Late

P.O.V. Gerard

I pull into our garage and get out of the car, pulling the paper bad our of the backseat before locking the doors. I’m a little late so Mikey might be upset but we needed bread and milk. I hope he’s not too angry. Upon walking in the kitchen door I see him standing there in his jeans and skintight anthrax shirt, looking none to pleased as he taps his fingers on the marble counter top. This is going to be good.

“You’re late.” He says through gritted teeth.

“I had to go to the store. I’m sorry.” I set the bag on the counter and he pushes into me so his front is snug along my back, his warm breath on my ear.

“You should’ve called.” He whispers, breathing in the scent of my hair. He knows I have never been with anyone but him, but he likes being so in control and watching me squirm beneath him.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“No…you won’t. I’m going to make sure. What happens to bad boys Gerard?”

“They get punished.”

“And what are you?”

“A bad boy.”

“Exactly. And my job is to?”

“Punish me.”

“That’s right.” He whispers before turning to drag me up the stairs. I love it when he punishes me. Fucking me roughly or putting me on my knees to fuck my face, forcing me onto him till I almost choke. But it’s best when he ties me up. He doesn’t like it when I comply or go ahead of him so I let him pull me along by the sleeve of my shirt. He throws me onto the bed and straddles my hips, drawing his hand back and slapping my cheek. He never makes it hurt too badly, but it stings my skin all the same. “What time are you supposed to be home?” He asks, his voice loud and demanding.

“Eight Thirty.” The end of my words are accented with a sharp slap to my face.

“What are you supposed to do if you’re running late?”

“Call you.” Slap.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I forgot.” Slap.

“Do you need to be reminded?”

“Yes.” Slap.

“Say it.”

“I need to be reminded.” He roughly removes my work shirt and turns me on my stomach, reaching for the leather ties on his nightstand. He ties one around my right wrist tightly and then to the bedpost, repeating the process on my other arm so they’re tied up above my head. He drags his fingernails down my back before getting off the bed and tearing my pants off my body. I can hear him taking off his clothes but cant turn my head to look and see what he’s doing. The bed shifts as he crawls back onto it and he grabs my hips forcefully, pulling me up on my knees. Without the slightest bit of warning he pushes into me hard. It hurts even though he used lube, but I’m used to it and besides, that’s the point; it’s supposed to hurt. He doesn’t like it when I wine or scream so I stifle the cries and clasp my fists around the loose ends of leather.

His fingers dig into my hips, as he starts moving inside me, gaining speed and harshness every time he drives into me. He slides his hands up and down my back, digging his fingers into my flesh and pressing harder and harder inside me, the heat still stinging my opening.

His hands tangle into my hair and grab a fistful of it before pulling hard and bending my neck, causing me to cry our in a mix of pain and pleasure. The friction inside me is so painful it feels good and I listen to him; loud moans mixing with my quieter submissive ones. I’m buzzing on pleasure vibes, my face being shoved into the bed from the force of his thrusts when he hits my prostate, shooting liquid fire through my veins and making my legs feel numb.

He keeps hitting my spot on every deep thrust, deriving little high pitched moans from my mouth, my cock now dripping with need. I pull at my restraints, trying desperately to free a hand and touch myself, wanting relief from the torture I’m going through, not being able to cum. He notices me struggling and makes his thrusts more fierce, hitting my prostate just that much harder and making me forget about getting untied.

His familiar fingers find their way around my dick and he starts pumping fast, making my blood boil and freeze at the same time. Just when I’m about to cum he stops, squeezing the head of my penis and stops my orgasm, making me suffer even longer. He starts moving his hand along my length again, smearing pre-cum all over the tip of it and taking time to run his fingernails along my slit.

The friction on my cock, combined with him continually hitting my spot is driving me insane, my entire body numb, plea for the feeling of my orgasm building up inside me. I squeeze my hands around the leather rope and lock my jaw on the pillow in front of me, trying to muffle my moans as I cum in his hand, spilling onto the sheets. Only seconds after, the electric feeling still surging through me, I fell him release inside me, pumping me full of warm cum and riding out his orgasm.

He pulls out and I let myself fall to the bed, feeling my blood warm again and start to flow through my breathless form. He falls beside me lazily untying one of my hands and allowing me to reach over to undo the other before turning into his warm embrace. He takes my hands in his own and lifts them to his lips, kissing away the red marks. Neither of us are breathing good at all, both of us panting and sucking in as much air as we can. I snuggle into him as he wraps his arms around me and our lips fall together in a tender kiss, contrasting so perfectly with our hard, fast sex.

“I love you Gerard.”

”I love you too.” I’ll never forget to call him again.