Drew, of course, halted at the door on the far side of the room. “The rest of this basement…” he said. “May I see it?”

  “Oh, well, it’s not finished.” Elliot tried to lead Drew away.

  “Elliot.”

  That firm voice stopped him in his tracks.

  “That’s not what I asked. Open this door, please.”

  Shoulders drooping, Elliot activated the keypad to open the door…to his playroom. Or would-be playroom, if he had a partner to play with. A line from a movie flashed across his mind—If you build, they will come. No, it had been blind hope that had propelled this move. He switched on the heating and the spotlights.

  “I see.” Drew turned in a slow circle, taking in the bench and equipment of a different nature to those upstairs. “It looks finished enough to me. Was that a lie?”

  “I… Yes.” Elliot stood with his gaze averted, until Drew’s hand raised his chin for him.

  “Your kink is rough sex in which your partner dominates you. There’s no shame in that.”

  “I’m not ashamed. Just…”

  “Not comfortable with it,” Drew finished for him.

  “No. Not exactly.” Elliot blew out a breath. The world saw him as the prim overdressed antiques trader he presented as, but that was only a part of who he was. “I like being told what to do in sex but that doesn’t make me weak or broken,” he got out in a rush, trying to explain.

  “And I like telling a guy what to do during sex, but that doesn’t make me a jerk. And I don’t want anyone weak or damaged. Well, only the ‘damage’ I inflict.” Drew gave a slow lick of his lips, and Elliot followed the motion, his dick hardening. “I understand, Elliot. It’s like two sides to a coin. You’re self-contained, with everything meticulously planned. It’s how you control your life. But you also need relief. Release. What happened between us the other day proved that.”

  He understands me. This was becoming more and more evident the more they interacted. Of course Drew would understand these facets to a person. Elliot wondered if Drew being a Dom had to do with his life, his job—he needed to have control and he must compartmentalize a great deal. Before Elliot could ponder on it any further, Drew was speaking again.

  “If you haven’t had visitors to the house, does that mean no one else has been in here?”

  Elliot nodded. He didn’t trust easily and there was no one he knew well enough, or he felt knew him well enough to bring here. There was Karl, of course, but this wouldn’t come under the services he provided.

  “Then I’m the lucky one—” Drew began, although Elliot felt he was, to have had that night with Drew. The thought that there would be more of what they’d shared had his pulse racing.

  “—who gets to break it in,” Drew said, and Elliot, almost light-headed, heard it as break you in. Drew had indeed done that. Where Elliot had watched scenes at Caress and wanted to submit to a Dom, he hadn’t been able to make himself…but Drew had made him, made Elliot submit to him and to whatever Drew had chosen to do to him. And Elliot had fucking loved it.

  “Still the same?”

  Elliot pulled himself from his reverie and breathed through the haze of arousal to attend to what Drew must have inquired of him.

  “I said, are they still the same? I asked you a question.” Drew was still holding Elliot’s face.

  “What? I was dreaming, sorry.”

  Those fingers now tightened. “Pay more attention. Are your safewords and signals the same?”

  “Yes.”

  “I mentioned fucking your face before, and you looked like a kid at a party.” Drew’s tone was conversational, as if this were nothing out of the ordinary. “Condoms for oral or not? I got tested recently and I’m clean. I’ve got the results on my phone somewhere if you’d like to see.”

  “I… No. Bare.” Even the word sent a thrum along Elliot’s nerve endings. Raw. God, the mere thought had him leaking pre-cum.

  “And you take a load? To the face? Swallow?”

  Jesus. All Elliot could do was nod, his eyes widened so much that his forehead hurt.

  “Good.” Drew dropped his hand from Elliot’s face and prowled the basement room. “It’s well-stocked,” he commented.

  Elliot kept quiet, limiting himself to nodding. Drew was sharpening, gathering himself together…for their scene, and Elliot was almost hyperventilating.

  “So go get a mat.” Drew waited for Elliot to obey him. “Now, on your knees. Get me ready.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Elliot dropped to his knees and couldn’t help but flinch when Drew unbuckled his belt. He tracked the movement with his gaze. No. His belt? Would Drew— And did Elliot want him too? His dick was certainly intrigued by the thought, straining against his pants. This, him on his knees, spot lit in his newly fitted-out dungeon in front of a Dom, felt so…right, was the adjective his brain settled on.

  This looked like becoming a more elaborate scene than the one they’d had in Drew’s hotel room, but that, Drew pounding his ass, had been perfect in its own way too. Drew unzipped his jeans, and Elliot almost exclaimed to see he wasn’t wearing underwear, then couldn’t bite back his gasp at how hard Drew’s cock was when Drew took it out.

  Drew had no problem understanding Elliot’s non-verbal communication. “How could I not be hard, with your eager mouth an inch away?” he remarked. “Hands behind your back. I want just your mouth.”

  Elliot complied, his gaze drinking in the sight of Drew’s erect cock, long and fat with a vein he wanted to lick running up the side, almost to the thick flare of its head. He inhaled, filling his nostrils with the salty, musky scent that had his head swimming. Drew held the base in one hand.

  “Jesus, you’re licking your lips!” he exclaimed.

  Elliot didn’t know if Drew meant that as a metaphor or he’d actually swiped his tongue over them. He opened his mouth to ask, and Drew chose that moment to ease the tip of his cock between Elliot’s lips.

  “Lick this instead,” he ordered.

  Elliot did, learning its taste and texture, that he could circle it with the flat of his tongue and that if he wriggled his tongue tip into the slit, he could scoop out pre-cum to sip and swallow. Every so often, Drew pulled out to either swipe his cock along Elliot’s lips or smack his cheek with it. Both actions felt so dirty and so good and not enough…but he got no warning before Drew pushed in, this time right to the back of his throat, and that was too much. Elliot’s throat spasmed.

  “Can’t take much, can you?” Drew remarked. “Try harder.”

  Elliot did his best, opening wide and taking Drew in as deep as he could go. He choked, and his eyes watered, the tears slipping down his burning cheeks.

  “I’m going easy on you,” came Drew’s voice above him, as he fucked Elliot’s throat with long, slow pushes and pulls. “Mainly because I like the noises you make.”

  He likes the gagging sounds I’m half-ashamed of? Oh.

  “But you can’t take it all, can you? Look at me.” Drew made his order easier to obey by spearing his fingers into Elliot’s hair and pulling him free of his shaft.

  Drew shook his head, a couple of tears that had leaked from his eyes flicking off and onto the matt under his knees.

  “Then we have work to do. Training to do,” Drew said, a smirk twisting his face. He rammed his dick in before Elliot was expecting it, making him choke. “Yeah, those noises.” He slid the hand he’d tightened in Elliot’s hair lower, to hold the back of his head, keeping him where he wanted him, and that added restraint had Elliot almost coming where he knelt.

  He adjusted, breathing through his nose so he didn’t feel as though a lack of oxygen would make him pass out, although it wasn’t that which was making him feel heady.

  “You’re doing well,” Drew commented, and the praise rained down on Elliot like a gift from the gods. “And I’m getting the feel of you now.”

  Which meant he increased his pace…and the force of his thrusts. It pulled lewd, wet slurping noises from Elliot’s mouth, and Drew chuckled. “I like those noises too. Jesus, but I love going hard. Really hammering a sub’s throat, seeing what they can take…and making them take… That. Bit. More.”

  His words sent a charge up Elliot’s spine. Sweat dewed his body, especially his hands, making it impossible for him to keep them clasped together behind his back. His arms sprang to the sides then the front, and he gripped the back of Drew’s legs to keep in position.

  Oh, this was much better. Before he knew what he was planning to do, he slid his hands under the denim of Drew’s jeans so he could wrap his hands around Drew’s skin. He only knew he must have dug the nails of one hand in when Drew hissed in reaction. It wasn’t the ideal position for Elliot—his balance and stability were off, and he felt unsteady…probably the way Drew liked him.

  Maybe in retaliation for Elliot’s unauthorized foray, Drew picked up speed, shoving his cock deep over and over again until Elliot cried out around the flesh filling his mouth and throat.

  “Need to take a breath?” Drew asked, sounding mildly amused, and Elliot gave the tiniest shake of his head, determined to take it all, all that Drew could give him. He was too focused on timing his breathing with Drew’s out-strokes to be embarrassed about the saliva dripping in a dirty string from his mouth and down his face.

  “Look at me,” Drew suddenly demanded, and if that was hard, staring into Drew’s eyes as he fucked Elliot’s mouth, dealing with his question when he asked, “You ready to swallow my load?” was even tougher. Drew must have known that, understood how the picture he was painting sent fear and anticipation and desire coursing through Elliot.

  It was like winning the lottery when Drew halted. He held himself deep in Elliot’s mouth, and his iron hand around Elliot’s head kept his face buried in Drew’s crotch, his nose in his pubic hair.

  “I’m the one who needs a breather, or this is gonna be over too soon,” Drew panted. He used his other hand to pull Elliot’s hair. “You’re a quick learner and look so fucking hot on your knees with my dick down your throat that I want to show you off. I think I will, take you to a club and show everyone what a fantastic cocksucker you are.”

  Elliot froze, his breath sawing from his lungs in terrified gulps. The tears trickling from his eyes were now ones of panic. Drew relaxed his grip on Elliot’s head and pulled his face back, leaving the tip of his cock throbbing on Elliot’s tongue as he looked at him. He was bluffing, wasn’t he? He wouldn’t make Elliot perform in public, in either the main room or one of the small side rooms at Caress, let people see him sucking Drew off? Would he?

  “You might wanna take your last deep breath,” Drew warned, giving him a second before he pushed Elliot’s head down again. “Because I’m gonna come in your mouth, and you’re gonna swallow me down. Word of advice—try to control your gag reflex now.”

  Elliot’s fingers, still clutching on to the lifeline of Drew’s legs, tightened. He didn’t quite know what to expect and there was no time to imagine, because Drew clamped his hands around Elliot’s head to hold him in place for Drew to thrust deep and jerk Elliot back and forth, quick and short, on his dick. His agonized shout warned Elliot a second before Drew gave one last deep roll of his hips and jetted into his mouth.

  He was going to choke. To drown. On Drew’s thick, warm, salty-sweet cum shooting down his throat. Thankfully, Drew pulled out a little, holding the base of his cock, so the next pulse pooled on Elliot’s tongue, and he was able to suck, as hard as he could—hard enough to make Drew groan.

  He didn’t understand when Drew slid his still-throbbing shaft free of Elliot’s mouth, making his lips close on nothing as he chased it, not wanting to lose it.

  “Yeah, there’s more,” Drew gritted out. “And I want to see you dripping with it. With me.” He slid his hand up his still-swollen, still-red dick, and moaned as he worked it hard and fast, to pull the rest of his climax from it—and shoot his load right into Elliot’s face. If the splat noise it made hitting him was obscene, the heavy, wet warmth sliding down his skin was even more so. Although he’d had Drew’s cock down his throat, had sucked the cum from it, he had to stick out his tongue and taste these pulses of it too.

  Elliot had never seen anything like Drew’s face above him as he milked out the last spasms. Which made him wonder—what did he look like, heaving as if he’d run a race, his face as red as fire, his hair one sweat-soaked mass, his lips parted, Drew’s release dripping from his chin?

  “Fucking gorgeous,” Drew rasped out, making Elliot fret that he’d voiced his question out loud. “Covered in me—fucking gorgeous.”

  Elliot could have come right from those words alone. Now that he didn’t have to concentrate on breathing without choking, his urgent need to release wracked him. He was actually shaking with the intensity of it, wanting to rock back and forth with the pain.

  Drew understood. Of course he did—he’d created this, fed it, made it blaze out of control. “Get yourself off,” he ordered, groping out a hand and dragging over a stool. The noise its legs made, scraping over the floor, hit Elliot hard in his heightened state. But the stool wasn’t for him—it was for Drew to collapse onto, his breathing slowing…to watch him masturbate.

  “Won’t ask you to put on a show for me,” Drew said, his smile ragged.

  Good. With the need pooling in his dick and balls, one touch and Elliot would shoot off like a rocket. He yanked his zip down and seized his cock, working himself from root to tip, his hand a furious blur on his flesh.

  Drew had one more order. “Eyes on me, Elliot. The whole time. This is for me. Or I’ll have you stop—let you get to the edge then tie your hands behind your back and leave you wanting.”

  His words, their meaning, their weight—their sheer dark promise—hit Elliot like a lash, shooting fire down every nerve ending in his body. Staring into Drew’s eyes, seeing their blue shine with renewing heat, he came, cum surging through his punishingly tight fist to spurt from his cockhead between him and Drew…and land on Drew’s pants.

  Elliot couldn’t spare a thought for that, not when he was yelling his agony and ecstasy to the farthest corners of the long, low room, making it echo with his anguish and triumph. Drew’s words of praise and admiration, words Elliot could barely hear through the ringing in his ears or catch through the thick white haze clouding his mind, fell on him like a balm over the strokes of his previous command.

  When he came to enough to understand where he was and with who, he was in Drew’s lap, Drew sitting with his back to a black wood chest, dabbing his face with a soft cloth. A fleecy blanket covered Elliot. Elliot stirred and pulled away a little, to stare up at Drew. “Was that…subspace?” he whispered, not trusting his voice to work as it should.

  “No.” Drew tucked the blanket around him. “There was a lot of adrenaline and endorphins sloshing around, but it was just a very intense climax, rather than subspace. You mean you’ve never—?”

  Elliot’s tight head-shake meant that Drew didn’t need to finish asking his question.

  “You will. I’ll make it my mission,” Drew promised, and despite the blanket, Elliot shivered. “Do you keep water or drinks in here?”

  “In the other part of the chest from where you got the blanket and cloth,” Elliot muttered, feeling cold when Drew set him down and stood. Drew was back almost at once, shaking his head at the sports drink but nevertheless opening it and holding it to Elliot’s lips for him, telling him to sip slowly. He unwrapped a protein bar for him and broke pieces off for Elliot to nibble.

  “What about you?” Elliot asked him.

  “What about me?” Drew leaned back, checking Elliot over.

  “You’re…” Elliot gestured rather than say filthy with my spent cum. “Welcome to have a shower and stay the night.”

  “I am?” Drew sounded amused.

  “I mean, I’d like you to stay the night. With me.” Elliot said that to the floor.

  Drew didn’t challenge him on it, just replied, “I’d like that too.”

  Now Elliot raised his head to look at Drew, the man who’d given him the sort of sex his soul had craved because it answered a need in him too.

  A handsome man, whose looks Elliot liked, and a man whose concern and care were as evident as his wit and humor.

  A man who might be the perfect one for him…and who was leaving the country as soon as he’d wrapped up the case he was here to solve.

  Trust Elliot to finally work out what he wanted…too late.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Drew woke suddenly, not sure where he was. Not his apartment, and not Ash’s room in the house he shared with friends from work. No, they’d broken up, he remembered, with a mental shrug.

  Not the hotel room, with its recycled air and a room freshener smell he never would have chosen. A small snore coming from the pillow next to him had him twisting his head so quickly he almost cricked his neck. Elliot. He was here in the man’s thankfully neither cute nor cloying bedroom of his something-Victorian house. The man who was smiling in his sleep. Drew bet he had been, too.

  A thought struck Drew—he hadn’t grabbed his phone as soon as he’d pried his eyes open. Okay, his work circumstances here weren’t the same as they were in London, but it wasn’t like him. I’m not here on holiday, for fuck’s sake, he railed at himself. I’ve got a fucking international art thief to bring down! Kislyak was more than that, of course, and the sooner Drew proved that the bastard’s corrupt and sick empire was partly funded by the priceless art the crook stole, the better for all concerned. Well, except Kislyak.

  He eased out of bed, careful not to wake Elliot and, naked, used the bathroom then walked downstairs to find the clothes he’d thrown into the washer-dryer before succumbing to sleep last night. They’d do without being ironed. He took out Elliot’s for him, too—both sets had been washed together. Drew’s had been just as cum-splattered after that amazing scene.