Free 3-Ties That Bind by SE Jakes

you. You have to accept yourself,” Derek said.
    “Put it on a greeting card,” Glen muttered, and that was exactly what Derek wanted to hear.
    “I gave you the rope and you just hung yourself,” he growled and then he moved to action.
     
    Glen immediately regretted his words, saw the look in Derek’s eyes and knew he was in for it. Before he could back away, Derek had him in a hold, had him cuffed and helpless before he could utter any kind of apology. But the hold made him angrier and he fought, told Derek to get the fuck off him.
    “Not a chance, little boy,” Derek told him. And then the man had him over his knee—he had the element of surprise on his side, plus he made use of the fact that Glen wasn’t exactly steady on his feet yet.
    “No—not like this.” Glen struggled, but his sweats pulled down easily and Derek’s hand met his ass with a hard slap.
    “I’m not doing this to punish you for what happened. I’m doing this to stop you from doubting yourself, your choices. None of this is wrong. I’m not letting you up until you realize it.”
    Glen howled, part anger, part regret, and he fought too. Might’ve won with a lesser Dom or if his wrists weren’t tied, but luck wasn’t on his side.
    Derek’s bare hand met bare bottom again and again with a thwack that reverberated through his soul, and no, it wasn’t the way it had been with John, but it wasn’t the way it had been with Mark either. It was better than it had ever been. Derek was good at this. Better than good, he realized when the measured slaps had him sinking into that place where pleasure mingled with pain, melding into one until he couldn’t see straight.
    Until he didn’t care about anything else but the pleasure.
    He wasn’t sure when it stopped or when the orgasm shot through him, because that hadn’t been his goal. All the pain, anger, grief poured out of him until there was nothing left but pure, unadulterated pleasure.
    And while he was still in the throes of his orgasm, Derek was picking him up, putting him over the back of the couch, bent him forward so he couldn’t move. And still, Derek kept a hand on the back of his neck, tight.
    Derek thrust hard, over and over without stopping, giving Glen no time to recover from the constant intense pleasure of his cock jutting against Glen’s prostate.
    This sex was dirty. Hot. Hard and fast and slow and depraved. Glen begged for everything he got wantonly. Watched Derek love giving it to him, heard Derek say, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting it like this. Never was.”
    Glen was aware that he was yelling—probably nonsense in between groans, and then it was like he blacked out as his cock pumped out come like he’d been celibate for years.
    He was aware of Derek helping him up. Murmuring, his breath soothing against Glen’s too-warm skin. Everything ached, including his head, but Derek wasn’t going to push away that easily. Held him, stroked him, until he remembered how good what was supposed to be so bad felt.
    When he was finally completely pliant in his arms, Derek took him into the bedroom.
    “That’s it…come on, give yourself over to me again,” Derek encouraged as he positioned them in front of the mirror on the outside of the closed closet door, with Glen standing in front of him. Glen let his head fall back, watched them in the mirror as Derek’s hand slid up and down his cock, taking him the way Glen wanted.
    Derek’s cock rubbed against him, but he didn’t fuck him again, simply jerked Glen off as Glen gasped and jolted.
    “Hold yourself still,” Derek demanded. Glen did, but it wasn’t enough. Not until Derek pushed him to the wall, and Glen held his palms out on opposite sides of the mirror to brace himself. Let Derek pull another orgasm from him, this one making him relax totally. And then Derek had him again, held him up, wrapped him tight. Cleaned them both in the shower as the dazed sleep settled in.
    When he woke sometime the next