Rating: NC-17
Content: M/M sexual content, language, B&D/S&M
Distribution: Go ahead, but let me know where.
Disclaimer: I'd love to own these two...even for just one night, but I don't, so don't sue me!
Summary: Cyrus gets his comeuppence from RVD.
May 28, 2000
May 28, 2000
"...And there's no way that you, Rob Van Dam, will ever get your dirty hands on the TV belt. Not as long as I'm part of this network."
The crowd booed and chanted 'asshole' as Cyrus delivered his speech. He frowned slightly, glaring at the audience, then waved his companion, Scotty Anton forward, Lifting the mike to speak again.
"How does it feel to have your best friend turn on you like the pathetic dog you are, Rob? He realized that he wasn't going to go anywhere if he hung out with a loser like you, so he aligned himself with winners! Scotty's going to go far as a member of my network team, and his first challenge is to take care of you, once and for all!"
Cyrus handed Scotty the mike, gesturing for him to speak his mind.
"Rob, we were the best of friends once. You promised that you'd help me out in the business, get me some title shots, get me over big. But ever since I've been here, I've done nothing but be your lackey, carrying you to the ring like some chump, hovering in the background like-"
Cyrus took back the mike. "That's good enough, Scotty. No need to upset yourself. Rob, being as how I carry the power in the network, I'm going to make a match right now. Rob Van Dam versus your former best friend, Scotty Anton and if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me...kick my ass, shave my head-whatever you want, man. And if you win...well, I'll give you a TV title shot with Rhino." The crowd bellowed in approval, chanting 'RVD', nearly drowning out Cyrus's next words. "But I can guarantee you that that is not going to happen. I have a plan. Great minds always have a plan." He dropped the mike and he exited the ring with Scotty amidst a chorus of jeers and boos. He ignored them, making his way to the back. He gave Scotty a few instructions before heading for his dressing room where he'd left his cell phone. After making a call to his boss, assuring him that he'd take care of Rob with no trouble, he began pacing the room, raking his fingers through his dark hair, thinking deeply on how to accomplish his goal. There was just no way he could let Van Dam get his hands on him. He was one man that had no mercy in his soul for him and he would surely end up dead somewhere with his neck snapped or some other horribly painful demise.
He glanced at his watch, surprised to see that 20 minutes had passed and he hurried to his bag. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and changed into his ring attire: white silk shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his smooth chest tucked into skin-tight black leather pants, black Gucci loafers on his feet. He threw an expensive suede jacket on, picking up his brush and vigorously did his hair until it crackled and gleamed under the fluorescent lights. He negligently pulled the dark locks back into a low ponytail and left the room, slipping on a pair of sleek sunglasses, pleased at his appearance, but completely unaware of just how hot he really was. He met up with Scotty Anton as he was making his way to the backstage curtain and they waited for their entrance cue. There was no sign of Rob, which suited Cyrus just fine. The last thing he needed was a scuffle just before going out. He snapped his fingers, suddenly, excusing himself, saying that he'd forgotten something and went back to his dressing room, returning within a minute, a faint, self-satisfied smirk lurking around his lips.
"What are you up to, Cy?" Scotty inquired, smiling a little at his boss.
"Never you mind," he answered, patting the younger man on the shoulder. "I've got everything under control."
Their music hit and they strolled out to the ring, confidence oozing from the two men. They strutted about the ring as they waited for RVD's theme to come on, prudently retreating to their side of the squared circle as the curtains parted and Rob strode through, a set, determined look on his face. He stepped through the ropes, pointedly staring the man who'd betrayed him down before turning his attention to Cyrus, his glare so icy that Cyrus could feel the chill to his bones. He quickly exited the ring after murmuring a few words of encouragement to his prot�g�.
As the bell rang for the match to begin, Cyrus paced outside the ring, watching closely as the two combatants locked up, testing each other, circling like wary animals before pouncing again. He yelled instructions to Scotty, insults to Rob, managing to get in a few cheap shots when he could. At one point, when Scotty had Rob draped over the bottom rope, Cyrus signaled for Scotty to distract the referee and proceeded to slap Rob across the face several times, hissing obscenities in his face, ending by wrenching his head down to choke on the cable, quickly moving away as the ref turned toward them. He lifted his hands and smiled innocently to the striped-shirted man, insisting that he had been good and not involved himself in the action.
As the match wore on, Rob got his second wind and began getting the upper hand, the battle degenerating from a basically technical match to a brawl that spilled out of the ring. Rob slammed Scotty's face into the steel steps a couple of times before backdropping him on the thinly covered concrete. He half-rolled back into the ring to break the count, then returned to brutalizing his former best friend.
Cyrus bit the inside of his lip, trying to judge when would be the best time to put his plan into action. It didn't look like Scotty could hold up much longer. Rob was beating the shit out of him. Rob tossed Scotty back into the ring, following closely and laid him out in the center. He went to a turnbuckle and climbed, preparing to execute his finishing maneuver, the Van Daminator, totally ignoring Cyrus outside.
Cyrus sensed that this was his chance and nimbly hopped up on the apron just as Rob was about to fly, withdrawing a pair of numchucks and aiming a jab at the spot where Rob's leg was most vulnerable-the recently healed shin. Rob, anticipating something devious from him, swiftly jerked away, kicking Cyrus square in the chest and sending him sailing backwards off the apron to the floor where he banged his head against the railing, blacking out.
When he came to, it was all over and the ref was raising Rob's hand in victory. He got to his feet, shaking his hair, which had loosened from it's holder, out of his face and stared at Rob in dread.
"Shit!" he mumbled under his breath and, without a backward glance to see how Scotty was, fled the arena, knowing that he couldn't avoid Rob for long, but wanting to at least gain some time to prepare himself for the eventual confrontation.
He grabbed his bag from his dressing room and drove to his hotel, punching out the code to his penthouse suite. He was tempted to call down and alert the front desk to prevent Rob from coming up, but he knew, without any doubt, that if Rob wanted to get to him, he'd stop at nothing to do it. He poured himself a stiff scotch, downing it in one gulp, gasping as it blazed a fiery path to his stomach, landing with a muted explosion. Too late, he remembered that he hadn't eaten anything all day, and he felt the alcohol immediately effect him, making him a little light-headed. He splashed some more into his glass, adding some water this time, and paced the thick carpet, sipping and cursing his luck. What the hell was he supposed to do now? There was just no way that Rob was going to pass up this opportunity to gain his revenge on him for every dirty, underhanded, malicious deed he'd done to him since the network came into being. He tossed off his jacket, tugging out the ponytail holder that hung by a few strands, hurling it in frustration across the room. Damn Scotty! He was supposed to put Rob out! He should have known that he couldn't depend on an amateur like him. He should have had Rhino standing by as a backup, but he was so preoccupied with Sandman and that situation that he figured he wouldn't be much help to him.
Christ, how did he get himself into these messes? He went back to the bar for another drink, pulling off his glasses and setting them on the rich wood of the cabinet, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He didn't like the desperate fear in his eyes, like a trapped animal who senses his impending destruction. He averted his eyes, taking a swig of his scotch, almost choking on the liquid as he heard the private elevator come to life.
It had to be Rob.
Cyrus frantically looked around the room for some sort of weapon, or perhaps a place to hide himself. But there was nothing and nowhere to hide. Maybe if he attacked first, he'd have a chance to postpone his fate, thus give him time to figure out a way to avoid it. He picked up the nearly empty scotch bottle and went to the lift, standing to the side, raising the bottle and waiting.
*****
Rob was strangely calm as he pressed the code into the penthouse elevator. He'd had no trouble getting it from the desk clerk, a $50 bill enough to loosen the girl's tongue. He stared at the doors as he gradually rose, forcing himself to think before he acted. He was going to methodically tear Cyrus apart, not with a burning rage, but with an icy control, choosing each target before striking. He would make Cyrus scream before he was through with him.
A subdued bell dinged as the elevator slowed to a halt, the doors silently gliding open. Just before he stepped out, he sensed a presence and instinctively crouched, darting out of the lift and rolling out of the way as Cyrus hurled himself at the spot where he should have been. Rob was already on his feet and moving, grasping Cyrus's wrist and twisting, causing him to drop the bottle with a cry. He whirled him around, brutally wrenching his arm up behind his back between his shoulderblades, shoving him against the wall.
"So," Rob growled, snaking a forearm around Cyrus's throat and jerking back, satisfied to hear the other man gag. "you thought to get a jump on me and attempt to do a number on me so I wouldn't beat the shit out of you, didn't you?"
Cyrus's free hand scrabbled at Rob's arm, desperate to breathe, his windpipe nearly crushed under the pressure. "Please...can't...breathe..." he managed, his vision starting to dim a little as his brain struggled for oxygen.
Rob loosened his hold slightly, not wanting the prick to pass out before he'd exacted his vengeance. He leaned in to hiss in his ear. "Oh, no...I don't want you unconscious yet. I've got very important...and painful plans for you, sweetheart."
"Please, Rob, don't do this," Cyrus pleaded hoarsely, grimacing as his shoulder shrieked with agony. "We can work this out like civilized men, can't we?"
Rob snorted derisively, releasing Cyrus's neck to tangle his fingers in his hair, yanking his head back. "'Civilized men'? No, Cyrus, we can't. You see, right now, I just don't feel too civilized. Right now, I'd like to rip your head off and shove it up your ass."
Cyrus, heart pounding with both fear and panic, made a last-ditch effort to free himself, snapping his head back, cracking it against Rob's forehead. His hold relaxed, giving him the opening he needed to twist out of Rob's grip. He stumbled away, rubbing his shoulder, putting a chair between them, keeping a wary eye on him.
Rob braced an arm on the wall, his hand pressed to his head, jaw ticking as he waited for the pain to subside. His anger grew by leaps and bounds as he caught Cyrus edging toward the bedroom out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and pinned the other man with a piercing glare.
"Take one more step and I'll make your punishment that much worse," he said, his tone low and menacing.
Cyrus halted despite himself, glancing longingly at the sanctuary of his bedroom, then back at the enraged Rob. He wondered if he could dive for safety before Rob got his hands on him, but before he could even try it, Rob was across the room and knocking him to the floor. The air whooshed out of him, leaving him fighting to draw a breath as Rob unbuckled his belt and whipped it out of the loops, then wrapped it tightly around Cyrus's wrists. He rolled to his feet, hauling his captive up by the hair and shoved him into the plush, wide leather chair.
"You keep your ass planted or I'll rip your heart out and feed it to you, you hear me?"
Cyrus clenched his teeth, attempting to out-stare Rob, but after a few seconds, he averted his eyes, unable to hold those blazing orbs. Rob disappeared into the bedroom and Cyrus heard drawers being ripped open. A few moments later, he returned with a grim smile on his face, holding up a pair of handcuffs with a long chain connected to a single cuff on the other end. "I knew you'd have something like this hanging around, knowing what a sick bastard you are."
Cyrus briefly closed his eyes in dismay, knowing that whatever Rob had in store for him, it would be much worse than anything he could have imagined. Rob sauntered over to him, removing the belt and standing back, a faintly sardonic grin flirting around his mouth.
"Take off your clothes."
Cyrus's eyes widened in shock. "What?"
"You heard me," Rob replied, gesturing towards him. "strip...now."
Cyrus shook his head, starting to rise. "I don't know what you've got planned in that sick mind of yours, but I-"
Rob casually backhanded him into the chair again, looming over him, dark eyes glittering dangerously. "I'm calling the shots here, bitch. Now, do as your told and strip, or I'll do it for you."
Cyrus gazed into the deadly depths of Rob's eyes and knew he would do exactly what he threatened. With a scowl, he obeyed, wriggling out of his clothes and dropping them to the floor, flushing a little at Rob's slow perusal of his body.
"Hands."
Cyrus pressed his lips together in helpless fury and held out his wrists, watching as Rob snapped the cuffs on, the cold metal sending a shiver through him. Rob tugged on the chain, urging him to his feet.
"Turn around."
Cyrus hesitated, but quickly did as he was told when Rob smacked his hip none-too-gently. Rob walked around the chair, dragging Cyrus into the seat again, this time, on his knees. He fastened the remaining cuff to a metal rod beneath the chair, forcing Cyrus to half lean over the back, Rob vanished into the bedroom again, coming back with a few items in his hands. When Cyrus saw what they were, he whimpered inwardly.
Rob went to the coffee table, pulling it closer, setting his burdens down on it. "You call me sick, when you have all this stuff in your suitcase?" Rob said, picking up a cockring twirling it on a finger. "You know, I had planned on just beating the crap out of you, but now..."
Cyrus craned his neck to watch Rob apprehensively, dreading his next words.
"...now, I think a little humiliation is in order first. After all, you've humiliated me plenty of times, haven't you, Cy boy?"
"I-I don't know-"
Rob reached out and slapped Cyrus lightly across the mouth. "Shut up. You won't speak unless I tell you you can. Understand?" When Cyrus didn't answer, he slapped him again. "I said, understand?" He nodded, impotent anger staining his cheeks red. "Good. I might just make it easier on you if you remember that." Rob smiled almost pleasantly as he slipped a hand between Cyrus's legs, grasping his limp member and slowly began stroking it, smile broadening at Cyrus's gasp of surprise. "I think we'll start with this. Mmmmm, you know, if I didn't hate your guts so much, I think I'd enjoy this. You're quite endowed, aren't you? Bet you made a lot of girls...and guys happy with this, huh?"
Cyrus was mortified to feel himself growing hard at Rob's ministrations. Christ! What the fuck was happening here? He was getting turned on by Rob Van Dam? No, had to just be the stimulus. Who wouldn't get hard at a warm, stroking hand? He closed his eyes, unwilling to see the gloating expression on Rob's hated face. They flew open again at the painful squeeze on his balls.
"None of that, Hon," Rob whispered mildly, continuing his teasing manipulation until he was fully erect, slipping the cockring on, settling it at the base with a smug pat. "There!" He turned back to the table, plucking up a whip with dozens of knotted strands at the other end.
"No," Cyrus breathed plaintively, his skin already cringing at the anticipated pain. He despised himself for begging, but he couldn't help it. "Please, don't...I'll do anything...anything!"
Rob chuckled scornfully. "A little too late for that, sweetheart. I'm going to make you do everything anyway. So that little attempt to save your ass won't work."
Cyrus clamped his mouth shut, forcing back any further pleas, steeling himself for the coming blows, unprepared for the searing flames that erupted on his back and buttocks. His breath hissed through his teeth and came back out with a mewling whine that he tried to squelch, but had no success.
Rob grinned tightly as his arm rose and fell, precisely picking out his spots, careful not to break the skin, wanting to inflict the most pain with the less amount of damage. He was surprised to feel himself becoming aroused by the writhing, whimpering form. He didn't like that at all, but he didn't halt his motions, pausing once to grab his hair and jerk his head back to rasp in his ear,
"How do you feel, Cy baby? Hurt a little? I'm afraid I'm in a little pain myself here." He ground his hips into him, letting him feel the hard bulge, gratified at the low moan from Cyrus. He released his damp hair and loosely clasped his stiff cock, feeling the hot throbbing beneath his fingers. He had to bite his tongue to keep from moaning himself at the spike of desire it sent through him. "What? No begging for mercy? Maybe I'm not being hard enough on you."
"No...please..." Cyrus mewled pathetically, arching into Rob's clever fingers involuntarily, tugging at his bonds, praying for some miracle that would deliver him from this intolerable torture. "Haven't you done enough? Let me go, okay?"
Rob stepped away, studying the livid welts on Cyrus's back and ass, fingering the leather bits thoughtfully before dropping the whip, running a hand roughly over his marred skin, smiling crookedly as Cyrus curved away from the touch, gasping in distress. His hand splayed on one taut buttock, an utterly diabolical idea springing to his mind. He pondered it thoroughly for a long moment, examining it from every angle, weighing the consequences against the potential benefits and then nodding decisively.
Cyrus jumped at the feel of wet heat licking up his neck. He turned his head to glimpse Rob's dark blond one bending to scrape his teeth over his shoulder, tongue lightly flicking over the skin. "What-what are you doing?"
Rob didn't stop what he was doing, sinking his teeth into the meaty part of his shoulder before answering. "I think I've found an even better way to exact my pound of flesh...so to speak."
Cyrus trembled at the undercurrent of sensuality in Rob's tone, confused by the conflicting emotions. His thoughts were wiped clean, however, at the gentle plucking of his nipples, one of the most sensitive areas on his body. He groaned softly, arching into the pleasure, his eyes fluttering closed as Rob whispered sibilantly in his reluctant ear.
"Oooh, you like that, don't you? That feels good, hmmm? Would you like me to suck them? Run my wet tongue over your nipples and make them hard?"
Cyrus bowed his head, struggling not to beg for him to do just that. He sucked in his breath as Rob wet his fingers and continued toying with the hardening peaks, adding a new torment by slowly undulating his hips into his buttocks. "Please...Rob...don't!"
Rob's hands smoothed down over Cyrus's belly, feeling it flutter and contract, and rested them on his waist, his warm breath puffing against the back of his neck. "You want me to stop?"
Cyrus nodded curtly, even though his body protested loudly. "Yes. I think you've gotten your revenge."
"You think so?" Rob asked, his voice neutral. "You think you've suffered enough for all you've done to me? You think the debt is paid?"
Cyrus flinched at the steely note underlying his words and the bruising pressure of his fingers. "You've got what you wanted. You humiliated me, whipped me. What more do you want?" There was a long silence in which Cyrus held his breath. He thought Rob wouldn't answer, then he spoke.
"I want to break you."
Cyrus's heart stuttered, then resumed at a gallop at the dead flatness of his words. "No," he said, alarmed at the utter defeat in his tone.
"Yes," Rob hissed, leaning his body hard into him, wrenching his head back for a savage kiss, devoid of passion, full of rage and the need to dominate.
Cyrus whimpered as he tasted the blood from his cut lip, rattling hopelessly at the cuffs. Just when he thought that his neck would snap with the strain, Rob's kiss gentled, his tongue flitting out to lap at the blood that trickled down his chin, darting inside to thoroughly explore the depths, exerting his authority as he conquered.
"Submit to me," Rob growled softly, nibbling his chin, dipping his head to kiss the tender skin just below his jaw. "Submit to me and I might have mercy on you."
Cyrus blinked in bafflement at Rob's suddenly gentle, almost tender behavior. "And if I don't," he breathed, his head falling back as Rob grazed the edge of his teeth along the chord of his throat.
"If you don't..." Rob mumbled, returning to his lips and sighing warmly. "I'll have to hurt you badly."
"You're going to do that anyway," Cyrus replied bitterly, shuddering at the feel of nimble fingers cupping and squeezing his balls.
"Perhaps," he agreed. "Then again, I might decide to let you go...after."
Cyrus twisted his head around to look into Rob's heavy-lidded gaze. "After what?"
Rob smiled wickedly. "You'll see." He released Cyrus temporarily, pulling off his shirt, peeling down his jeans and kicking off his shoes. When he was naked, he padded around to the back of the chair, facing Cyrus's wide-eyed look. "You know how to suck cock, don't you?"
Cyrus flushed hotly, having no doubt in his mind what Rob wanted next. He opened his mouth to object, but Rob laid a deceptively gentle finger over his lips.
"Before you refuse, I urge you to think about it. It could mean the difference between you being able to walk out of here relatively unscathed, or..." He quirked a brow, letting the threat trail off, leaving Cyrus to fill in the rest. His imagination would be much worse than any threat he could voice.
Cyrus chewed his lip in helpless frustration, wanting to curse him for this whole situation. Wanting to curse himself for the twinge of lust at the thought of tasting Rob's flesh. "You're a fucking bastard, Rob," Cyrus husked, bowing his head in submission, pressing his trembling lips to Rob's abdomen.
Rob gave a hoarse chuckle, full of self-deprecation. "Don't I know it. But at least I'm not alone, right?" He didn't hear Cyrus's grunt of agreement over his own moan of pleasure as Cyrus curled his sinuous tongue around the head of his shaft, drawing it into the heated cavern of his mouth. He twined his fingers in his hair, urging him to take more of him, his breath catching at the wet suction.
"Ahh, God, Cy...this is what your mouth should be used for, not talking shit every week. Mmmm...that's it, baby...harder...take all of it...yeah."
Cyrus's nostrils flared, startled at his reaction to Rob's gruff words and sounds of pleasure. He found himself grinding his hips into the cushions, searching for relief from the raging need to climax. He whimpered as he came close, but the damned cockring prevented him from completion.
Rob grasped his head, rocking his hips in rhythm to Cyrus's sucking, fingers tightening as he felt himself on the verge of coming. He abruptly pulled out, both men gasping as they fought to bring themselves under a modicum of control.
"Damn, but you've got a clever mouth," Rob panted heavily, stumbling around to pick something up off the table. Cyrus rested his cheek on his bound hands, trying to regain some of his composure. He couldn't stop the tremors racking his body, however and he tried to clench his muscles. But nothing worked. He started at the feel of slick fingers trailing down his spine, delving between the reddened globes of his buttocks.. His breath stilled at the faint probing of his entrance, exhaling sharply as a finger pressed inside. He bit his forearm to keep from moaning at the scintillating delight it gave him.
"Spread your knees, bitch," Rob murmured huskily, nipping his neck hard before soothing the wound with a lap of his tongue.
Cyrus wanted to disobey, but his body betrayed him by complying to his demand, his knees parting wide until they bumped against the arms of the chair, exposing all of himself to Rob's eyes and hands. He eased another finger into him, rocking them in and out while he teased the aching shaft, enjoying the little reluctant sounds coming from Cyrus. He licked the rim of Cyrus's ear, suckling on the lobe before blowing warm air into it, pleased at the shiver that elicited.
"You want me to fuck you, Cyrus?" he brushed his fingers over the prostate, making Cyrus gasp, his hips jerking into the chair. "Want me to fuck you like the bitch dog you are?" He leaned close so that his body lay fully against him, his voice dropping to a low, sensual rumble. "Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want."
Cyrus shook his head helplessly, moaning at the way Rob was talking to him, the way his fingers seemed to know just where to stroke to drive him crazy. It was all too much for his nerves to take. "Please...Rob, please..."
"Yesss," Rob said in a soft susurration that made gooseflesh rise on the back of Cyrus's neck. "Beg for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you beg for me to fuck you into oblivion. You want that, don't you?"
Cyrus set his teeth in his lower lip, trying to deny the sizzling pleasure streaking through him, but his body said otherwise, his hips tilting back to urge his fingers deeper. His cock pulsed painfully with the need to release. Christ, he wanted to be fucked into the ground!
Rob chuckled, sensing Cyrus's struggle to keep his already-lost dignity. He gripped one leg, lifting it and draping it over the arm of the chair, spreading him even wider before removing his fingers and guiding the blunt tip of his shaft to his tight opening, rubbing it teasingly back and forth, making Cyrus wriggle in torment, wordlessly pleading for him to continue. "You won't get what you want until I get what I want," the blond man gritted, finding it difficult to keep a firm handle on his own control. "Tell me you want it and I'll give it to you."
Cyrus leaned back against Rob, dropping his head back and to the side to rest on his shoulder, his breath puffing rapidly over his adversary's skin. "Please..." It was all he could get past the constriction in his throat.
Rob studied the other man's strained features, the need in his eyes sending a jolt of his own through his body. He had wanted to torture the man. Had wanted to have him gibbering and begging for him before he took him brutally, leaving him unsatisfied. But the way he was looking at him made him want to see what it was like to watch him come. He growled softly, inching himself into Cyrus as carefully as possible, allowing him to stretch around him. He scrutinized every play of emotion that flitted across his face, abruptly shoving Cyrus down, unable to look at him any longer. He pushed full-length inside him, gritting his teeth at the tight heat. He moved then, hard and fast, ignoring the whimpers of pain from Cyrus, wanting to get this over so he could leave. He climaxed a moment later, groaning as he spilled himself into the limp man. He lay over him for a moment, catching his breath before withdrawing. He stood, staring down at Cyrus, who didn't move, his face buried in one arm. He knew he should just dress and go, his revenge duly taken. But the slight shaking of Cyrus's shoulders froze him to the spot. Was he crying? The idea made his stomach clench oddly. Before he thought better of it, he slid his hand into Cyrus's hair and tugged his head up. Twin tracks of tears trickled down his pale cheeks. Cyrus yanked away, wiping the offending wetness, his hair shielding his humiliation.
"You got what you wanted," Cyrus whispered hoarsely. "Take these cuffs off and go."
He didn't know why he just didn't take the out Cyrus was offering, but instead of obliging, he unfastened the chain from the rod beneath the chair and dragged Cyrus to his feet. "Who says I got what I wanted?" he said sardonically, towing the bemused Cyrus behind him into the bedroom. "Get on the bed and open those legs wide."
Cyrus listlessly did as he was told, already having the spirit literally screwed out of him. He didn't care anymore what Rob did. He indifferently watched as Rob reattached the third cuff to the headrails. Rob hesitated then, looking down at him for a long moment before letting out a low curse and releasing the catches on the cuffs, freeing him.
"Why'd you do that?" Cyrus asked, almost disinterestedly.
Rob didn't answer, climbing on the bed and settling between his enemy's legs, pulling off the cockring and hurling it away. Without warning, Rob bent down and swallowed Cyrus's entire length, sucking hard.
Cyrus's apathy blew apart like wisps of smoke in a strong wind, crying out harshly as his body bucked in intense pleasure. "Ahh, God! Rob...oh, Jesus!"
Rob lightly pumped the root of his shaft as he gently sucked the head, his free hand fondling his balls. He relished the panting moans, the pleas for him to go faster, to bring him off. But Rob had other plans.
Cyrus thought he would have a stroke, the pleasure was just too intense to be sustained without relief. Just as he was on the verge of exploding, Rob would back off, soothing him with soft kisses to his stomach and thighs before starting all over again, each time taking him closer and closer to ecstasy, but never quite taking him all the way. He attempted to force him to finish him by burying his fists in Rob's hair and arching his hips, but Rob chuckled and moved away, disentangling his fingers and gliding up his body to lay atop him, their hips flush, their erections rubbing maddeningly against each other. Rob claimed his lips, darting his tongue inside the warm depths, curling around the other man's tongue, drawing it into his own mouth and sucking, scraping the edges of his teeth along the surface.
Cyrus expected Rob to hurt him eventually, but he reveled in the sensuality for the moment, his hands tentatively sliding down his back, enjoying the satiny feel of his skin under his palms.
"Mmmm, I like that," Rob whispered, nuzzling his throat, licking the hollow where Cyrus's pulse fluttered erratically.
"Yeah? How about this?" He lightly skimmed his nails up the blond man's spine, gratified at the shudder that rippled through him. "And this?" He wedged his hands between them, circling his nipples with his thumbs, delicately pinching them until they pearled into tight buds. Rob moaned, the vibration sending corresponding quivers through his chest.
"Cyrus..." Rob gasped, curving into his touch, nipping his flesh hard.
"You want more?" Cyrus asked languidly, pressing a kiss to Rob's temple, tilting his hips up, clamping his thighs around Rob's legs to accentuate the erotic grinding of their bodies.
"God...I want to fuck you again. I want to hear you scream my name when you come."
Cyrus stiffened for a split-second, then relaxed again, feeling Rob's hands smoothing over his skin like a whisper. "Yes...fuck me. Do what you want to me. I'm yours."
Rob raised his head and gazed intently into Cyrus's dark eyes, drawing the backs of his fingers across one cheekbone. "Mine."
Cyrus nodded, completely surrendering himself to Rob's whims, knowing that it could be a complete mistake, but unable to change his mind. He forced himself to stay still as Rob rose to his hands and knees, sitting back on his heels to just look at him. He caressed the insides of Cyrus's thighs lightly, grazing against his balls, which tightened in reaction. He couldn't take it any more. He had to have Rob inside him or he'd burn into ashes. He thrust his pelvis invitingly, mewing a little. Rob glanced up with a faint smile.
"You're damned gorgeous, you know that?"
Cyrus blinked in surprise. "Huh?"
Rob dipped a thumb into Cyrus's navel, then stroked the silky skin beneath. "You're gorgeous. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"
Cyrus couldn't speak for the sudden lump that had risen into his throat. He shook his head, embarrassed at the pricking of tears at the backs of his eyes. Shit, what was the matter with him? Getting misty at a compliment that was probably not even sincere? But he was still moved by it.
Rob stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then grinned in delight. "Well, then, guess I'm the first, eh? How ironic." Rob noticed the other man's puzzled look. "Well, think about it...your worst enemy is the first person to tell you how hot you are? You've gotta laugh."
Funny, but Cyrus didn't feel like laughing. "Yeah, a laugh riot."
Rob's smile faded, his attention coming back to the matter at hand. "Hold on, I'll be right back." He bounced off the bed and left the room, leaving Cyrus feeling unaccountably bereft. But Rob was back within a minute, carrying the lubricant in one hand. He crawled onto the mattress like a tawny lion, half-lidded eyes looking almost predatory.
"You want me, Cyrus?" he inquired softly, loosely wrapping his fingers around his stiff rod.
Cyrus whined at the touch, feeling the nearly agonizing throb in his groin. "I want you...now...please, Rob."
Rob grinned, flicking the top of the tube open and squeezing a liberal amount of gel in his hand, slowly working it into his own shaft, making sure Cyrus saw every stroke, heard every moan as he pleasured himself. He then slid two fingers into the puckered hole, curling them up until he found the slight bulge and rubbed gently, chuckling wickedly when Cyrus's hips bowed off the bed, his breath hissing in and out raggedly. "Damn, but you're so responsive," Rob growled, removing his hand and moving into position.
Cyrus just couldn't prevent himself from growing rigid as Rob pushed inside him, the recollection of his previous invasion horrifically clear in his mind. But this time, Rob was patient, massaging his thighs and sides, murmuring nonsense words to soothe him. Gradually, his muscles loosened one by one and he was able to move past the pain to the exquisite fullness as Rob eased all the way into him.
"Shit!" Rob gasped, his head thrown back, jaw clenched as he tried to keep control. "So fucking tight."
Cyrus's insides contracted at his words and they both groaned in surprise at the skitter of pleasure it afforded. He deliberately did it once more and Rob cursed loudly and began withdrawing, then drove forward. Cyrus's eyes snapped shut as heat prickled through him at the sweet, sweet friction. He was unaware of the kittenish sounds he was making, but Rob heard them, which only served to turn him on more. He wanted to pound into Cyrus like a wild animal, but he was conscious of how brutal he'd been the first time and wanted to make it good for him this time around.
"Rob...Rob...baby, please..."
Rob leaned down, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. "What is it, Cy? Tell me what you want."
Cyrus couldn't speak for a moment, the sensations nearly overwhelming him. "Please...fuck me hard. I want to feel you deep...hard and deep..."
Rob's lungs emptied of air in a gush, his eyes closing as the sweet words washed over him. He didn't need to be told twice. He started to pump into him in long, deep lunges, sliding an arm beneath his hips to raise him higher to increase the penetration, his other hand delicately stroking his cock, the contrast between the fierce thrusts and the gentle strokes nearly maddening to Cyrus.
Cyrus was begging incoherently, incapable of stopping his body from writhing and bucking as he began to spiral upward, his orgasm agonizingly close.
Rob could feel Cyrus about to come and quickened his tempo, angling his hips to rub against his G-spot, using a firmer grip to pump him, wanting to see him explode. "That's it, baby," Rob crooned. "Shoot for me. Come on...that's right...like that!"
Cyrus arched completely off the mattress, shrieking as he splintered into a million pieces, the climax so intense that his fingers ripped through the bedspread and sheets. He dimly heard an answering roar as a hot jet spurted into him. He whimpered as he collapsed back onto the bed, in time to catch Rob as he followed. He buried his face in Rob's damp hair, immersing himself in his scent and weight for this short time before they returned to the real world.
Rob sighed gustily, cautiously easing from Cyrus and flopping to his side. He opened his eyes to look at Cyrus, noting the wary expression. He smiled slowly, bringing his hand up to deliberately lick the come from his fingers, pleased at the affect it had on Cyrus.
"So..." Cyrus started hesitantly, uncertain of what he was going to say until it was blurted out. "What happens now?"
The blond man shrugged nonchalantly. "Who the fuck knows? Does it matter?"
"Well, hell yes, it matters," Cyrus said, wondering at Rob's casual attitude, shivering as Rob twirled a lock of his dark hair around his index finger, tugging it slightly, eyes heavy-lidded and sated.
"Not to me," he mumbled as he moved closer to nuzzle his lips under Cyrus's chin, an arm locking around his waist.
Cyrus moaned, lifting a hand to push him away, but ending up brushing the wet hair from Rob's face and neck. "But we hate each other. Doesn't that ring a bell?"
Rob chuckled under his breath. "It means jack shit to me right now."
"But what about all the stuff I did to you, the things you threatened to do to me, all the things I said-"
Rob covered his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. "I'll hate you tomorrow. Right now, I want to love you until you won't be able to walk for a week."
Cyrus's protests melted away under Rob's deft mouth and hands. Oh, what the fuck? He'll think about it tomorrow. It worked for Scarlett O'Hara, why not him?