Tarconi snapped the second handcuff around Frank’s left wrist, securing him to the headboard. He smiled when Frank tugged experimentally.
“Aw, you should know by now that you’ll only hurt yourself that way,” Tarconi said, wagging a finger at Frank. “It is your fault for refusing those ones I got for your birthday.”
“They were fuzzy. I don’t do fuzzy,” Frank said. He stopped tugging and laid back, waiting to see what Tarconi would do next. He only broke out the handcuffs when he was trying to surprise Frank.
“But they were so nice,” Tarconi chided. “You just don’t appreciate the delicate things in life. It’s all fast cars and brash fights with you.” He slipped off the bed and rummaged through his dresser. Even craning his head Frank couldn’t make out what he was doing specifically.
“Ah-ha!” Tarconi said triumphantly. “This, however, I think will suit your personality better.” He held it aloft.
“A bully club?” Frank asked. “You know I’m not into pain.”
“I know, I know,” Tarconi said. “That’s not what this is for.” He rubbed it suggestively and grinned. Frank groaned, throwing his head back into the pillow.
“You’re joking. There is no way I’m letting you fuck me with that thing.”
“If you did not trust me, why do you always let me have handcuffs? Hmm?”
Frank rolled his eyes and swallowed hard. “Okay, fine.”
“You sound so enthused. Perhaps we should just have coffee...”
“Damn you, just fuck me already.”
“Since you ask so nicely.”
Tarconi crawled back onto the bed, pressing himself along Frank’s side and kissing him. Frank leaned into the kiss, struggling to keep it going even as Tarconi pulled away, licking and biting his way down Frank’s neck. He continued his way along Frank’s long body, rubbing his hands across the hard muscles, probing for any weak spot that would make him squirm. Getting through Frank’s stoic mask was infinitely pleasurable for Tarconi.
He settled down between Frank’s legs and lifting the right leg over his shoulder, trying to get better access for his mouth as he licked at Frank’s entrance. Frank’s hands clenched into fists and he struggled to keep still and not pull on the cuffs. This was always too much for him, too wet and overwhelmingly dirty and sensual. But Tarconi loved it, and had a way of convincing Frank to take things he thought he couldn’t.
“Oh god, stop, fuck,” Frank’s voice broke a little as he finally gave in. Tarconi pulled back, rubbing Frank’s thigh soothingly.
“Too much?” Tarconi asked, concerned. Frank nodded, and Tarconi gently lifted his leg back onto the bed. They were shaking, barely noticeable if you weren’t there to feel them. Tarconi filed the information away with all the other tiny details he had recorded about Frank. The way he took his coffee, the kind of car wax he used, and exact amount of force needed when pulling his testicles to keep him on the edge of orgasm a few minutes longer. A police officer must be thorough in his observations.
He replaced his tongue with two fingers, using nothing but sweat and spit to ease the way. Frank always liked it rough at the beginning, being forced to take it. When Tarconi had his way he stretched Frank slowly, sometimes taking an hour just to play with him, twisting and probing with slick fingers while Frank writhed on the bed.
Tarconi pulled his fingers out, and Frank clenched instinctively at the loss. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool despite knowing what was coming. He squeezed his eyes shut when Tarconi pressed the lubed tip of the nightstick against him.
“Look at me,” Tarconi said. Frank managed to meet his eyes. “You can still say no.”
“I’m not backing down,” Frank said.
“Somehow, I knew you’d say that. Take a deep breath,” Tarconi ordered and Frank obeyed as Tarconi push it in, one long slide while Frank whined in the back of his throat. It was strange, hard and unforgiving, pressing deeper that anything he had felt before. He tensed up and Tarconi stopped, withdrawing a few inches. “Okay?”
Frank nodded, squeezing down a few times experimentally. It was okay, he could handle it. Tarconi pulled out and pressed in again, slow but relentless and Frank gasped. Yeah, he could get into this.
“You’re so attractive,” Tarconi told him, watching Frank’s face, looking for any wincing. Frank was the type to never complain, even when he wasn’t enjoying something. Seeing only pleasure, he smiled and kissed him the chest, right over his heart, before starting to drive in faster.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Frank chanted softly. Tarconi laughed and bit down on his left nipple, making Frank’s whole body jerk up. “Shit, that is cheating.”
Tarconi just laughed harder and twisted the nightstick, keeping Frank from finding a rhythm.
“Ask nicely,” Tarconi said.
“God, when did you get so mean?” If Frank had enough brain cells still functioning, he would have been getting annoyed at Tarconi laughing at him. “Seriously, just, please. Please.”
“See, the magic word,” Tarconi said, and immediately stopped teasing, using his free hand to guide Frank’s hips until he could keep himself steady. “Good, no?”
Frank just grunted in response. Tarconi took mercy on him and started to jerk his cock with his free hand, making Frank moan approvingly.
“Hurry up, my arm is getting tired,” Tarconi told Frank.
“Fucking Frenchmen,” Frank muttered, and Tarconi jabbed against his prostate particularly hard in retribution. At Frank’s gasp, he did it again, grinning as Frank’s eyes rolled back in his head as he came all over Tarconi’s fist. He tenderly pulled out and Frank collapsed against the bed.
“Always so messy with you,” Tarconi complained while wiping his hand on the sheet. Frank flipped him off, but it was hard to see with his hands still attached to the headboard.
“Keys,” Frank ordered.
“I don’t know,” Tarconi said, pressing his own erection to Frank’s hip. “I don’t think we’re done yet.”