Claimed

Jim grinned, listening to the muttered grumbling and multi-lingual curses as Blair discovered the elevator was out of order, yet again, and headed up the stairs.

He managed to open the door just in time for a panting Sandburg to stumble into the loft, and took quick advantage of the opportunity to touch, steadying the younger man with a firm grip around his shoulders. “New feet, Chief?”

“Jim. Shit man, you’re home already? Okay... um....” Blair drew a deep breath, eyes darting around the room. Jim braced himself for the coming torrent.“Okay, man, this is good. Here,” he shoved a large, well-worn book into Jim’s hands. Jim blinked. “I know, I know,” Blair shook his head, waving his arms in the air, “my turn to cook. I swear, I’ll be back in 10 minutes with the groceries and supper’ll be ready in a half hour. Will you put that in my room for me? It goes in the stack on the left, between Aguirre’s American Ethnicity: The Dynamics and Consequences of Discrimination and Sims’ Adam’s Navel: A Natural and Cultural History of the Human Form. Thanks, man!”

The door slammed and Jim was alone. Whirlwind Blair had departed, leaving him standing in sudden silence, holding the heavy text, staring at the closed door. “It goes where?” he asked the empty room.

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Jim headed for Blair’s room. The clutter that had originally been confined to the small bookshelf had spread to the floor and pretty much every available horizontal surface, including the small bed. “The stack on the left, he says,” Jim muttered. “The question is, the stack on the left of what?”

Deciding it would be better altogether to not even start digging around for the proper pile, Jim tossed the book onto the small bed. Bouncing against the pillow, it caused a cascade of books and papers to shift and slide to the floor.

“Damn.” Jim muttered, moving farther into the room. He knelt down to pick up and re-stack the loose papers into a rough pile. Then reached for the notebooks, adding them to the stack of papers. Last was a small, leather bound book, lying open, face-up. Line after line of Blair’s loose handwriting filled the pages.

Jim hesitated as he reached for the journal, fighting his curiosity. Sentinel research notes, maybe? Wouldn’t hurt to read a bit, would it? Still, he hesitated. Might be personal.

He snorted. I’m the fucking sentinel. If it’s research, it’s about me.

He picked up the journal, opening it to the most recent entry.

Jim slammed the journal closed, his finger still holding the page. Mike? Who the hell was Mike? His conscience screamed at him to put the journal away, to pretend he’d never betrayed Blair’s privacy, but he ignored it, opening the journal again.

Cuffs? The book slammed shut again. “What the fuck!” A sudden mental image of Sandburg, naked on Jim’s bed, wrists handcuffed to the loft railing exploded across Jim’s mind unbidden. He groaned, shifting to adjust his cock as it began to fill, pressing against his zipper. He lifted the journal.

Jesus! Sandburg wanting to be bound, wanting his ass blistered before being fucked into the mattress. It was every wet dream Jim had ever had come true. Too caught up to stop now, Jim read on.

Jim’s heart stopped. Time stood still.

The breath he didn’t even realise he was holding exploded out in a rush. Sandburg had screamed his name. Wanted him. HE was Blair’s fantasy fuck! A rumbling, possessive growl began building in his chest. The time had come for the Sentinel to claim his Guide, once and for all.

Blair leaned against the loft door, balancing on one foot as he supported the slipping bag of groceries with his knee and fumbled for his key. “A little help’d be nice, Ellison,” he grumbled under his breath.

The door swung open and Blair lost his balance completely, stumbling into the loft, groceries spilling across the floor. “Dammit!”

Before Blair could react, he was pulled tight against a hard body, his arms pinned to his sides, a heavy hand covering his mouth. Momentary panic squeezed his chest, and Blair struggled ineffectually against the iron grip.

Finally still, panting from the exertion but no closer to freedom, he felt lips brush against his ear, warm puffs of breath tickled along his skin as the words they carried triggered an immediate throbbing pulse below his belt, “Your ass is mine now, Sandburg.” The hand covering Blair’s mouth, moved down to squeeze the ass in question.

“Jim?” Blair’s incredulous squeak echoed through the loft.

“Damn right it’s Jim, and don’t you forget it!”

“Fine. Joke’s over funny man,” Blair grumbled, struggling once more against the tight hold, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jim growled, pushing Blair against the closed door. “I said,” Jim wrested Blair’s arms behind his back, snapping handcuffs around the smaller man’s wrists, “your ass is mine.”

Concern for his sentinel quickly replaced Blair’s annoyance. “Jim?” With effort, he kept his voice soothing, non-confrontational, “are you okay?”

“Never better,” Jim grinned, rubbing his hips against the soft curves of Blair’s ass. He pulled a handful of long dark curls up to his face, inhaling the heady scent of Blair, mixed with his herbal shampoo.

Blair swallowed sharply, drawing several deep breaths, concentrating on ignoring the arousal burning in the pit of his belly. Jim couldn’t know what he was doing.

“Jim, is it your senses?”

Ignoring Blair’s question, Jim leaned closer, nuzzling under Blair’s ear to sniff along the strong column of Blair’s throat.

“Jim!” Blair shuddered, swallowing the soft moan of desire struggling to break free, “Did you eat anything new today?”

“Not yet,” the suggestive leer was blatant in Jim’s reply.

“Smell anything?”

“Only how much you’re enjoying this, it’s pouring off you in waves.” Jim inhaled another deep breath.

“Jim,” Blair tried his best, most soothing Guide-voice, “listen to me, Jim, listen to my voice. You need to let me go, get these cuffs off, and then I can help you figure this out. We’ll fix it, whatever’s going on here.”

“You don’t get it Sandburg, nothing’s wrong. I’ve just decided it’s time to stake my claim.” Jim smoothed his hands down Blair’s sides. He held the smaller man’s hips in a steady grip and ground his erection against Blair’s denim-clad ass, leaving no doubt as to his arousal, or intentions.

Blair’s head fell back against Jim’s chest, his eyes closed with a groan, “Jesus, Jim!” His own cock felt ready to burst out of its denim prison. He shook his head, “I can’t let you do this. You’ll regret it in the morning. And then where will we be?”

Jim turned the smaller man around, cupping Blair’s face with his palms, forcing the bright blue eyes to meet his. “I’ll never regret this, Chief.” He smiled, pressing a kiss against tousled curls, inhaling deeply. “Blair.”

Blair swallowed a moan, a sweet tingling spreading down from the crown of his head where Jim’s lips, Jim’s lips!, were still pressed against his hair. It had to be Jim’s senses. Something must’ve thrown them out of whack. Unless of course, he was asleep at his desk in his office at Rainier. Maybe that was it. It was only a dream. In a minute he’d wake up and Jim would be his same grumpy self, growling at him because supper wasn’t ready. Any minute now....

The sharp tug of teeth on his nipple ring brought him back to reality with a yelp, as a jolt of fire shot straight to his cock; the reality of Jim, on his knees, pushing his shirts up, nuzzling, licking and nipping at the silver ring piercing Blair’s left nipple while his hands worked diligently at the fastening of Blair’s jeans, tearing them open and sliding them down to free Blair’s burgeoning erection. “ohgodohgodohgod.”

“I’m gonna take what’s mine,” Jim growled, “gonna claim it, and mark it, so there’s never any question again.” He finished stripping off Blair’s pants, along with his socks and boots, with several sharp tugs. Then, holding Blair’s hips in a tight, steadying grip, he pressed his nose into the auburn curls nesting around Blair’s cock, inhaling the musky odour deeply into his lungs.

Blair’s knees almost buckled. If not for the large hands holding him steady, he might’ve stumbled. He’d never experienced anything so nakedly erotic as the awareness that Jim was inhaling his arousal, imprinting his scent. His own cock jumped as a fresh surge of blood pounded through it.

Jim’s finger’s curled around the smooth globes of Blair’s behind. “This ass is mine now,” he grinned, “and I’m gonna make sure you never forget it.”

“Jesus, Jim,” Blair groaned, his cock bobbing even higher. He had no words left, no words to deny what they both knew he wanted. Words could not deny what his body was screaming he wanted, he needed.

“This we’re saving for later,” Jim murmured, drawing a small leather harness from his own back pocket, and quickly snapping it snugly around Blair’s cock and scrotum.

Blair whimpered, thrusting into Jim’s fingers. The cock ring served to emphasize the tightness, the heavy throbbing in Blair’s cock, making his whole organ painfully sensitive, spiking the fire already burning through his veins to a fever pitch.

Jim stood. Pulling a leather collar from his other pocket, he buckled it around Blair’s neck, pulling his long curls free, and smoothing them down his back. Hooking his finger through the D-ring in the collar, he tugged Blair forward. “Follow me.”

Ignoring the groceries tumbled across the floor, they moved farther into the room, to where a tall stool stood alone, a folded towel on it’s backless seat.

Opening his mouth to question, Blair’s eyes were drawn to a small ball that Jim tossed in the air. A soft jingle echoed through the loft as he caught it again.

“Open wide,” Jim grinned, pushing the ball between Blair’s lips. “That’s gonna serve as your safe word. It’s got holes, so you won’t have any problem breathing, and if you drop it, then we’re done.” He wrapped his fingers around Blair’s bound cock, sliding them just once, up and down the length of it. “So you’d better not drop it, right?”

Blair moaned around the ball, nodding his head wildly as he tried unsuccessfully to push his cock back through Jim’s fingers.

Jim pushed Blair toward the stool, forcing his chest down onto the towel. In a matter of minutes, Jim had Blair’s ankles secured apart to opposite stool legs, with a long leash fastened to his collar and tied down to the lower rung of the stool, his wrists still securely handcuffed behind him. Admiring his handiwork, Jim smoothed a hand along Blair’s flank, adjusting his position slightly.

Blair groaned, positioned as he was, his ass was waving an open invitation to anyone who came along. Did Jim realise what he was doing? Was he planning to do what Blair had only fantasized about? The possibility sent thundering waves of arousal washing through his body, all centering on his cock. Ohgodpleasepleaseplease.

Jim stepped over to the end table and Blair noticed for the first time the mouth-watering array of suede straps and floggers laying there. Ohgodohdod. He whimpered, shifting in his bonds. It’s really going to happen. He could feel the moisture pearling at the tip of his cock.

Jim inhaled deeply, turning a sharp eye on Blair. “Jesus, Sandburg,” he growled, rubbing his hand against the growing bulge in his own jeans, “the pheromones are pouring off you like Niagara Falls.”

Jim moved closer and Blair closed his eyes. He felt one strong, warm hand settle on his back and his breath held in eager anticipation. Any moment now... it’s going to....

SMACK!

An explosion of force and fire bloomed across his left cheek, the weight and heat of Jim’s hand emblazoned on his skin. Bare hands. Ohgod. Jim’s. Bare. Hand.

SMACK!

Another explosion. More fire. Blair barely had time to catch his breath. Lost in a swirling vortex of fantasy merging with, and paling in comparison to, the reality of Jim’s hand working over his ass in a series of strokes, varying in target and intensity, the heat in his ass banking to a steady red haze. He grunted around the ball in his mouth, each blow forcing an explosion of breath from his lungs as he lifted his ass, squirming to meet every new wallop.

The blows stopped as Jim stepped away.

Blair sucked in a deep breath, the heat in his ass easing, spreading to neighbouring body parts. The throbbing adjusting to the increasing beat, his ass and cock pulsing in time with each other.

Without warning, another strike fell, this time a wide leather strap, as Jim started a fresh series of blows, reddening Blair’s ass even further. Blair gasped and jerked in his bonds, each thudding blow of the strap vibrating up his spine.

“Do you think you’ll remember yet, Sandburg?” Jim growled. “Remember whose ass this is?” Several more blows punctuated the end of the question before soothing hands smoothed over the abused flesh, easing, massaging.

Blair whimpered, clenching his jaws around the ball while nodding his head frantically. God yes, Jim! It’s yours, anytime you want it. Again, Jim stepped back. The fire tempered into a deep throbbing pleasure, combining with the aching need in his cock, leaving Blair hot. Hot and desperate. He knew Jim must feel the heat radiating off his reddened flesh, hoped Jim would be aching to sink his cock into that heat, to ease the raging need burning through Blair’s entire body.

Another blow, this time the stinging strike of a multi-tailed flogger, and Blair writhed, moaning as a fresh fire throbbed through him. He’d never been so deep, so burning up with pain and desire, combined together into an aching, throbbing, desperate need. Never met anyone who could play his body so well, bring him to the bright, aching brink of climax, and let it fall away, easing him ever closer and closer until he thought he would go mad with the need to tumble over.

“Sandburg.”

The blows had stopped again. Jim was standing in front of him, lifting his chin with one hand, fondling his own massive erection, extending out of his opened jeans, in the other.

“You can drop the ball now, Chief.”

Blair let the ball drop into Jim’s hand, flexing his jaw slightly to ease its ache. “Jim,” he rasped, swallowing heavily to try ease his cotton mouth.

“Ready for this?” Jim waved his cock in front of Blair’s nose.

Suddenly, lack of moisture in his mouth was not a problem. Blair was salivating with the desire to draw that heavy organ into his mouth, to lick and savour it like an all day sucker. “Jim, please, closer,” he whined, stretching his neck, extending his tongue in an attempt to reach the cock, just teasingly out of his reach.

Jim arched his hips, swiping his leaking cock just once across Blair’s lips before shaking a finger in front of the younger man’s nose. “Sorry,” he grinned, as he eased a condom over the purpled tip, “but this one’s for your ass.”

Jim moved out of his line of sight while Blair concentrated on licking his lips, cleaning off every bit of Jim’s essence that he could, savouring the tangy taste. He heard the soft click of a tube of lube popping open, and then slick fingers were sliding along his cleft, pressing against the tiny opening there.

He groaned, pushing back against Jim’s fingers. “Jesus, yes, Jim! Fuck me. Fuck me now!”

“Whose ass is this?” Jim asked, nudging his fingers deeper, rubbing against Blair’s prostate.

“Yours!” Blair wailed, arching into the pressure, needing more. “Always yours, Jim. Please!”

Jim tangled a possessive grip in Blair’s hair with one hand, centering his slicked erection with the other. “Damn right it is,” he ground out, pushing forward into Blair’s tight heat.

Blair hissed, “Yesssssss,” grinding back against the pressure. Jim’s cock felt huge, massive, pushing its way in, stretching flesh already throbbing with the burn of its recent abuse. “More, Jim, harder.”

Jim pulled back and bucked forward, pounding into the haven of heat, spiralling upward into the heady rush of fucking Blair, grounding himself with the squeals and gasps of pleasure assaulting his hearing.

“yes, yes, yes, ohgod, ohJim, ohyes,” Blair couldn’t stop the words from tumbling forth, punctuating each thrust as Jim drove him higher and higher, closer and closer to the edge.

Jim arched over Blair, grinding his cock against Blair’s prostate, leaning close to inhale the heady scent of Blair’s almost satisfaction.

Blair groaned, so close. So close. He felt Jim’s breath on his ear, a low growl of “mine” and Jim shuddered, his teeth clamping down onto Blair’s shoulder as his hips began pistoning uncontrollably in and out and he shot his climax, jet after jet, deep inside Blair.

“Jim!” It was enough to send Blair careening over the edge into sensual oblivion.

When awareness returned, Blair found himself settled nude across Jim’s lap, gentle hands soothing cooling cream into his ass. He shifted, taking stock. Naked in Jim’s lap. Incredible burning radiating from his ass. A deep ache, the likes of which he hadn’t felt in years... maybe ever.

“jim?” it was barely as whisper, but he knew his Sentinel would hear.

The soothing hands hesitated a mere moment, then continued their long, gentle strokes. “Yeah, Chief?”

“Pinch me.”

“What?”

“Pinch me, Jim.”

Another, longer, hesitation, then a sharp twinge, in the crease of his thigh and ass.

He yelped, rolling over in Jim’s lap, bracing himself with one hand on the couch, the other hanging onto Jim’s shoulder. “It wasn’t a dream?”

Jim sighed, looking anywhere but at his partner. “Would you rather it was?”

Blair cocked his head to the side. “I thought you were taking what’s yours? Making sure I’d never forget it?”

“Blair,” Jim hesitated.

“Too late,” Blair grinned. “No refunds, no returns. You took me. You’re stuck with me now.” He shifted in Jim’s lap, rubbing sinuously against the bigger man. “Of course, there’s no telling how often you might have to remind me. Reiterate your claim. You know me, the absent-minded professor.”

Jim grinned back. “Mine,” he growled, curling his fingers around his partner’s tempting ass, pulling Blair into a deep kiss.