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Sel’s leg was in the way, so he tried to move to see what Indio was grabbing, but when Indio noticed him moving, he told Sel to stop. So, Sel stopped.
He stared up at the mirror, seeing his reflection there, spread like some slut, hole right there, ready to be used as soon as that black plug was out of him.
When he saw what Indio had grabbed, Sel’s eyes got huge. “A cane? A damn cane?”
“I could use the flogger, but in that position, your pretty dick is right there, in a very bad spot, and one little whip gets loose, and…”
“Okay, okay! The cane! Damn, you got mean fast!”
“Don’t make me gag you.”
Sel bit his lips shut and then Indio laughed. “Okay, one more word. What’s your safeword, Sel?”
“Banana.”
“And what’s your go word?”
“Orange.”
“Good boy.”
The caning hurt like fire. From the first rather soft strike, all the way up to the hardest, Sel wailed like he was being killed. It hurt, and the pain spread like a wildfire across his legs, ass, making his entire body heated.
He closed his eyes, and the images there were not what he expected. What he saw was that Montana sky, those wispy clouds he’d seen earlier that evening, how they slowly moved across that gorgeous blue.
The fire that turned warm, then cool, and finally cold as he was dipped into the drifts of snow that had been all around the ranch, causing them to park the bike in the garage for months while they cruised the roads of the ranch in Sel’s SUV.
How they’d laughed, listening to old rock songs, the bumpy roads causing him to reach over and grab onto Indio. It was freezing, but the cold never bothered him, because Indio had been there to keep him warm.
Yes, he’d known for a very long time that Indio loved him. It was impossible not to see it in those expressive eyes. The cane was nothing compared to that, and he turned the pain of it into something more, something deeper.
Each strike of that cane was a beacon, showing him the way home. It wasn’t the house that had been built for them, or even the ranch itself. It was Indio. Indio was home.
When he came back to the room, he heard a chanting. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” and it took him a moment or two to realize it was him chanting.
Indio had stopped caning him and was getting into position to fuck him, like he’d asked, but Indio saw his eyes focusing, asking, “Are you okay?”
“I’m…fucking great.”
“Still want to fuck?”
Sel nodded as he said, “Yeah. Yeah, I wanna fuck.”
The plug was removed, and Indio replaced it quickly, pushing all the way inside him to the hilt. Sel let out a weak wail, then croaked, “Don’t hold back. Take me back there.”
“Where?”
Sel just laughed and asked again, “Fuck me, please?”
Indio started in and fucked him with hard, driving thrusts. His eyes tried to capture Sel’s and hold him there, in the moment, and Sel was there, but it was as if he’d split. Sel’s mind returned to all those moments together, over the months, how they’d grown closer, falling in love.
Like little flashes or movie clips, he watched their life together, even as he looked into the love Indio had in his eyes on that bed, in that private room.
Their friends, their home, sitting outside on warm days, watching the sun setting, the light show in the sky. The times when they sat in the kitchen, trying new things that Binx brought them to try as he filled his café menu.
Playing with the dogs together at Sel’s uncle's place. All of it, all the little moments that made them a couple.
Indio fucked him so hard, the bed banged on the wall, and Sel was brought back fully to that room, and the banging was so loud, he felt like the entire club would hear them.
