Chapter 37: The Loft Bed
The coffee was bitter, gritty at the bottom of the mug. Michael drank it anyway, the heat a welcome contrast to the deep ache settling in his muscles. Nathan stayed on the floor beside the chair, his back resting against it, his gaze fixed on the fire’s embers. The silent communion of their bodies spoke louder than words ever could.Finally, Nathan stirred.He stood, his knees popping softly. He took Michael’s empty mug and set it on the hearth, then turned. Without asking, he bent and slid one arm under Michael’s knees, the other behind his shoulders, and lifted him from the chair. The blanket fell away.Michael, too spent to protest, let his head loll against Nathan’s shoulder. He was carried to a steep, narrow staircase tucked beside the stone chimney.
The loft was a cave of shadows.The ceiling sloped so sharply Nathan had to duck. Moonlight bled through a single dusty pane, cutting a silver trapezoid across a bare mattress laid directly on the plank floor. Nathan knelt and laid him down on the rough fabric.The springs groaned a familiar protest.
Nathan’s movements became methodical, precise. He leaned over Michael, his face unreadable in the half-light. From a small pile of folded clothes, he retrieved a worn flannel shirt, its softness a stark contrast to his intent. With a sharp, clean tear, he ripped a long strip from the tail.“Give me your hands,” he said, his voice low.
Michael hesitated for only a second.He understood.This was the ritual, the sealing of the sanctuary. He lifted his wrists, crossing them gently above his head. Nathan’s fingers were deft, wrapping the soft cloth tightly but not cruelly around one wrist, then the other, before knotting the ends securely to one of the heavy iron bed frame slats. He tested the bindings, a gentle tug that sent a shiver through Michael’s restrained arms.
“Okay?” Nathan asked, a rough edge of concern in the question.“Yes,” Michael breathed.The vulnerability was terrifying, absolute. And in that terror, a profound calm blossomed.He was tethered.He could not float away.
Nathan undressed slowly this time, his eyes never leaving Michael’s captive form. The moonlight caught the lean definition of his torso, the pale scars, the dark trail of hair leading downward. He knelt between Michael’s spread legs, his hands running up the insides of his thighs, pushing them wider.
“Look at you,” Nathan murmured, almost to himself.“All laid out for me. Just for me.” He leaned down, his tongue tracing a hot, wet path from Michael’s sternum to his navel. He took Michael’s already-hard cock into his mouth again, but this was different from the frantic claiming downstairs.This was slow, deliberate worship. He sucked the head, his tongue flicking the sensitive slit, tasting the faint salt of pre-come. He took him deep, holding him there until Michael’s hips twitched off the mattress, a soft gasp escaping his lips.
Then he released him with a wet sound and moved lower. His hands hooked under Michael’s thighs, lifting him, exposing him utterly. Nathan’s mouth was on him again, but lower now, his tongue a hot, pointed invasion against his asshole. Michael cried out, the sensation shocking and obscenely intimate. Nathan licked and probed, his stubble scratching the tender skin, his tongue pushing inside, loosening him with a ruthless, wet intensity.
“Nathan… please…” Michael begged, his voice ragged.“Please what?” Nathan growled against his skin, his breath scalding. “You want me to fuck this sweet hole?The one I own?”
“Yes! God, yes, please fuck me…”
Nathan rose up on his knees. He spat into his palm, slicking himself with a few rough strokes. He positioned the blunt head of his cock at Michael’s entrance, which was still loose and slick from his mouth. He pushed forward, not with the brutal shearing force of before, but with a slow, inexorable pressure that made Michael feel every millimeter of his invasion.He filled him, achingly deep, until their bodies were fully joined.
For a moment, Nathan didn’t move, just held himself there, buried. He leaned over Michael, his hands braced on either side of his head, his face inches away. “See me,” he commanded, his voice thick.“See who’s inside you.”
Michael looked up. Nathan’s eyes were wild, dark pools in the moonlight, wide with a frantic blend of love and madness and desperate need.Then Nathan began to move.
It was a deep, driving rhythm, each thrust a calculated assertion.The bed frame knocked a steady, percussive beat against the log wall. Nathan’s pace was relentless, his hips pistoning, his balls slapping against Michael’s skin. The force of it shook Michael’s bound body, his wrists straining against the soft cloth. He was being unmade, fractured and rebuilt with every plunge.
“You take it,” Nathan grunted, his composure unraveling.“You take all of me. Gonna fill you so full of my come it leaks out of you tomorrow when you walk. Gonna mark you from the inside.”
“Do it,” Michael sobbed, the pleasure a white-hot brand searing through his core. “Claim me. Make me yours!”
With a final, guttural roar, Nathan hammered into him, his thrusts becoming short, savage jerks. He collapsed forward, his body convulsing as he came, his release pumping hot and deep. The feeling of being filled, truly owned, shattered Michael’s own control. His orgasm ripped through him, a silent, desperate clenching, his come striping his own stomach and chest in the moonlight.
Nathan stayed buried within him, his weight a crushing, welcome anchor.He was trembling, a fine, constant shiver. Slowly, he raised a hand and with fumbling fingers, began to untie the knot binding Michael’s wrists. The cloth fell away, and Michael’s arms, numb and aching, flopped down to his sides.Nathan rolled off, lying on his back beside him. Their breathing filled the small space, loud in the sudden quiet. After a long while, Nathan reached out, his fingers finding Michael’s in the dark.He linked them together, a simple, tight clasp.
“The creek tomorrow,” Nathan whispered, his voice hoarse and utterly drained. “I promised.”
“I want to see it,” Michael said softly.He turned his head on the mattress. In the dim light, he could see the faint, satisfied curve of Nathan’s mouth.Below them, the fire had died to ashes. The glass-eyed animals kept their vigil in the dark, but their stares felt different now. They were witnesses, not judges.