by Joy Demorra
Letting out another broken laugh, Vlad felt his cheeks warm despite himself. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It doesn’t have to be difficult.” Nathan grinned and gave a one-sided shrug. “I’d say it doesn’t have to be hard either, but I find people prefer it that way.”
Vlad groaned, shooting Nathan a glare he didn’t really feel.
“But for what it’s worth,” Nathan carried on more seriously, “you don’t have a beacon over your head, if that’s what you’re worried about. You just… pinged something familiar in me is all. Same coin, opposite sides.”
Vlad absorbed this admission, then looked down, shaking his head.
He’d always known this kind of thing existed; he’d wanted it before he even knew what it was. A longing deep at his core begged to be brought low and bend at the knees. But Blutsteins did not kneel, and they did not bend. It was his earliest memory, drilled into him since childhood. Blutsteins did not bend; they broke others. Even the risk of pursuing submission through one-off trysts had been too high.
So, Vlad had done what he always did and retreated into books. Living vicariously through lewd texts kept shoved between almanacs, their spines facing the wrong way around on the shelf. Elizabeth had known. “Your proclivity toward weakness,” she’d called it. Usually while sneering. But from the way Nathan was looking at him now—like Vlad had hung the moon and the stars—Vlad wondered if it wasn’t such a bad thing to want after all.
And one day, perhaps, if he was feeling brave, Vlad would be able to tell Nathan all of that. But for right now it was easier to say, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Nathan’s expression softened even further, his handsome features turning ruddy from the heat of the fire that barely touched the cold ache in Vlad’s bones. “No one does, sweetheart.”
Something giddy clenched in Vlad’s chest. Sweetheart, he thought. When was the last time he’d been anyone’s sweetheart? Not in this lifetime. “You do,” he countered.
Nathan inclined his head. “I guess you could say I know my way around the ropes.” He smiled, a slow, sly smile, and Vlad’s head whirled trying to process the implications of that sentence. “But—” Nathan shrugged, scratching lazily at the stubble under his chin “—I’ve also been around a fair bit.”
“Not as long as me!”
Nathan chuckled. “True. But I got lucky. I met people early on who were into the same things I was. They taught me how to do it safely. I learned the rest of what I liked on my own.”
“And what do you like?”
“That’s easy.” Nathan adjusted his weight, leaning back more comfortably against the bed until he slouched against one of the posts. “I like what my partners like.”
Vlad wrinkled his nose. “That’s cheating.”
“Maybe,” Nathan conceded, sounding amused. “But it’s true. I enjoy giving people what they need. They get off on what I’m doing, and I get off on them getting off.”
“But what do you like?” Vlad persisted, the twist of nerves in the pit of his stomach tangling up into knots when Nathan’s gaze landed on him.
“I enjoy taking care of people. I enjoy making them feel good and getting them to a place where they can let go. The afterglow is probably my favorite part. But…” He tipped his head to the side, a smirk tugging at the line of his mouth. “It’s also fun to drag it out for as long as possible. I like the sounds people make when they’re hot and desperate.” Piercing blue eyes flickered up to meet Vlad’s. They pinned him in place like a physical weight. “And needy.”
Vlad swallowed. “Oh.”
“What about you?” Nathan asked. “What do you like?”
“I already told you; I don’t know.”
“But you like the idea of being submissive?”
Vlad nodded hesitantly.
“How do you know?”
Vlad mumbled a reply.
Nathan tapped the side of his ear theatrically. “I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up.”
“Read about it,” Vlad said louder. He buried his face in a handy nearby cushion when Nathan’s eyes went to the vast array of books stacked around the walls. It would have been an exaggeration to say that all of them were romantically lewd. But it wasn’t a very large exaggeration.
“Well.” Nathan laughed. “That’s a lot of source material to live up to. What do you like about them?”
“Don’t know.” Vlad lifted his face from the cushion so Nathan could see his lips move. He wanted to hide more than ever, but he wasn’t about to be inconsiderate either, especially not with a person so willing to give him what he so desperately craved.
Impossibly patient, Nathan prompted, “There must be something. Otherwise you wouldn’t read them.”
Vlad hesitated and licked his lips. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice; his stomach swooped pleasantly as the words left his mouth. “I like…” he trailed off, still not able to give the thought voice.
“Yes?”
“I like the thought of being pinned,” Vlad admitted, the words coming out in an embarrassed rush. Warmth bloomed high on his cheeks. “I like the thought of being unable to move or hide or… get away.”
“What else?”
“Blindfolds?” Vlad hazarded weakly.
“Are you asking or telling?”
“Yes?” Vlad said
Nathan huffed with laughter. “So, we’ve got restraint play and sensory deprivation.” Nathan ticked them off on his fingers. “Fairly basic stuff.”
“Is it?”
Nathan shrugged easily and rubbed at his neck. “Sure. Lots of people like those things. I do. Though I usually prefer to be the one doing the restraining. What else?”
Vlad swallowed. “Kneeling. Being told what to do.”
“Obedience? Huh.”
“Why do you say it like that?” Vlad tried not to balk at the idea he’d already shared too much. “Is that… not what you like?”
“I told you, I like what my partners like,” Nathan said in a soothing tone. “But yes, I do like it. I’m just surprised is all. You don’t seem the type.”
Curiosity got the better of him. “And what type do you think I am?”
Nathan eyed him for several long moments, then tipped his head to the side with a thoughtful cluck of his tongue. “I think you’re the type who wants the reward of being obedient, but you’ll dig your heels in every inch of the way just to be contrary about it. I also think you’ll act out just to get a response, even if that response is a quick smack on the arse. Does that sound about right?”
Swallowing down the spike of desire at the thought of being spanked for misbehaving, Vlad cleared his throat awkwardly. He felt thoroughly exposed—and he liked it. “I’d say that’s probably a fair assessment.”
Nathan grinned, a decisively hungry expression that made Vlad keenly aware that he wasn’t the only apex predator in the room. “I thought so. I tend to gravitate toward certain types. It’s what I like about them. Is there anything you don’t like the thought of? Anything in your books that turned you off?”
Vlad thought about it. “I’ve never liked the idea of body fluids, other than saliva and spend, I mean. And I’m… I’m not sure I’d do well with a lot of pain.”
“That’s fair. Pain should be something you build up to, anyway. Do you know what a watchword is?”
Vlad shook his head. None of the stories he’d read had ever used a watchword.
“It’s an advanced way of saying ‘no’ or ‘stop.’ Some people like to say those things in the moment and have them be ignored. But the watchword is a hard stop.”
“In case something goes wrong?” Vlad guessed.
Nathan nodded. “Or if you just want to stop. Nothing needs to be wrong for things to stop.”
“Huh.” Vlad rolled the idea around in his head, kneading his palms together, the cushion he’d hidden behind forgotten in his lap. “What sort of word?”
“Any word. One syllable words work best. I
t just has to be one you wouldn’t normally say to mean stop or say during sex in general.”
Vlad looked around, scrounging for inspiration. His eyes landed on the arm of Nathan’s jacket, still visible through the balcony door, crumpled on the ground where it had fallen. “Red.”
Nathan chuckled, his eyes creasing fondly in a smile. “I didn’t mean right this second, but that works. Easy to remember. We can work on a more complex system as we go.”
As we go, Vlad thought, realizing that Nathan didn’t intend for this to be a one-time thing. It was almost too good to be true. “When you say you have a type…” Vlad began slowly, still curious. “What do you mean by that?”
Nathan cleared his throat and shuffled his boots against the floor. If Vlad hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn the werewolf was finally bashful about something. “I’m a bit of a soft touch, to be honest. I know everyone expects me to be big on physical domination—” he gestured to himself, encompassing his massive frame in a generous sweep of his hand “—but I prefer finding other ways of doing things. I can do the mean act for a while, but it’s not my first choice.”
“What do you prefer then?” Vlad asked, leaning forward curiously.
“Sensory play is probably my favorite.” Nathan held his fingers up as he ticked the items off like a lewd laundry list. “Things like edging and overstimulation. Dirty talk. Playful punishments, like spanking. Praise. Positive humiliation.”
Vlad wrinkled his nose. “How do you ‘positively humiliate’ someone? Surely that’s a contradiction of terms?”
Nathan shrugged easily. “It depends on the person. Pet names can be a good way to get inside someone’s head. Making people say things they’re normally too shy to say. Getting them to show off while they get themself off. Praise, compliments.” A hot flush stole over Vlad’s cheeks. “Mostly it’s just making people feel good about things they want but are usually too shy to ask for.”
Vlad’s ears burned. But he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “But how does that work?”
Nathan observed him for several long moments, and then something in his mannerism shifted. An air of authority rolled over him as he righted his posture and patted the meat of his thigh invitingly. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”
It took Vlad a moment to parse what was being asked of him, but when he did, he sat bolt upright, choking on the sudden swell of arousal that flared through him. “Don’t be absurd. I’m not going to let you dandle me over your knee like some… some… flophouse dandy. I’d never fit.”
“What is it you object to?” Nathan crooked his head to the side. “Being dandled, or the thought you won’t fit?”
“I…” Vlad’s words spluttered out again.
Nathan chuckled. “I thought so. Well, the choice is yours. I’m happy to keep talking all night. If that’s what you want.”
And that was the crux of the matter, because now that Nathan had put the idea in his head, Vlad couldn’t think of anything he wanted more. And from the smile on Nathan’s face, the werewolf knew it too.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Nathan teased, all loose-limbed confidence and gleaming smile. “Afraid of the big bad wolf?”
Vlad shook his head wryly. He was feeling a lot of things, but none of them were fear. “It won’t work,” he said, unfolding himself from the chair and taking a halting step forward. “I’m too tall.”
“We’ll see,” Nathan replied easily. He tipped his head back to keep Vlad in sight. “What’s your watchword?”
“Red,” Vlad replied automatically. Something warm and fluttery lit up in his chest at the noise of approval Nathan made.
“Are you going to use it if you need to?”
“Yes.”
“Good boy.”
Vlad, already starting to give way at the knees, felt his world reel sideways in euphoria. He sucked in air as he sat down heavily in Nathan’s lap.
“Oh dear,” Nathan crooned, wrapping reassuringly solid arms around him and pulling him close. “Did I find the magic words already? I think I did.”
“Gods damn it,” Vlad breathed as he hid his flaming face against Nathan’s shoulder. He was just starting to come to terms with the fact that this was something he apparently liked, when Nathan bounced his knee, sending shockwaves of arousal crashing over him.
“Oh, I know,” Nathan soothed as Vlad whined; his voice dropped to a low, indulgent rumble that did strange and wonderful things to Vlad’s hindbrain. “It’s hard being petted and adored.” Glancing down, he paused. “Or is it hard from being petted and adored?”
Vlad swore and finally lifted his head to look Nathan in the eye.
The werewolf appeared decidedly smug. “How’s this working for you?” he asked, carding rough fingers through the back of Vlad’s hair, making his scalp tingle.
“Mortifying.”
“But good?” Nathan prompted.
Vlad nodded.
“Want more?”
“Yes… please.”
“So polite.” Nathan’s laughter rumbled low in his chest. “What a good boy. Come on, kneel up…” Gesturing for Vlad to move, he positioned him until he was straddling the werewolf’s lap with his knees digging into the soft cushion of the mattress. It would be easy to push him over, Vlad realized, climb on top and kiss him senseless. But he also didn’t want to ruin whatever game they were playing. At least, not yet. Not when his head was feeling so pleasantly light and warm…
“Strip,” Nathan said.
The warmth from before turned into an inferno. “What?”
“You heard me.” Nathan leaned back, running his palms appreciatively over the meat of Vlad’s thighs. “Take off your clothes.”
Vlad’s hands moved to follow the request before twitching away from his cravat at the last moment when self-consciousness caught up with him.
“Unless you’d like me to do it for you…” Nathan left the sentence hanging in the air.
Vlad swallowed thickly. His fingers fumbled to undo the intricate lace knot at his throat. He’d barely finished when Nathan’s fingers found their way back into his hair; blunt nails scratched over the nape of his neck, making him shiver.
“Keep going,” Nathan urged.
Vlad hurried to comply, peeling off his silk jacket and letting it drop irreverently to the floor. It was quickly followed by the black velvet of his waistcoat.
“Gods, you are pretty,” Nathan murmured. He tipped Vlad’s face gently from side to side like he was admiring something precious. “I could watch you do this for hours. What do you think, sweetheart? Want to sit in my lap all night and look pretty for me?”
Vlad nodded shakily, face flaming as he pulled the straps of his suspenders down, letting them hang from his waist. By the time his shirt fell free, Vlad was panting, a hot flush of color encroaching down his neck and chest.
“Beautiful.” Nathan smiled as he palmed his hands over Vlad’s flanks, blazing a trail of fire in their wake. “Touch yourself.”
Acutely aware of the blood draining from his face and going straight to his groin, Vlad stammered, “W-what? I… I don’t—”
“No?” His other hand inched up the inside of Vlad’s thigh, tantalizingly close to the obvious line of his hardening cock beneath the thin fabric of his trousers. “Not even when you’re all alone?”
Vlad’s gaze unfocused on the expanse of clean sheets at Nathan’s back. A hot, guilty swell of arousal surged through him as the memory of his wanton behavior earlier as he ground himself off to this exact fantasy. He hesitated a moment longer, then scrambled to undo the buttons of his fly, palming himself free with a relieved little whimper.
“Good boy,” Nathan purred, and Vlad let out a harsh gasp, stroking himself almost reflexively in response to the praise. “That’s it,” Nathan murmured, dripping filthy encouragement into Vlad’s ear, talking him through it as Vlad pulled himself off in his lap. “Show me how you like it.”
It was the sheer gentleness of it
that was driving him wild. The soft lull of Nathan’s voice and the playfulness of the torment in sharp contrast to the cruelty he’d spent a lifetime imagining, working himself up into a desperate frenzy of self-loathing in a bid to scratch the itch burning under his skin. And yet, it was the easy rumble of approval in Nathan’s chest and the familiar touch of his own palm that shook him apart, unspooling his thoughts until all that remained was a warm, heady glow, suffusing his chest with light.
“That’s my good boy,” Nathan crooned, carrying on his litany of praise as he tipped Vlad’s head up, which forced Vlad to look at him. “You are my good boy, aren’t you?”
Vlad nodded; his bottom lip caught between his fangs.
“Tell me,” Nathan prompted with a caress over the side of Vlad’s mouth. He tested the point of Vlad’s left fang with the pad of his thumb, like testing the edge of a blade. “Tell me you’re my good boy.”
“I’m… I’m your good boy,” Vlad said. A shocking prickle of tears formed behind his eyes at the unexpected surge of emotion that accompanied those words.
“Good,” Nathan purred and promptly slid his thumb into Vlad’s mouth.
It was intrusive but not unpleasant. Vlad groaned, hollowing his cheeks around it and sucking with an enthusiasm that was wholly sincere. Before, sex had always felt vaguely performative in Vlad’s experience, like he was on the outside looking in on himself, pretending to be whoever his partner wanted him to be. But he’d never played the coquette for anyone before, not like this—never so openly on display with all his wanton needs exposed. It was oddly freeing.
“Beautiful,” Nathan murmured again, watching hungrily as Vlad stroked himself off. “Getting close?”
Vlad nodded; his hand sped up, winding the tension around the base of his spine to the breaking point. He didn’t even try to stifle the broken sound of need he made when Nathan pulled his thumb free. A wet line of saliva followed Nathan’s thumb down his chin.
“Want to be good for me?” Nathan asked.
Vlad nodded frantically.
“Hands off, sweetheart.”
Vlad whined. He shook his head but managed to tear his hands away. It left him feeling shockingly present within himself, the throbbing ache between his thighs heightened by the sudden loss of contact that had so easily been tipping him toward the edge of release. It was almost more than he could stand.
