He’d always been the one to call the shots with sexual partners, even though he mostly bottomed. This was something else altogether. This was insanity with no seatbelts. He hated Taron for disrupting his life, for keeping him locked up, and yet he couldn’t find a fault in the cock, which was still stiff inside of him. He itched to worship this glorious tool with his tongue and fall asleep with his head resting on one of those strong, hairy thighs.
When excitement was slowly replaced by fatigue, the physicality of the whole situation assaulted Colin’s senses. He lay in slop, dirtier than he’d been before the wash, his ass burned as if Taron’s dick had been covered with cayenne pepper, and when his captor finally pulled out, a streak of dampness followed his cock outside, rolling down the curve of Colin’s buttock and down his balls.
He could barely breathe.
What the fuck had he done?
Chapter Seven
What was done was done. Taron hadn’t intended to have sex with Colin, but if Colin was responsive, Taron wasn’t about to deny his interest.
Colin’s greedy hole still throbbed around Taron’s cock, but it was time to part. He murmured his pleasure as much as his partially paralyzed voice cords allowed, and gave himself a moment longer in the hot, lovely body. Last time he had an ass this good—he couldn’t remember having sex with a guy like Colin. Not just because Colin was built so well or handsome—even though he was—but also because he was so animalistic in the way he’d given in. He’d yielded as if his only purpose were to milk Taron’s cock.
Colin’s breathing came out ragged. Was he scared or still shaken up after the fuck? His shoulder blades moved closer, like two parts of a bridge coming together, and for the briefest moment Taron was tempted to walk his fingers across them. But such gestures of endearment did not belong in what this had been, so he just leaned closer one last time and breathed in the intense scent that hadn’t been washed away by water yet.
Taron enjoyed making his partners lose it, even when they were hookers. It made his own pleasure that much more satisfying. Colin had fulfilled that dream beautifully. Maybe he was meant to end up here? If Taron had managed to tame Brazos, why not Colin? It wasn’t as if the boy could ever leave.
He withdrew from the warm ass, already missing the heat of Colin’s hole, but it was time to get moving. He got up and smiled at the sight of reddened ass cheeks and the slim body resting bonelessly in the mud. Maybe if Colin liked showers so much, Taron could tile this bit of ground under the tree so that he didn’t get his feet muddy next time.
He rinsed himself, but then pulled Colin up by the ropes on his wrists to do the same for him. The entire front of the boy was covered in mud, and he was far more in need of a wash than Taron. Colin looked back as soon as he was on his feet, his face still colored by a beautiful flush. The quivering lips were plumper than usual, but Taron would rather if they stayed shut.
“H-hey. Untie me.”
Taron shook his head. It was far too soon for that. He hooked the rope over the branch and stroked Colin’s dirty hair. Yep, more washing was needed. That kind of reminded Taron of Brazos, too. The wretched creature had arrived at Taron’s with its ear torn off, and with fur matted from dirt, but he’d come around after realizing Taron would be good to him.
The weak smile on Colin’s lips became a stiff, fake grimace. “Come on… I’m not a poodle you’re getting ready for a competition.”
Taron backed off to quickly sign. He slapped his hand hard against his chest for extra emphasis.
Colin stiffened, like a rabbit that was too scared to bolt out of the way of a speeding car. But he wouldn’t just let the vehicle roll over him. He was still untamed and wouldn’t listen to his master. “No, I’m not. I’m my own person, so stop treating me like a cow you’re washing before slaughter!”
Taron gave a deep sigh and gently washed the mud off Colin’s handsome face. The bruise from last week was fading, and Taron hoped it would soon only be a memory. Once he was done with Colin’s front, he turned him around and aimed the water at the shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasted this much heated water, but it was worth it, even if Colin didn’t appreciate it just yet.
“I’m talking to you!” Colin tried to face him, but Taron kept him in place, intent to be firm. A cat would never learn submission—it was not in its nature—but a human could understand what was expected of them just like a dog.