dark intent; almost as delicious as the promise of his threat.
Gods above and below you know how to reduce me to a pool of hot sticky fudge sauce on the floor m’lady! XD
And then have me giggling like a loon with Joe’s petulant little: Weeks!? Iâll die, then heâll be sorry. If only on the deficit of duty front. Demon. XD XD XD
And now my heart is breaking….
He couldnât stop the whimper that escaped but how he wished it hadnât. Joe had never felt soâŠnaked, exposed, in his life. Even on stage. Not even by lurid headlines and deer-in-the-headlights snapshots that plastered his fears across the front pages. Writ far too large in eyes that couldnât hide their truths from a world ever eager to spit in them.
As if it had ever been in doubt, such self-pitying piffle proved all-too well why a man like Mac could never want Joe. Not enough, never enough, to make it imperative to claim Joe as his own. Rather than something heâd get around to when Mac was done amusing himself with his own dastardliness.Â
Oh Joe! Bless him! Sob! Heart-melt!
And then this is just so lush… A snatched-off breath before Mac snapped his hips, burying him balls-deep with a sound like sin itself. Grit and gun oil, sand and glue. Soused in sex.Â
And all that comes after it is bad-ass-bliss; a deadly dance of power and need executed exquisitely as always! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
LikeLiked by 2 people
đđ Yay! XD I’m chuffed t’bits it was a tad funny toođ Aww..thank you for every lovely word Hmm… ‘bad-ass-bliss’sounds luscious XD Oooh and this:
a deadly dance of power and need executed exquisitely as always!
đ»đ»đ»
I couldn’t be more tickled pink my scrumptious strudle…and it’s utterly lovely to see you, as always. â€ïžđ„°â€ïžxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
LikeLiked by 1 person