Page 114 of Fire & Ice

Whoever said that long-term relationships and marriage are boring, that chemistry dies and intimacy becomes increasingly dull and distant between partners as time goes by, never met Leander and Tripp.

The rust-stained sink of the strip club bathroom groans beneath Tripp’s hands as he’s forced to shift his weight forward, though not as loudly as Tripp himself does. Behind him, Leander has his fiancé bent nearly in half, legs kicked wide where he stands between them. This space is as nasty as Leander remembers it being from Beau and Bri's own pre-wedding party, but that only adds to the excitement. He and Tripp have been too spoiled for too long—theyneedthis.

Biting down on his bottom lip, Leander doesn’t eventryto stifle his own noises of appreciation as he watches himself slide easily in and out of Tripp’s ass. The soft, round cheeks bracketing his cock are still bright pink from the spanking Leander doled out before deciding to fuck him, and just for fun, he raises his hand and brings it down hard one more time.

The slapping sound his palm makes when it connects with Tripp’s skin seems to echo off of the dingy tile, and Leander’s grimy mirror reflection grins to hear Tripp’s responding whimper.

“How badly do you need to come?” Leander asks casually, still thrusting, and in fact—he pulls Tripp’s cheeks apart wide with both hands, growling in approval at both the improved view and Tripp’s quiet grunt as he fucks him deeper.

“Mmrph,” Tripp replies, andtruly,he is feeding the beast tonight.

Leander’s smile widens as he releases one ass cheek so that he can reach out and jerk Tripp’s head back roughly by his hair. His submissive is sweaty and pliant, but of course, yanking his head around doesn’t get Leander the reply he’s after, because Tripp is extremely well-gagged. With his face tipped back, it can at least be confirmed that he still has the whole of Leander’s favorite blue tie stuffed inside that smart mouth. It’s ruined and he’ll miss it, but this sight is well worth the loss.

“Shame you can’t tell me,” Leander muses, pressing his hips forward to bury himself as far inside Tripp as he can possibly get. Meanwhile, he’s reaching around to finger the metal cock cage that’s still holding his sub hostage, elicitingquitethe whimper when he does.

“I imagine this must be exceedingly uncomfortable for you by now. You’ve spent, what? Two and a half, three hours receiving lap dance after lap dance? To think of all that sweet friction you must’ve endured.”

Leander’s teasing but not exaggerating—after all, this istheirco-bachelor party, there wasn’t a chance in hell he wouldn’t do the most to make it fantastically memorable. A repeat of the stunt he pulled the last time they were here seemed perfectly in order, although this time, Leander topped it off with something Tripp never saw coming: a lap dance from Leander himself.

And Tripp is easy—Leander knew that he wouldn’t even have to get naked to drive him out of his mind. It was easy as paying for half an hour in the Champagne room, but without the accompanying strippers. Surprisingly, not an uncommon request, according to the club’s management. Worth every penny, at any rate, just to see the look on Tripp’s face whenLeanderwalked in and the music turned on.

While it’s true that he and Tripp have done a great number of depraved and dirty things together—most of them twice and several with an accompanying audience—for whatever reason, this was different. Leander’s never witnessed Trippsoobviously turned on as he was inthatmoment, and to see it was surprisingly relationship-affirming.

It made Leander feel powerful,wanted. Not that Tripp ever makes him feel otherwise, but his reaction was simply not what Leander would have expectedhispresence to provoke. Not when Tripp was undoubtedly expecting some hot young thing with assets his fiancé just doesn’t have on offer to walk through the door. It’s not a leap to assume that Tripp was anticipating professional, scantily-clad women, and instead, he got the guy who borrows his toothbrush—and he waspsychedabout it.

And Leander in his t-shirt and jeans, no less.

One wouldn’t think—except, perhaps heshould. Since the day they confessed their feelings for each other, Tripp’s never made any bones about the fact that he only wants Leander. Appreciative as he might be for other form and function, whether it be porn or a particularly sexy display at the club, Tripp really does go out of his way to both showandtell Leander thatheis the thing that lights his fire.

Those sentimental thoughtsalmosthave Leander feeling guilty for torturing Tripp so badly. For lining up every dancer in the place to grind in his lap and then rounding out the party by doing the same. It makes his dick even harder than it already is—inside Tripp’s ass—to think about how they played inside that private room together. It was certainly the catalyst to dragging Tripp in here and ripping his pants off.

The way Tripp put his hands on Leander’s body as he rocked his hips with the beat, ass rolling teasingly over Tripp’s thighs. Thepossessivenesswith which Tripp yanked Leander’sback flush against his chest, how Tripp tucked his face over Leander’s shoulder and into his neck. Most of all, the way he spread his own legs wide and invited whatever havoc he knew Leander would wreak, all the while knowing that he was wearing that unforgiving cage, and that he’d pay for it.

In the present, Leander shivers, bracing his hand on Tripp’s shoulder and finding the shirt that he’s wearing damp beneath his palm. He slows his thrusts, contemplating his next move. It’s hardly a break for Tripp—the position they’re in just causes Leander’s cock to drag more slowly over his prostate, and he whines through the gag, legs shaking a little as they struggle to continue holding him up.

It’s a delicious feeling, all of that power and control. It’s also a gorgeous sight, and one that Leander imagines he’ll think about shamelessly tomorrow, when Tripp is standing across from him at the altar, dressed like a proper gentleman in his perfectly-fitting tux.

Sliding a hand up Tripp’s neck and around his throat, Leander tightens his fingers, lightly restricting Tripp’s ability to breathe freely, especially through the gag. “Color,” he demands, and Tripp’s hand fumbles for Leander’s thigh, only to tap twice:green.

“Three to safeword,” Leander reminds him, and then wraps an arm around Tripp’s belly for leverage before hoisting him up by the neck and resuming fucking him hard and fast.

With that shift in mood, Tripp stops trying to restrain himself from making any noises. His head lolls back against Leander’s shoulder, the edge of the sink digging into his thighs. He moans and cries and chokes, all of his sounds vaguely muffled by the fabric in his mouth as Leander chases his own orgasm and comes with several rough slaps of their skin and a low, satisfied moan.

The tie is pulled swiftly free from Tripp’s mouth nearly the second Leander is done, even before he moves to recover the plug and shove it back inside Tripp’s ass. He flips Tripp around, needing to grab his bicep to steady him on his feet, dazed and messy as he is. Leander’s pretty sub is plied full of alcohol and raging hormones, and by some miracle,stillso damn perfect in his willingness to please.

How on earth did he get so lucky?

Leander can’t help but wonder that as he examines Tripp’s throat, checking for marks or damage. Green eyes blink down at him slowly, squeezing shut for a protracted moment before lazily cracking open again, as Tripp’s pink tongue darts out to wet his lips. In front of him, Leander ‘accidentally’ shifts his hips forward as he stuffs himself back into his pants and does up his belt, causing his thigh to rub against Tripp’s poor, caged cock. Tripp winces.

“Tripp,” Leander says casually, almost distractedly, making a show of proceeding to check him over before continuing. “Would you like your wedding present, now?”

Clearly somewhat out of it, Tripp just raises his eyebrows and shrugs. Leander doesn’t fail to notice the way his left hand creeps repeatedly towards his crotch, being tugged surreptitiously away at the last second when Tripp’s brain catches up to his aching body’s demands. He has to be inmisery.

“Just say yes,” Leander encourages gently, cupping Tripp’s jaw and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. It’s softer than anything else that’s passed between them this entire night.

“Yes, Sir,” Tripp replies weakly, slumping back against the sink. Very clearly, he is not expecting relief.

“Very well.” With a smirk, Leander reaches down to free Tripp’s cock, careful to remove the cage quickly and to give Tripp a moment to recover. He doesn’t disappoint—groaning gratuitously and nearly doubling over. Both hands go flying to his groin, but Leander is there to catch him, to thread an arm around his back and hold him up.

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