Micah kept petting his beard and hair.
“I heard you scream,” Travis whispered brokenly. “I thought… Micah… I…”
“He didn’t hurt me.”
They were unmoving, joined, Travis’s cock embedded deep in Micah’s body, and Micah could easily feel the shivers running through Travis. He didn’t want Travis to think about the past half an hour when they made love.
“Fuck me and listen to me now,” Micah told him. “Watch my face when you make me come.”
And then he kissed Travis again. He roped his arms around Travis’s shoulders and tightened his legs around Travis’s waist. He sighed with relief when Travis kissed him back. Then Travis turned them and slid down the wall until he sat on the floor with Micah in his lap.
“Watch me,” Micah implored again.
When Travis nodded, their noses rubbed together.
Micah was open everywhere. Without any effort, he simply leaned back, thrust a few times, and lowered himself at the right angle. Holding Travis’s gaze, he let Travis’s cock slide into his womb. The pleasure exploded from deep within, sending shock waves of delight outward, and he shouted with ecstasy. Maybe the long minutes of cramping pain had made him even more sensitive. Whatever the reason, Micah’s orgasm was endless bliss as he rocked slowly in Travis’s lap.
Travis surrounded him. He seemed to be everywhere, inside and outside. Hot palms soothed Micah’s back, wet kisses rained on his face, his throat, his shoulders, and Travis’s voice flooded his mind as his lover moaned and grunted with pleasure.
I belong to Travis now. Nobody else can touch me.
Eleven
Travis
“Of course, you want cock. But see, I’m not touching your fucked-out hole.”
That disgusting lowlife. Gritting his teeth, Travis gripped the wooden stiles tighter. He waited until Peter spoke again and then pulled.
“I’m not going to degrade myself by coming into that filthy dumpster. Not after he’s stretched you out like a dirty sock.”
The chair squeaked but held intact. Every time Peter spewed more nonsense, every time Micah whimpered, Travis pulled, laboring to pry the stiles off the chair.
Sweat poured down his temples and into his eyes as he suffered through every second of silence, trying to stay immobile. Waiting for Peter to speak again was demeaning, infuriating. But having to wait for Micah to groan was true agony. When Micah screamed, Travis’s whole body seized with an echo of his anguish. His muscles throbbed with pure fury as he bowed, the plastic stripes digging into his skin. Another shriek, so harrowing tears sprang into Travis’s eyes.
I’m coming for you, Micah. I’m coming. He’s not going to touch you. He’s not allowed to touch you.
“There you go, baby boy. It hurts bad, huh? You need my cock? Say it. Say you need my cock.”
Micah screamed again, and it turned into an exhausted sob, which pierced Travis’s heart. In his mind, Travis saw Micah lying unconscious on the riverbank, he saw him writhing in pain on his living room floor, begging for mercy, and he saw Peter’s hand reaching out, about to touch Micah’s skin.
The stile in Travis’s right hand popped free. Frantic, Travis pulled the zip tie down the wooden pole. His right hand free, he broke the other stile off within a second. He simply lifted the broken chair, dragging the legs out of the loops around his ankles. Now what would work as a weapon? And he needed something to tie the bastard’s hands. Or strangle him. His eyes fell on the toaster. He yanked the black cable from the socket and tore the other end of the machine. One broken stile and a short electric cable in hand, he charged into the living room.
Micah was on all fours, naked, body shaking, and Peter stood by his side, gun in his left hand, jerking off with his right, watching as Micah dry-heaved. Micah had thrown up. Oh, hell no! My darling…
“Fuck, you’re disgusting. Going to have to fuck you in the ass after all.”
Red-hot with fury, Travis swung hard. He hit Peter in the back of his skull, and Peter crumpled to his knees, the gun slipping from his fingers. Travis kicked it out of reach. While the blow had stunned Peter enough to bring him to his knees, he was still conscious, spitting and swearing. Fueled by Micah’s agonizing cries, Travis swiftly tied Peter up and gagged him. Then he emptied the gun and threw it out of the window.
Curled on the floor, gasping for air, Micah stared up at him.
Travis didn’t think. He lifted Micah under his back and knees and