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Switching Gears (Serving his Master Book 7) Page 5
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He ran his finger over the tattoo of a strip of barbed wire that was inked in a circle around the upper part of Jack’s right arm. “You have a lot of tattoos. Does the pain of the process excite you?”
“It calms me,” Jack said, surprising himself with his answer, though once he said it, he knew it was true.
Ronan nodded thoughtfully. “And this?” His fingers found Jack’s nipples and he gave each a savage twist.
“Ah,” Jack cried, not expecting the sharp, sudden pain.
“Does that calm you or excite you?”
Jack was breathing hard, his nipples throbbing. The pain zinging from his tortured nerve endings had made its way directly to his groin, transmuting along the way to cock-tingling pleasure.
“Excites me,” he managed.
“I thought so,” Ronan replied. He stepped back, catching Jack’s cock in his grip. He stroked it roughly and then slapped it, catching the sensitive skin just below the head with a sharp smack.
Jack wanted Ronan’s hot mouth to soothe away the sting, but he managed to keep his own mouth shut.
Ronan lightly gripped Jack’s shaft and again began to stroke it. He moved in close, murmuring against Jack’s ear, “You love the pleasure and you need the pain. When you put them together, amazing things can happen.”
Unable to help himself, Jack turned his head, his lips brushing Ronan’s cheek.
Ronan stepped back abruptly, letting Jack’s cock go. He moved out of Jack’s line of vision, returning a moment later with two sets of slender chains with rounded clamps on either end. “Know what these are?”
“Yeah.” Jack had seen that particular kind of clamp but had never had them used on him before.
“These are clover clamps. They’re especially effective because when you tug on the chain, the tension increases.” Ronan flicked Jack’s right nipple until it hardened. “Here, I’ll show you.” Pulling it taut between thumb and forefinger, he compressed the spring that held the clamp closed and positioned the rubber-covered tips over the distended nipple.
When he let it close, it took a second to register the intense pressure created at his chest. Jack closed his eyes and blew out a breath. Ronan took hold of the clamp at the other end of the first chain. Jack expected him to put it on his other nipple, which was already perking to attention, but instead Ronan plucked at the skin on the right side of Jack’s scrotum.
“No,” Jack protested reflexively.
“Shh,” Ronan said. “There are less nerve endings there than in your nipples. You can take this. I promise.”
Jack compressed his lips, determined to prove he could indeed take it like a man. He winced as the clamps closed on the loose skin, but had to admit the pinch was less painful than the throb he now felt at his nipple.
Ronan did the same thing with the second pair of clamps on Jack’s left nipple and the left side of his balls. He stood back to admire his work. “You look very hot like that, Jack. I like you in chains.”
Ronan leaned forward, again stroking Jack’s shaft, which hadn’t flagged during the clamping. Jack looked down, watching as Ronan smeared the clear pre-come on the tip of his cock, sliding it over the head as he palmed the shaft. Jack’s balls were tight with need.
Ronan tugged at the chains between the clamps, pulling them tighter. Jack closed his eyes, absorbing the pain, his cock throbbing. “I want to take you there, Jack. To that place where every nerve ending in your body is screaming with pain, except your cock, which is about to explode with pleasure. It’s what you need, isn’t it, boy?” Ronan’s voice was silky and low, settling over Jack’s senses like a promise he was suddenly desperate to keep.
“Are you ready, Jack? Are you ready to go where you need to go?”
Jack felt the prick of nervous sweat at his armpits. He licked his lips. Adrenaline was zipping through his bloodstream. “Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, Sir.”
Ronan smiled, his eyes hooding. “Good boy.” He glanced toward the ceiling and Jack followed his gaze, noticing for the first time the thick eyebolt embedded in a suspension beam just to the right of the St. Andrew’s cross.
“For the flogging I want to bind your wrists to that hook. Do you have any circulation issues or anything I need to know about that would impede your being cuffed with arms overhead for an extended period of time?” Ronan stroked Jack’s chest with one hand, the other reaching down to take his aching cock in a warm grip.
“No,” Jack managed. Though a tiny voice still protested somewhere inside his head, it was drowned out by the torrent of heat caused by Ronan’s hand, coupled with the press of the clover clamps that had sent the endorphins flying.
Ronan let him go, moving to release the clips that held his wrists and ankles in the cuffs. Once released, Jack stepped off the small platform at the base of the cross. Taking a breath, he moved awkwardly in the clamps and chain to stand beneath the eyebolt while Ronan rummaged through the wardrobe. He returned with a set of soft leather cuffs and a length of thick chain.
“Hold out your wrists.”
Jack obeyed, watching as Ronan secured the cuffs and looped the chain between them. He draped the chain over Jack’s shoulder, the cold metal making him shudder.
Ronan removed a folding stepstool from the wardrobe and opened it beside Jack. Climbing onto it, he ordered, “Lift your arms up high.” Jack obeyed, his stomach clenching with nervous anticipation. Ronan looped the chain through the eyebolt, securing it with a thick clip. “Comfortable?” he asked.
Jack nodded, aware suddenly that his heart was hammering against his ribs. Ronan moved away, returning a moment later with a heavy flogger in his hand, thick strands of soft black leather dangling from a long, leather-covered handle. He ran the tresses over Jack’s chest and stomach, the tips grazing his cock.
Then he moved to stand behind Jack, dragging the leather over his back and ass. Jack had always loved the feel of leather against his skin. He sighed with pleasure and leaned into it.
“Stay still,” Ronan ordered. “Spread your legs into an at-ease position. Push out your ass. Offer it to me. And then don’t move. No dancing away from the lash. You can talk to me, tell me if it’s too much, but hold your position. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” This time the honorific came more easily, almost naturally.
Ronan started slowly, warming the skin. He focused at first on Jack’s ass, steadily increasing the intensity of the blows until Jack had to brace himself to keep from being pushed forward.
Jack tensed when the flogger struck his shoulders.
“Relax,” Ronan commanded. “Give yourself to the pain.” He covered Jack’s body, from shoulder to calves, striking harder against the more padded areas of his ass and thighs. The clamp chains swayed with each stroke, but he could no longer feel his nipples, numbed by the compression.
The flogging felt good—the leather raining down in a flurry of stinging, soft strokes that warmed his skin and excited him deep in his bones. Just as he was really starting to get into it, however, Ronan lowered the flogger. Jack had to press his lips together not to beg for him to continue.
Moving to stand in front of Jack, Ronan tucked the whip beneath his arm and reached for the clamp still compressing Jack’s now numb right nipple. “This is going to hurt. Get ready.” He released the clamp.
The blood flowed back into the nipple, bringing searing pain along with it. “Fuck,” Jack gasped.
Dipping his head, Ronan closed his mouth over the tortured nipple, his tongue warm and sensual as it licked the nubbin. When he removed the clamp from Jack’s scrotum, the pain wasn’t nearly as intense.
The second nipple, perhaps because he was anticipating it, hurt even more. “Jesus,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as he processed the pain. Again Ronan’s warm, soft tongue laved the bud, soothing the sting. Ronan removed the second clamp from Jack’s scrotum and put both sets aside.
“How you doing?” he asked, looking into Jack’s eyes.
“Okay, Sir,” Jack man
aged. His untouched cock bobbed between them. He wanted the handsome man to kiss him, but doubted that was part of the deal.
Ronan stepped back. Taking up the flogger again, he held the ends of the leather strands with one hand, releasing them at the last second as he flicked his wrist forward. The tips stung as they made contact with Jack’s chest and stomach. As before, Ronan started light and steadily increased the tempo and strength of the blows until Jack was panting and grunting. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt…so good…
But then Ronan stepped back and to the side, aiming for Jack’s cock.
“No,” Jack said instinctively, twisting away.
Ronan lowered his arm. “No? Do you need me to slow down? Do you want to use your safeword?”
Jack stared at the Dom. Though he was afraid, he wanted to feel the sting. “No, Sir,” he whispered.
Ronan smiled. “That’s good, Jack. You’re being honest with yourself now. That’s important. You can trust me. I’ll only take you where you need to go.” He let the tresses snap over Jack’s erect shaft. Several of the stinging tips caught his balls.
“Ah,” Jack cried, as Ronan continued to pelt the leather against his cock and balls.
“Give in to it,” Ronan urged. “Stop fighting it. Embrace the pain. Let it become part of you.” He circled Jack, striking his ass, his back, his thighs, his upper arms, his chest, his cock and balls. He moved quickly, giving Jack no time to recover or anticipate.
One especially hard blow sent Jack stumbling forward, causing him to jerk hard against his wrist restraints. He felt Ronan behind him, strong arms wrapping around his torso to catch him. He leaned back against the other man, the desire to kiss him again rising in him like a tide.
Still holding him, Ronan murmured in a whisper across Jack’s neck, “You look so hot, locked in your cuffs, your body covered in sweat.” Jack felt the nudge of teeth biting his neck. He groaned, his cock straining.
But then Ronan stepped back, the warm touch of his body quickly replaced by the strike of the whip, which caught him hard across the back. He drew in a breath but stood his ground.
Ronan moved to stand in front of him. “You’re doing so well. You’re taking it for me. I knew you could do it.” Ronan’s eyes were blazing and Jack could see the clear outline of his cock, erect and hard in his pants. This went beyond a favor to an old friend. Ronan was into it, into Jack.
Where normally this would have given Jack the sense of having the upper hand, of now being the one in control, this felt different. He wanted Ronan—he couldn’t deny that, but there was more going on here.
Ronan stepped to the side, drawing the leather strands into a neat bunch, the fingers of one hand moving along them, while he gripped the handle in the other. With a sudden, sharp flick, he released the strands, letting them strike across Jack’s chest.
“Ah,” Jack cried as the tips of the tresses caught his still-sore nipples.
Ronan continued to wield the flogger, covering Jack’s skin from shoulder to knee with a torrent of stinging leather. Jack’s body jerked uncontrollably with each blow. His eyes were squeezed shut, the blood roaring in his ears. Just when he was about to cry out his safeword, the whip was replaced with soothing hands, which sent arcs of pulsing, electric current through Jack’s body. One touch to his cock, and he’d lose it.
“You can do it. You’re almost there,” Ronan crooned, his tone at once urgent and achingly sexy. “I’m going to take you there now. Let go and fly with me, Jack.”
This time there was no mercy. The flogger smashed hard against his ass and thighs. Jack didn’t even try to stay still. He danced on his toes, jerking convulsively with each well-placed blow. Sweat trickled down his sides. He was dizzy and could barely catch his breath, his heart beating high in his throat.
“Slow down,” he heard Ronan say, as if from a distance. “Slow your breathing. You’re almost there. I can feel it, Jack. You’re almost where you need to be.”
Then the most curious thing happened. Jack’s head got heavy, so heavy he had to let it drop back. His feet lowered themselves of their own accord from tiptoe, and his lungs expanded, allowing him at last to draw in a deep, cleansing breath. His heart stopped skittering like a mad thing, and a curious, welcome calm settled over him like a blanket.
Ronan continued to flog him, just as hard as before, but Jack no longer felt the pain. Or more accurately, he no longer processed it as pain.
“Yes,” Ronan whispered from somewhere near him. “Yes. That’s it, Jack. That’s it. Let it take you.”
Jack’s mouth was hanging open, but he lacked the ability to close it. He couldn’t move. It was as if he were a statue, not of stone, but of living, breathing flesh. A strange lightness began to invade him, like sunlight shining from inside, warming him and easing all the burdens he’d been amassing for a lifetime. A sigh, heavy with years of weariness, escaped him.
After a time—he had no idea how long—the whipping stopped. Warm, sure fingers gripped his shaft, pulling upward. Ronan was just behind him, his chest against Jack’s back as he held him. As he stroked Jack’s cock, he nuzzled against him, his lips grazing Jack’s neck and shoulder.
Waves of pulsing pleasure radiated through Jack’s body as Ronan pumped him, the skin of his balls tightening in Ronan’s tender grip. “Come for me,” Ronan whispered in his ear. “I want you, Jack.”
The orgasm rising through him started at his groin, but spread throughout his body, making him jerk and shake, the chain rattling overhead as his body spasmed with blinding ecstasy. It seemed to go on and on, pulling him in its wake, lifting him off the ground, making him rise so high and far he vanished into a patch of pure, perfect freedom.
When he began to float back to the planet, he was aware of Ronan’s arms around him as he sagged heavily against the chains at his wrists. “I want to let you down, okay?” Ronan said softly.
Jack managed a nod.
Ronan let him go and dragged the stepstool closer. He climbed on it, keeping one hand on Jack’s shoulder as he released the wrist cuffs. Jack’s knees started to buckle as his arms flopped down to his sides. Ronan was right there, holding him as they sank together to the floor. He could feel Ronan’s heart beating against his own. He felt dazed, stunned with emotion he wasn’t used to feeling. His entire body was warm and stinging, but it felt good, as if he’d somehow been scrubbed cleaned, years of tension simply whipped away. Every muscle ached with delicious fatigue.
“Thank you, Sir,” he breathed, leaning into the man behind him as Ronan stuck out his legs on either side. “That was…” Jack trailed off, unable to express what he’d experienced.
“It was what you needed,” Ronan said softly, his arms draped loosely around Jack. Jack could feel the other man’s erection pressing against his lower back, and words he’d barely heard and hadn’t processed in the seconds before orgasm now came sifting into his brain like stardust. “I want you, Jack.”
“I want you, too, Sir,” Jack whispered, his heart pounding.
~*~
Ronan let his arms fall away and slowly got to his feet. He moved to crouch in front of Jack, searching the man’s face. The session had taken Ronan completely by surprise. He’d lost control, inwardly if not outwardly—no question about it. It was the first time he’d been lifted out of his comfort zone as a professional Dom. There was nothing professional about what had just happened between them. It was personal—the most personal experience he’d had since Nicholas.
“Please,” Jack whispered, his eyes pleading. “I know you just did this for Alexei, but…I don’t know. I feel alive. For the first time in…well, forever.”
Professionalism warred with lust inside Ronan. Having sex with the sub was definitely not part of the plan. But this wasn’t about his favor to Alexei anymore, and he knew it. “It was for Alexei at first, maybe,” he said aloud. “But not now. Not after that. You were amazing, Jack. Truly.”
They pulled each other up, moving together through the arched doorway that
led to the back of the house. Jack was unsteady on his feet, and Ronan brought an arm around his shoulders, guiding him toward the guest bedroom.
Once there, Jack dropped to his knees in front of Ronan and looked up at him. “Please, Sir. I want to thank you for what you gave me just now. For what you showed me.”
Ronan stared down at him. It had been so long since he dared to trust another soul, Ronan realized he wasn’t entirely sure how to start. If Jack was going to break his heart, so be it. At least it was beating again.
Jack tugged at Ronan’s right boot, pulling it along with his sock, from Ronan’s foot. He did the same with the second boot and then leaned up, reaching for the belt buckle. As Jack undid the belt and opened the fly, Ronan shucked off his vest. He gripped Jack’s bare shoulders for support as Jack dragged the pants down his legs, along with his underwear. When he was naked, he reached to pull Jack up and into his arms, but Jack shook him away.
“Please,” he whispered. “This is for you, Sir. For you.”
Ronan let his hands fall away.
Remaining on his knees, Jack whispered, “Sit on the bed, please, Sir.” Ronan sat and Jack crawled toward him. Kneeling up, Jack placed his calloused palms on Ronan’s chest and guided him back gently against the quilts, which were soft beneath his skin.
Ronan sighed his pleasure as Jack’s lips closed over the head of his cock. Jack gripped the base of the shaft as he took Ronan fully into his mouth. Ronan groaned as the head of his cock made contact with the back of Jack’s throat. After sucking him for a few delicious minutes, Jack pulled back, running the tip of his tongue along the underside of Ronan’s shaft, sending spirals of shivery sensation that radiated through his entire body.
“Jack,” Ronan began breathlessly.
Jack lowered his head again, making Ronan forget whatever it was he had been about to say. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself completely to Jack’s loving, ardent attention. After more perfect suckling of his shaft, Jack licked and kissed Ronan’s balls. Then his tongue slid back until it touched Ronan’s puckered hole. He lightly rimmed him until Ronan groaned with pleasure. Then he licked slowly back up to Ronan’s balls. He took them into his mouth, one at a time, at the same time gently inserting a finger into Ronan’s ass.