Page 9 of Fire & Ice

Leander doesn’t punish him for that. Instead, he responds to and even encourages it. The skin of Tripp’s ass is onfirewhen Leander checks his color again, and even though Tripp has said “Ten,”andknows peripherally that the spanking is over, he’s not ready to be finished.

“Green,” he blurts out before Lee has even finished asking the question. “Fuck me,please, Sir,” he moans, rubbing his cock against the side of the mattress, in desperate search of friction.

“None of that,” Leander scolds, gently pulling Tripp’s hips away from the bed and purposefully letting his thumbs graze over irritated skin, which only makes Tripp moan louder. “You’ve been so good, Tripp,” he continues. “So very good, and good boys are always rewarded. You’ll get what you want, I assure you.”

Tripp sniffles somewhat pitifully as the sound of a lube bottle snapping open can be heard from behind him. Leander’s fingers find his entrance easily, and the cool slide, the relief of penetration has Tripp gasping right out of the gate. Tangling both hands into the sheets, he squeezes his eyes shut against the onslaught of sensation.

Quiet, methodical, and efficient, Leander opens him up without fanfare or pretense, spreading thick fingers until they move comfortably in and out in a not-quite-enough glide. Tripp’s happy as hell that he’s not in charge right now, that Leeisn’t askinghisopinion about this—whether he’s ready or needs more prep. It’s all out of his hands and Tripp’sglad.He lays there, raw, sore, and exposed but still wantingmore,willing to take whatever Lee sees fit to give him.

The crinkle of foil is the only thing that catches Tripp’s attention, aside from Leander’sperfectfuckin’ hands. They’d decided previously to use condoms (at least for the time being), and it’s safe to say that Tripp has never regretted a decision more. He wants tofeelLee pressing against his walls, wants the slow drag of skin-on-skin as Lee fills him up, wants to know what it’s like to have Lee dripping out of him when they’re done.

Tripp’s delirious mind tells him to beg for those things, but something stops him, tells him to let it go—this time. The words are gone, anyway, just like every other coherent thought in his mind the second Lee's cock pushes against his rim and pops inside. Leander groans and Tripp can’t help but let a “fuck,yes,”slip from his lips.

“So tight,” Leander murmurs, almost speaking to himself as he slides forward until his thighs are flush and his balls are knocking against Tripp’s own. With some difficulty, Tripp swallows the demands that bubble up in his throat, buckling down and forcing himself to be patient. He’s soon rewarded by Lee's hand carding through his hair, and that’s worth the effort.

“So good for me,” Lee says, his hips beginning to move and circle, dick dragging deliciously against Tripp’s insides with every small stroke. “Go ahead,” he says, “tell me what you want.”

“God—”

“Sir,” Leander cuts him off, voice tinged with amusement, though he doesn’t stop teasing Tripp with those killer fuckin’ hips. “Or Leander, but definitely not God.”

“Sir,please—fuck me hard!” Tripp verbally pivots just as soon as Leander requests it, joke or not, and in response, he feels an approving hand tighten in the locks of his hair. To Tripp’s great relief, the pace and depth of the thrusts both increase, and then Lee is threading an arm under his left thigh, encouraging his knee up onto the mattress.

The resulting angle is so much better, Leander nailing his prostate on nearly every thrust in or drag back out. Waves of pleasure shoot up Tripp’s spine and down to his toes, mixing in perfect tandem with the sharp ache in his abused ass.

While Tripp’s been fucked plenty of times before, it’s never been likethis.With abandon, so totally open and vulnerable, completely at someone else’s mercy and because hewants to be.Tripp gets it, hereally fuckin’ gets it,and as Leander reaches around to strip his cock—making Tripp seize up and come violently all over the nice, white cotton bedsheets—he hasn’t a single regret, not one. Not even that he’s doing this with a guy he’s so in love with he can’t see straight, blinding orgasm aside.

As he floats back down to earth, Tripp lies blissfully sated and pliant on the bed as Leander yanks at his hair and chases his own orgasm. Thighs pound roughly against his stinging ass, nearly milking a second orgasm out of him via his prostate. Lee finishes soon after, grunting and grabbing at Tripp, ending up with an arm around Tripp’s waist to clutch him tightly against his chest as he yanks them both down onto the bed to recover.

Tentatively, Tripp covers the hand splayed across his belly with his own, just for a minute. It’s almost terrifying, how good it feels to be held by Lee like this after what they just did. So much so that Tripp is regretful when Lee pulls out of him, when he gets up immediately to tie off and toss the condom as he makes his way over to the open armoire. The stereo is playing“Kashmir” now, and Leander turns it off, changing the sound to something soft and instrumental.

Blinking up at the ceiling, Tripp wonders when the lights went down. They definitely have—dim in comparison to the brightness level Leander chose when he first brought them in here. Vaguely, Tripp’s ears register a door opening and closing accompanied by some light clanking, like glass in a fridge. He wonders if he should get up, but then remembers aboutaftercareand the way Leander emphasized its importance.Trippwonders what exactly that will entail, and selfishly hopes for more cuddling.

It’s only seconds later that Lee appears back at his side, leaning down to press a kiss to Tripp’s forehead and then cock his head towards the top of the bed.

“Come up here,” he says gently, leaving a grounding hand on Tripp’s shoulder that he feels strangely grateful for. With some difficulty—thanks to sore muscles and a fiery ass—Tripp drags himself more properly onto the mattress, only to collapse again face-down with his head on a pillow and his arms tucked underneath. Once settled, he releases a small sigh of contentment. Leander curls up next to him and soothes a hand down his back, stopping just shy of the reddened skin.

“Drink this before you pass out,” he instructs, and Tripp cracks open an eyelid to see a bottle of orange juice thrust in his face. Somehow, he manages to prop himself up onto his elbows and to suck down half of the drink in one go. It tastes and feels good sliding down his dry throat, enough that he lifts the bottle again, finishing it off without having to be prodded.

“Good, Tripp,” Leander praises. “You are so very good.”

“Alright,” Tripp grumbles before hiding his face in the pillow, as ifcomplimentsare the most humiliating thing he’s faced in the last hour (or however long they’ve been in here).

To his relief, Leander just sighs, though Tripp can almostfeelhim shaking his head. “I’m opting to let that one go, because technically, the scene is over,” he says. His tone isn’t unkind, but it’s still very firm. “But we will be working on your ability to accept praise.”

“Fine,” Tripp mumbles, directly into the pillow, and Leander pinches his ass. “Hey!”

“Don’t be a brat,” he murmurs, uncapping another bottle of something and squeezing a healthy portion of whatever it is into his hand. “This is arnica gel, it will help with any bruising.” Leander’s deft hands swipe the stuff over Tripp’s abused skin, and it feels wonderfully soothing, enough that Tripp feels safe to relax down into the mattress once again. “I also brought ice,” Leander continues, draping a soft cloth across Tripp’s ass and resting what he assumes from the cold is a bag of ice over that. “Probably excessive, but you’ve never been spanked before.”

After that, Leander hesitates, though his hand never leaves Tripp’s skin. “Considering this was a first-time scene for you, I would feel much better if you’d stay the night. I’d like to sleep in here with you—close contact after an intense scene can help to ward off drop, something I’d very much like to avoid either one of us experiencing, especially so early on. But if you’re not comfortable with that, I could be right next door...”

“Lee,” Tripp says patiently, turning his head on the pillow so that he can look up at his friend. Immediately, Tripp registers the pointed cocking of Lee's eyebrow, the touch of his fingers to his own neck. “Sir,” Tripp corrects, slightly sarcastically. “I know we’ve set some boundaries here, and I get it, but you and me have slept in the same bed plenty of times.”

Leander still looks hesitant, his gaze darting over to the closed door of the playroom like he’s thinking about bolting for an escape. Tripp sighs. Usually, he’s the one boasting the shitty communication skills.

“I’d rather have you,” he says, reaching out to drop a hand onto Lee's thigh, andthatgets his attention.

The mischievous little grin that Lee is often seen wearing returns as he looks softly down his nose at Tripp. “Alright,” he says simply, picking up a remote that Tripp hadn’t previously noticed from the small table on his side of the bed. With a flick of his index finger, he’s dimming the lights the rest of the way off, so that’s one mystery explained.

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