Paid In Full
Title: Paid In Full
Pairing: DM/EW, DM/BB
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction, no disrespect intended.
Notes: #7, for samena.
The dirty, red-brick, two-storey building has no outward sign of what it contains, besides a number on the door that corresponds to the one Dom has written down on the paper in his hand, and a small sigil that Dom thinks he remembers seeing somewhere before, but it seems to blur and weave when he squints at it, so he gives up, wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, and rings the bell.
The man who answers has dark hair, blue eyes, and a charming, gap-toothed smile. “Hi, I’m Elijah,” he says immediately, holding the door open wide in invitation. “You must be Dominic.”
“Yeah,” Dom says, still a little unsettled, not really sure of what he’s getting himself into. He’d expected a fat, ugly man with a leer, or even a disgusting old man with wrinkles and gnarled, lecherous hands, but not this. Elijah’s handshake is warm and firm, and he ushers Dom inside with a business-like air of professionalism.
“You’ve brought everything I asked?” Elijah asks, pausing to open up a ledger on a nearby counter. Dom nods, looking around. Elijah appears to live here as well as work; the room is a combination of sitting room and office, with a bookshelf of faded tomes and neat rows of 3-ring binders labeled with dates and foreign symbols. Dom’s gaze takes in the green couch and the bare coffee table before jerking back to Elijah guiltily.
“Yeah, it’s right…” Dom fumbles with his wallet, producing one of Billy’s fine blond hairs, stolen from the comb in the bathroom. Elijah drops it neatly into an envelope, and then accepts and counts the stack of bills that Dom offers next.
“Excellent,” Elijah says cheerfully. “Now let’s make this official, shall we? Would you please state your name, today’s date, and what you’ve come here for. As clearly as possible, in your own words.” He presses ‘record’ on a small tape recorder on the counter, and Dom clears his throat nervously before speaking.
“Dominic Monaghan, April 19th, uh, 2006, and I want…” He takes a deep breath, gathering determination. “I want to know if my lover is cheating on me.”
Elijah purses his lips looking faintly amused. “You do realize what this transaction entails. If fidelity is an issue…”
“It’s not,” Dom says quickly, and then shakes his head. “I mean, it is, obviously, but…I just need to know.”
“Right then.” Elijah clicks ‘stop’ and turns the ledger around to face Dom, running his finger down the page and offering a ballpoint pen. “Now if you’d please read this and sign on the line below, indicating that you have read this document and understand fully what it entails, we can begin.”
Dom swallows, and tries to concentrate on the words in front of him, although his heart is starting to pound and he’s sweating with nerves. The document basically lays out what Elijah had told him on the phone; his legal rights, his agreement not to press charges against Elijah or his business, his understanding that Elijah might not be able to fully grant Dom’s request but would try to the best of his ability, and acknowledgement that no part of the payment would be refunded, no matter what the result.
“That’s all for legal protection,” Elijah assures him, as Dom’s hand hovers uncertainly over the document. “It’s very rare that I can’t deliver to a client’s satisfaction, especially in a simple matter like this, and if for any reason something goes wrong not under my control, I’ll refund your money. Do you have any further questions?”
“No,” Dom says firmly, and signs.
“Excellent,” Elijah says again, and shuts the ledger, placing it beneath the counter out of sight. “Now if you’ll come with me, we can get started. Do you have any medical issues I should be aware of before we begin, allergies or health concerns?”
“No,” Dom answers. He fumbles out the medical paperwork Elijah had required, and Elijah scans it briefly before nodding and gesturing for Dom to precede him.
“Right through the curtain,” Elijah directs, and Dom pushes the rows of glittering beads aside and walks into the room where it all happens.
There’s a futon instead of a proper bed, but it’s bedecked with pillows and surrounded by mysterious jars and bottles, all laid out within easy reach of the futon. Elijah’s hand brushes the small of his back when Dom falters, guiding him forward to settle on the futon.
“Take your clothes off, stretch out on your back and raise your hands above your head, please,” Elijah requests, and Dom does so slowly, knowing that he’s about to reach the point of no return. He knows he wants to go through with this, and has no intention of changing his mind, honestly, but the reality of it…it’s a little more unsettling than the idea.
“Now, I’m going to put straps around your wrists,” Elijah continues, kneeling half-over Dom and reaching above him. “They won’t hurt, but you won’t be able to remove them, and I won’t release you until the ritual is over.”
Dom swallows, closing his eyes briefly. He hears the jingle of chain and hastily opens them again, focusing on Elijah’s profile as gentle hands wrap leather around his wrists, binding him in place. “Is this really necessary?” he asks tentatively. Elijah smiles reassuringly, buckling the last strap and sitting back on his heels.
“It’s part of the ritual. It proves your intent and willingness to participate, and is also for your safety,” Elijah replies soothingly, spreading Dom’s legs and strapping his ankles as well, this time to a wooden bar covered in carved symbols. “At no point will I hurt you, but some of the sensations can be a little overwhelming at first, and if you panic it could upset the ritual at a delicate point. I promise, this is completely routine, and you are absolutely safe.”
Dom closes his eyes again, but opens them at the feather-touch of skin against his. Elijah smiles at him, fingertips trailing gently over his arm, and then reaches for a jar. “If you have any questions as we go, please feel free to ask,” Elijah says, unscrewing the lid of the jar and dipping his fingers inside. “I’ll do my best to answer them.”
Elijah rubs his palms together, working whatever is in the jar over his hands. Dom opens his mouth, and shuts it again with a snap when Elijah presses his palms to Dom’s chest below his collarbone and slowly drags them down, leaving a tingling trail of sensation and silk-soft oil in his wake. Dom inhales sharply, adjusting, and Elijah does it again, this time spreading his hands outward from Dom’s sternum, all the way down his chest.
“What’s this?” Dom whispers, a little embarrassed at how quickly he’s gotten hard just from this simple touch, but Elijah doesn’t smirk at him or snicker, just smoothes his palms over Dom’s hips and thighs, working down his body.
“Just the warm-up. Heightens sensation, and focuses your energy where I want it.” Elijah smiles again, and then wipes his hands on a towel and picks up a knife. Dom starts, tugging reflexively against his bound wrists with an abrupt sense of panic. Elijah’s smile widens slightly and he shakes his head, picking up a plant from nearby and cutting off a few of the leaves.
“It’s not for you. These are, but they have to be cut fresh.” Elijah chops the leaves smoothly and holds his hand cupped next to Dom’s mouth, smiling reassuringly. “It’s an aphrodisiac. Chew and swallow.”
“I don’t think I need an aphrodisiac,” Dom comments, cheeks burning, but Elijah just laughs and tips the handful into Dom’s mouth, eyes glinting with mischief.
“You will, trust me.” Elijah winks, and turns to other preparations. Dom raises his eyebrows at that pronouncement, but chews obediently anyway, curious. The leaves are bitter and sharp, and he grimaces when he swallows, but almost immediately he feels a dull tingle, not unlike when Elijah had spread the oil over his chest and thighs.
“I think it’s working,” he says, just as his cock throbs a little in hopeful anticipation. He blinks, and watches the room spin a little before it settles again.
Elijah chuckles. “I know it is,” he replies, low and sensuous suddenly, and Dom arches hopefully, the tingling starting to coalesce into a low burn. “Now hold very still, this needs to be precise.”
Dom stills and watches, fascinated, as Elijah dips his fingers into another jar, this one smaller and made of glass, and carefully spreads thick paint over Dom’s torso, shaping sigils and lines. It tickles, but the paint is cool, and Dom manages to hold still even when Elijah daubs his nipples and presses inside his navel.
“Perfect,” Elijah proclaims absently, and then takes out the little envelope containing Billy’s hair, and shakes it loose into a clay bowl. Dom feels a momentary stab of guilt, but his resolution is even stronger now, and the need to know, for certain, is burning in him as strongly as Elijah’s potions.
“Now,” Elijah says with a wicked little smile, and arranges himself between Dom’s legs, fingers dipping into the oil jar again before wrapping around Dom’s cock and stroking.
Dom nearly arches off of the futon in shock, his entire body suddenly leaping into tingling awareness, his cock on fire with whatever Elijah has used to anoint him, and he’s begging before he realizes it, a stream of pleas for relief.
“Don’t fuck please oh god stop,” Dom begs, voice shaking. Elijah strokes him once more and then bends his head, eyes locking with Dom’s briefly before he takes Dom’s cock into his mouth.
“Fuck!” Dom screams, arching harder this time but still bound by the straps, unable to do more than writhe helplessly while Elijah’s hot wet mouth sets off fireworks in his cock and balls. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to last more than a few seconds, but Elijah is good, and Dom can’t get quite enough pressure for relief, just the curling tease of a skilled tongue and soft suction that isn’t enough to let him come.
Elijah’s hand finds his balls, kneading and rolling them, and then it’s too much, everything at once, and Elijah slides down to take him in deep when the world finally fragments and Dom comes so hard his vision goes white.
Elijah doesn’t let him go immediately, stroking his cock at the base and suckling firmly until it hurts, and Dom whimpers, struggling weakly to get away from the suction. Elijah lets him go then, sitting up and spitting into the bowl containing Billy’s hair. Dom moans limply, head lolling to watch, breathing hard, nerves still snapping and sizzling.
“What are you doing?” he asks dazedly, feeling the tingle travel up his body and settle in his nipples, making them ache.
“Divining,” Elijah replies succinctly, stirring the contents of the bowl with the handle of his knife. After a moment he exhales, visibly shaking something off, and sets the bowl down. Dom’s eyes follow his movements a little sluggishly, vaguely curious still but for the most part too drugged on sensation to care. Elijah grins at him like he knows what Dom is feeling, and then his fingers dip into the oil again, and Dom blinks in surprise as two of them find his entrance and ease inside.
“Encouragement,” Elijah explains, eyeing Dom’s flaccid cock, and Dom shakes his head, dizzy but certain.
“I can’t,” he protests, although his body isn’t complaining, yielding to Elijah’s slender fingers and opening to him as the oil starts to tingle and burn. “Not this soon.”
“That’s what the leaves were for,” Elijah assures him, winking, and picks up a knobbed stick, smooth from use with rows of symbols carved along the length of it, a few inches around and at least a foot long.
Dom’s eyes widen, but he shakes his head again, his cock still limp. “I can’t,” he insists, and then Elijah’s smile widens and his fingers crook - once, twice - and pleasure explodes along Dom’s nerves, the tight ache in his nipples unraveling suddenly to flood through his body and pool in his cock, which amazingly starts to harden.
“See? You can,” Elijah assures him, fingers slipping out to be wiped on the towel again, and then there’s something else against his entrance, pushing slowly but relentlessly in, something much thicker and harder than Elijah’s fingers.
“Oh no,” Dom groans, his muscles clamping and releasing and tightening again, fighting automatically as the wood sinks deeper inside. “Oh god, no…”
“Just relax,” Elijah murmurs, and twists the stick when it lodges, which sets off a chain reaction of shooting sparks and an incredible dull ache throughout Dom’s body.
“Fuck,” he whispers softly, the wood heavy and hard inside of him, unyielding and impervious to the helpless clench of his muscles around it. Elijah stands up smoothly, shrugging off his shirt and undoing the simple knot holding his drawstring trousers up, emerging naked and beautiful, cock hanging softly between his legs.
“What are you doing?” Dom asks groggily, everything centered now around the hard length inside him, somehow sapping and dulling the brighter sparks of the aphrodisiac and the oil still coating his skin. It doesn’t hurt, but it aches, and he can’t seem to focus on anything but the wood and the prickly heat in his cock, which seems unbothered by the lax helplessness of the rest of his body. “Is this part of the ritual?”
Elijah smiles, and his hand settles on Dom’s cock, stroking once, twice, as if testing his hardness. “No,” he answers finally, sounding satisfied, and gives Dom a wicked grin and a wink. “This is part of the payment.”
Some very distant part of Dom remembers agreeing to this as well, although he hadn’t really understood at the time what Elijah had meant, but his attention is suddenly yanked back and shattered by the feel of Elijah over him, slowly sinking down until Dom’s cock is completely sheathed inside incredible tight heat, and Dom almost bites through his tongue to keep from screaming.
Elijah rises and falls, one smooth movement, and Dom jerks, moaning helplessly, jolting their bodies together. Elijah gasps, head falling back, and does it again, rise-and-fall that drags him with almost-painful friction along the entire length of Dom’s cock.
Dom’s hips snap up more aggressively this time, and the wood stabs inside him with shocking abruptness. Elijah moans, rising again, and Dom ignores the dull pain of being impaled for the pleasure of thrusting as hard as he can on Elijah’s down-stroke.
“Yes,” Elijah cries, and one hand drops behind his back, taking hold of the stick and twisting it so that Dom sees stars, before drawing it out and plunging back in, in exquisitely torturous rhythm with their coupling.
Dom snarls, torn between the fierce, sharp desire to fuck Elijah, hard, and the dull creeping ache of the wood sapping his energy, leaving him weak and more drained with every deep push inside.
“Come,” Elijah gasps, and Dom tries to twist, to escape the helpless feeling as Elijah drives the heavy wood home again and envelops Dom’s cock in his body, and Dom is fracturing, fucking-fucked, while whatever is in the wood soaks up his spirit and Elijah pulls the rest out of him with long, slow strokes, until he doesn’t have anywhere else to go and orgasm rushes over him in a wave, and something snaps, a string pulled tight from his balls through his cock into Elijah, and he goes utterly, shudderingly limp.
Elijah falls forward and catches himself on Dom’s chest, breathing deeply for a moment before moaning, and shifts so that Dom’s softening cock slides free. Dom doesn’t even have the strength left to fight, when Elijah reaches between his legs and slowly pulls the carved wood free.
“What have you done to me?” Dom asks thickly, his tongue swollen and uncooperative. Elijah undoes the straps binding his wrists and ankles, and pulls on a robe lying next to the futon with shaking hands.
“Taken some of your essence, your life-energy. Not too much, you’ll be fine. But you’ll probably feel a bit groggy for a while, and you won’t be able to get hard for a couple of days.” Elijah runs a hand through his hair, looking as dazed as Dom feels, and Dom swallows.
“And Billy?” he asks reluctantly, wondering what he now hopes the answer will be.
“Faithful. I can bind him to you as well, if you like, but that’s a more complicated ritual and would cost you a lot more.” Elijah appears to have his composure back, once more the soft-eyed and smiling young man Dom had met at the door. “I won’t be able to do it for another week, at least, so you have some time to think about it.”
Dom nods, a little overwhelmed with relief at the answer, and guilt at what he’d done to receive it. “Thank you,” he says awkwardly, because after what they’ve just done, it feels somehow inadequate.
“No problem.” Elijah smiles, but Dom can see tiredness creeping in. “You’re paid in full, Mr. Monaghan. Thank you for your patronage…” His smile flashes wider, teasing. “And do come again.”
Pairing: DM/EW, DM/BB
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction, no disrespect intended.
Notes: #7, for samena.
The dirty, red-brick, two-storey building has no outward sign of what it contains, besides a number on the door that corresponds to the one Dom has written down on the paper in his hand, and a small sigil that Dom thinks he remembers seeing somewhere before, but it seems to blur and weave when he squints at it, so he gives up, wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, and rings the bell.
The man who answers has dark hair, blue eyes, and a charming, gap-toothed smile. “Hi, I’m Elijah,” he says immediately, holding the door open wide in invitation. “You must be Dominic.”
“Yeah,” Dom says, still a little unsettled, not really sure of what he’s getting himself into. He’d expected a fat, ugly man with a leer, or even a disgusting old man with wrinkles and gnarled, lecherous hands, but not this. Elijah’s handshake is warm and firm, and he ushers Dom inside with a business-like air of professionalism.
“You’ve brought everything I asked?” Elijah asks, pausing to open up a ledger on a nearby counter. Dom nods, looking around. Elijah appears to live here as well as work; the room is a combination of sitting room and office, with a bookshelf of faded tomes and neat rows of 3-ring binders labeled with dates and foreign symbols. Dom’s gaze takes in the green couch and the bare coffee table before jerking back to Elijah guiltily.
“Yeah, it’s right…” Dom fumbles with his wallet, producing one of Billy’s fine blond hairs, stolen from the comb in the bathroom. Elijah drops it neatly into an envelope, and then accepts and counts the stack of bills that Dom offers next.
“Excellent,” Elijah says cheerfully. “Now let’s make this official, shall we? Would you please state your name, today’s date, and what you’ve come here for. As clearly as possible, in your own words.” He presses ‘record’ on a small tape recorder on the counter, and Dom clears his throat nervously before speaking.
“Dominic Monaghan, April 19th, uh, 2006, and I want…” He takes a deep breath, gathering determination. “I want to know if my lover is cheating on me.”
Elijah purses his lips looking faintly amused. “You do realize what this transaction entails. If fidelity is an issue…”
“It’s not,” Dom says quickly, and then shakes his head. “I mean, it is, obviously, but…I just need to know.”
“Right then.” Elijah clicks ‘stop’ and turns the ledger around to face Dom, running his finger down the page and offering a ballpoint pen. “Now if you’d please read this and sign on the line below, indicating that you have read this document and understand fully what it entails, we can begin.”
Dom swallows, and tries to concentrate on the words in front of him, although his heart is starting to pound and he’s sweating with nerves. The document basically lays out what Elijah had told him on the phone; his legal rights, his agreement not to press charges against Elijah or his business, his understanding that Elijah might not be able to fully grant Dom’s request but would try to the best of his ability, and acknowledgement that no part of the payment would be refunded, no matter what the result.
“That’s all for legal protection,” Elijah assures him, as Dom’s hand hovers uncertainly over the document. “It’s very rare that I can’t deliver to a client’s satisfaction, especially in a simple matter like this, and if for any reason something goes wrong not under my control, I’ll refund your money. Do you have any further questions?”
“No,” Dom says firmly, and signs.
“Excellent,” Elijah says again, and shuts the ledger, placing it beneath the counter out of sight. “Now if you’ll come with me, we can get started. Do you have any medical issues I should be aware of before we begin, allergies or health concerns?”
“No,” Dom answers. He fumbles out the medical paperwork Elijah had required, and Elijah scans it briefly before nodding and gesturing for Dom to precede him.
“Right through the curtain,” Elijah directs, and Dom pushes the rows of glittering beads aside and walks into the room where it all happens.
There’s a futon instead of a proper bed, but it’s bedecked with pillows and surrounded by mysterious jars and bottles, all laid out within easy reach of the futon. Elijah’s hand brushes the small of his back when Dom falters, guiding him forward to settle on the futon.
“Take your clothes off, stretch out on your back and raise your hands above your head, please,” Elijah requests, and Dom does so slowly, knowing that he’s about to reach the point of no return. He knows he wants to go through with this, and has no intention of changing his mind, honestly, but the reality of it…it’s a little more unsettling than the idea.
“Now, I’m going to put straps around your wrists,” Elijah continues, kneeling half-over Dom and reaching above him. “They won’t hurt, but you won’t be able to remove them, and I won’t release you until the ritual is over.”
Dom swallows, closing his eyes briefly. He hears the jingle of chain and hastily opens them again, focusing on Elijah’s profile as gentle hands wrap leather around his wrists, binding him in place. “Is this really necessary?” he asks tentatively. Elijah smiles reassuringly, buckling the last strap and sitting back on his heels.
“It’s part of the ritual. It proves your intent and willingness to participate, and is also for your safety,” Elijah replies soothingly, spreading Dom’s legs and strapping his ankles as well, this time to a wooden bar covered in carved symbols. “At no point will I hurt you, but some of the sensations can be a little overwhelming at first, and if you panic it could upset the ritual at a delicate point. I promise, this is completely routine, and you are absolutely safe.”
Dom closes his eyes again, but opens them at the feather-touch of skin against his. Elijah smiles at him, fingertips trailing gently over his arm, and then reaches for a jar. “If you have any questions as we go, please feel free to ask,” Elijah says, unscrewing the lid of the jar and dipping his fingers inside. “I’ll do my best to answer them.”
Elijah rubs his palms together, working whatever is in the jar over his hands. Dom opens his mouth, and shuts it again with a snap when Elijah presses his palms to Dom’s chest below his collarbone and slowly drags them down, leaving a tingling trail of sensation and silk-soft oil in his wake. Dom inhales sharply, adjusting, and Elijah does it again, this time spreading his hands outward from Dom’s sternum, all the way down his chest.
“What’s this?” Dom whispers, a little embarrassed at how quickly he’s gotten hard just from this simple touch, but Elijah doesn’t smirk at him or snicker, just smoothes his palms over Dom’s hips and thighs, working down his body.
“Just the warm-up. Heightens sensation, and focuses your energy where I want it.” Elijah smiles again, and then wipes his hands on a towel and picks up a knife. Dom starts, tugging reflexively against his bound wrists with an abrupt sense of panic. Elijah’s smile widens slightly and he shakes his head, picking up a plant from nearby and cutting off a few of the leaves.
“It’s not for you. These are, but they have to be cut fresh.” Elijah chops the leaves smoothly and holds his hand cupped next to Dom’s mouth, smiling reassuringly. “It’s an aphrodisiac. Chew and swallow.”
“I don’t think I need an aphrodisiac,” Dom comments, cheeks burning, but Elijah just laughs and tips the handful into Dom’s mouth, eyes glinting with mischief.
“You will, trust me.” Elijah winks, and turns to other preparations. Dom raises his eyebrows at that pronouncement, but chews obediently anyway, curious. The leaves are bitter and sharp, and he grimaces when he swallows, but almost immediately he feels a dull tingle, not unlike when Elijah had spread the oil over his chest and thighs.
“I think it’s working,” he says, just as his cock throbs a little in hopeful anticipation. He blinks, and watches the room spin a little before it settles again.
Elijah chuckles. “I know it is,” he replies, low and sensuous suddenly, and Dom arches hopefully, the tingling starting to coalesce into a low burn. “Now hold very still, this needs to be precise.”
Dom stills and watches, fascinated, as Elijah dips his fingers into another jar, this one smaller and made of glass, and carefully spreads thick paint over Dom’s torso, shaping sigils and lines. It tickles, but the paint is cool, and Dom manages to hold still even when Elijah daubs his nipples and presses inside his navel.
“Perfect,” Elijah proclaims absently, and then takes out the little envelope containing Billy’s hair, and shakes it loose into a clay bowl. Dom feels a momentary stab of guilt, but his resolution is even stronger now, and the need to know, for certain, is burning in him as strongly as Elijah’s potions.
“Now,” Elijah says with a wicked little smile, and arranges himself between Dom’s legs, fingers dipping into the oil jar again before wrapping around Dom’s cock and stroking.
Dom nearly arches off of the futon in shock, his entire body suddenly leaping into tingling awareness, his cock on fire with whatever Elijah has used to anoint him, and he’s begging before he realizes it, a stream of pleas for relief.
“Don’t fuck please oh god stop,” Dom begs, voice shaking. Elijah strokes him once more and then bends his head, eyes locking with Dom’s briefly before he takes Dom’s cock into his mouth.
“Fuck!” Dom screams, arching harder this time but still bound by the straps, unable to do more than writhe helplessly while Elijah’s hot wet mouth sets off fireworks in his cock and balls. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to last more than a few seconds, but Elijah is good, and Dom can’t get quite enough pressure for relief, just the curling tease of a skilled tongue and soft suction that isn’t enough to let him come.
Elijah’s hand finds his balls, kneading and rolling them, and then it’s too much, everything at once, and Elijah slides down to take him in deep when the world finally fragments and Dom comes so hard his vision goes white.
Elijah doesn’t let him go immediately, stroking his cock at the base and suckling firmly until it hurts, and Dom whimpers, struggling weakly to get away from the suction. Elijah lets him go then, sitting up and spitting into the bowl containing Billy’s hair. Dom moans limply, head lolling to watch, breathing hard, nerves still snapping and sizzling.
“What are you doing?” he asks dazedly, feeling the tingle travel up his body and settle in his nipples, making them ache.
“Divining,” Elijah replies succinctly, stirring the contents of the bowl with the handle of his knife. After a moment he exhales, visibly shaking something off, and sets the bowl down. Dom’s eyes follow his movements a little sluggishly, vaguely curious still but for the most part too drugged on sensation to care. Elijah grins at him like he knows what Dom is feeling, and then his fingers dip into the oil again, and Dom blinks in surprise as two of them find his entrance and ease inside.
“Encouragement,” Elijah explains, eyeing Dom’s flaccid cock, and Dom shakes his head, dizzy but certain.
“I can’t,” he protests, although his body isn’t complaining, yielding to Elijah’s slender fingers and opening to him as the oil starts to tingle and burn. “Not this soon.”
“That’s what the leaves were for,” Elijah assures him, winking, and picks up a knobbed stick, smooth from use with rows of symbols carved along the length of it, a few inches around and at least a foot long.
Dom’s eyes widen, but he shakes his head again, his cock still limp. “I can’t,” he insists, and then Elijah’s smile widens and his fingers crook - once, twice - and pleasure explodes along Dom’s nerves, the tight ache in his nipples unraveling suddenly to flood through his body and pool in his cock, which amazingly starts to harden.
“See? You can,” Elijah assures him, fingers slipping out to be wiped on the towel again, and then there’s something else against his entrance, pushing slowly but relentlessly in, something much thicker and harder than Elijah’s fingers.
“Oh no,” Dom groans, his muscles clamping and releasing and tightening again, fighting automatically as the wood sinks deeper inside. “Oh god, no…”
“Just relax,” Elijah murmurs, and twists the stick when it lodges, which sets off a chain reaction of shooting sparks and an incredible dull ache throughout Dom’s body.
“Fuck,” he whispers softly, the wood heavy and hard inside of him, unyielding and impervious to the helpless clench of his muscles around it. Elijah stands up smoothly, shrugging off his shirt and undoing the simple knot holding his drawstring trousers up, emerging naked and beautiful, cock hanging softly between his legs.
“What are you doing?” Dom asks groggily, everything centered now around the hard length inside him, somehow sapping and dulling the brighter sparks of the aphrodisiac and the oil still coating his skin. It doesn’t hurt, but it aches, and he can’t seem to focus on anything but the wood and the prickly heat in his cock, which seems unbothered by the lax helplessness of the rest of his body. “Is this part of the ritual?”
Elijah smiles, and his hand settles on Dom’s cock, stroking once, twice, as if testing his hardness. “No,” he answers finally, sounding satisfied, and gives Dom a wicked grin and a wink. “This is part of the payment.”
Some very distant part of Dom remembers agreeing to this as well, although he hadn’t really understood at the time what Elijah had meant, but his attention is suddenly yanked back and shattered by the feel of Elijah over him, slowly sinking down until Dom’s cock is completely sheathed inside incredible tight heat, and Dom almost bites through his tongue to keep from screaming.
Elijah rises and falls, one smooth movement, and Dom jerks, moaning helplessly, jolting their bodies together. Elijah gasps, head falling back, and does it again, rise-and-fall that drags him with almost-painful friction along the entire length of Dom’s cock.
Dom’s hips snap up more aggressively this time, and the wood stabs inside him with shocking abruptness. Elijah moans, rising again, and Dom ignores the dull pain of being impaled for the pleasure of thrusting as hard as he can on Elijah’s down-stroke.
“Yes,” Elijah cries, and one hand drops behind his back, taking hold of the stick and twisting it so that Dom sees stars, before drawing it out and plunging back in, in exquisitely torturous rhythm with their coupling.
Dom snarls, torn between the fierce, sharp desire to fuck Elijah, hard, and the dull creeping ache of the wood sapping his energy, leaving him weak and more drained with every deep push inside.
“Come,” Elijah gasps, and Dom tries to twist, to escape the helpless feeling as Elijah drives the heavy wood home again and envelops Dom’s cock in his body, and Dom is fracturing, fucking-fucked, while whatever is in the wood soaks up his spirit and Elijah pulls the rest out of him with long, slow strokes, until he doesn’t have anywhere else to go and orgasm rushes over him in a wave, and something snaps, a string pulled tight from his balls through his cock into Elijah, and he goes utterly, shudderingly limp.
Elijah falls forward and catches himself on Dom’s chest, breathing deeply for a moment before moaning, and shifts so that Dom’s softening cock slides free. Dom doesn’t even have the strength left to fight, when Elijah reaches between his legs and slowly pulls the carved wood free.
“What have you done to me?” Dom asks thickly, his tongue swollen and uncooperative. Elijah undoes the straps binding his wrists and ankles, and pulls on a robe lying next to the futon with shaking hands.
“Taken some of your essence, your life-energy. Not too much, you’ll be fine. But you’ll probably feel a bit groggy for a while, and you won’t be able to get hard for a couple of days.” Elijah runs a hand through his hair, looking as dazed as Dom feels, and Dom swallows.
“And Billy?” he asks reluctantly, wondering what he now hopes the answer will be.
“Faithful. I can bind him to you as well, if you like, but that’s a more complicated ritual and would cost you a lot more.” Elijah appears to have his composure back, once more the soft-eyed and smiling young man Dom had met at the door. “I won’t be able to do it for another week, at least, so you have some time to think about it.”
Dom nods, a little overwhelmed with relief at the answer, and guilt at what he’d done to receive it. “Thank you,” he says awkwardly, because after what they’ve just done, it feels somehow inadequate.
“No problem.” Elijah smiles, but Dom can see tiredness creeping in. “You’re paid in full, Mr. Monaghan. Thank you for your patronage…” His smile flashes wider, teasing. “And do come again.”