Page 40 of Just Business

“No, not really.”

Eli tightened a hand in the hair beneath his fingers and Justin’s change from smiling to panting lit a fire in Eli’s veins. “Well, you should be, don’t you think?” Eli let go.

Justin slid from the couch to the floor and knelt between Eli’s knees, his lips wet, his blue eyes wide. “Eli, will you please flog me until I’ve screamed myself hoarse? Please fuck me until I beg you to let me come. I want your whip on my back and your cock inside me.”

Oh hell yes.Eli reached for his gloves and walking stick. “If you insist, Justin.”

Chapter Seven

Justin’s lungs ached and his blood was on fire. When had Eli morphed from cold to so hot all Justin wanted was to be touched by him? Fucked by him? Sometime between when he’d handed Sam his résumé and when he’d met Eli the morning of his interview. Crawling around in Eli’s office might have cemented his lust, but that hadn’t started it.

Here he was, being led by Eli to a room to be stripped, tied up, whipped, and fucked.

Finally.

He hadn’t been flogged in ages and if he didn’t feel Eli inside him soon, his brain might melt. Even better with people watching. When they’d lain on that couch, he’d caught a few of the looks—the stares, the whispers. As they moved down the hall, there were more. Evidently Eli was popular, but hard to get.

I don’t do this.Not at parties. And not very often at all.

But for Justin, he had. He would. And fuck it all, if that alone didn’t make Justin fly.

Down a set of stairs and another hallway and into a sizable room and...Holy shit.He’d never seen a dungeon like this. Rack. Cross. Horse. A net. Bars. Too much to take in. Eli cupped Justin’s ass and guided him farther into the room. “Cold feet?” he murmured in Justin’s ear.

“Fuck no. I just don’t know where to beg you to start.”

Eli’s teeth scraped Justin’s earlobe. “Not something you need to worry about.” He stepped into the center of the room and gestured for Justin to join him. Gloved fingers swept over temple and cheeks. Low words, meant for him alone. “Do you trust me, Justin?” Eli gripped his collar.

“Yes.” He did. Right now he did.

Eli pulled him into a deep kiss that burned its way down to his toes, then spoke louder this time. “I want you to turn and see all the people who have come to watch us play.”

So many pinpricks danced down his limbs it was a wonder he stood. Justin did as told, meeting all those smiles, frowns, and stares. The jealousy, the desire. He found Michael standing nearby, Sam at his feet. Somewhere along the line, Sam had lost his shirt and the nipple clamps and gained welts on his shoulders, but he was relaxed—and highly amused.

At least the boss approved. Michael was focused on Eli, his pride clear as day.

There was a story he wanted out of Eli. He shivered, a flicker of images playing through his head. He turned, taking in the rest of the room before meeting Eli’s gaze.

“Did you see how many ached to be you?” Eli spoke low as he stroked the pit of Justin’s throat.

“Yeah. Also saw how many wanted to be you.”

“Shall we make them all envious?”

Yes. But that wasn’t the reason Justin stood with Eli’s hand on his hips. “Whatever pleases you will please me, Eli.”

Warm breath on his neck. “You are going to flysohigh tonight.”

No doubt of that. Hell, he was already halfway there. “Then let’s make them all wish they were us.”

Eli stepped back. “Lyle, if you’d be so kind.” He held out his cane and Lyle took it.

“Shoes and socks off, Justin.”

He obeyed, sliding them off to the side with his foot. Sam reached out to pull them completely out of the way.

“Toenails, too?”

He’d painted them black, like his fingernails. “I like when things match.”