Temptation at Every Turn

 

 

"No," Ethan breathed, "you're not making this easy on me, so I'm going to return the favor. You want it, come and get it, Max." He grinned suddenly. "Or should I say, Maxi?"

Playing with fire, or in Maxmillian's case -- ice -- was never a wise move on the best of days, and doing so today was purely stupid. But Ethan couldn't help it. Max on the prowl was dangerous and hot and more than Ethan could resist. But he would try.

"Come on, Maxi," he taunted again, trying not to be unnerved by the narrowing of those sapphire blue eyes. "Give it your best shot."

"With you, that much effort won't be required," Max said.

"Ouch. I'll make you pay for that one, babe."

Max almost smiled. "I'd like to see you try."

They knew each other's moves like they knew each other's bodies. In a straight fight, it would be difficult to predict a winner. But this involved more than fighting skills. The odds, Ethan thought with some chagrin, tended to weigh in his lover's favor.

"Why do you prefer to drag this out?" Max asked him as they circled each other in the large bedroom.

"Because you can be irritatingly arrogant, Max. Charming at times, yes, but also more arrogant than any man has a right to be."

"You don't think I have a right to be arrogant when it comes to you?" Max arched an eyebrow as he carefully removed his jacket and tie. The holster and gun followed, his body tensed for any movement from Ethan. "I have an extremely attractive, sexy lover. On who lets me do anything I want to him. I think I have a right to feel a little vain. Wouldn't you agree, my little weather cock?"

Ethan gritted his teeth. "You know I hate it when you call me that." He feinted a dodge towards the other man which Max nimbly leaned from.

"Weather cock? But it fits you so perfectly. Your emotions change with the wind. Hotheaded and unpredictable, Ethan. That's what you are. It's no wonder you're drawn to me. You seek ice for your fire."

Damn. Max was already winning and they hadn't even touched each other yet. Max grinned, his teeth a white slash in his dark countenance. His eyes fell to Ethan's obvious erection and he tsked. "Control, little weather cock."

Ethan didn't respond, just launched himself at his lover. It was all about the grip. Weight-wise, they were relatively equal. It was a matter of who got a better hold on the other man first. Ethan felt fairly confident since Max's clothing gave him better purchase. He had one hand fisted in the collar of Max's $200 silk shirt and the other around a strong wrist, trying to pull the man over his hip into a judo throw.

But Max wasn't having it. His breath hot against Ethan's cheek, he levered a leg behind Ethan's and sought to trip him. After a brief struggle, they broke apart, both grinning at the stalemate.

"Not going to be easy this time," Ethan told him, bouncing agilely on the plush carpet. A light film of sweat slicked his body. "You'll have to work for it, Maxi"

Maxmillian quickly tore off his shirt, leaving Ethan, as always, momentarily awestruck. Max's highly defined, well-sculpted musculature was a site to behold. The two dusky nipples drawn tight to attention made Ethan's mouth water.

"Just for using that infernal name," Max began slowly, "I'm going to be particularly unforgiving with you." He raised a dark-skinned finger to his nipple and began to circle it.

Ethan was transfixed with what his lover was doing. "Whatever you say, Max -- oof!" Ethan reacted a second too late and went down hard as Max tackled him. Cursing his lapse, Ethan tried to buck the other man off. But once down, the advantage was Max's. Ethan could have fought dirty if he truly wanted to escape his lover's clutches, but that really wasn't the point. He struggled and received an elbow to the stomach for his efforts, but he couldn't resist the strength and leverage used to flip him over. He ground his teeth when he found himself face-down on the carpet, one wrist pinned to the carpet over his head, the other twisted up between his shoulder blades.

"Dammit!" he cursed into the piling. Little fibers rustled with his heavy breathing. "That was sneaky, Max!"

"I think you lose this one, little weather cock."

"It's not over yet," Ethan growled, though why he felt in a position to say that, he had no idea. He suppressed a groan when Max grinded against his ass.

"Oh, no?" Max murmured close to his ear.

Ethan shut his eyes when the motion was repeated, rocking him against the carpet. His half-hard erection swelled to full stiffness. Unconsciously, he spread his legs, letting the other man fall between them as Max continued to pump against him.

"You just surrendered to me," Max whispered.

Max released the wrist held to the carpet and reached for his discarded jacket. Ethan watched from the corner of his eye as his lover removed a small bottle of lubrication. Ever prepared, he thought wryly. Max shifted slightly atop him to grab the waistband of Ethan's boxers, and with a harsh jerk, stripped the garment down his hips.

"Nice," Max purred, stroking the soft globes of Ethan's ass. "You're beautiful, did you know that? You have excellent musculature." Ethan tensed slightly as manicured fingers slipped between his cheeks. "But I think I like you where you're most vulnerable."

The fingers disappeared and he heard the sound of the bottle top being flipped open. A second later, cool liquid spilled down the crease of his ass and pooled in the small of his back. Max drew a lazy circle in the oil on his back.

"You're mine, you know that." It wasn't a question.

Ethan waited silently, his every awareness tracking the slender fingers that slowly drew down his back. They traced over the curve of his ass and slid down the crease between, spreading him. His breathing grew faster as a fingertip circled his puckered entrance.

"If I can touch you like this," Max said, inserting a lubricated finger into Ethan's body, "you're mine."

Ethan hissed, his back arching, as Max pushed another finger into him and began to stroke. "Shut . . . up . . . Max."

Skilled fingers found his prostate and circled it. Ethan bit back a groan, involuntarily shoving his hips back onto the fingers that impaled him.

"What did you say?" Max asked idly, his voice husky, but still with that damnable control.

Another swipe over that pleasure center left Ethan trembling beneath his lover. "Dammit, Max . . . don't torture me --"

"Or what?" Max pressed down hard with his fingers, making the man beneath him moan. He lowered his head so his lips just grazed Ethan's ear. "You're not in a position to make threats, Ethan." His fingers began to pump in and out of Ethan's body, making him gasp. "Not when I'm about to fuck you into the carpet."

Ethan shuddered. Few things turned him on like the sound of refined, cultured Maxmillian Poole talking dirty to him. "Please, Max," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry. Just don't make me . . . don't make me come like this."

"You want my cock, Ethan?"

He nearly moaned at the wonderful sound of the zipper lowering on Max's trousers. "Yes. Give it to me."

Max shifted atop him, shoving down clothing, but never losing his grip on Ethan's wrist. The fingers vanished from his body, leaving him aching, but immediately the firm pressure of Max's cock pressed against him.

"You want this?" Max panted, some of his control fading as he rubbed the fat head of his cock over the tiny rosette. He pushed just the tip into the tight ring. "You want to be fucked, Ethan? Want to be fucked into the floor by Maxmillian Poole?"

The head games were going to make him come before Max even started moving. "Yes! I want you to fuck me, Max. Don't make me beg for it."

Max grabbed a handful of golden hair and held Ethan's face to the carpet as he shoved himself forward. Ethan whimpered as the thick, swollen length of the other man speared deep into his body. Max was impressive, both in length and in girth, but he never made adjustments for the fact. Once he was all the way inside, he immediately pulled back and began pistoning ruthlessly into the spread body beneath him. Ethan's mouth fell slack as Max slammed into him again and again.

"Max . . . take it easy," he panted. Tears sprang to his eyes, but he blinked them back as Max's cock rubbed hard across his prostate. He cried aloud, his own erection a pulsing, mad thing trapped between his body and the carpet. "Fuck, Max. Oh, that's too hard . . . too . . . oh, yes."

"Mine," Max snarled, shoving Ethan's face deeper into the carpet. He flexed his hips, driving his lover across the floor. The carpet burned against Ethan's cock, a fiery pain that somehow added to the wild pleasure being pumped into his body from behind. "Say it, Ethan."

Ethan could barely remember his own name at the moment. His body was so tightly strung he knew he was just seconds away from orgasm. But just as he was about to crest that peak, Max stopped moving, his cock throbbing deep inside Ethan. "Say it!"

"Yours!" Ethan gasped, making a fist in the carpet with his free hand. "I'm yours, Max. God -- just don't stop!"

Max growled something incoherent and rammed hard into Ethan. That final, nerve-wracking swipe over his pleasure center pushed Ethan over. He cried out into the carpet, his body shuddering as his climax rocked him. The fist in his hair tightened as Max continued to shove into him. Max pushed himself as deep into Ethan's body as he could go and then arched against him with a guttural groan. Second's later, his hot seed spurted thickly into Ethan's quivering body.

Panting into the carpet, Ethan winced slightly when Max pulled out of him. Their meeting with Derek Crow had inspired Max. Ethan knew he was going to be sore.

But as usual after a rough session of sex, Max showed a gentle consideration that would have shocked his employees. His somewhat shaky fingers brushed the damp hair from Ethan's eyes before he tenderly kissed his lover on the lips.

"Mine," he whispered, holding Ethan's gaze. Max's sapphire eyes were pure midnight. "Don't ever forget that."

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