Page 18 of Chained
“It’s my only name.”
“Okay.” Terry paused. “Does my babbling bother you?”
“No.” That was an honest answer. Actually, Edge kind of liked it. It made their interaction more personal.
“Also good. But there is one way to shut me up.” Terry pushed firmly on Edge’s shoulder, toppling him onto his back, and then quickly scooted around to grasp Edge’s cock and give it a swipe with his tongue.
Oh, God. Edge didn’t know what to do with his hands. He was afraid he might grab Terry’s hair too hard, so he ended up with fistfuls of blanket instead. His muscles went rigid enough to bow his back and then relaxed entirely, leaving him feeling boneless under Terry’s ministrations. Terry had a talented mouth, which he used as eagerly on Edge as he had in conversation. He licked, sucked, even nibbled just enough to make Edge see sparkles. He was so good at it, in fact, that it took some time for Edge to register that Terry was entirely naked, the long, lean lines of his body exposed by the displaced bedding. Edge had seen him unclothed before, but that had been different. Now for this short time, Terry was here for him.
Edge set his hands on Terry’s shoulders. “Terry.”
Terry stopped immediately and looked up at him. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. But… I’m going to come. Don’t want to yet. Please.”
“Well… since you’ve asked so nicely….” Terry kissed the tip of Edge’s cock, making him gasp, and let it go. With a few quick movements and a little help from Edge, he shoved the blankets off the bed entirely, returned to his original spot beside him, and snuggled close. “Do you have rubbers?”
“I… what?”
“Rubbers. Condoms.”
“No.” Edgeknewabout them, but nobody had ever used one with him. The subject had never come up, and besides, most people spent little time chatting before fucking him. Whitaker’s guests took Edge the way they took Whitaker’s food and drinks and drugs: like an amenity they deserved and with only their own needs in mind.
Terry was again petting Edge’s face. “I don’t have any rubbers either. I didn’t expect to need them.”
“Doesn’t matter. We can—”
“I’ve seen people die, Edge. Amos—a man I once loved—caught the disease before anyone knew what the hell was going on, and he… he withered away. I’d broken up with him long before he got sick, and I’m pretty sure I don’t have the virus, but I can’t risk it. Can’t risk you.” His thumb skated down the length of Edge’s nose.
Can’t risk you. As if Edge mattered. “It’s fine. I’m immune.” Edge assumed so, at any rate. He knew he couldn’t catch other human diseases, and he didn’t see why this one would be any different.
“Nobody’s immune, baby. But don’t worry. We can work around this.” He pressed closer, his hard cock tucking into the groove of Edge’s hip. “We can be creative.”
“I’m not sure I know how.”
“Sure you do. We have all night. Let’s play.”
He took Edge’s breath away. If the world were a different place and fate didn’t hold Edge so firmly in its grip, he could imagine a lifetime with this man. In dog years, at least.
Terry planted a kiss on Edge’s nose and another on his forehead. He ran fingertips along Edge’s scalp. Then he pulled back a tiny bit to run his hands across Edge’s chest, flicking the nipples with his thumb in passing.
Smiling, Edge copied him and was gratified when Terry huffed and thrust his hips forward. “Fast learner.”
“I try.” Bravely, Edge scraped a fingernail gently over each of Terry’s nipples, and when the reaction proved satisfactory, did it again. He’d never had the opportunity to play with a man’s body before, and he liked it a lot. He hoped Terry would let him do it for a while. And he hoped Terry would do the same to him.
“You’re sort of amazing,” Terry said. He rubbed his thumb along Edge’s lower lip and into the little divot between the lip and Edge’s chin. Then he lowered his hand to Edge’s neck and slipped a finger under the chain, lifting it. It wasn’t a terribly thick chain, although at times it felt unbearably heavy. The boss had placed it around Edge’s neck the day Edge arrived at the estate—as he’d done with Butch, Duke, and Holt—using a tool to fasten the ends permanently together.
Now Terry weighed the links on his finger.
And Edge saw the exact moment when comprehension bloomed in Terry’s mind.
Chapter Eight
“You’re… the dog.”
Terry didn’t move as he said the words, and Edge froze too. Terry still held Edge’s necklace—hiscollar—with one finger.
“Yes,” Edge whispered.
