“Now how do you feel?”
“It burns and stings, sir.”
Evan squatted in front of him. “Not here.” He ran his hands down Jonah’s tingling skin, then reached for his hair. “In here.” Cradling Jonah’s head, Evan pulled him forward enough to kiss him slow and deep.
Jonah’s breath was fast again. “Feel small, like I could crawl inside you, but big too, like all of you would fit inside me.
“Do you like it, babe? Like what we’re making?”
“Yes, sir.” Jonah did, even if the big-small feeling that moved with his breath had him scared. Evan knew what he was doing.
Evan stood between Jonah’s spread knees, boots close enough to remind Jonah of all the places on his thighs that still tingled. The suede tails snapped across Jonah’s shoulders. Not as light as the touch Evan had first used on Jonah’s thighs, but not hard enough to really hurt. More like the way his skin prickled after a haircut with what always managed to get trapped in his shirt.
“I’m going to make your skin red now, Jonah. Stay still.”
“Yes, sir.”
Evan moved behind him, and the tails slithered against each other, whispering in the air before they splattered against Jonah’s back. Again and again, like before, too fast to process the pain, and it did hurt.
Evan stopped. “Breathe, babe.”
Jonah took a couple of deep breaths. His back felt like it had been stung dozens of times too, but there was a warmth he liked, like the warmth of a stifling hot car after being too long in air conditioning. He flexed his shoulders, then froze, remembering that Evan had told him to keep still.
“Bend forward over your knees now. Stretch your arms out in front of you.”
Feeling only half in his body, Jonah pushed himself forward like a cat having a stretch.
The stinging tails went everywhere this time, his arms, his shoulders, a few sharp snaps against his pits as the ends wrapped around to reach into hidden places. Those strokes made him jump, but not as much as when one of the tails caught his nipple.
He remembered he didn’t have to be quiet and let out a moan.
The strands were slow and soft as a kiss as they moved down his spine, swishing against his obliques.
Then they were leaving peppery bites up and down his ass, even in the crack, until Jonah wasn’t sure if he wanted the little burns to stop or keep raining down on his skin forever.
The soft suede traveled gently up his spine again, tickling his neck and shoulders. “You look hot like that.”
Was he supposed to say thank you? It was too fraternity house. Thank you, sir, may I have another?
“Stand up, use me if you need to.”
Jonah’s legs hadn’t fallen asleep, but they tingled a little as he climbed to his feet and he was happy to have Evan’s support.
Evan ran his hands over Jonah’s back, stroking and soothing. “So good. You took that so good for me. How do you feel?”
Jonah hadn’t been sure until just then, but as Evan spoke, he felt that warmth spreading through him, low and sweet. Evan pulled Jonah close so his back was against Evan’s chest, his soft cotton henley prickly on Jonah’s sensitive skin. “Nice.”
“I can tell.” Evan’s hands slid down Jonah’s arms, brushing lightly over the cuffs and down to his dick. “Feel what you’re doing to me? Because you’re being so sweet and good.” He pressed his hips into Jonah’s ass, and the solid length of his erection was obvious through the denim.
Jonah shuddered and rubbed his hips back against Evan’s dick.
“All right to stand on your own now?” Evan asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then come sit on the bed.”
Jonah loved this floating feeling, like he was anchored to the world by only the strength of Evan’s words and his touch—and the steady pulse of blood filling Jonah’s shaft.
Evan took off his shirt and stood in front of him. “Pay attention. In a real D/s relationship, there are consequences.”
“I want this to be real, Ev—sir, I do.” But the consequences thing didn’t sound like much fun. And Jonah had been doing everything Evan asked.
“Remember when I said you were bratting.”
“Yes, sir. I stopped.”
“Rolling your eyes is still being a brat.”
That had been when Jonah was still getting into things, and he’d hoped Evan hadn’t seen that.
Jonah looked down.
“Did I warn you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So is a consequence fair?”
Jonah opened his mouth to say C’mon, Evan, but what came out was “Yes, sir,” because it wasn’t only about Jonah and Evan anymore. It was the dominance and control Jonah had been asking for, fantasizing about when he jerked off to porn. Jonah knew he still had a choice, but he didn’t want one. Now instead of wondering whether Evan could be enough, Jonah wondered if he could measure up.
“Come over to the desk and bend over it.”
The desk, where that paddle was. As much as Jonah had liked the snap and heat through denim, he wasn’t too sure about it on bare skin.
“Hurry up, or you’ll miss your birthday,” Evan stood bared to the waist, hands on his hips.
His birthday? For the first time in his life Jonah had forgotten that it was New Year’s Eve.
Jonah stood next to the desk. The fear in his stomach wasn’t all bad. Like being at the top of a roller coaster, one about four hundred feet high. He’d agreed to get on the ride, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Evan unclipped the cuffs. “I want you to be able to hang on.” He pushed at Jonah’s back until his chest was flat on the cold glass surface of the desk. “Move your hips out so your dick is free.” Evan plastered himself across Jonah’s back, stretching his hands out to the edge of the desk. Some of the tension melted away. “This is because you acted like a brat and rolled your eyes. It’s punishment so it’s going to hurt, but I’m only going to use my hand and that doesn’t mean you can’t use your safe word. Don’t move or get up until I tell you.”
The tension came roaring back. What the hell had Jonah been thinking wanting this? It was crazy and scary and it made him horny as hell at the same time despite the fact that Evan wasn’t a leather daddy on a Harley but a guy who drove an Accord and didn’t own a leather jacket.
The first slap of skin burst on his ass.
“I’m waiting for an answer, Jonah.”
“Yes, sir,” he whispered, it but evidently it was enough.
The next few smacks weren’t as loud, but they covered a lot of ground, some of that very sensitive ground, like right under the curve of his cheeks and it seemed like the skin never had time to recover before Evan hit him again. This was nothing like the sweet sensation of the flogger. Now he knew when it hurt, it really hurt. It went right on past stinging and burning into an ache like a bruise deep under the skin, and though Jonah was grunting and an occasional ow slipped out, Evan didn’t show any signs of slowing down.
Jonah got it. Being a brat was bad. But he wasn’t sure if telling Evan that would make him spank him more. As much as Jonah’s ass hurt, he was pretty sure Evan could hit harder.
His erection had melted, and that blood flow swelled back into his ass, making the skin hotter and tighter for Evan to wale on.
Broccoli. Jonah put the word behind his teeth, held on and let the blows rock him against the desk.
As quickly as he had started, Evan stopped and his hand rubbed the skin he’d just made red-hot with pain.
“Are you okay?”
“It hurts.”
“I told you it would.” Evan leaned down and kissed Jonah’s neck. “Or it wouldn’t be a consequence.”
Jonah made up his mind to follow instructions carefully every time
he had these cuffs on.
Evan pulled him upright. “Go over to the window.”
Jonah looked down at his body. Granted, most of the people would be too preoccupied to look up into a forty-third story window but—
“You still have the cuffs on. Do you need another reminder?”
“No, sir.”
“You can put your ass up against the glass. I’m sure it will feel nice.” Evan walked over and switched off the lights.
It would be really hard for anyone to see him now.
“Put your ass on the window.”
“Yes, sir.” Jonah flinched as his cheeks made contact with the icy surface, but after a few minutes, it started to feel better and he wanted to move them to a new, cooler location.
“Stay right there.” Evan went on his knees and sucked Jonah hard again with about two good bobs and a swirl of tongue around the head. “Tell me when you get close but long before you come.”
It wasn’t going to take long. The idea that the man who had so completely owned him was now on his knees and groaning for him had Jonah’s knees shaking in a few minutes. He didn’t want to find out what would happen if he miscalculated and tapped a broad shoulder as soon as his balls started to get tight. Evan pulled off and dropped one last kiss on the head.
“Now turn around and watch what we came here for.” Evan gripped Jonah’s hips and spun him around.
“What time is it?”
“Quarter of, so it will have to be fast.”
“What?”
“I’m going to fuck you right here, in front of a million people, with the whole damned world watching. And you wearing my cuffs and your ass red from my hand. You’re going to come when the ball drops.”
Jonah thought he’d come right there. Nothing on his dick, nothing in his ass, but only from what Evan was whispering in that demanding voice.
“Yes, sir.”
The lube was cold, but everything felt cold next to Jonah’s ass. Evan slid his thumb into him and fucked him open. “Tell me when you think you’re ready.”
Jonah ground back against Evan’s knuckle. “Now.”
Evan wrapped an arm around Jonah’s hips and lined them up. “Don’t want to hurt you. Push back on me.”
Jonah wanted to go fast, wanted to get their bodies moving together as soon as he could, but his ass had other plans. He had to back off and try again.
“It’s okay, babe. Take it easy.” Evan ran his hand down Jonah’s flank.
This time it didn’t hurt at all as Jonah pushed until Evan sank in all the way, balls slapping against the sting on Jonah’s thighs, hips against his still nuclear-hot skin.
Evan wrapped his hand around Jonah’s cock, a tight sheath for him to rock into as they moved slowly together.
“Put your hands up higher so we can both see,” Evan said, slamming so deep on the next thrust that Jonah had a hard time keeping his footing.
He squeezed his muscles around Evan’s cock, earning a nice gasp in return.
“Think about it,” Evan said. “All those people down there, none of them know what we’re doing, how deep I’m in you. But those windows, the dark ones, there could be other people watching, or someone could look across, see you fucked open like this, your ass so sore but you keep wanting more, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Jonah’s voice shook so hard he could only manage one word.
The big red clock’s numbers ticked over to 11:57 p.m.
“Guess I better get moving.” Evan chuckled in his ear.
“Are. You. Close?” Jonah asked in time with Evan’s faster thrusts.
“Babe, I’ve been close since I buckled you into those cuffs. Thank you so much. God, Jonah, I love you.” Evan’s hips bucked him in tight jerks that rubbed across Jonah’s gland, knee-buckling pressure inside, tight friction on the head of his dick.
The volume of screams and cheers and horns in the street tripled. The clock flipped over to 11:59 p.m. “C’mon, c’mon,” Evan grunted in his ear.
The tension inside Jonah had coiled so tight he was afraid of what would happen when it let go, then he was afraid he couldn’t let it go, that he’d be forced to stay here, hanging, dizzy, with explosion of streamers and flashing lights making colors below him, and the aching need to fly over that edge making things burst into light inside him. He slammed into his release, bucking and shaking and twisting his body as Evan rode him through it. Rode him as they both collapsed onto the carpet in front of the window, panting and sticky and drained.
Maybe Jonah would never be able to say for sure if the flashing lights in his eyes were because he’d finally seen the ball drop in Times Square, or afterimages burned onto his retina from coming so hard he’d broken something in his head.
But the first kiss of the new year was sweet. And he was sure it was with the right guy, the one he wanted next to him on the couch for every New Year’s after this one.
“So, did you get everything you wanted this year?” Evan tucked his chin onto Jonah’s shoulder.
“I got a lot more. In fact, if you see Santa, you can tell him to cross me off for next year. I won’t be making any new lists.”
* * * * *
Can we tempt you with another story by K.A. Mitchell?
The Christmas Proposition
It’s Christmas in Epiphany, Pennsylvania—the busiest time of year for Mel Halner. But running the family Christmas tree farm has worn down his love for the happiest season of all, and lately Mel’s been wondering what if he’d said yes to a ticket out of town with millionaire Bryce Campion three years ago.
Bryce isn’t used to people saying no to him, and he can’t forget Mel or their brief but sizzling affair. He’s determined to make Mel see what he’s missed out on the first chance he gets.
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About the Author
K.A. Mitchell discovered the magic of writing at an early age when she learned that a carefully crayoned note of apology sent to the kitchen in a toy truck would earn her a reprieve from banishment to her room. Her career as a spin-control artist was cut short when her family moved to a two-story house, and her trucks would not roll safely down the stairs. Around the same time, she decided that Chip and Ken made a much cuter couple than Ken and Barbie and was perplexed when invitations to play Barbie dropped off. She never stopped making stuff up, though, and was surprised to find out that people would pay her to do it. Although the men in her stories usually carry more emotional baggage than even LAX can lose in a year, she guarantees they always find their sexy way to a happy ending.
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ISBN: 978-14268-9475-6
Copyright © 2012 by K.A. Mitchell
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permissi
on of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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