Kidnapped Ch. 04

Chapter seven

Seb

I come to a decision, of sorts. I'm bored in my room and frustrated that my body seems to want him so much, even when my mind is telling me no, so I wander down the stairs, into the old-fashioned wood-paneled living room. Ollie is there, head bent over a book, long legs curled up underneath him, trying to read but failing dismally. I watch him for a couple minutes and I can see that his eyes aren't traveling across the page and his beautiful face is devoid of expression, like he's trying to switch his brain off.

He hasn't seen me yet, so I move into the room, unsure if he will be annoyed at my presence. He glances up as I sit on the sofa but doesn't say anything. I wince as I curl my legs up, mirroring his position, my muscles stiff and sore from lack of movement over the last few days.

"Are you hurt?" He sounds worried and his eyes shine with concern. But I mustn't fall for that. They all start out being interested in your wellbeing, until they're just not anymore. I shrug, and I know I'm pouting a little, but I can't help it.

"Just stiff. I'm fine."

He unfurls his long legs and stands, leaving the room without another word. I sigh. So much for trying to have interaction.

He returns only a few moments later, with a bottle in his hand.

"Moisturizer. I'll rub your shoulders." His dark skin flushes with a blush as if something occurred to him and he stammers, "J-just to help your muscles. I won't..."

I shrug again, as ambivalently as I can manage. Despite all sense telling me otherwise, I wish he 'would'. I want his hands on me, and more - and it's a precise feeling, I'm somehow aware that it is his attention I want, no one else's.

I pull my borrowed t-shirt over my head and lay on the couch on my stomach, resting my head on my folded arms. Ollie kneels by my side and I take the opportunity to watch him out of my partially closed eyes. His face is neutral as he squirts out a generous measure of the sweet-smelling moisturizer onto his palm and warms it between his hands, no smile on his plump pink lips, but no frown either. I wish I could see his eyes properly; not just because they're literally the most stunning ones I've ever seen -- large, intense, almond-shaped, clear enough to make me want to whimper every time I get the chance to stare into them -- but because I want to evaluate if they're giving anything more away about how he feels now.

He hesitates before touching me and it's all I can do not to tremble in anticipation. I'm becoming unraveled, more so by the minute, and I'm almost ready to beg when he finally reaches forward to lay his hands on my shoulders. He rubs smoothly, in long swooping motions, using his strong thumbs on the upswing to work my knotted back muscles. I can feel myself melting into the fabric of the couch and want to arch my back like a cat to push against his explorative hands. I can see his face, blurred through my lashes, finally no longer blank, full lips parted and moist where he's licked them, eyes, those stunning gunmetal eyes, heavy with lust.

I almost groan at the sight of it; he is too beautiful. He's close, I imagine myself allowing him to realize I'm watching him, reaching my hand out to pull him to me so I can invade his wet mouth with my probing tongue. I'm becoming almost uncomfortably hard pressed against the rough material under me. I can't give into feelings like that. Nevertheless, when his hands go lower, to the curve in my back, I see my chance, his movements are less smooth, it's an uncomfortable position for him to rub me in.

"Ollie, that feels a bit uneven, could you do it from behind me?" I'm tentative but hopeful.

"Really? Sure, if you're okay with that." More than okay, with that and with the way lust makes his already seductive voice sound like a tiger's growl. I shuffle a little as he straddles my hips, resting himself on the curve of my ass. I still don't know where my destination is with this, I can feel my face flushing with gentle shame at the forward thoughts I'm having, but I know I want to go somewhere, at least. I might not have been able to work out if he actually likes this -- if he likes me -- but he's certainly turned on by the situation, and I'll take that, for now.

He rubs, getting into his rhythm now he's in a better position, and I finally do it, arching my back, just a little, into his roaming hands. He makes a noise, a growl at the base of his throat, that makes me bite my lip hard, just so I don't respond with a matching one. It feels like disarming a bomb, I have to be calm and not make any sudden moves if I want him to continue, and I have to retain some control over my own thoughts and reactions.

As he moves his fingers in firm circles into the arch of my lower back I can feel them brushing lightly against the top of my ass, catching the fabric of the joggers, and I find myself hoping, wishing, his fingers would slip under that stretchy fabric and rub the globes of my ass. As if he's read my mind, on the next rotation I feel his thumbs slide under the band, working in hard mini-circles to plunge into the aching muscles they find.

Now no amount of restraint can stop the groan of pleasure that is pulled from my throat, and he pauses.

"You okay, Seb?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, it just feels really nice," I'm blushing harder now and desperately seek an excuse, "It's easy to forget that those muscles never normally get massaged, and they're really aching at the moment."

I'm trying to sound casual, not sure whether I'm hoping he'll stay chaste, or hoping he'll pick up my desire without forcing me to say the words. He coughs, clearly nervous.

"Uh, I could massage them properly if you want. Only if you're comfortable though?" This is it; his voice, so deep and melodious with that ever-present rumble of desire, unhinges my brain. In that moment I forget my need to not show him my roughness, my aching yearn for what he can give me. I'm going for broke.

"Please. But would you mind taking your jeans off, they're kind of rough rubbing against me."

I'm not breathing, waiting for his response, when he climbs off me. My eyes flick open to see him standing to the side, unbuttoning his dark blue jeans and pushing them off his hips. I lick my lips, still hiding my eyes under my lashes; his body is amazing, lean, with perfect muscle tone from his broad, swimmer's shoulders through his narrow, lithe hips, to his long, strong legs. He's wearing tight black boxers that cup an impressive looking cock, which I want to see, so much, but I suspect even I won't be able to play that request off as legitimately pseudo-innocent.

He climbs back up, straddling me a little lower, across my thighs, and gently lowers my waistband, gasping as he tucks it underneath my ass cheeks.

"God, I'm sorry, I forgot I never gave you any underwear, I was only going to-"

"It's okay."

I turn my head slightly to look at him and see he has his tongue pinched between his teeth as he looks intently at my ass. The look on his face sends a surge of warmth through my body, right to my cock, which only gets more intense when he lowers his hands and begins to rub. I'm panting into the crook of my arm at how amazing it feels -- not even sexual, as such -- the muscles become unknotted and relaxed under his expert fingers. I moan again, and I feel Ollie press down firmly, leaning into me until his mouth is close to my ear.

"Are you sure you're okay?" His voice is unmistakably filled with desire and I have to respond. I have to live in this moment. I raise my upper body and twist around to face him. He doesn't move back, still so close to me.

"Really, very sure."

And I know my voice is matching his in craving, want for more. He covers those last inches between us, placing a surprisingly gentle kiss on my mouth.

"Fuck it, Seb, you're amazing. This is the worst idea I've ever had, but I really want to see your face when you come. Can I?" God, those words. That sweet, desperate plea. I twist further to kiss him back and he holds my head, swiping his tongue inside my mouth, owning it but in the most tender way.

He lets go, climbs off me, and I turn to my back, so he can see the effect he's been having on me. His eyes light up when he sees that my cock is rock hard, and he crouches by my side, close, almost tentative in the way he stares for a moment before raising his hand and lightly encasing me in his fist. After a moment he squeezes harder, his face a picture of enraptured concentration.

"Fuck, it's like a steel rod wrapped in velvet." He dives forward not giving me time to respond to his statement, taking me into his burning hot mouth, covering the head and tickling at the tiny hole with the tip of his tongue, lapping up the pre-cum that has already formed.

"Mmmm, tastes so good." His groan is erotic, a verbal representation of the lust that was in his eyes, as he climbs back to the couch, never releasing me, until he's crouched between my legs and can slide further down my length.

"Oh, Ollie, that's...that's..." My words are taken as he slides all the way down, and I can feel the tip of my cock push into his narrow throat. I buck up, almost reflexively, and try to pull back so I don't choke him, but he grasps my ass, making me stay high, burrowed as deep inside him as I can be. I almost lose it as he swallows around my cock, massaging with muscles and tiny rhythmic twisting movements.

He goes to work, pulling back to take air and plunging forcefully back down until I'm panting, close to release. Then suddenly he slows down, before taking his mouth off me, giving one last lazy lick up the side.

"Please," I'm gasping, "don't stop."

"Just for a while," he murmurs, "but there's something I've been wanting to do."

He pushes my legs higher and I know he's looking at my hole, which I can feel twitching in arousal. I'm ashamed of how wanton I know I look, but the look in his eyes, half-closed in hazy desire, the way he bites his lower lip as his fingers part me a little, pulling the skin gently in opposite directions, quenches the shame.

"Fucking hell, you have a beautiful hole." God, just his words have me writhing, so when he leans forward, running his tongue over my pucker, I feel like I'm imploding. I call out his name and he pauses in his ministrations.

"Do that again."

"Huh?"

"Say my name when I'm bringing you pleasure. I think it might just be the sexiest thing I've ever heard. Well maybe a toss up between that and those noises you make."

My voice is thick with arousal as I repeat his name and I cry out when he dives back in, pushing his strong tongue inside me, passionately pushing and retreating faster than I could have thought possible, until I don't think I can take any more. He begins twisting his hand around my cock, and I know it isn't going to take long before I come.

"You'll miss the show if you're not careful," I warn him, shyly. He just murmurs into my ass, refusing to come up, increasing the pressure instead. I need to be more explicit. "You said you wanted to see me come, it's going to happen soon and you can't see it from down there."

He pulls away, and I whine in disappointment, even though I did that to myself.

"Next time," he growls. He dives back down on my cock now, swallowing it deep like he had been before. I suddenly feel something cold on my perineum, and realize he's drizzled a little moisturizer onto me, which he's now spreading around the muscle, gently pushing a finger inside me, twisting it round and adding a second. I know what he's looking for, and know that will be the end for me when he finds it.

I push my head back to bask in the amazing sensations emanating from my lower body while I still can. Just then he finds my gland with his probing fingers and I embarrassingly squeal a little with the overwhelming sensation of that combined with his hot, smooth throat. In that moment I don't care though, and I feel myself tightening, becoming ready for release. I warn Ollie but he doesn't move, and the feel of him swallowing my seed down as I push into his throat is one of the most erotic sensations I've ever had.

* * * * *

Ollie

I am overcome with desire for this amazing man, the feel of his hot throbbing cock inside my mouth has my own cock pulsing with need. When I've sucked down his essence and lapped my tongue over his smooth velvet head I move up his body and he twists himself to the side, willingly giving me his mouth as I swoop in roughly, mashing his lips with mine, parting them with a determined swipe of my tongue. I invade his mouth, feeling his heat and wanting to swallow it into my body.

He reaches behind my head, pulling me to him as he takes over the kiss, gently sucking my tongue before switching to my lips, applying mind-bending pressure, pulling into him, sending darts of bright light into my brain.

"I want you Seb." My words are redundant, I know everything about my actions, my body, is telling him that already, but I need it clear. He pushes me back and I have a sinking sense of rejection, but then he stands and takes my hand, drawing me up the stairs.

I guide him away from the guest room and into my own room, leading him in. I turn to face him and gasp at the animalistic look in his clear blue eyes. Before I can react he takes a step towards me, firmly grasping my upper arm and planting a hard kiss on me. I respond instantly, holding his head as I request admittance, panting into his mouth when he accepts me voraciously, our tongues swirling, battling for dominance and each joyfully losing.

A hiss is drawn from my throat as I stroke his soft cheekbone with my thumb, feeling the delicate smoothness of his skin, making him pull into me tighter, wrapping his arms around me. I can feel his hard body pressing against me, trembling in passion and I run my hand down his naked back, resting it softly against his pert ass. He's grinding against me, and I can feel his cock hardening against my stomach, my own shaft rising in response.

I gasp into his mouth, feeling as though he's drawing the air from my body with his passion, and I'm feeling dizzy with desire. Seb pulls away and looks deep into my eyes, his eyes glazed with lust as he lowers himself down my body until he's kneeling before me, still looking. He never breaks contact as he shifts my boxers down, watching my reactions. As my cock bounces free I see him lick his soft lips, a sight that has me moaning before he's even touched it.

He takes my base in his hand, drinking in the sight for a moment before raising his eyes back to me and leaning forward to run his flattened tongue up the length, focusing the tip on the ridges beneath the head, sending shivering sparks into my body before flicking it over my meatus. I can see the glisten of pre-cum on the edge of his tongue, the little globule stretching into a string, which he flips into his mouth with a lustful sigh.

"Damn Ollie, you taste too good."

I wrap my fingers in his mussed hair, watching my digits entwine with his golden locks. I'm holding but letting him guide the movement as his hot breath passes over my flesh and I shudder, feeling the ache of need before he's even really started. He bobs forward, taking my fat head between his moist lips, using them to massage while he sucks a mini-vacuum over my cock, his tongue athletically twisting and rotating over the sensitive glans. It's a cornucopia of sensation, all concentrated in that one area, and the sensual feeling makes me throw me head back and groan.

My uncontrolled reaction seems to give him additional impetus and I'm making incoherent noises as he slides his slick burning mouth down, still using his tongue as if he wants to send me insane with stimulation, until I feel myself reach the back of his mouth. I hear rather than see him suck in a breath before he continues pushing forward, and I'm watching his eyes, and myself disappear inside him, feeling his tight throat constrict around me. I'm breathing heavily, trying to keep my forearms relaxed, I know he's been treated badly and I feel an intense need to never add to his pain, I won't thrust into him no matter how much I want to, I won't be another taker in his life.

I can feel myself building as he takes my balls in his hand, rolling them through his fingers like I had to him earlier. It's too much and I can't hold back any more.

"Seb, I'm going to come." My voice doesn't sound like my own, it's a pure growl of lust. I let go of his head so he can pull back but he doesn't, instead wriggling close to me, showing me that his intention is to swallow me down. This is too erotic, and I feel myself begin to swell inside his hot soft mouth. His eyes close momentarily as he feels the first shot hit his throat and he swallows hard, adding extra sensation as he takes my load as fast as he can.

My knees are weak from the intensity as he pulls back, cleaning the last remnants of cum from my cock, with a hum of delight. God, he's so unbelievably desirable. I pull him up, covering his mouth with my own demanding kiss, tasting myself on him, salty and hot, as I own his mouth.

"Fuck, Seb, what are you doing to me? I feel drunk."

"Don't know. But maybe it's the same thing you're doing to me."

He kisses me again and guides me to my childhood bed, which is luckily a double. We climb in, both naked, and I pull the covers over us, spooning around his beautifully toned body, softly tickling the muscles of his chest and stomach. I want to do more, to bring him to delicious ecstasy again, to show him how much value he has, but I feel sleep overtaking me as I nuzzle into his warm neck.

* * * * *

Chapter eight

Seb

I wake naturally, rolling and twisting to stretch my pleasantly-aching muscles in the dark room. Then it hits me, where I am, and what I did last night. I look, Ollie isn't in the bed, and I feel a stomach-dropping sadness. I remember some of the things I said. And did. God, he probably thinks I'm some kind of needy slut, I cringe into the fetal position, blood rising in my face at the memory -- no wonder he's escaped as soon as he can.

Then I hear him coming up the stairs, and he walks into the room looking divine, wearing nothing but tight blue boxers. Even in my embarrassment, I can't help but lick my lips at how delicious he looks. He's carrying two coffee mugs and he puts one on the nightstand.

"Morning baby, how are you feeling?" My throat catches at the easy endearment. He pulls the thick curtains and bright morning light floods into the room. He didn't run off in the middle of the night, I just had my best nights sleep in...in a long time. I sit up and gratefully pick up the coffee, breathing in its richly bitter scent.

"Thanks. I feel good. How are you?"

"Amazing, thanks to you."

He leans in and gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek. I feel like dancing. Suddenly, I feel like things might be okay, I told him some of my biggest secrets and he seems to...want me. For me. There's a vaguely smug sensation at my core that my initial instincts, that led to that amazing thing in the shower, although they have been so often untrustworthy, seem to have been spot on. But then I remember that, oh no, they weren't my only pieces of baggage, of course they weren't. There's still chance for me to freak him out and scare him away, to get him to look at me with that leer of disgust.

My coffee is burning hot and I run to brush my teeth and have a quick shower, disappointed that he doesn't follow. But he's still in his room when I return, wearing ass-hugging jeans that have my cock waking up as he bends over the tall chest of drawers, pulling out joggers and a hooded sweatshirt for me. I quickly pull them on and sit on the bed to sip my now perfect-temperature coffee. I realize Ollie is staring at me, and I feel warm inside, until I see he has a look of desperate sorrow on his face.