>I went to start working on House of Sable Locks again, but the words weren’t flowing. And I have two deadlines coming up, so I figured, let me work on one of those. Nothing in the creative brain for Like a Cunning Plan yet. But Nick and Steven are always ready to play….
Yep, I’ll be submitting a Nick and Steven story for the Circlet advent calendar. Working title is Snowbound, and if you remember these two from The Hand You’re Dealt, you know that’s a bit of a double entendre. Oh, and if I have to tell you that this is NSFW, then someone hasn’t been paying attention.
Want a taste? Now, this is pretty raw — complete stream of consciousness stuff. So it might change a little before I’m finished. But here’s the beginnings of this new scene:
*****
“Happy, mily?” he murmured into my hair.
“A little sorry that we’re going to miss Christmas with the folks,” I admitted. “But otherwise? Yes, I’m happy.” I tipped my head back, expecting him to kiss me. Instead, he ran his finger down my exposed throat to hook on the chain that I wore, the one that marked me as his. He tugged gently and laughed.
“Shall I make you happier?”
I smiled, “Is that a proposition, Kolya?”
“Do you want it to be?” This time he did lean down and kiss me, his arm around my shoulder tightening as he pulled me to him. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, sliding my hand up under his sweater and tugging on his undershirt. He laughed against my lips and pulled back. “Not yet, you don’t,” he said, pushing my hand down. He gently pushed me back and the couch shifted as he stood up. “Take your clothes off. I’ll be right back.”
“You’ve been planning this! I know you have!” I called out as I heard him leave the room. No answer, so I pulled my sweater over my head and started undoing the buttons on my shirt. By the time I heard Nick coming back, I was down to my skivvies and socks. I stripped out of them quickly. Not quickly enough, it seemed.
“Being a little slow?”
“It’s cold,” I answered, standing up straight. “Can we throw another log on the fire if we’re going to play in here?”
In answer, I heard the firescreen squeak, and then a pair of soft thumps. The fire started to crackle a little more as the screen squeaked again. Then Nick was behind me, his hands cold on my hips, “Better?”
I nodded and leaned back against him, feeling the rough wool of his sweater scratching against my back. “Much. Now what?”
His answer was to pull my arms behind me, crossing my wrists and binding them tightly with something wide and soft. I felt it brush my fingertips and realized what he was using. “Ribbon?”
“Red and green stripes. Very seasonal,” he answered. “Now let me move you.”
First, he brought me down to my knees and leaned me over the ottoman. It wasn’t an unfamiliar position, by any means, but he was still fully dressed. I heard a snap, and a moment later something cold and hard was pressing against my ass. I took a deep breath and relaxed for the butt-plug, trying not to squirm too much as Nick used it to tease me until I was so turned on I could barely stand it, my cock full and damn near screaming for attention. Nick wasn’t done yet, though, and once he’d finally put the plug where he wanted it, he pulled me back up to my feet and steadied me until I could walk I let him steer me and ended up closer to the fire, my back growing pleasantly warm as he left me there and started doing something else. It sounded like he was moving something heavy, but I was distracted by my cock and by the plug and couldn’t figure out what it could be. When he came back to me, he led me back across the room and sat me down, which was when I found out what he had been doing — the couch where we had been sitting was a king-sized futon, and now the cushion was gone, leaving me sitting gingerly on the cool wooden slat frame. Nick nudged me gently until I was where he wanted me, then moved away.
“Don’t move,” he said, his voice now coming from behind me. I heard a hissing sound, and then something narrow, soft and cool — more ribbon, I assumed — pressed up against my belly. It tightened, and another ribbon followed the first, a little higher up, until my torso was bound tightly to the frame and I was feeling very much like a bug caught in a spider’s web.
“Comfortable?” Nick asked. He’d come around the futon again, and was standing in front of me. I tried to shift and found that I couldn’t move an inch in either direction. The bondage was tight, secure, and incredibly arousing. I had no idea where he was going with this, but I knew I wanted more.
“I’m fine,” I answered.
“Good. Now spread your legs, as wide as you can.” I did what I was told, and felt Nick’s hands on my left knee, pulling my leg a little further out before he started to tie it to the frame. He did the same to the other leg, running more ribbon from my knees to the tops of my thighs, leaving me completely, obscenely spread. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means — even though it had been a long time since I’d last danced, I was still ridiculously flexible. Right at that moment, it was a good thing, too. Nick certainly seemed to think so. He ran his nails down the inside of my thigh, and I heard him laugh as I moaned and tried to move. Instead of doing anything else to me, he moved away, and I felt something tighten around my ankle. A sharp tug, and I knew he’d tied my ankles to the legs of the frame. I wasn’t going anywhere until he released me. Yippee!
