Room at the Edge

by Jane Davitt

  Jay leaned forward, his hair brushing Austin’s stomach, his hands planted on either side of Austin’s hips, and placed a kiss not on Austin’s cock, but Liam’s. The light, deferential kiss spoke to the Dom in Liam. He wanted to wrap his hand painfully tight in Jay’s hair and hold him still, take his mouth with deep, slow thrusts until Jay was choking on Liam’s cock, breathless, at his mercy. Jay gave him an appealing glance from under his lashes. “Before you go inside him? May I? Please, Sir?”

  Saying no would have taken up an ounce of the control Liam planned to have another use for. He nodded and threaded his fingers through Jay’s hair as Jay’s lips took him in, soft and wet over the head of his prick and then firmer, with suction, along his shaft. Christ. Liam let himself tug Jay’s hair until he knew it had to hurt, although Jay’s response to the pain was the expected moan of pleasure. “Good boy,” he said, and Jay moaned again, taking him deeper.

  It would have been amazing to continue, to come in Jay’s willing mouth, but if there was a chance of Liam actually being able to fuck both of them, he couldn’t come now. Instead he reluctantly pulled Jay’s head back and ran a rough thumb over Jay’s lower lip after releasing him.

  Jay licked his lip, a slow swipe of his tongue covering every place Liam’s thumb had caressed.

  “Well?” Liam raised his eyebrows.

  Graceful, strong, his cock bobbing, untouched, inches from Austin’s resolutely closed mouth, Jay murmured a thank-you.

  Liam pushed Austin’s knee back, his finger still captured inside the clinging heat of Austin’s hole. He crooked it, searching Austin’s face for a reaction, smiling when he got one. “Think you can make Jay happy while he’s doing the same for you?”

  The logistics would be hellishly difficult to sustain, but Liam had faith in them.

  “Yes, Sir. I’ll try.”

  Liam applied more lube to himself and Austin—they told him he used too much, but as far as he was concerned more was better—and replaced his finger with his cock, enjoying Austin’s throat-caught moan as his arse was filled.

  “Don’t bite him.”

  “Who, me?” Jay licked a wet line along the shaft of Austin’s cock and snapped his teeth a bare inch away from the head, making Austin jerk with shock, then give an indignant hiss.

  Liam lunged forward, going deeply into Austin and getting close enough to lean in and slap Jay’s backside satisfyingly hard. “For that you get to come last.”

  He could see the imprint of his hand on Jay’s skin as he fucked Austin, could hear the luscious, liquid sounds their mouths made as they sucked each other; the harsh, raw groans when they had to pause or risk breaking his rules, because he came first, always.

  They knew that.

  And tonight he was in no rush.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Worst day ever.

  Okay, so that was an exaggeration, but Jay wasn’t ready to admit it.

  Things were actually okay; it was almost Christmas, and living with Liam had turned out better than Jay had expected even while they were still getting used to it. But he’d had to stand in Liam’s driveway and watch as Austin drove away, knowing Austin wouldn’t be home that night, and it was a shitty feeling. Even Liam’s promise that he’d provide an evening’s distraction seemed like small consolation.

  Jay sighed and flipped the book he’d been not-reading to the back where the library’s due date card was and plucked it from its pocket, then used it as a bookmark. Maybe he’d go down and work on Liam’s Christmas present for a little while. There wasn’t a lot left to do—mostly fine details to finish up, and it would be nice to focus on something other than missing Austin.

  “Bad book?” Liam asked from the other couch.

  “No such thing,” Jay said. “I guess I’m not in a reading mood. Is it cool if I go downstairs and do some work? I’m trying to finish up a thing before Christmas.”

  “Of course. Maybe tonight we can go out for dinner? We’d talked about the new Thai place.” Liam wasn’t looking up from his magazine.

  “Austin really wanted to go there.”

  “Well, there’s no harm in us checking it out first, is there?”

  The note of impatience in the words made Jay wonder if Liam was missing Austin too, even though Liam disappeared on business trips fairly often. Maybe he was discovering it was different when you were the one left at home.

  “No, I guess not.” Jay stood where he was, fidgeting, aware of a barrier between them. This was Liam. His partner, his Dom. Why couldn’t he go over to him and ask for a hug or, hell, a spanking, something to lessen his depression?

  Because Liam wasn’t paying him any attention, that was why. Jay turned on his heel and left the room, not quite slamming the basement door but definitely closing it firmly.

  The space downstairs felt echoingly empty, but once he’d settled down to work, he found himself relaxing. Accustomed to long, solitary hours building his dioramas, he could—almost—fool himself that Austin was upstairs, chatting with Liam or curled up on the couch watching TV.

  He’d come so close to completing the dungeon scene after two hours that he was really motivated to continue. He had a list of tasks in his head, checking them off one by one. If he kept at it for another thirty minutes, it would be ready to box up.

  He picked up the two figurines representing himself and Austin and made them kiss, rolling his eyes at his whimsy but grinning too. God, Liam would love this. Wouldn’t he? Jay touched the figurine of the Dom with the tip of his finger. Sternly handsome, dressed in leather and boots, he wasn’t much like Liam as far as wardrobe went, but hey, maybe Liam would take the hint. The suits he wore were hot in their own way. Liam slipping out of his jacket and tie, then rolling up his shirtsleeves neatly before picking up a flogger could make Jay’s mouth go dry with lust, but he’d cream his fucking pants if Liam ever wore leather boots.

  Intent on his work, he didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs until Liam called his name.

  Startled, panicked, he leaped to his feet, knocking over a tiny pot of silver paint. “Shit! Don’t come down here!”

  “Jay?”

  He grabbed a piece of rag and halted the trickle of paint just before it reached the base of the diorama. “I’m okay. I’m just working on something.” Jolted out of his creative fog, upset that Liam had come close to ruining his surprise, he snapped out a terse, “Aren’t you supposed to knock?”

  Liam’s footsteps had stopped. He must be waiting on the stairs, standing there halfway between the space that was theirs and the space that was supposed to be for Jay and Austin, damn it. Jay was angry. He didn’t like being interrupted, and he didn’t want to feel like his space wasn’t really his. “Excuse me?” Liam said finally.

  “I thought you were supposed to knock.” Jay knew he was crossing the line by complaining, so he tried to make his voice calmer. “Just give me a minute to get this covered up. Please.”

  “I’m waiting.” Liam sounded formal; that couldn’t mean anything good.

  “Thank you.” Quickly Jay draped the sheet he’d been using to both hide the diorama and keep it protected from dust over the top, then moved to the foot of the stairs and looked up at Liam. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t hear you coming, and I was startled. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  Liam frowned. “I’d almost think you’d been practicing.”

  “Sir?”

  “It was a very nice apology. I’m not sure it’s sufficient, considering, although to be fair I am supposed to knock.”

  “You shouldn’t have to.” The admission wasn’t difficult to make, not when he knew it was true. “We don’t knock on the other side of the door to ask if we can come upstairs. If this is our house now, not just yours—”

  “Our home,” Liam corrected, adding, “There’s a difference.”

  “Yeah. Well, if it is, then there shouldn’t be knock zones. I’ll talk to Austin about it when he comes back.”

  That made Jay remember that Austin was
n’t coming back tonight, at least, and the resultant pang stung like lemon juice in a paper cut.

  “You’re not dealing very well with him being away, are you?” Liam asked dispassionately.

  Jay ran his hand over the banister, the wood smooth and warm against his palm. No chance of splinters, not in this house. “It doesn’t happen very often. The last time was when I went to visit my parents, maybe a year ago, and it was hell for both of us. I don’t like the idea of him seeing April or driving north at this time of year.” He ran out of reasons to fret and finished with a shrug.

  Liam leaned against the wall, the light behind him leaving his face shadowed. “He texted me from a gas station a few minutes ago. He’s making good time. The roads are busy but clear of snow, and he sends his love.”

  “He texted you, not me?” Jay couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice, or the hurt. “Did you tell him he couldn’t talk to me or something?”

  “No, it was to both of us, so I imagine if you check your phone, you’ll see it there.” Liam was being so patient with him that Jay almost wanted to push harder, just to break down the forbearance and get to the Dom.

  He tugged his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, needing to see Austin’s text for himself, and discovered the battery was dead. “Oh.”

  “Mm.” Liam turned to leave. “You’d better plug it in. Don’t reply until you know he’s arrived, though. I don’t approve of driving and texting.”

  Jay followed Liam up the stairs, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “Austin wouldn’t do that. He says it’s just asking for something bad to happen.”

  Liam waited for Jay to come through the door and close it behind him, then raised his eyebrows. “Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

  A tingle, half apprehension, half anticipation, went through him, sharpening his senses. Oh God, he was alone with Liam. They’d talked about solo sessions, without the opportunity arising. The problem was what the odd man out did while the other two were together. It just felt too awkward to plan and execute.

  But now…

  “Sir?” he asked through dry lips.

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing a lot of these days? Waiting for something bad to happen?”

  Liam pushed him against the wall, capturing Jay’s wrists in his hands and pinning them to the wall above Jay’s head. His breath left him in a gasp, the tingle upgraded to a full-on electrical shock.

  “It’s not going to,” Liam said into his ear, following it up with a bite to his earlobe that left it throbbing. “You’re safe here with me. I promise you that. But our definition of safe isn’t quite like other people’s, is it?”

  There were words Liam expected to hear, but Jay couldn’t force them out. He tried to say “Sir,” and it emerged as a throat-caught whine, pitiful, imploring. His heart was thudding wildly, his cock rigid, a rush of blood stiffening it so quickly he was left dizzy, lost.

  Liam liked to plan sessions, and for all he knew, Liam had been dreaming this up for the last few hours, but it didn’t feel structured and neat. It felt raw and dark, an assault on his senses, a challenge thrown out. He wasn’t scared, but he was still shaking. The things Liam had said he wanted to do to Jay in the past if there was nothing to hold him back… How much had been designed to arouse and tease him, no more than erotic fantasies, and if they were stripped away, what did that leave?

  “We’ve got all night and all day tomorrow,” Liam told him, his fingers cruelly tight around Jay’s wrists, bruising him, marking him. God, he loved the small, purple ovals pressed into his skin by Liam’s fingers, hated covering them with the wide leather bracelets he wore to work. Liam sucked at Jay’s neck, pulling the skin tight and hot, lapping at it until it was wet with saliva.

  He drew back to stare into Jay’s eyes from a distance of an inch or two, his face filling Jay’s vision, his breath hot against Jay’s face. “You’re mine. I’m going to play with you until I break you. Until you trust me. Until I’ve taken every tear, every whimper, every drop of sweat and cum. Mine. Say it. Make me believe you.”

  Jay inhaled sharply, the wall hard against his back and Liam impossibly unbending in front of him. Liam could do, would do anything, and Jay would let him. Liam could whip him bloody, fuck him raw, and somehow Jay wouldn’t protest or complain. He’d love it. He’d love Liam for being the man who could do it to him.

  “I’m yours,” Jay whispered, unable to look away from Liam’s eyes. “Yours, Sir.”

  Liam leaned in another inch and bit Jay’s lower lip until he squirmed with the sharp, exquisite pain of it. “Convincing.” Liam’s voice was almost a growl. “Now see if you can be as convincing with your actions as you are with your words.” His hand ran down Jay’s side and slid between them; he squeezed Jay’s cock hard enough to make him gasp. “Go shower. Don’t touch yourself while you do. I’ll be waiting for you, so don’t dawdle.”

  Jay was so aroused it was difficult to force his body to obey him, but somehow when Liam released him, he managed to stumble upstairs to the shower. He wanted to let his clothes lie where they fell as he removed them but made himself fold them and set them neatly on the counter. His hands shook as he reached for the soap.

  Liam hadn’t told him what he had planned. Not knowing what to expect made Jay even more turned on than he already was. Was Liam going to take advantage of Austin being gone to make this really intense? A shudder ran through Jay, and he had to clench his fists to resist the urge to touch his cock.

  When he came out of the shower, he wasn’t fully hard, but he knew that one look, one word from Liam would change that. He dried off, carefully avoiding his groin so that when he walked into the bedroom, the towel in his hand, drops of water clung to his cock and the dark hair around it.

  Liam was standing by the bed, giving one of Jay’s shirts a critical appraisal. On the bed he’d put out fresh pants, socks, and shorts for Jay, for some reason. “This needs ironing.”

  “You want me to get dressed?” Jay blurted out. “Why?”

  Liam beckoned him over without answering, giving him the same frowning attention that the shirt had received. Jay held still under that gaze, wondering why it was so hot to be examined like this, to be on display, be judged. He stood straight and kept his eyes lowered, watching his cock perk up again.

  After drawing his finger along Jay’s jaw, Liam clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You need to shave. Do that; then iron this shirt. I don’t want to see a single crease.” He moved his hand down to Jay’s erection, brushing the damp hair around it. “You’re wet, I see. Good boy. We can’t have you walking around like that, though.” He took the towel from Jay and tossed the shirt on the bed. “Don’t move. Don’t speak.”

  Jay bit his lip as Liam dried him off with the towel. It should have taken a few seconds, no more, but Liam turned it into a form of torture, using the edge of the towel to saw across the exposed glans, chafing it until it burned red, cupping and squeezing Jay’s balls painfully tight. Liam smiled as Jay’s teeth dug deeper into his lip, and slid the towel between Jay’s thighs in an intimate, invasive caress. Jay wanted to spread his legs wider, weak with lust, but as he did, Liam withdrew his hand. “That’s better. Off you go.”

  Jay picked up his shirt, a heavy cotton in the dark green Austin loved on him. “Sir, are we going out or something?”

  “When you ask questions, it’s a sign that you don’t trust me,” Liam told him. “That you’re not submitting to me the way I want you to. That’s not acceptable. I will punish you for hesitating to obey me and for asking trivial questions. Tonight you do as you’re told, no more, no less. You ask permission for any action you take. Don’t assume you can decide anything for yourself. Not tonight. Tonight you’re mine, remember?”

  “Yes,” Jay said, feeling his cheeks flush with shame. “Yes, Sir. I’ll do whatever you say.”

  He went to shave, breathing slowly and carefully so he wouldn’t nick himself. Any blood drawn tonight should be at Liam’s
hand, not his. He didn’t own himself. He belonged to Liam. The look in his eyes when he gazed at his reflection was uncertain, glassy, like he was coming down with something, but Jay knew better.

  It took longer to iron his shirt than it should have. He didn’t iron often—most of his shirts were the kind that were supposed to be wrinkle-free, which was a lie but good enough for his job, where the dress code required he wear a shirt with a collar but no tie or jacket. He was supposed to be professional but approachable so that library patrons would be comfortable asking him questions.

  Questions. Which he wasn’t asking any more of tonight, even if it meant he had to double-check every sentence that left his lips.

  He stood there passing the iron over the dark green fabric again and again while Liam watched. He figured Liam would tell him when he’d done a respectable job, and the third time Jay lifted the shirt from the ironing board to look at it, Liam nodded. “Good. Come here.”

  Jay went to the bed, where Liam had been sitting and watching him. Liam took the shirt, stood, and slipped it onto him, Jay moving his arms to help, in a daze of confusion and aching with arousal to the point where his cock, wet tipped, left a darker spot on the front of his shirt when Liam had finished buttoning it.

  Liam glanced down at it, smiled faintly, and reached under the shirt to fondle Jay’s balls, handling them as casually as he would his own. Jay clenched his hands, channeling his desire into making them form tight fists, his breath catching in a dry throat.

  With a final tweak to a cuff, Liam stepped back. “Finish dressing. I’m getting hungry.”

  Not asking where they were going took an effort, but when they pulled up at the Thai restaurant fifteen minutes later, after a largely silent drive, it didn’t surprise Jay. Where else would Liam take him?

  He began to get out of the car once Liam had turned off the engine, but was halted with a word. “Did I give you permission to leave the car?”