Rule Forty-Seven Page 3

  “So you accept my apology?”

  Craig nodded. “Yeah, brat, I do. And since I've given you my forgiveness, what more could you possibly want?”

  “You. Duh. If your mostly straight ass is interested, that is.” Logan put his mouth on Craig’s cock, making the fabric stretched taut even more damp. “I think it might be.”

  “This is a terrible idea,” Craig groaned.

  “Craig, terrible ideas are my specialty. Sometimes they even work out. Like now.”

  Craig laughed and seemed to relax slightly. “Rabbit, I think you’re one bad idea right after another.”

  “Rabbit? Really?”

  “Hush, boy. I'm talking. I need to know if this is really what you want. Is this what you were aiming for with all those stunts you pulled last week?”

  “Maybe,” Logan said, still nuzzling Craig’s erection with his nose and wondering where rabbit came from. He kind of liked it. He'd never had a pet name before. Not even from his mother or siblings.

  “Maybe I should spank your ass again.”

  Logan looked up to see Craig staring down at him, a bemused frown on his face. “Maybe you should, Sir. Maybe you need to teach me a lesson. But maybe we should deal with this cock of yours first. You know, so you can concentrate on punishing me just right.”

  Craig’s eyes flared wide. “God, Logan, I wanna fuck your mouth and choke you on my cock and…I don’t know what else. But, Jesus. I can't.”

  “Yeah,” Logan said, moving closer. He slid his hands up Craig's thighs and pulled at the waistband of Craig’s sleep pants. “You can.”

  6

  Craig Is Blown Away

  Craig stared down at Logan and felt a bit unreal, almost like he was a third party watching events unfold. Only the pain in his hand grounded him, and even that seemed distant as he watched Logan pull down his pants and free Craig's erection. It was like all those videos of Logan's that he'd felt compelled to watch, only playing out in real life. So wrong, but Craig couldn't look away—didn’t want to look away.

  Logan touched his tongue to Craig's wet slit and lapped up the moisture there. Each flick and stab reverberated through Craig's body. It wasn't just that he had a tongue on his cock after a very long dry spell, but it was Logan's tongue. None of it should be happening. Craig shouldn't allow it, shouldn't have spanked Logan, and should tell him to go to bed—alone—and then find alternate living arrangements for him in the morning.

  Instead, Craig flexed his hips and slid his cock into Logan's eager mouth. The boy hummed around his length happily as Craig thrust upward and the struggle was over in that instant. Craig's better judgment went AWOL, and the only thing he could focus on was wanting to come deep inside Logan's throat and then seeing him swallow down Craig's cum. What happened after that didn't matter. The only important thing was here and now and the utter heaven of Logan's hot, wet mouth.

  Strong fingers grasped Craig's ass while Logan used his lips and tongue and throat to fuck Craig's cock. It was the most enthusiastic blow job he'd ever received, bar none, and he already wanted to come every bit as much as he wanted it to last forever. Logan made needy, sexy sounds in his throat Craig thought he might never grow tired of, along with the obscene, wet sounds of suction and his own gasps of pleasure.

  Logan reached between Craig's legs and cupped his tight, drawn-up balls. He caressed them as his head bobbed, his butterscotch curls starting to win free from the product Logan had used earlier that evening to tame them.

  I'm being blown by my stepson, Craig thought, and that was the thought that did it. He came and came and came, and Logan took it all, swallowing with obvious relish then licking his swollen, pink lips like a satisfied cat.

  “Did you like that, Sir?”

  Craig groaned in response.

  “Was I a good boy?” The question was asked in a playful tone of voice, but there was a shadow of concern there. Logan was worried.

  “And if I say yes?”

  That was all the encouragement Logan needed. He pounced and clambered onto Craig's lap. The boy's cock was erect and straining against tight, damp denim. Logan rutted against Craig's stomach, then his lips descended and Logan was kissing him. It was utterly unlike any kiss Craig had received or given to any woman. While Logan's lips were soft, the rest of his body was hard. His face, though shaven, held the hint of stubble. He smelled like sex and other men and like Logan himself: cheap men's cologne and soap, a trace of sweat, and an underlying sweetness that made Craig want to sink his teeth into the boy and eat him like a candy bar. His mouth tasted of vodka and sugar and cum. None of it should have turned Craig on, and yet it did.

  God help him, it did.

  “Please, Sir. Please fuck me. Please. I need it. I need you. Just you,” the boy babbled between kisses. “Please. I'll be so good. I promise. Your good boy.”

  “I don't…” Craig didn't know what to do with that. Except his cock. His cock knew exactly what it wanted with Logan. “Logan…”

  He went still and stiff on Craig's lap, just like the frightened rabbit he reminded Craig of. "You don't really want me, do you? I…see. Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm so stupid. You didn't ask…didn't want…oh, God, I'm such an idiot," Logan started to pull away, but Craig grabbed his forearms and held him in place.

  “I'm not saying I don't want you,” Craig said softly, willing the boy to calm. “I want you. I don't understand it, but I do want you. But I don't…Logan, you know I'm straight.”

  Logan snorted and wouldn't look at him.

  “All right,” Craig conceded. “Possibly not straight, but completely inexperienced with men. I can't just fuck you. I don't have condoms, or lube, or a fucking clue.”

  Logan pulled back and gave Craig an odd look. “So you're not saying no because I have a dick. You're saying no because you're not sure what to do with my dick?”

  “I'm saying no, Logan, because having sex with another person isn't something anyone should do lightly.”

  The boy groaned and rested his head on Craig's shoulder. “I really fucking hate you right now,” he said.

  Craig couldn't help but smile at his forlorn tone. “I know. It's late. You should go to bed and try to get some sleep.”

  Into Craig's shoulder, Logan asked, “Will you tuck me into bed? Give me a goodnight kiss?”

  Logan lifted his head and looked into Craig's face. The boy looked both miserable and hopeful, and so very adorable, that Craig bent his head and brushed his lips against Logan's soft, sweet mouth. “Good night, rabbit,” he murmured. “Be a good boy for me.”

  Logan sighed, then slid inelegantly off Craig's lap. “Okay,” he said, “but I'm still not sure about that nickname.”

  Craig swatted Logan on the ass. “Tomorrow,” he said. “Go to bed.”

  7

  Logan Takes a Chance

  Logan felt slightly better after a shower. He knew what he'd done was stupid. Miles past the borders of Stupid and right into the country of Utter Idiocy. He'd been trying to provoke Craig for days on end with no result. Today, Logan had been so frustrated by Craig's lack of response that he'd snapped and announced he was going out. When he'd come out of his room dressed in jeans a size too tight and a loose cotton shirt that was fine enough to be transparent when wet with sweat, he'd expected something, but Craig hadn't said a word.

  Fine, Logan had thought, and went to a club. The first of several.

  Logan had let men touch him and stroke him and whisper filthy things in his ear, but all he could think of was Craig. Craig's reaction. Craig's disapproval. Craig's anger. Craig's punishment.

  Come on, rule forty-seven!

  And his defiance had finally worked, but only to a point. Logan had gotten to suck that gorgeous cock while his ass smarted and burned, but he was still alone, first in the shower, and now on his narrow bed.

  He didn't want to think it had all been a Pyrrhic victory. It would be devastating to find he'd won a battle only to lose the war.

  I don't have lube, or condoms, o
r a fucking clue.

  Logan turned over and stared at the ceiling. He had all three of those things. The question was whether he also had the courage needed to use them.

  8

  Craig Wakes Up

  Craig woke with bright sunlight shining onto his face through the window and a warm pressure on his feet. It was so like Molly that for almost a whole minute he forgot that the old retriever had died years ago, and he still hadn’t the heart to replace her with another dog.

  He looked down and saw Logan curled up at the foot of his bed, using Craig’s legs as a pillow. It was unexpected, to say the least. Craig nudged Logan with his shin. “Wake up, boy.”

  Logan blinked large, sleepy eyes at him and yawned. “What? What time is it?”

  “Almost eight. My alarm should’ve gone off at five like it does every day. Care to explain this mystery?”

  “Um, yeah.” Logan turned red and squirmed a bit. “I might have… um… turned it off. Just a little.”

  “Logan, you can’t turn an alarm off ‘a little.’” Already, Craig’s whole day felt out of whack.

  “Um, yeah, I can. ‘Cause I did. It’s Saturday, dude. We were up way late. We needed sleep because we need to talk.”

  Craig sat up in bed, the layers of blankets shielding his morning wood from view. Logan, under only a thin blanket, shivered in the chilly room. Craig should take pity on the boy and invite him under the warm covers, and he might, but not yet. “What would you like to discuss, Logan?”

  Logan also sat up and drew the blanket around his shoulders like a cloak. “What do you think? Last night.”

  “Last night was—”

  “If you say last night was a mistake,” Logan interrupted with a scowl, “I will bite you. Not in a fun way. The only mistake about last night was me going to bed alone.”

  “You didn’t stay there,” Craig grumbled.

  “Yeah, because I was done making mistakes. Try to keep up, Craig.”

  “So you propose we what, exactly?” Craig eyed Logan and tried not to stare at his pink, plump lips. “Brat.”

  Logan grinned at him, and it was like the sun beaming through his bedroom window. “We do what we've been doing. Early mornings, calisthenics, breakfast, sack lunch, work, dinner, chores. We watch TV or read or whatever. I am your very good boy. Unless I'm not. Then there's rule forty-seven.”

  Craig's cock jumped with a hard pulse of excitement. “What do you get out of this, rabbit?”

  “The things I need. A roof over my head. Food. Guidance. Accountability.” He let the blanket drop from his bare shoulders, then began to crawl up the bed toward Craig with the grace of a cat. “Pain, when I need it. Punishment when I deserve it.” He crawled into Craig's lap. “Your dick inside me. Your cum, leaking out and trickling down my leg. Your marks on my skin. Your bruises and bites and welts.”

  Craig's voice shook. “And…and what do I get?”

  Logan licked then bit Craig's nipple. “What do you want?”

  And that was the question, wasn't it? Craig had been in stasis for a long time. Every day was much like the one before, and that was how he liked things. He liked structure and order and consistency. Bringing Logan into his home was the only deviation in his planned existence Craig had had in years.

  His nature had been a bone of contention in every relationship he'd ever had. The women he'd fallen for had a tendency to chafe under his stricture to routine. Even before the porn had been found on his laptop, Craig knew his relationship with Logan's mother was in trouble. And had he loved her? In the beginning, yes. But toward the end, he thought not.

  It was why he'd been alone since then. It was why he'd thought he'd stay alone. Then Logan came, and things changed.

  “Maybe,” Craig said slowly, “it's not so much a question of what I want, but what I deserve.”

  Logan stilled and pulled back, sitting on his heels. “What do you think you deserve?”

  “Respect, rabbit.”

  “I do respect you!” Logan said hotly. “How isn't that fucking obvious?” He paused. “You are going to have to explain rabbit.”

  Craig smiled. “When you're nervous, you go still just like a rabbit. I can almost hear your heart beating its way out of your chest.”

  “Oh, my God. You think I'm a rabbit?”

  “You're small,” Craig pointed out. “Full of energy and no direction. All carelessness and paralyzed fear.”

  Logan wrinkled his nose, rather like a rabbit. Then he brightened. “You know what else rabbits like?”

  “Root vegetables?”

  The boy snickered. “Yeah, those, too. But I was thinking more of an activity.”

  Craig raised an eyebrow. “And what's that, rabbit?” He was both surprised and charmed by this aspect of Logan. This Logan was sweet and confident and flirtatious. Craig found that he liked it every bit as much as Logan’s timid, rabbit-like side. The latter made him feel rather like a wolf, wanting to chase his quarry down and then devour it. But Logan’s playful side made Craig want to roll on his back in the hopes he might get his belly rubbed.

  Logan leaned forward until his lips were a whisper from Craig's. “They like to fuck,” he whispered. “And they come prepared.” Then he closed the distance between them and kissed Craig with his sweet, heavenly lips.

  9

  Logan Says Too Much

  As far as Logan was concerned, this was one of those, “Come to the dark side, we have cookies,” kind of moments. Only instead of cookies, it was a tongue in your ass. Craig wasn't to that point yet, but he was wavering, and Logan intended on being the one to make him fall.

  He rode Craig's pajama-clad erection. “I’ll help you. I've never fucked a woman, hell, I've never fucked a man, but I am an expert at bottom prep. I should just get 'power bottom’ tattooed on my ass.”

  Craig's dark eyes went darker. “Show me.”

  Yes! Logan leaned over and found the lube. “This is very important to the process.”

  Craig shook his head. “I said show me, rabbit.”

  The name made Logan shudder with unexpected warmth and delight. He got on his hands and knees and presented his ass to Craig. It wasn't a great ass, especially to a man who'd only been with women, but it was strong and well-formed and hard, with enough flesh to grip. It hadn't hurt that Logan had been eating regular meals and exercising every day since coming to live with Craig.

  Logan squeezed lube onto his fingers and brought them between his legs. He liked playing with his ass, and doing it with an audience was even better. He patted and tapped and circled his hole, then began to slip his fingers inside.

  “Jesus,” Craig breathed. He had not, Logan was happy to note, run screaming from the room yet.

  “I've had a fist up here,” Logan remarked. “It took hours, but he finally did it, and it was amazing. It's not something everyone can do, or wants to do.” Logan thrust three fingers in and out of his body. There was a wet sucking sound that was somehow both shameful and thrilling.

  Logan loved it.

  “See how I'm opening up? That's because I want your cock in me. I want it raw. No condom. I want your cum in me and on me. Marking me.” Making me yours.

  “I won't fuck you without a condom.” Craig paused, then added, “Or a blood test. I need more rules for you.”

  Logan added his pinky to the fingers shallowly pumping his ass. “You see. That's why it has to be you.”

  Craig ran an experimental finger over the stretched ring of muscle that circled Logan's hole. “Rule fifty-one. We are exclusive. No other men. No women, either. This is not a rule you want to break, rabbit. No, don't stop. I never told you to stop.”

  Logan shivered. “O-okay. Rule fifty-one. No one else.”

  “Good boy. Hands off, now.”

  When Logan didn't remove his hand quite fast enough, a resounding smack rang out in the room and his ass cheek stung with lovely, warm pain. Logan cried out and Craig smacked him again.

  “You like this, don't you?” Whac
k. “You like being a bad boy and being shown the error of your ways.” Whack whack whack. “Then, when your ass is red,” whack, “you want me to fuck you.”

  “Yes!” Logan sobbed. He wanted it more than anything in his whole life.

  “And after I've fucked you, you want to sit next to me and read?”

  “Or watch tv,” Logan gasped, then cried out. His ass was on fire from repeated blows that were layered on top of the ones from last night, and he adored it. “We could find something on Netflix.”

  “You want me to own your future and your pain and your ass?” Whack.

  “Yes!” Jesus Christ, pretty fucking please.

  “Yes, what?” Craig growled.

  Dizzy with endorphins and lust, Logan said that absolute worst thing: “Yes, Daddy.” Then he thought, fuck.

  10

  Craig Rolls With It

  Yes, Daddy. Not the expected, Yes, Sir. Daddy. And Craig knew less about that than he did about gay sex.

  Except that's a lie, isn't it?

  All those videos. All those links. All those young-looking boys, and even some who looked like they might be able to drink a beer, crying out for their Daddy. This was it. Proof of what he'd known, deep down, all along.

  Logan had gone rabbit again, as if staying still might allow him to disappear.

  This was, Craig knew, his Rubicon. If he crossed it, nothing would ever be the same. But maybe it had already happened the night he found a thin and desperate boy holding two boxes too heavy for him on his front porch.

  Craig reached over, grabbed and unwrapped a condom, then slid it down his length. He laid a hand on Logan's bright red ass. “Say it again, rabbit.”