by A. M. Arthur
“Look at you,” Avery said. “So beautiful.”
Colt hadn’t felt beautiful in a long damned time. Desired, sure, he felt that every time he walked into a nightclub. But not beautiful. Not since the stain of his friendly-fire shot. No matter how many times a conquest said Colt was beautiful, he hadn’t believed them.
He wanted to believe it when Avery said it.
His neck ached from the awkward position of his arms stretched out in front of him and his head twisted to the right, but he didn’t complain. Didn’t try to safeword. Avery would know when it was too much. He always knew.
Avery pushed in, nudging his way deeper, his cockhead pressing into Colt’s throat. Colt stilled, relaxed as best he could, as Avery’s pubes pressed against his nose. Avery held still, deep inside. Colt swallowed reflexively, and Avery moaned. He pulled back far enough that Colt caught the taste of his semen as he climaxed, filling Colt’s mouth with his essence.
A flash of disappointment fizzled under Avery’s dazed, red-cheeked face. Avery squatted to wipe at Colt’s cheeks, then kiss him soundly, licking into his mouth nearly as fiercely as he’d thrust moments earlier. Colt longed to touch Avery, to hold him some way, but the ropes kept him still. Under Avery’s control.
With glittering eyes, Avery kissed his nose and both cheeks, then said, “Now I’m going to unpack.”
Colt squawked.
“Don’t worry.” Avery tapped the base of the plug, and Colt whimpered at the stimulation. “You’ll get to come soon. We can’t stay holed up in here forever today, or people are going to talk.”
“Let them.” Colt didn’t care anymore who knew about them.
“No. We both work for the Garretts, and we have a professional attitude to maintain. We’re Sir and pet in here only. Hands off outside this cabin.”
“What about the barn?”
Avery shook his head, even though he had to be remembering the awesomeness of fucking Colt while bent over a saddle. “Too risky. Last night was risky.”
“I told you I was tested—”
“I don’t mean not using a condom. I believe you about that. I meant the room had a window. Someone still could have seen.”
Tied up with a butt plug in his ass probably wasn’t the best position for this conversation, but here they were. “No one saw. It was the best sex I’ve had in my life, Avery. It wasn’t a mistake.”
“I didn’t say it was a mistake.” With a heavy sigh, Avery reached for the ropes attached to the bedpost.
“What are you doing?” Colt asked.
“Ending the scene.”
“I’m not ready to end it. I miss wearing your ropes.”
Avery paused with the rope uncoiled from the post, his expression wary. “You seemed angry a few seconds ago, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not angry, I promise. Frustrated, I guess, that you don’t want to be open about us.”
“We don’t even know what us is, Colt. Right now, we’re practicing BDSM in private, not dating, and unless or until that changes, I’d rather not be scrutinized by others. Or gossiped about.”
“You’re living with the biggest flirt on the ranch. People will gossip.”
Avery pinched his ass. “About this, you jerk.” He shook his end of the rope. “Something like this is easy to keep private in a city the size of Los Angeles, but we’re on a ranch with what? Twenty-odd employees, not counting guests?”
“Okay, I hear what you’re saying. I do.” Colt tried to see things more from Avery’s perspective. Avery was an intensely private person who tried to keep his role as a Dom separate from his personal life—until Colt obliterated those walls. Colt, on the other hand, had a smile and hug for everyone, and he was confident enough not to mind idle gossip. If privacy was what Avery needed, Colt would give it to him.
Anything to keep Sir in his life.
“We’ll keep this between us, I promise,” Colt said. “Sir.”
Avery shivered. “On the bed. You deserve an orgasm before we’re done.”
Oh thank God.
With a little help, Colt stood and crawled onto Avery’s bed, then sprawled onto his back. Avery pushed his bound hands above his head, but didn’t retie him to the headboard. He shoved Colt’s legs apart and stuffed a pillow under his lower back to tilt his ass higher into the air. Colt tried to regulate his breathing.
The plug shifted under Avery’s guidance, and Colt yelped as it applied pressure to his prostate. Over and over, those small nudges combined to drive Colt insane. Precome slicked the tip of his cock, which Avery was not touching. All he did was play with that damned plug and watch Colt with a smug smile Colt wanted to kiss away. He wasn’t used to being this controlled during sex, this submissive. It had been years, but it felt right with Avery. Avery would help him fly, but he’d never let Colt fall.
Avery grasped the base of Colt’s cock and jerked him a few times, while still applying pressure with the plug. Colt chased his orgasm, which winked just out of reach.
So close, so close, so close.
“Close,” Colt panted. “Fuck.”
“Come on, pet. Come for me.” Then Avery bent at the waist and did something he rarely did: sucked the tip of Colt’s cock into his mouth. And that was it.
“Fuck!” Colt bucked into the wet heat, pleasure rocketing down his spine and out his dick. Avery sucked him through it, swallowing the load. Even when their relationship turned sexual, Avery had balked at giving head, and Colt hadn’t pushed. Avery had only volunteered to blow him a handful of times prior to now.
Avery gazed up the length of his body with a shy smile, lips glistening. “Come up here,” Colt said, his voice raspy with emotion.
He did, first removing the pillow, and then draping his damp body over Colt’s, settling in the vee of his spread legs. Colt brought his bound arms down and hugged Avery as best he could, angling for a kiss. Avery thrust his tongue into Colt’s mouth, bringing with him the faint taste of Colt’s release. Their spent tackle rubbed together, Colt’s making a valiant effort to regroup, with the plug still applying pressure to his gland.
The kiss turned into a long, skin-to-skin hug, and Colt held on. Needing this closeness, needing Avery in his arms exactly like this, even if Colt couldn’t touch the way he wanted. He wore Sir’s ropes, and that made it the perfect hug.
“For all I’ve missed you fucking me,” Colt whispered, the moment too fragile for loud words, “I’ve missed this the most. Holding you.”
“Same, pet.” Avery kissed the side of his jaw, then settled his head in the crook of Colt’s neck. Warm breath teased over Colt’s damp skin. “We should get cleaned up. Make a public appearance.”
“Are you going to make me go out there wearing this thing?” Colt wiggled his butt, then gasped.
“Tempting idea.”
Colt squirmed, unsure if he liked the idea, or was terrified by it.
“Another time,” Avery said. “One where you’re unlikely for someone to ask you to get up onto a horse.”
“Fuck.” The mental image of going horseback riding while wearing a plug did crazy shit to his insides. “I don’t think my ass could handle more than a slow walk like that.”
“Hmm.”
Colt squeezed what he could reach of Avery’s ass. “Come on, let’s get me untied and cleaned up. The shower is kind of small to share, but if you don’t mind bumping elbows…”
“We can take turns.” Avery sat up, reluctance shining in his dark eyes. “Thank you for today.”
“Thank you for today. And last night. And for every future scene you’re already dreaming up.”
Avery’s smile flickered. “You’re welcome.”
They disentangled themselves. Avery removed the plug first, going slow and being extra careful with Colt’s post-orgasm, sensitive hole. It hurt a little, and Colt swal
lowed a yelp when the widest part slipped out. Avery kissed both cheeks before turning him around to deal with the ropes. Inch by inch, those lovely knots disappeared, leaving red, welted skin behind. He massaged Colt’s wrists for a few minutes, helping the blood flow return to normal. Colt’s skin tingled in a familiar way he’d missed.
Avery showered first, so Colt could rest a while longer. His entire world had shifted again in less than twenty-four hours. Shifted toward something new, yet familiar. Exciting and still somehow terrifying. For years, Colt had told himself he didn’t need intimacy, only needed sex and his friends to sustain him.
I was so fucking wrong it burns.
He needed Avery; he had Avery. And Colt would do anything necessary to keep him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
…Avery can’t remember the last time he was so nervous over a first scene with a new client. Not for at least three years, when he signed with his first female client. He remembers being nervous simply because she was a woman, but Jennifer was a dream and is still a client of his. They see each other every few months, and she’s a huge fan of his riding crop.
No, he needs to focus on Colt, who will be ringing the bell any moment. After hearing Colt’s tale of being abused by his last Dom, Avery spent the last week working through his own emotions over it. His instant anger at Sebastian, followed by the drive to find the man and hurt him on Colt’s behalf. He still doesn’t understand those reactions. He’s never been this protective of a client before, and he cannot allow it to affect his judgment in a scene. He needs to be careful. Go slowly and really listen to his sub.
After a traumatic experience, Colt needs patience and care—even if that patience and care includes bondage.
The doorbell’s ring nearly sends Avery out of his skin. He brushes nonexistent lint off the front of his simple blue T-shirt and jeans. Unlike many Doms he knows, he doesn’t do the whole leather harness and chaps thing. His sessions are not sexual in nature, and he’s not terribly fond of wearing leather when he sweats. And with some of his clients, he breaks out in a sweat.
Fixing on a calm smile, Avery answers the apartment door. Colt grins at him from the stoop, his arms loose by his sides, but his twitching fingers give away his nerves. “Hello, Colt, please come in.”
“Hey, thank you.” Colt enters the small foyer and walks directly into the open kitchen/dining area. “So you really do have your own space for this?”
“I do.” Avery’s proud of the fact that he earns enough from teaching, his research grants, and as a paid Dom to afford two apartments—even if one is rent controlled. Ever since his first client turned into a possessive stalker, he’s managed to keep his actual home a secret from his clients. Even if said home is right across the hall in the next apartment.
“Dude, this is Los Angeles,” Colt says. “I can barely afford the studio I rent.”
Since discussing finances is something friends do, Avery decides to get started. “Are you ready to begin our first scene, Colt?”
“I am.”
“Excellent. Remove all clothing except for the briefs I instructed you to wear.”
Colt yanks his T-shirt off and casts about for a place to put it. He starts to simply drop it on one of the kitchen chairs.
“Stop,” Avery barks. Colt freezes. “You will not simply strip and toss clothes about this apartment. Fold them and place them neatly on the table.”
“Sorry.” Colt’s cheeks stain pink as he carefully folds the T-shirt, fumbling a bit, probably unused to folding clothes this neatly. He bends to unlace his sneakers, giving Avery a perfect view of his taut ass—an ass that will be as red as Colt’s face very shortly. Colt stuffs his socks into his shoes, and then unbuckles his belt. Folding his jeans is as awkward as his shirt, but he finally manages.
Avery tries not to stare, because Colt is beautiful. Swaths of tanned skin, perfectly toned muscles on his arms and legs, a six-pack and defined obliques. His clients have all kinds of body types, but something about Colt’s tan perfection speaks to Avery on another level he isn’t sure how to deal with.
Scene first, strange new feelings later.
“I know we discussed this last week,” Avery says, “but as a reminder, once the scene begins, I am Sir at all times. You do only what I tell you to do, and you don’t speak unless I ask you a direct question. If you need things to slow down, say yellow. If you need me to stop, say red.”
“Yes, Sir,” Colt replies. “I remember.”
“Good. I know you’re used to sex being tied into your scenes, but that is not the case with me. But if you do become aroused, don’t be embarrassed. I’m used to it, and it won’t make me stop, unless you say red.”
Colt nods, serious now. “Yes, Sir.”
“Then let’s go.” Avery strides past Colt to his playroom. Opens the door and flips on the switch. Several different floor lamps light up around the room, giving it more ambiance than a single overhead light. He likes the softness of it, and it often puts first-timers at ease when they see the equipment.
A standard spanking bench, a St. Andrew’s Cross, ceiling and floor restraints, and his wardrobe of whips, paddles, cuffs, ropes, and gags. Colt gazes around the room a beat before sinking directly to his knees next to Avery.
For someone who says he’s only played around, he acts like he’s had training.
“Good boy,” Avery says.
Colt beams up at him, as if he’s been waiting for the smallest praise, despite the scene just now beginning. Avery shuts the door, and the snick sound mentally starts the scene for him. He’s now Sir, and it’s his job to get his sub into subspace so he can fly.
First, his sub needs to understand proper positioning. He can kneel, but Avery expects a specific kneel. “Spread your knees apart farther.” Avery nudges with his bare foot until Colt’s knees are spread exactly right. “Now straighten up, put your shoulders back. Hands behind your back. Clasp your left wrist with your right hand. Head up. Look straight ahead, not down.”
He walks a slow circle around Colt. “When you enter this room, this is how I want you to kneel. Understand? You may answer.”
“Yes, Sir,” Colt replies, a bit breathless already. He does enjoy being ordered around, it seems.
“On the bench.”
Colt rises in a fluid motion and positions himself on the bench. Avery follows. His bench is a simple, handmade gift from Violet, with a leather-padded step for kneeling on, and a larger, higher square surface, also leather padded, for the sub to lay his or her chest against. Colt drapes himself over it, the top pad almost too small for his broad chest. There are heavy wood slabs on the side to hold on to, as well as iron rings for various other wrist and ankle restraints.
He seems uncertain how to position his arms, so Avery says, “Hold on to the heavy wooden sides and do not let go.”
The position puts his elbows at sharp angles, pointing backward, and only highlights how muscular his arms are. His back, too. Avery’s going to enjoy marking up that large swath of sun-kissed skin.
Avery opens his wardrobe and removes his softest flogger. Firm handle for him, and lots of soft, pliable leather tails that are mostly for sensation, not marking. “All you’re allowed to do in this room is to listen to me and to your body. Let yourself feel what you feel. Let go, Colt. All right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m not going to restrain you today, but you are not to let go of the sides of the bench.”
“I won’t, Sir.”
“Good.” Avery approaches from behind, careful not to admire Colt’s backside too much. He trails the ends of the flogger across Colt’s back, pleased by the goose bumps that break out on his shoulders and neck. “There’s anticipation, isn’t there? Will I go soft? Will I strike without warning? Do you enjoy that anticipation?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Avery drags the ends a while longer, tr
acing whorls and figure eights on Colt’s skin. Then with a snap of his wrist, the flogger strikes Colt’s shoulder with enough force to sting, but not mark. Colt gasps, but doesn’t tense up like some subs. He relaxes. And in some ways, today is a test for Colt. Avery has to be certain his sub needs the sensation, not sexual intimacy, in order to truly benefit from their sessions. Colt is definitely showing signs of needing the sensations if a first strike relaxes him.
Pleased, Avery strikes him again. And again. And again…
* * *
Still buzzing from the high of their scene, Avery unpacked once he’d showered and dressed—same clothes as before, because the last thing he wanted was gossip. Colt had multiples of the same work polo, the lucky bastard. Avery’s own shirt wasn’t dirty, exactly, but it smelled a bit like Colt and that was distracting.
He’d used his time in the shower to work out his thoughts over the scene they’d completed, and his conflicted feelings over something Colt had said. Colt thanked him for any future scenes he was dreaming up, and it made Avery doubt. Colt had been clear he’d missed the D/s aspect of their relationship, and Avery couldn’t help wonder how much Colt wanted the Avery Hendrix aspect of it. The personal side, leaving the D/s stuff out.
He wanted to believe Colt truly wanted the whole package, but what if Colt only wanted a Dom and not a lover?
The shower hadn’t given him any real answers, so he pushed the thoughts aside for now.
They left the cabin together, and Avery immediately noticed the crowd of people near the corral. “New guests are meeting their horses for the week,” Colt said. “Come on, let’s watch.”
“This is somehow entertaining?” Avery asked as he followed Colt up the worn path past the main house. It split, one track heading toward the barn and the other the guesthouse. Colt cut straight ahead.
