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sonora_conejaPairing: Liam/?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: handcuffs
Summary:
Sometimes Liam just needs something a little different from his normal routine with his live-in boyfriend.
tap-tap-tap
Liam looks up form the magazine he’s not reading, this week’s issue of People, pages six through eight dedicated to a fluff piece about him and Bradley, out with the boys in Central Park. He fucking hates the fact that the paparazzi follow his family around everywhere. Bradley’s just relieved the hub-bub over their relationship’s starting to die down. That the judging seems to have stopped and the normalization has begun. That instead of vicious condemnations in the press, he’s getting rightly praised for being a caring family man. That they can be like any other couple.
Settling down together. Sleeping in boxers. Teasing the boys’ girlfriends. Buying a new bed. Looking at puppies.
Very domestic.
So domestic, actually, that Liam keeps remembering how their relationship started. How curious Bradley was, how eager to try anything, like the entire buttplug episode...he shivers now, just thinking about it. He knows for a fact that the lad kept it all, takes the biggest plug with him on the road sometimes. Maybe he should upgrade Bradley to something better, he muses, momentarily distracted. Maybe something like a vibrator...
tap-tap-tap-tappppp
He unfolds his long legs and walks over to the hotel room door. The Irish actor feels vaguely - no, strike that, extremely guilty - about doing this, but while he loves waking up next to his sweet lad every morning, he has needs. Needs, dammit. Needs he can’t necessarily satisfy with two teenage boys in the apartment and Brad passed out from a long, long day.
And Liam’s away right now. Again. Alone. Without Bradley, without that wonderfully warm, lithe body next to his...
tap-tap
His hand rests on the door chain.
I’m allowed, Liam tells himself, and forces himself to remember that time he caught Bradley cuddling with Patrick, that one time Bradley wanted a threesome with...
tap-ta...
He pulls open the door, leaning on his hand against the opposite wall, effectively blocking the entrance, just in case...
And his jaw drops a little at what he finds waiting for him there.
Tall. Lean. Dark hair falling across deep, sultry eyes. Creamy-smooth skin deliciously visible beneath the translucent white of a half-buttoned shirt. Jeans so tight it looked like he’d been poured into them. And his hands, oh god, that warm hand brushing his chest right now...
“You gonna invite me in, sweetie, or leave me loitering my fine ass out here in the hallway?”
Liam blinks. Swallows. Wow. Just...he wasn’t expecting...and that hint of Louisiana in that honey-sweet voice...
“Don’t got all night,” and the other man’s eyes flick down to Liam’s groin suggestively. “And something tells me you and I are gonna need it, baby, givin’ you everything you paid for.”
“I...” and Liam feels himself collapsing on his arm a bit, heat beginning to pool in his belly. “I... I haven’t paid for it yet.”
That hand glides up, manicured nails dipping into the neck of the actor’s shirt, as the man in the hall opens the rest of his own, letting the see-through material fall open with unconscious grace. Liam swallows again. Oh, fuck...
“Haven’t paid for it yet?” his guest purrs, and presses close, hand tugging a bit harder. “What in the world would keep you from sayin’ no, baby? The service said you sounded positively desperate on the phone.”
Liam chokes a bit, those soft fingers caressing his pulse. “I...I have a boyfriend, you know...”
“Boyfriend?” There’s a soft, gentle laugh. “He ain’t here, baby, and I am. So whaddaya say. Wanna let me in, sweetie?”
He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t... Bradley...Bradley wouldn't...Bradley isn't...
But then, the man, the...the escort, holds up a pair of handcuffs. Real, shining, police-issue handcuffs, and drops them into Liam’s hands. “C’mon, baby,” he drawls, and pushes the somewhat stunned actor aside, sauntering into the hotel room like he owns the fucking place. “I promise I’ll be the best fuck you ever had.”
And as he looks back over his shoulder to say it, his loose shirt slips down his arms, off his wrists, and falls away entirely, right before he disappears into the suite’s bedroom and all that that entails.
Fuck me, Liam thinks, and shuts the hotel door, locking it again with the chain.
That ass is perfect.
He follows the escort into the bedroom, trying to stay calm even as arousal’s firing through his blood, unconsciously tossing the handcuffs from hand to hand, letting cuff and chain and cuff pour down in a cascade of gentle little clinks.
Enough to draw the attention of his evening’s entertainment, and he gets a feral smile. “You asked for those special, I do believe,” the young man says, coming back over to him from where he was dimming the room’s lights. He’s kicked his shoes off already, and his own, not inconsiderable, package is beginning to show through those ridiculous, amazing jeans.
Perfect. Really.
He curls a hand around Liam’s waist, and nips lightly at his neck, higher and higher, punctuating his words with soft, teasing little kisses. “So, who do you want wearin’ ‘em, baby? You?” The next kiss is on his jaw. “Me?”
The escort kisses his cheek, and Liam growls a little, shoving him off before he can go where the actor thinks he’s going. “No kissing,” he warns. “You don’t get to kiss.”
Something angry flashes through those eyes, like something’s trying come out, but it all smooths away, and the saccarin, teasing expression is firmly back. “Well, isn’t that sweet? You keep that for your boyfriend, baby?”
“I love him,” Liam rumbles, flicking the cuffs open with one big hand. “Him. You understand that?”
“I understand, baby. Keepin’ something special for your boy.” A throaty little moan fills the air, and the escort dips, still smiling, sucking at one of Liam’s nipples through the fabric of his own shirt. It puckers up, hardening instantly. “I admire that in a man.”
Liam, trying to breath normally, cock swelling, heart beginning to race, tasting the evening yet to come, fists a handful of that smooth, dark hair in his free hand and pulls him clean off. The escort moans again, whorish, wanton, eyelashes fluttering as Liam forces him back.
“Oh baby...cuffs are for me, then?”
“Damn right they are,” Liam growls
That feral, excited, fake, impossibly sexy smile is back, and there’s no resistance at all as the actor forces the younger man’s arms behind his back. He snaps the cuffs on, his fingers shaking a little, need coursing through his body, and the escort does not do a damn thing to help his self control, pressing in, rubbing himself against Liam’s chest as those cuffs go on, locking lean arms behind a sculpted back.
“Oh, oh, baby...”
“Shut up,” Liam mutters, and yanks down on the chain between the cuffs.
The escort takes the hint, and sinks to his knees with preternatural grace, laying his cheek against the older man’s thigh. The chain clinks. Another moan. All that bare skin. Fuck, it’s pornographic and dirty and wrong, wrong in every way, and Liam can’t help how much that is turning him on right now, how his hands are shaking with need as he unbuttons his fly, how fucking hard he is, his cock springing straight out.
Dark eyes turn up to meet his, the slightest hint of blue visible around the edge of a contact, maybe, but it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing but pure sin there. And good god in heaven, despite everything, every other consideration he might have, Liam wants it. Wants that. Wants to feel it...
He fists a hand around the base of his cock, letting the swelling head trace the line of the escort’s fine jaw. “Suck my dick,” he orders darkly.
The younger man obediently parts his lips, laughing a soft, seductive laugh.
Liam feeds his cock, inch by inch, into that waiting mouth. Sometimes more, sometimes less, pulling out and pushing in, trying to figure out what feels best. It’s amazing. More than amazing. A wet inferno, a clever tongue probing and swirling and teasing, fuck, so, so teasing... and then the escort does something with lips and tongue, right on the base of the head, sucking hard at the same time.
It’s one of his absolute favorite things, that move, and he falls back against the nearest wall, groaning out loud, pleasure tinging his voice.
“You like that, baby?” the escort asks, popping off with an obscene slurping sound. He places a light kiss right on the tip of Liam’s cock, sucking once, very, very lightly. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Umphhhh...” Liam groans, thoughts scattering as the whore takes the head of his cock in further, stroking himself a little, mindlessly. “N-not, not exactly what I...”
“Maybe this then?” And those sinful lips move pull one of his balls into that perfect heat beyond. “Like that, baby?” He goes to suck on the other, tugging slightly outward as he does, coming off and blowing a stream of amazingly cool air across that heated skin. “Is that a bit closer, baby?”
That baby, oh god, that smooth Southern voice drawling out that baby...and Liam fists a hand into that dark hair, feeling it slip against his fingers as a hot tongue slides up the underside of his rock-hard shaft, base to tip.
“Love your cock, baby,” the evening’s escort purrs, punctuating his words with little teasing kisses around that reddened tip. “It’s so big and so, so beautiful...”
Liam moaned again, and jerked that head back, staring down into dark, greedy eyes. He takes a firmer grip on his own cock and rubs the damp, drooling head against one smooth cheek. “Think you can take it all?”
The younger man bites his lip, gleaming with precum, smiling that wanton smile from before. “I jus’ love a challenge,” he drawls, and parts his lips once more. In invitation, the actor thinks, and then his suite-guest lunges, hands or no hands.
Swallowing him the to the root.
“Fuck!” Liam yelps, and falls back against the wall, seeing spots. It’s so tight, that throat, silky smooth and flexing around his cock, swallowing hard, again and again and again. A sublime sensation, all of it, and as he gets his hands back in that sleek hair, pushing down as his hips thrust a little of their own accord, he remembers how long it took Bradley to learn this trick, wanting to do that for him. How his sweet lad had begged after every unsuccessful attempt to try again, for Liam to show him, so he could get it right...
And then, as if the escort knows he’s thinking about his boyfriend - lover, partner, surrogate father to the boys, Liam thinks wildly - those dark eyes flick up to meet his, watering, happy and the stretched corners of that fucking talented mouth curl up just a bit and he moans.
“Okay, lad, lad, stop!” Liam groans, vibrations coursing through his body, tingling out to his fingers, balls drawing up dangerously, and has to forcibly pull that dark head off his dick. “Stop!”
The escort sprawls backward, falling on his delectable ass, hands caught underneath him, and he’s panting. Hard. Sweat’s forming on his brow and his skin is flushed clear down to the rise of his pecs, hair curling up around his eyes. Cock obviously hard inside those impossibly tight jeans. It’s a beautiful sight, sin personified, and as if he knows he’s being examined, the young man smirks, arches, rolls a shoulder around and back. Parts his lips, showing just enough teeth to make Liam shiver.
He can’t help but stare.
Fuck. That body, those eyes...
He can’t...can’t help it at all.
“Wanna fuck me, baby?” that whorish, sultry voice asks, and the young man runs the instep of his foot up the outside of Liam’s calf. “Wanna fuck my tight ass? Split me open and make me take every inch o' your beautiful cock and come inside me? That's what I want. I wanna feel you rippin' me apart...”
“Brat,” he growls, tenuous self-control snapping completely, and lunges down to grab those handcuffs.
The escort laughs - a beautiful, free laugh - as the actor tosses him across the bed, face down. Those hips lift automatically, and then drop, grinding his crotch into the bed. Those dark, hungry eyes turn to meet his once again. “Come on, baby,” and that delectable ass rolls, just for him. “Want that beautiful cock inside me, want everythin’ you got...”
A feral growl rips loose of Liam, and he straddles the back of the escort’s legs, moving over him, and drops low to palm his ass through those jeans, rubbing a figure-eight around the flexing muscle beneath. Wanting...wanting to. “You can’t handle everything I’ve got, lad.”
“Mmm,” the evening’s entertainment purrs, rolling over on his side, reaching back to stroke his hands, one over the other in a waterfall of sensation, across the Liam’s velvety cock. The older man feels his eyes roll back in his head. “I think I can handle,” and he squeezes, just a bit, “everythin’ you got, baby.”
That ass wriggles, and one clever, cuffed hand snaps up the waistband of those designer jeans.
Liam can’t help himself, can’t stop himself. This is what he’s been missing the past month or so. This is what he’s been missing. Pure, filthy, fucking wonderful kink. Bradley’s adventurous streak. Bradley’s experimentation. Bradley... Everything they’ve done together, everything they give each other... and fuck, Liam needed this. Needs it. Needs this young man beneath him, bought and paid, milky and sweet and willing and writhing. The actor’s overheated and over-stimulated and throbbing, throbbing with need to bury himself balls-deep in something tight and hot.
But first...
He pulls back, kneeling up, hand still stroking that fine ass, and chuckles.
Dark eyes are watching him.
“Naughty, lad,” he smiles.
And spanks him.
Hard.
The escort strains forward, keening, and it’s such a tasty noise Liam does it again. And again. Those eyes locked on him the whole time. And the lad grinds back again, moaning like the whore he is tonight, thrusting up to drag the crack of his ass up across Liam’s exposed cock. “Oh, baby, baby, please, let me have this cock, I want it so bad...”
He spanks once more, harder than the rest, shoving the escort forward and leans over him, grabbing a condom off the nightstand, rutting down into him. “Oh, you’re going to get it tonight, lad,” he growls, snapping his teeth by the escort’s ear, and rips the little package open.
Liam’s hands are shaking, with excitement or nervousness, he’s not sure, but it doesn’t matter, cause he get the rubber on and rips those jeans down and palms the perfect globes of that ass, fist around his cock, holding the pulsing, rigid flesh, right there, right at that sweet, slick hole. Are they doing this? Is he doing this? Is he really about to fuck a...
“Oh, goddammit it,” he hears the lad mutter.
And then Liam gasps as that ass pushes back against him, taking him in in one, long, hot, tight, fucking perfect slide.
Taking him all the way, the escort’s ass touching against his stomach.
A dark smile, thrown over a sweating, heaving shoulder. “Took the liberty, honey,” that smooth American accent pulls out. “Hope you don’ mind...”
Regaining himself, Liam’s hands are drawn magnetically to that lean, flexing waist as he adjusts to the clenching furnace of that truly tight ass. Beneath him, ass canted up, hands low, cuffed, face smashed into the pillow, the escort’s gasping. “Not so cocky now, are we lad?” Liam cooes, barely keeping it together. He circles that fine waist, curling a hand around the escort’s own, hard cock. “Move on me, lad,” he orders, and slaps him lightly forward again. “Make me come, if you want it so bad.”
The young man lets out a particularly loud moan, one that cuts right through Liam, and jams back.
It’s all downhill from there. Or uphill. Or something, Liam’s not really sure what’s going on at the moment. It’s hot and it’s dirty and it’s rough, no pace, nothing sweet, no emotional connection or cuddles or romance or any of that bullshit.
No, it’s a good, hard fuck, him driving forward, his partner slamming back, both of them moaning and shivering and sweating more, the slap of wet flesh and that soft squelch of lube the escort pre-gamed with, and the metallic clank of chains. The young man’s moaning dirty, dirty things, egging Liam on, begging him to fuck him harder, fuck him faster, ooh, baby, there, there, please, more, more! Come in my ass, come... and it’s all too much, far too much. His body feels like it’s rattling apart, pushing up that gradient towards his own release It’s wrong and filthy and wrong, but dear god, that ass...
He grabs and yanks on that cock, falling forward. “Come for me, you whore,” he growls, low and deep in his throat, barely recognizing his own voice and gets an answering, guttural groan in return.
The man beneath him falls apart, orgasm ripping through him, hot semen splashing through Liam’s hand to coat the duvet in broad sweeps of white, every muscle in him locking up. Locking up around the actor’s cock, and that’s it, that pulls him over...
His teeth sink into the smooth skin of a shoulder and he damn near screams as he comes, balls emptying into the latex of the condom, the depths of that hot, hot body, and he tastes blood in his mouth as he tumbles into nothingness.
Liam shudders, coming back to himself, on his back and cock soft against his thigh. The condom’s gone, the mess wiped away, and he feels so, so cool, compared to only a few moments ago...
“Glad to see you’re awake, darlin’,” that suddenly infuriating accent drawls, and he looks over at where the young man is buttoning up that paper-thin white shirt. Shoes back on, the handcuffs are gone, nothing but an outline in his pocket, the slightest hint of red chapping where the metal bit at his pale skin. He still looks a bit flushed.
He still looks fucking gorgeous.
“Yes, lad, awake,” Liam murmurs, and pats the bed next to him. “And you?”
The younger man winks, and holds up the white envelop the actor left on the dresser earlier. “There’s a bit more in here than we agreed.”
“Call it a tip.”
“I thought you Europeans didn’t give tips,” he says lightly, and shoves it in his pocket, sauntering over. “But I’m much obliged to you for it, baby...”
“I had a feeling it was going to be good with you tonight,” he says, reaching up a still-weak hand to circle that bruised wrist lightly. “But do you really have to leave?”
“Mmm, baby, I done what I came here for tonight. Time for me to go,” the escort says, smiling at him from beneath a mop of mussed, sweaty hair. But despite those words, he sits down, right next to Liam, something bright in those dark eyes, something real, and he runs a soft hand around the join of the older man’s jaw. “Can I thank you proper for that tip?”
Liam grins tiredly. “Thank you how?”
“Like this,” the escort says, and snakes down, graceful as a snake, and touches his lips very, very gently to Liam’s own.
The actor growls, body responding, and he grabs a belt loop, dark hair, wanting that body closer to his, wanting to feel it, wanting Bradley here with him, his sweet lad, sweaty and fucked out and gorgeous, ready to cuddle up, ready to go another round...
But the escort pushes back with a very small, very genuine, moan, undulating away, his finger on Liam’s lips the last part of him to leave.
“Been a pleasure, baby,” he says softly, and he’s gone.
Liam lays back down, not realizing he was holding his breath until he sees the last wiggle of that tight ass. Not so tight any more, he thinks, a bit smug, staring up at the ceiling. He hears the hotel room door open and snick shut again.
He starts counting.
Sixty seconds.
Eighty.
Ninety.
And he’s about to get up and go look and figure what the hell is...
“Sweetie...”
His head jerks up off the bed, and oh yeah, there it is. What he’s been waiting for.
Bradley. His Bradley. His own, sweet Bradley. No plaything, no role, everything stripped away, that beautiful man shining free once again. Standing there in the door, arm up high against the jamb, head leaning on one lean bicep. He’s in nothing but a pair of loose cotton sleep-pants, the checked green ones he bought last week, ties undone, the waistband low around his hips.
But best of all, those contacts are gone.
He smiles, like he knows what Liam’s thinking about, and the older man holds out a hand to him, beckoning him over. His lover pads over, covering a yawn with the back of his hand, and flops down right next to him.
Liam touches the bite mark on his neck, kissing it in the wake of his fingers. “Sorry, lad, I couldn’t help myself...”
“Don’t think you could help yourself through the whole damn thing,” Bradley laughs, and scoots in close, letting their feet slide against each other. “Damn near wore me out.”
“It didn’t show. You were brilliant,” the Irishman tells him, feeling a fresh wave of love for his man, playing that part so well.
He grins again, and tugs one of Liam’s arms up around his shoulder, lay his head down, playing the pads of his fingers against Liam’s big palm. “And you are a kinky bastard, Neeson.”
“Tell me you didn’t love it, Cooper,” Liam smiles back, and kisses his cheek.
Bradley nods, that smile rueful now. He touches the bite, sending a thrill through the older man. “Yeah, well, it has been a pretty dry month for us, with the boys and work and everything...”
“Yeah. It’s important to me, too, that we keep the spark alive, lad,” Liam echoes, squeezing Bradley’s shoulder close to him. “And this was good.”
“Really, really good,” the younger man concedes. “You have the best fantasies...”
“We’ll have to do one of yours next,” he agrees, and leans his head on his boy’s, just breathing for a minute.
“Mm, Liam?” Bradley asks, turning into him, that tension running through him that always, always means he’s nervous about something. “Liam, would you...would you actually ever...you know...pay for a man? Like that? Without...without me?”
He moans a little, and turns, capturing his lad’s soft mouth, kissing him gently. “Never, Bradley. I’d never betray you like that...”
“I know you wouldn’t,”Bradley sighs, and runs a hand through the older man’s light chest hair. He’s trying to sound light, but instead he sounds relieved instead, and Liam kisses him again.
They lie there for a moment more, the cool air of the room a balm on Liam’s still-sensitve skin. And then he thinks of something.
“You gonna give me back my five hundred dollars?”
It’s Bradley’s turn to chuckle. “Not a chance. I earned that, remember?”
“We were playing a game...”
“I did have to go buy new jeans for it. Dear god. You know how expensive those were?”
Liam smiles up at the ceiling, folding Bradley’s hand into his, finding it from touch alone. “You looked amazing...”
“Yeah?”
“I think I like you in the loungers better.”
Bradley rolls over and lays half over him, blue eyes dancing. “Yeah? I thought you liked me naked.”
“Oh, I like that, too. Very much so. But if you have to be in clothes...” and he snaps the waistband of Bradley’s sleep pants. “I’ll buy you breakfast if you give me the envelop back.”
“Not a chance, old man,” Bradley breathes, and nips at his ear, pressing on Liam’s shoulders, giving himself the leverage to roll on top, clinging tight. “And for the record,” he says, letting his ass roll back, just once, over Liam’s hardening cock, “I do really, really love your cock, baby.”
Liam laughs, and tackles him around to the bed, seeing nothing but a smile, and those beautiful eyes, and those loungers that just have to go.
“I think I’m in the mood for some kinky domestic, the boys-are-in-the-next-room, lets-be-quiet, sex now, love,” he whispers.
And Bradley shivers.
How wonderful, Liam thinks, and slips a hand beneath the waistband of those soft, soft pants.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: handcuffs
Summary:
Sometimes Liam just needs something a little different from his normal routine with his live-in boyfriend.
tap-tap-tap
Liam looks up form the magazine he’s not reading, this week’s issue of People, pages six through eight dedicated to a fluff piece about him and Bradley, out with the boys in Central Park. He fucking hates the fact that the paparazzi follow his family around everywhere. Bradley’s just relieved the hub-bub over their relationship’s starting to die down. That the judging seems to have stopped and the normalization has begun. That instead of vicious condemnations in the press, he’s getting rightly praised for being a caring family man. That they can be like any other couple.
Settling down together. Sleeping in boxers. Teasing the boys’ girlfriends. Buying a new bed. Looking at puppies.
Very domestic.
So domestic, actually, that Liam keeps remembering how their relationship started. How curious Bradley was, how eager to try anything, like the entire buttplug episode...he shivers now, just thinking about it. He knows for a fact that the lad kept it all, takes the biggest plug with him on the road sometimes. Maybe he should upgrade Bradley to something better, he muses, momentarily distracted. Maybe something like a vibrator...
tap-tap-tap-tappppp
He unfolds his long legs and walks over to the hotel room door. The Irish actor feels vaguely - no, strike that, extremely guilty - about doing this, but while he loves waking up next to his sweet lad every morning, he has needs. Needs, dammit. Needs he can’t necessarily satisfy with two teenage boys in the apartment and Brad passed out from a long, long day.
And Liam’s away right now. Again. Alone. Without Bradley, without that wonderfully warm, lithe body next to his...
tap-tap
His hand rests on the door chain.
I’m allowed, Liam tells himself, and forces himself to remember that time he caught Bradley cuddling with Patrick, that one time Bradley wanted a threesome with...
tap-ta...
He pulls open the door, leaning on his hand against the opposite wall, effectively blocking the entrance, just in case...
And his jaw drops a little at what he finds waiting for him there.
Tall. Lean. Dark hair falling across deep, sultry eyes. Creamy-smooth skin deliciously visible beneath the translucent white of a half-buttoned shirt. Jeans so tight it looked like he’d been poured into them. And his hands, oh god, that warm hand brushing his chest right now...
“You gonna invite me in, sweetie, or leave me loitering my fine ass out here in the hallway?”
Liam blinks. Swallows. Wow. Just...he wasn’t expecting...and that hint of Louisiana in that honey-sweet voice...
“Don’t got all night,” and the other man’s eyes flick down to Liam’s groin suggestively. “And something tells me you and I are gonna need it, baby, givin’ you everything you paid for.”
“I...” and Liam feels himself collapsing on his arm a bit, heat beginning to pool in his belly. “I... I haven’t paid for it yet.”
That hand glides up, manicured nails dipping into the neck of the actor’s shirt, as the man in the hall opens the rest of his own, letting the see-through material fall open with unconscious grace. Liam swallows again. Oh, fuck...
“Haven’t paid for it yet?” his guest purrs, and presses close, hand tugging a bit harder. “What in the world would keep you from sayin’ no, baby? The service said you sounded positively desperate on the phone.”
Liam chokes a bit, those soft fingers caressing his pulse. “I...I have a boyfriend, you know...”
“Boyfriend?” There’s a soft, gentle laugh. “He ain’t here, baby, and I am. So whaddaya say. Wanna let me in, sweetie?”
He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t... Bradley...Bradley wouldn't...Bradley isn't...
But then, the man, the...the escort, holds up a pair of handcuffs. Real, shining, police-issue handcuffs, and drops them into Liam’s hands. “C’mon, baby,” he drawls, and pushes the somewhat stunned actor aside, sauntering into the hotel room like he owns the fucking place. “I promise I’ll be the best fuck you ever had.”
And as he looks back over his shoulder to say it, his loose shirt slips down his arms, off his wrists, and falls away entirely, right before he disappears into the suite’s bedroom and all that that entails.
Fuck me, Liam thinks, and shuts the hotel door, locking it again with the chain.
That ass is perfect.
He follows the escort into the bedroom, trying to stay calm even as arousal’s firing through his blood, unconsciously tossing the handcuffs from hand to hand, letting cuff and chain and cuff pour down in a cascade of gentle little clinks.
Enough to draw the attention of his evening’s entertainment, and he gets a feral smile. “You asked for those special, I do believe,” the young man says, coming back over to him from where he was dimming the room’s lights. He’s kicked his shoes off already, and his own, not inconsiderable, package is beginning to show through those ridiculous, amazing jeans.
Perfect. Really.
He curls a hand around Liam’s waist, and nips lightly at his neck, higher and higher, punctuating his words with soft, teasing little kisses. “So, who do you want wearin’ ‘em, baby? You?” The next kiss is on his jaw. “Me?”
The escort kisses his cheek, and Liam growls a little, shoving him off before he can go where the actor thinks he’s going. “No kissing,” he warns. “You don’t get to kiss.”
Something angry flashes through those eyes, like something’s trying come out, but it all smooths away, and the saccarin, teasing expression is firmly back. “Well, isn’t that sweet? You keep that for your boyfriend, baby?”
“I love him,” Liam rumbles, flicking the cuffs open with one big hand. “Him. You understand that?”
“I understand, baby. Keepin’ something special for your boy.” A throaty little moan fills the air, and the escort dips, still smiling, sucking at one of Liam’s nipples through the fabric of his own shirt. It puckers up, hardening instantly. “I admire that in a man.”
Liam, trying to breath normally, cock swelling, heart beginning to race, tasting the evening yet to come, fists a handful of that smooth, dark hair in his free hand and pulls him clean off. The escort moans again, whorish, wanton, eyelashes fluttering as Liam forces him back.
“Oh baby...cuffs are for me, then?”
“Damn right they are,” Liam growls
That feral, excited, fake, impossibly sexy smile is back, and there’s no resistance at all as the actor forces the younger man’s arms behind his back. He snaps the cuffs on, his fingers shaking a little, need coursing through his body, and the escort does not do a damn thing to help his self control, pressing in, rubbing himself against Liam’s chest as those cuffs go on, locking lean arms behind a sculpted back.
“Oh, oh, baby...”
“Shut up,” Liam mutters, and yanks down on the chain between the cuffs.
The escort takes the hint, and sinks to his knees with preternatural grace, laying his cheek against the older man’s thigh. The chain clinks. Another moan. All that bare skin. Fuck, it’s pornographic and dirty and wrong, wrong in every way, and Liam can’t help how much that is turning him on right now, how his hands are shaking with need as he unbuttons his fly, how fucking hard he is, his cock springing straight out.
Dark eyes turn up to meet his, the slightest hint of blue visible around the edge of a contact, maybe, but it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing but pure sin there. And good god in heaven, despite everything, every other consideration he might have, Liam wants it. Wants that. Wants to feel it...
He fists a hand around the base of his cock, letting the swelling head trace the line of the escort’s fine jaw. “Suck my dick,” he orders darkly.
The younger man obediently parts his lips, laughing a soft, seductive laugh.
Liam feeds his cock, inch by inch, into that waiting mouth. Sometimes more, sometimes less, pulling out and pushing in, trying to figure out what feels best. It’s amazing. More than amazing. A wet inferno, a clever tongue probing and swirling and teasing, fuck, so, so teasing... and then the escort does something with lips and tongue, right on the base of the head, sucking hard at the same time.
It’s one of his absolute favorite things, that move, and he falls back against the nearest wall, groaning out loud, pleasure tinging his voice.
“You like that, baby?” the escort asks, popping off with an obscene slurping sound. He places a light kiss right on the tip of Liam’s cock, sucking once, very, very lightly. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Umphhhh...” Liam groans, thoughts scattering as the whore takes the head of his cock in further, stroking himself a little, mindlessly. “N-not, not exactly what I...”
“Maybe this then?” And those sinful lips move pull one of his balls into that perfect heat beyond. “Like that, baby?” He goes to suck on the other, tugging slightly outward as he does, coming off and blowing a stream of amazingly cool air across that heated skin. “Is that a bit closer, baby?”
That baby, oh god, that smooth Southern voice drawling out that baby...and Liam fists a hand into that dark hair, feeling it slip against his fingers as a hot tongue slides up the underside of his rock-hard shaft, base to tip.
“Love your cock, baby,” the evening’s escort purrs, punctuating his words with little teasing kisses around that reddened tip. “It’s so big and so, so beautiful...”
Liam moaned again, and jerked that head back, staring down into dark, greedy eyes. He takes a firmer grip on his own cock and rubs the damp, drooling head against one smooth cheek. “Think you can take it all?”
The younger man bites his lip, gleaming with precum, smiling that wanton smile from before. “I jus’ love a challenge,” he drawls, and parts his lips once more. In invitation, the actor thinks, and then his suite-guest lunges, hands or no hands.
Swallowing him the to the root.
“Fuck!” Liam yelps, and falls back against the wall, seeing spots. It’s so tight, that throat, silky smooth and flexing around his cock, swallowing hard, again and again and again. A sublime sensation, all of it, and as he gets his hands back in that sleek hair, pushing down as his hips thrust a little of their own accord, he remembers how long it took Bradley to learn this trick, wanting to do that for him. How his sweet lad had begged after every unsuccessful attempt to try again, for Liam to show him, so he could get it right...
And then, as if the escort knows he’s thinking about his boyfriend - lover, partner, surrogate father to the boys, Liam thinks wildly - those dark eyes flick up to meet his, watering, happy and the stretched corners of that fucking talented mouth curl up just a bit and he moans.
“Okay, lad, lad, stop!” Liam groans, vibrations coursing through his body, tingling out to his fingers, balls drawing up dangerously, and has to forcibly pull that dark head off his dick. “Stop!”
The escort sprawls backward, falling on his delectable ass, hands caught underneath him, and he’s panting. Hard. Sweat’s forming on his brow and his skin is flushed clear down to the rise of his pecs, hair curling up around his eyes. Cock obviously hard inside those impossibly tight jeans. It’s a beautiful sight, sin personified, and as if he knows he’s being examined, the young man smirks, arches, rolls a shoulder around and back. Parts his lips, showing just enough teeth to make Liam shiver.
He can’t help but stare.
Fuck. That body, those eyes...
He can’t...can’t help it at all.
“Wanna fuck me, baby?” that whorish, sultry voice asks, and the young man runs the instep of his foot up the outside of Liam’s calf. “Wanna fuck my tight ass? Split me open and make me take every inch o' your beautiful cock and come inside me? That's what I want. I wanna feel you rippin' me apart...”
“Brat,” he growls, tenuous self-control snapping completely, and lunges down to grab those handcuffs.
The escort laughs - a beautiful, free laugh - as the actor tosses him across the bed, face down. Those hips lift automatically, and then drop, grinding his crotch into the bed. Those dark, hungry eyes turn to meet his once again. “Come on, baby,” and that delectable ass rolls, just for him. “Want that beautiful cock inside me, want everythin’ you got...”
A feral growl rips loose of Liam, and he straddles the back of the escort’s legs, moving over him, and drops low to palm his ass through those jeans, rubbing a figure-eight around the flexing muscle beneath. Wanting...wanting to. “You can’t handle everything I’ve got, lad.”
“Mmm,” the evening’s entertainment purrs, rolling over on his side, reaching back to stroke his hands, one over the other in a waterfall of sensation, across the Liam’s velvety cock. The older man feels his eyes roll back in his head. “I think I can handle,” and he squeezes, just a bit, “everythin’ you got, baby.”
That ass wriggles, and one clever, cuffed hand snaps up the waistband of those designer jeans.
Liam can’t help himself, can’t stop himself. This is what he’s been missing the past month or so. This is what he’s been missing. Pure, filthy, fucking wonderful kink. Bradley’s adventurous streak. Bradley’s experimentation. Bradley... Everything they’ve done together, everything they give each other... and fuck, Liam needed this. Needs it. Needs this young man beneath him, bought and paid, milky and sweet and willing and writhing. The actor’s overheated and over-stimulated and throbbing, throbbing with need to bury himself balls-deep in something tight and hot.
But first...
He pulls back, kneeling up, hand still stroking that fine ass, and chuckles.
Dark eyes are watching him.
“Naughty, lad,” he smiles.
And spanks him.
Hard.
The escort strains forward, keening, and it’s such a tasty noise Liam does it again. And again. Those eyes locked on him the whole time. And the lad grinds back again, moaning like the whore he is tonight, thrusting up to drag the crack of his ass up across Liam’s exposed cock. “Oh, baby, baby, please, let me have this cock, I want it so bad...”
He spanks once more, harder than the rest, shoving the escort forward and leans over him, grabbing a condom off the nightstand, rutting down into him. “Oh, you’re going to get it tonight, lad,” he growls, snapping his teeth by the escort’s ear, and rips the little package open.
Liam’s hands are shaking, with excitement or nervousness, he’s not sure, but it doesn’t matter, cause he get the rubber on and rips those jeans down and palms the perfect globes of that ass, fist around his cock, holding the pulsing, rigid flesh, right there, right at that sweet, slick hole. Are they doing this? Is he doing this? Is he really about to fuck a...
“Oh, goddammit it,” he hears the lad mutter.
And then Liam gasps as that ass pushes back against him, taking him in in one, long, hot, tight, fucking perfect slide.
Taking him all the way, the escort’s ass touching against his stomach.
A dark smile, thrown over a sweating, heaving shoulder. “Took the liberty, honey,” that smooth American accent pulls out. “Hope you don’ mind...”
Regaining himself, Liam’s hands are drawn magnetically to that lean, flexing waist as he adjusts to the clenching furnace of that truly tight ass. Beneath him, ass canted up, hands low, cuffed, face smashed into the pillow, the escort’s gasping. “Not so cocky now, are we lad?” Liam cooes, barely keeping it together. He circles that fine waist, curling a hand around the escort’s own, hard cock. “Move on me, lad,” he orders, and slaps him lightly forward again. “Make me come, if you want it so bad.”
The young man lets out a particularly loud moan, one that cuts right through Liam, and jams back.
It’s all downhill from there. Or uphill. Or something, Liam’s not really sure what’s going on at the moment. It’s hot and it’s dirty and it’s rough, no pace, nothing sweet, no emotional connection or cuddles or romance or any of that bullshit.
No, it’s a good, hard fuck, him driving forward, his partner slamming back, both of them moaning and shivering and sweating more, the slap of wet flesh and that soft squelch of lube the escort pre-gamed with, and the metallic clank of chains. The young man’s moaning dirty, dirty things, egging Liam on, begging him to fuck him harder, fuck him faster, ooh, baby, there, there, please, more, more! Come in my ass, come... and it’s all too much, far too much. His body feels like it’s rattling apart, pushing up that gradient towards his own release It’s wrong and filthy and wrong, but dear god, that ass...
He grabs and yanks on that cock, falling forward. “Come for me, you whore,” he growls, low and deep in his throat, barely recognizing his own voice and gets an answering, guttural groan in return.
The man beneath him falls apart, orgasm ripping through him, hot semen splashing through Liam’s hand to coat the duvet in broad sweeps of white, every muscle in him locking up. Locking up around the actor’s cock, and that’s it, that pulls him over...
His teeth sink into the smooth skin of a shoulder and he damn near screams as he comes, balls emptying into the latex of the condom, the depths of that hot, hot body, and he tastes blood in his mouth as he tumbles into nothingness.
Liam shudders, coming back to himself, on his back and cock soft against his thigh. The condom’s gone, the mess wiped away, and he feels so, so cool, compared to only a few moments ago...
“Glad to see you’re awake, darlin’,” that suddenly infuriating accent drawls, and he looks over at where the young man is buttoning up that paper-thin white shirt. Shoes back on, the handcuffs are gone, nothing but an outline in his pocket, the slightest hint of red chapping where the metal bit at his pale skin. He still looks a bit flushed.
He still looks fucking gorgeous.
“Yes, lad, awake,” Liam murmurs, and pats the bed next to him. “And you?”
The younger man winks, and holds up the white envelop the actor left on the dresser earlier. “There’s a bit more in here than we agreed.”
“Call it a tip.”
“I thought you Europeans didn’t give tips,” he says lightly, and shoves it in his pocket, sauntering over. “But I’m much obliged to you for it, baby...”
“I had a feeling it was going to be good with you tonight,” he says, reaching up a still-weak hand to circle that bruised wrist lightly. “But do you really have to leave?”
“Mmm, baby, I done what I came here for tonight. Time for me to go,” the escort says, smiling at him from beneath a mop of mussed, sweaty hair. But despite those words, he sits down, right next to Liam, something bright in those dark eyes, something real, and he runs a soft hand around the join of the older man’s jaw. “Can I thank you proper for that tip?”
Liam grins tiredly. “Thank you how?”
“Like this,” the escort says, and snakes down, graceful as a snake, and touches his lips very, very gently to Liam’s own.
The actor growls, body responding, and he grabs a belt loop, dark hair, wanting that body closer to his, wanting to feel it, wanting Bradley here with him, his sweet lad, sweaty and fucked out and gorgeous, ready to cuddle up, ready to go another round...
But the escort pushes back with a very small, very genuine, moan, undulating away, his finger on Liam’s lips the last part of him to leave.
“Been a pleasure, baby,” he says softly, and he’s gone.
Liam lays back down, not realizing he was holding his breath until he sees the last wiggle of that tight ass. Not so tight any more, he thinks, a bit smug, staring up at the ceiling. He hears the hotel room door open and snick shut again.
He starts counting.
Sixty seconds.
Eighty.
Ninety.
And he’s about to get up and go look and figure what the hell is...
“Sweetie...”
His head jerks up off the bed, and oh yeah, there it is. What he’s been waiting for.
Bradley. His Bradley. His own, sweet Bradley. No plaything, no role, everything stripped away, that beautiful man shining free once again. Standing there in the door, arm up high against the jamb, head leaning on one lean bicep. He’s in nothing but a pair of loose cotton sleep-pants, the checked green ones he bought last week, ties undone, the waistband low around his hips.
But best of all, those contacts are gone.
He smiles, like he knows what Liam’s thinking about, and the older man holds out a hand to him, beckoning him over. His lover pads over, covering a yawn with the back of his hand, and flops down right next to him.
Liam touches the bite mark on his neck, kissing it in the wake of his fingers. “Sorry, lad, I couldn’t help myself...”
“Don’t think you could help yourself through the whole damn thing,” Bradley laughs, and scoots in close, letting their feet slide against each other. “Damn near wore me out.”
“It didn’t show. You were brilliant,” the Irishman tells him, feeling a fresh wave of love for his man, playing that part so well.
He grins again, and tugs one of Liam’s arms up around his shoulder, lay his head down, playing the pads of his fingers against Liam’s big palm. “And you are a kinky bastard, Neeson.”
“Tell me you didn’t love it, Cooper,” Liam smiles back, and kisses his cheek.
Bradley nods, that smile rueful now. He touches the bite, sending a thrill through the older man. “Yeah, well, it has been a pretty dry month for us, with the boys and work and everything...”
“Yeah. It’s important to me, too, that we keep the spark alive, lad,” Liam echoes, squeezing Bradley’s shoulder close to him. “And this was good.”
“Really, really good,” the younger man concedes. “You have the best fantasies...”
“We’ll have to do one of yours next,” he agrees, and leans his head on his boy’s, just breathing for a minute.
“Mm, Liam?” Bradley asks, turning into him, that tension running through him that always, always means he’s nervous about something. “Liam, would you...would you actually ever...you know...pay for a man? Like that? Without...without me?”
He moans a little, and turns, capturing his lad’s soft mouth, kissing him gently. “Never, Bradley. I’d never betray you like that...”
“I know you wouldn’t,”Bradley sighs, and runs a hand through the older man’s light chest hair. He’s trying to sound light, but instead he sounds relieved instead, and Liam kisses him again.
They lie there for a moment more, the cool air of the room a balm on Liam’s still-sensitve skin. And then he thinks of something.
“You gonna give me back my five hundred dollars?”
It’s Bradley’s turn to chuckle. “Not a chance. I earned that, remember?”
“We were playing a game...”
“I did have to go buy new jeans for it. Dear god. You know how expensive those were?”
Liam smiles up at the ceiling, folding Bradley’s hand into his, finding it from touch alone. “You looked amazing...”
“Yeah?”
“I think I like you in the loungers better.”
Bradley rolls over and lays half over him, blue eyes dancing. “Yeah? I thought you liked me naked.”
“Oh, I like that, too. Very much so. But if you have to be in clothes...” and he snaps the waistband of Bradley’s sleep pants. “I’ll buy you breakfast if you give me the envelop back.”
“Not a chance, old man,” Bradley breathes, and nips at his ear, pressing on Liam’s shoulders, giving himself the leverage to roll on top, clinging tight. “And for the record,” he says, letting his ass roll back, just once, over Liam’s hardening cock, “I do really, really love your cock, baby.”
Liam laughs, and tackles him around to the bed, seeing nothing but a smile, and those beautiful eyes, and those loungers that just have to go.
“I think I’m in the mood for some kinky domestic, the boys-are-in-the-next-room, lets-be-quiet, sex now, love,” he whispers.
And Bradley shivers.
How wonderful, Liam thinks, and slips a hand beneath the waistband of those soft, soft pants.
