SE Jakes Bound By Honor Read Free Page A

no idea what he wanted anyway.
    “I asked a question,” Damon said patiently, but Tanner knew that patience would be short-lived.
    The thought of Damon’s body covering his, holding him down, riding him, was too much to bear.
    This contact, even, was too much, considering he’d been home from his last tour for less than two days.
    He was nowhere close to being ready.
    But he’d waited too long to say no and Damon was done asking questions. He pushed Tanner off and commanded,
    “Strip, boy.”
    The words were harsh a nd somehow seductive a t the same time. Tanner ha d n o problem being naked i n front of
    anyone…but doing this in front of a bar…Jesus fucking Christ.
    He unbuttoned his shirt and yanked his jeans down. He rarely wore underwear when he wasn’t working, and tonight
    had been no exception.
    H e heard the yel s o f approval, because yeah, h e wa s hung like a motherfucker. H e even sa w the appreciation in
    Damon’s eyes before they hardened again.
    “Eyes down. Don’t you dare look at me, boy.”
    Tanner did as he asked, cast his eyes down to Damon’s black-leather-booted feet and felt his body flush.
    “Walk to me. Eyes down.”
    Tanner fol owed the sound o f his voice, let Damon’s hands guide hi m farther a nd then down o n hi s knees near the
    spanking bench. Damon knelt behind him, straddled Tanner’s calves s o that they were ass t o cock again. F o r a few
    moments, Damon’s breath lingered on his cheek as the man’s hand roamed his chest.
    Pinched a nipple. Moved down to hold his cock, a thumb swirling the precome over the broad hood, and Tanner
    hissed and nearly shot his load right then and there.
    Involuntarily, he pressed his ass back into Damon—the ma n wa s rock hard a nd Tanner heard a soft groan escape
    Damon when he ground his ass harder. He liked that he had some effect on the man who was threatening to undo him
    and so he did it again, until Damon rocked against him, the leather of his pants strangely erotic against Tanner’s bare
    ass. The slow grind built faster, Damon tugged his cock harder and the crowd seemed to love every minute of the show.
    It was al a show and stil a moan drummed up in the back of his throat and escaped before he could stop it.
    From Damon, there was only a soft chuckle that wasn’t a s friendly a s i t should’ve been. A strong hand o n hi s back
    pushed him forward, breaking their contact and guiding Tanner into place before four locks bore down—one on each
    wrist and ankle, holding him effectively in place.
    “It doesn’t matter if you struggle, boy,” Damon told him. “This is bolted into the floor.”
    Tanner heard his own breathing harshen.
    His legs were spread, and the apparatus he was chained to rotated in order to give his audience an angle of every
    single part of him. His ass was in the air, his dick jutting upward as his chest rested on the bench, and he began to sweat,
    a thin sheen that covered his body.
    He pressed his forehead to the leather and tried to breathe. Felt Damon finger the cold lube against his asshole and
    he drew in a sharp breath, because there had been no warning. He wil ed himself to relax, waited for a finger to slide in,
    to open him.
    But that didn’t happen. No, Damon used a dildo—it wasn’t large but it was knobbed—and worked it inside of him
    slowly as Tanner tried not to cry out. It hurt the way he’d known it would—he’d heard it was part of the draw for the bottom
    —the pinch o f pain before the pleasure hit. But Tanner didn’t like being this out o f control, this vulnerable, a nd h e
    wouldn’t handle it wel .
    “You’re tight, baby. You don’t bottom much, do you?” Damon asked, but the question was rhetorical and Tanner noted
    that he went a little more slowly, used more lube. Tanner forced himself not to struggle against it—the sensation of being
    fil ed strangely erotic, but it fucking hurt.
    Damon hadn’t given him any kind of way to stop him, and although Tanner supposed