Page 102 of Just Business
So many memories haunted Justin in this room. Good ones—and one bad one that had shattered everything. He shivered, but it had nothing to do with being naked. Thank God Eli’s back was turned. Last thing he wanted was for Eli to pull back. The Dom mask was in place, but there were enough cracks that the Eli who fretted and worried peeked out from beneath the leather pants and the linen shirt and the sly grin.
Eli’s nervousness was heartening. Justin wasn’t alone. They both wanted this and desperately didn’t want to fuck it up.
When Eli turned back, Justin held out the leather collar he’d collected from the attic.
Eli regarded the offering, then met Justin’s stare. “Put it on me.”
Heat flooded Justin, from his soles to the crown of his head. “What?” You didn’t collar a Dom.
Eli tipped his head back, exposing his neck. “Humor me tonight.”
Would it even fit Eli? Only one way to find out. Justin slipped the band around Eli’s neck, threaded the leather through the buckle and tightened. Yes—a bit loose, but better than too tight. By the time Justin lowered his hands to his side, his head was wrapped around a proverbial pole.
Warm fingers cupped his face and Eli kissed him, lips and tongue opening and claiming his mouth until Justin moaned. When Eli broke the kiss, he whispered, “Think about it.”
He had been, his brain reeling from the implications and the kiss. Justin’s collar on Eli’s neck claimed Eli. As surely as Eli claimed Justin. Equals, despite Eli’s orders and Justin’s submission.
Never, ever, in a million years, would Francis have let leather touch his neck like that.
“It’s different.”
Eli’s grin was full of teeth. “That it is.” Another quick kiss. “Up against the cross, Justin.”
This tremble, he didn’t mind Eli seeing. He obeyed, pressing against the cool leather and raising his arm out. Familiar sharp scent and stretch of muscle. Eli’s breath on his back. “I’m going to use rope, like before.”
“Good.”
A kiss between his shoulder blades. “If it becomes uncomfortable, let me know. Talk to me. Yes?”
Eli wore leather around his neck, a band Justin had placed there. “Yeah.” Blood pounded in his ears. Did Francis lurk in his mind this time? Please, no. He’d had more than enough of that man. Of his ghost.
When the rope crossed Justin’s flesh and pulled his arm tight against the leather pad, it was Eli who hummed in his ear. Loop after loop. First his left wrist, then his right. Justin’s cock hardened with each touch, each breath of Eli’s against his skin.
When Eli knelt—with a slight grunt—and pulled Justin’s leg over to be bound, Justin groaned.
“Good or bad?”
“Fucking hot.”
Eli ran his leather-clad hand up the inside of Justin’s thigh, just grazing Justin’s balls. “You have no idea.”
Every nerve in Justin’s leg twitched. He rocked against the cross. “Think I have some.”
The answer to that was a slap on his ass—enough to make him jump and whet his desire, but not hard enough to satisfy. Eli kissed his hip, right where his tattoo was.
“Tease,” Justin muttered.
Eli finished tying one ankle and pushed the other over, spreading Justin’s legs wide. “You’re begging for twelve, aren’t you?”
“I’m begging for more than that.”
Another grunt as Eli stood, then a scrape of teeth at the nape of his neck. No pain. Eli hadn’t bitten, but the warmth and wet enflamed Justin’s blood and made it hard to breathe.
“Well,” Eli said, speaking each word against his neck. “We’ll see if you get what you want or what I want.”
Or both.
Eli stepped back, but not away. He caressed Justin—arms, back, torso, scooping around to tease Justin’s chest and nipples before returning to cup his ass and balls and thighs.
