Texas II part 23
This is short, but appropriately so...*tearful*
Title: Texas II
Fandom: Slave fic
Summary: Sequel to Texas. Everything is perfect now, right? This is Texas.
Rating: NC-17, Adult, FRAO, and any other rating that says not for kiddies!!
The gorgeous dark eyes regarded him. Sal could see a hint of sympathy. “Please,” He choked, “One last time, beautiful.”
His heart pounded heavily as he waited for Paul to respond.
*~*
Paul’s heart was in his throat. He wanted to hate the trembling man at his feet. What a concept to have someone kneel before him. It was strange, uncomfortable, and intriguing. He could spurn Alonzo, he had his freedom. He could walk away and never look back.
The blonde head was bowed and he could not see the blue eyes. The eyes that had shown with lust, with sympathy, with pride, with longing, with anger, with gentleness, with laughter, and with love. Love. Sal taught him love just as he had betrayal. Could there still be love without trust?
He filled his hands with the blonde locks and lifted those bright blue eyes to his own. Blue eyes that glittered with tears, with pain, with remorse, and yes, with love.
“Sal,” His voice was hoarse in his own ears. “One last time, master”
He stepped back as the man got to his feet and cupped his face within the broad palms, “This last time, my love, my beautiful, beautiful boy.”
*~*
Sal wanted memorize this last moment as Paul sighed and lifted his beautiful mouth. With a groan, Sal let their mouths connect even as their hearts did. In this moment the pain, the loss, the betrayal, the abduction never happened. He had his boy, his love in his arms.
He uncovered the soft, silky skin slowly. As he dropped the t-shirt away, he noticed that the rings were no longer in his skin. He trailed his mouth over the downy neck and cupped Paul’s ass bringing their bodies closer. His primal urge to claim crowed at the echoing erection against his hip. He wanted to strip the boy and claim him and never let him go.
Instead he dropped to his knees and slid the denim away taking in the proud cock, still strange without its nest of curls, but no rings or chains adorned the flesh. He helped Paul step out of his pants and shoes. He leaned forward and kissed the broad head in supplication.
“Sal,” Paul hissed and the boy’s hands went into his hair. He looked up and met the dark mysterious gaze. Wrapping his arms around the slender, trembling thighs he opened his mouth and took the throbbing flesh inside. But he was still.
Paul choked and gained an understanding of what he wanted. He wanted the boy to use his mouth, to take his pleasure from him as he had taken his pleasure over and over from the glorious body he held. Paul began his assault slowly which allowed him to trail his tongue over the distended veins and to suck at the leaking head. But Paul growled lowly and the thrusts became harder and faster, Sal opened his throat and took it. Took the fucking because he deserved it, he took it because Paul needed it.
The cum streaming down his throat was a fix for an addiction. His heart pounded at the thought of never tasting his boy again, but he pushed it away. He would have his time to mourn after; he couldn’t breathe, after his boy was gone.
He lifted the naked body and felt Paul curl into him, as they had so many times; it was familiar and odd at the same time. He placed him on the bed, their bed, his mind argued. The hooded brown eyes never left his as he stripped quickly. He felt uncertain as he once again took in the form lying on golden sheets. Paul seemed to take pity on him when he lifted his arms. Tears burned as he settled against the warm body and the slender arms held him close. He placed a gentle kiss over Paul’s heart before kissing him deeply. His body was crying out for release but he didn’t want to lose the intimate connection. Paul had allowed him in and was returning the kiss, their tongues entwining.
Paul pulled back and panted, “Sal, ple...” He trailed off and bit his lip.
He pressed his lips against the delicate ear and whispered, “Shhhh, beautiful, I’m not going to make you beg. I’m yours, tell me what you want.”
He saw the flare of anger before Paul’s mouth crushed against his own. “Fuck me, Salvatore.” The voice was almost a growl, a demand.
He wanted to feast upon the flesh splayed out before him as he worked the tight hole open. But that was the right of a master, a lover, a partner. And as he slid home, he knew that it was over. The wonderful heat of Paul’s body welcomed him even as he slowly began distancing himself. His eyes dimmed as he released his seed.
As they curled together, he placed a gentle kiss against the sweat, damp shoulder. “Goodbye, beautiful.” Paul went still and as his eyes fluttered close, he heard the soft whisper, “Good bye, Sal.”
Title: Texas II
Fandom: Slave fic
Summary: Sequel to Texas. Everything is perfect now, right? This is Texas.
Rating: NC-17, Adult, FRAO, and any other rating that says not for kiddies!!
The gorgeous dark eyes regarded him. Sal could see a hint of sympathy. “Please,” He choked, “One last time, beautiful.”
His heart pounded heavily as he waited for Paul to respond.
*~*
Paul’s heart was in his throat. He wanted to hate the trembling man at his feet. What a concept to have someone kneel before him. It was strange, uncomfortable, and intriguing. He could spurn Alonzo, he had his freedom. He could walk away and never look back.
The blonde head was bowed and he could not see the blue eyes. The eyes that had shown with lust, with sympathy, with pride, with longing, with anger, with gentleness, with laughter, and with love. Love. Sal taught him love just as he had betrayal. Could there still be love without trust?
He filled his hands with the blonde locks and lifted those bright blue eyes to his own. Blue eyes that glittered with tears, with pain, with remorse, and yes, with love.
“Sal,” His voice was hoarse in his own ears. “One last time, master”
He stepped back as the man got to his feet and cupped his face within the broad palms, “This last time, my love, my beautiful, beautiful boy.”
*~*
Sal wanted memorize this last moment as Paul sighed and lifted his beautiful mouth. With a groan, Sal let their mouths connect even as their hearts did. In this moment the pain, the loss, the betrayal, the abduction never happened. He had his boy, his love in his arms.
He uncovered the soft, silky skin slowly. As he dropped the t-shirt away, he noticed that the rings were no longer in his skin. He trailed his mouth over the downy neck and cupped Paul’s ass bringing their bodies closer. His primal urge to claim crowed at the echoing erection against his hip. He wanted to strip the boy and claim him and never let him go.
Instead he dropped to his knees and slid the denim away taking in the proud cock, still strange without its nest of curls, but no rings or chains adorned the flesh. He helped Paul step out of his pants and shoes. He leaned forward and kissed the broad head in supplication.
“Sal,” Paul hissed and the boy’s hands went into his hair. He looked up and met the dark mysterious gaze. Wrapping his arms around the slender, trembling thighs he opened his mouth and took the throbbing flesh inside. But he was still.
Paul choked and gained an understanding of what he wanted. He wanted the boy to use his mouth, to take his pleasure from him as he had taken his pleasure over and over from the glorious body he held. Paul began his assault slowly which allowed him to trail his tongue over the distended veins and to suck at the leaking head. But Paul growled lowly and the thrusts became harder and faster, Sal opened his throat and took it. Took the fucking because he deserved it, he took it because Paul needed it.
The cum streaming down his throat was a fix for an addiction. His heart pounded at the thought of never tasting his boy again, but he pushed it away. He would have his time to mourn after; he couldn’t breathe, after his boy was gone.
He lifted the naked body and felt Paul curl into him, as they had so many times; it was familiar and odd at the same time. He placed him on the bed, their bed, his mind argued. The hooded brown eyes never left his as he stripped quickly. He felt uncertain as he once again took in the form lying on golden sheets. Paul seemed to take pity on him when he lifted his arms. Tears burned as he settled against the warm body and the slender arms held him close. He placed a gentle kiss over Paul’s heart before kissing him deeply. His body was crying out for release but he didn’t want to lose the intimate connection. Paul had allowed him in and was returning the kiss, their tongues entwining.
Paul pulled back and panted, “Sal, ple...” He trailed off and bit his lip.
He pressed his lips against the delicate ear and whispered, “Shhhh, beautiful, I’m not going to make you beg. I’m yours, tell me what you want.”
He saw the flare of anger before Paul’s mouth crushed against his own. “Fuck me, Salvatore.” The voice was almost a growl, a demand.
He wanted to feast upon the flesh splayed out before him as he worked the tight hole open. But that was the right of a master, a lover, a partner. And as he slid home, he knew that it was over. The wonderful heat of Paul’s body welcomed him even as he slowly began distancing himself. His eyes dimmed as he released his seed.
As they curled together, he placed a gentle kiss against the sweat, damp shoulder. “Goodbye, beautiful.” Paul went still and as his eyes fluttered close, he heard the soft whisper, “Good bye, Sal.”