A Dom and His Warrior

by Xenia Melzer

  Leeland figured it was worth a try. Jonathan didn’t answer. He bent down to take one of Leeland’s nipples in his mouth, and in a way, that told Leeland all he needed to know. His suffering wasn’t over yet. After Jonathan had teased his nipples until they were hard little kernels, he finally, finally allowed his body to touch Leeland’s. Their cocks slid against each other while Jonathan started kissing him.

  Just when Leeland thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Jonathan stopped. He caught Jonathan’s heated gaze, and what he saw there made Leeland shiver in anticipation.

  “If you don’t like what I’m going to do, you tap me on the head three times. Got it?”

  Nervously Leeland wetted his lips. He knew where this was going. Excitement and dread warred inside of him. Jonathan must have seen his inner conflict, because he brushed his lips over Leeland’s nose.

  “Just a little bit, honey. I swear, I’ll stop the moment you tap me.”

  Leeland felt the sudden urge to placate Jonathan. This wasn’t about him trusting Jonathan.

  “I trust you. I’m just not sure if I trust myself.”

  “You’re the one in control, Leeland. Always.”

  Leeland felt tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. Jonathan knew him so well.

  “Thank you. I love you.”

  “And I love you, boy. Now, where was I? Ah yes, driving you crazy.”

  Jonathan started kissing him again, and Leeland felt the tension in his body melting. And when his master shuffled a bit sideways and started stroking his shaft with long, sure movements, Leeland almost forgot what was still to come.

  Until Jonathan’s other hand clamped down on his mouth. With his thumb and forefinger, Jonathan pinched Leeland’s nose, literally taking his breath away. Leeland shuddered. The dueling sensations of panic at not being able to breath and of pure lust radiating from his cock were almost too much. The survival instincts his parents had honed and trained screamed at him to take Jonathan down, to act against the threat. His body, though, loved what was happening, loved the hormones flooding his system, the mixture of pain and pleasure as his lungs started to burn. He could end this anytime, an inner voice reminded him. He wasn’t bound. It was his decision. His alone.

  Jonathan let go of his nose, and Leeland gulped in huge lungfuls of air. All the time, Jonathan never stopped stroking Leeland’s cock, winding up his need to come. Leeland didn’t know what to think. Breath play had always been one of his hard limits. There was no Dom he trusted enough to control his breathing—until he met Jonathan. When they set up their contract and talked about limits, breath play had come up. It was something Jonathan wanted to try. Nevertheless he’d been willing to put it on the list of hard limits when Leeland insisted. After the first seven months together, Leeland had found he wasn’t as averse to the idea as he had initially been. He and Jonathan talked it over and agreed to move it to the soft limits. From then on, Jonathan started including bits of breath play here and there. It was never at the core of a scene, and never when Leeland was bound. It gave him a chance to get used to the idea of Jonathan controlling his breathing, of surrendering to him in this new way. And Leeland found he liked it. That didn’t mean he was totally relaxed, though.

  Now Jonathan smiled down at him.

  “My brave boy. I know how hard this is for you. You make me proud.”

  The words helped Leeland to relax even more. When Jonathan’s finger pinched his nose again, Leeland kept their gazes locked, reveling again in the heady mixture of pain and pleasure Jonathan gave him. He felt his orgasm approaching fast but didn’t want it to end. As if he had read his mind—perhaps he’d seen it in Leeland’s eyes, Leeland couldn’t tell—Jonathan took his hand away from Leeland’s mouth and nose.

  “Want to be inside you when you come, boy.”

  “Yes, please, Master. Please!”

  Grinning, Jonathan reached for the lube on the nightstand. Leeland hadn’t even realized it was there when they started the scene. Watching his Dom slick up his heavy, fat shaft had Leeland’s hole twitching. He couldn’t wait to feel the thick cock in his ass. When Jonathan finished lubing himself, he squirted a generous amount on his fingers. The predatory gleam in his eyes intensified when he breached Leeland’s hole with his forefinger.

  Leeland gasped and lifted his hips invitingly. He loved it when Jonathan prepared him. A second finger joined the first, quickly followed by a third. Leeland was so turned on, his hole accepted the intrusion willingly. But no matter how enthusiastic Leeland was, Jonathan still took his time loosening him properly, another reason why Leeland loved the man so much. Then after what felt like an eternity, Jonathan took his fingers out and positioned his cock on Leeland’s hole. With one swift thrust, Leeland felt him entering and almost came on the spot because it was so good.

  “God, boy, you’re so tight. So hot. Gonna fuck you hard.”

  Leeland panted. His own cock was so hard, he thought it would explode any minute.

  “Yes, please, Jonathan. Do me hard. Fuck me.”

  Grunting, Jonathan obliged. Usually he would start with a gentle rhythm to rev them both up, but not tonight. Tonight they were already too close. Leeland could see it in the way the vein on Jonathan’s temple throbbed and how he clenched his teeth every time he rammed deep into Leeland’s body.

  Leeland felt the familiar tingling in his balls. With a cry he let go of the headboard and slung his arms around Jonathan’s neck. Jonathan’s grip on him tightened in return, and after two more powerful thrusts, they both came. Leeland felt Jonathan’s cock twitch inside his body, the hotness of his seed coating his insides. His own cum acted as an adhesive between their upper bodies, making them slick and sticky at the same time. Jonathan fell down on his side, never letting go of Leeland. Snuggled closely, they slowly came down from the incredible high they had just shared. Leeland pressed lazy kisses on the place where his mouth rested against Jonathan’s sweat-slick skin.

  “Mmm. Salty Master. My favorite.”

  Jonathan pinched his ass. “Brat.”

  “Yes. Your brat.”

  “Mine.”

  Leeland must have dozed off after that, because the next thing he knew was the feeling of a warm, wet washcloth on his skin when Jonathan swiped the drying cum from his body. When he was done, he threw the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom before climbing into the bed again. He spooned Leeland from behind, which was Leeland’s favorite way of falling asleep.

  “Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow. I love you.”

  “Love you too. So much.”

  Leeland closed his eyes.

  “SO, HAVE you decided?” The next morning they were sitting in the kitchen, each with a cup of coffee. Jonathan looked at Leeland with what Leeland secretly called his “serious businessman disguise” look.

  “Yes.” Leeland took a deep breath. “Uncle Misaki is family, and family helps each other, so I’m inclined to do it. It’s only for a limited time, and I’m young enough that losing a year in college isn’t a catastrophe—especially since the costs are covered.”

  Leeland hesitated. He saw Jonathan lifting one of his eyebrows.

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  “Not a ‘but’ per se. More of a caveat.” Leeland met Jonathan’s gaze full-on, hoping his lover could see how serious he was. “If you’re opposed to the idea, I won’t do it. Our relationship is too important to me. And there will be pressure, no doubt.”

  Again, one of Jonathan’s eyebrows lifted.

  “Do you think I wouldn’t be able to deal with it?”

  There was no malice in Jonathan’s voice, which told Leeland that he was genuinely interested in the answer.

  “To be honest, I don’t know. We both know my trust in you when it comes to scenes is absolute. You’re a strong, reliable, levelheaded man with a great ass.”

  The last Leeland said to lighten the mood, though it was true. Jonathan’s ass was a piece of art as far as Leeland was concerned.


  A smile appeared on Jonathan’s lips. “I hope there’s more to me than just my ass….”

  Leeland gazed at his master appreciatively. “A lot more….”

  Jonathan palmed his crotch in a very obvious gesture before he turned serious again.

  “I understand, Leeland, and I can see where you’re coming from. We both know I’m a novice when it comes to relationships. You’re the first man I ever considered dating and—obviously—the first I’ve moved in with. I’m so new to being with somebody for more than just scenes and sex, I won’t even try and pretend to know how much pressure we can handle. I also won’t lie to both of us by saying everything will be fine.”

  Jonathan took a sip of his coffee. Leeland watched, mesmerized, not knowing what held his interest more—the enticing up and down of Jonathan’s Adam’s apple or his words. Jonathan White was more a man of action than discussing his feelings. That he had so much to say on this topic showed how important their life together was for him and how much thought he had put into this. Leeland felt his heart flutter at this unconventional, yet deeply moving, declaration of love. Jonathan went on.

  “There are a few things I do know, though.”

  He looked directly at Leeland, a bright smile softening his features.

  “I love you. I love us. You make me want to be a better man, and I don’t care if it sounds cheesy. We are a solid unit, and we can trust each other.” His smile took on a predatory quality. “As we saw last night.”

  Leeland blushed and felt his cock reacting to Jonathan’s suggestive tone.

  “I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, honey, though I didn’t want to spring it on you like this.” Now it was Jonathan who blushed.

  Leeland melted. “That’s a good thing, because I don’t intend to ever let you go.”

  “Perfect. Where was I? Oh, yes. Staying with you forever. We both know life is not always roses and sunshine. There will be challenges, and I want to face them with you by my side. So let this be our first test. One we take on knowingly.”

  Leeland got up from his chair, rounded the table, and sat down on Jonathan’s lap, slinging his arms around his master’s neck.

  “I love you so much. Thank you.”

  Jonathan embraced him, and Leeland felt the familiar, soothing warmth of his Dom seep into his body.

  “I love you, Leeland. Now go and call your oji.”

  Chapter 8

  ONLY TWO hours after Jonathan had listened to Leeland’s conversation with his uncle on the phone, he was standing in Misaki’s slightly run-down gym in Little Havana, watching while his boy fought in the ring against one of Misaki’s trainers and business partner, an African American named Greg Smith. The gym was nothing like the polished establishment owned by Garrett Kiernan, another Dom at Whisper, where Jonathan went to keep his body in shape, but it had a certain raggedy charm that appealed to his inner animal. It was the kind of gym where he could imagine the members of Fight Club doing their training, a place that smelled of sweat and blood and testosterone, with a dash of mold from the aged building underneath. There were no mirrors, and the equipment, such as barbells, pressing benches, and punching bags, looked worn from having been used for too long. Nevertheless, the gym wasn’t seedy. It was obviously well cared for and reflected its owner.

  Greg, Leeland’s opponent in this fight, appeared to be well into his thirties, was packed with muscle, and at least two heads taller than Leeland. Jonathan was surprised to see how tamely Leeland fought against Greg, which woke in Jonathan the silly urge to defend his boy.

  “He’s not usually that timid.”

  Misaki, whose graying hair gleamed silver in the sunlight filtering through the skylight, didn’t take his dark eyes off the two fighters when he answered Jonathan.

  “I hope not. Otherwise it could get him killed. But Greg has a few black belts, just like Leeland. He’s also taller, which means he has a wider range, and he has at least thirty pounds of muscle on Leeland, if I had to make a guess. One well-aimed punch, and Leeland is out like a light because Greg produces a lot more force. So he has to stay defensive and wait for his chance. My godson is smart. He has already figured out Greg’s weakness.”

  Pride was evident in Misaki’s voice. Out of the corner of his eye, Jonathan watched Misaki. Even though the man was already sixty-five, he still packed a lot of muscle, and the skin on his face showed only few wrinkles. Had it not been for the strands of silver-white hair, Misaki could have passed for being in his late forties. During the few times they had met, Jonathan had found Misaki to be a pleasant, very polite man who loved his godson as if he were his own. Now, in his gym, on his home turf, so to speak, Misaki seemed to be more alert, sharper around the edges, though Jonathan wasn’t sure if this was his imagination playing tricks on him. Things had definitely progressed quickly since this morning, and he felt a little out of his depth. He must have somehow telegraphed his confusion, because Misaki started talking again, addressing at least one of his unspoken questions.

  “Greg was in an accident a couple of years ago. Since then, his left knee hasn’t been as stable as it used to be. Leeland has already realized that. Now! See that?”

  Misaki pointed a finger at the ring, where Leeland had just delivered a vicious-looking kick to Greg’s left leg. The man staggered backward, trying to find his balance again. Leeland must have sensed an opening, because he didn’t give Greg time to recover. He let himself fall, linked his legs around Greg’s ankle, and brought him down. Quick as lightning, Leeland was back on his feet, waiting for Greg to get up.

  Jonathan felt his chest swell with pride, accompanied by something else—worry. Leeland was good, no doubt, but Greg was a lot bigger than him and apparently knew what he was doing.

  “Seems a bit unfair to me. What if Leeland gets an opponent who doesn’t have such a weakness?”

  Misaki just shook his head. “That’s what the weight classes are for. In the UFC, Leeland would never go against a man like Greg. They would be in different classes. It’s hardly fair to send someone with Leeland’s build against somebody who looks like Greg or you. That wouldn’t make for an interesting fight. I still haven’t decided if Leeland is going to fight in the bantamweight or featherweight class, though.” Misaki kept his gaze trained on the ring, where Leeland had managed once more to put Greg down.

  “Enough!” Misaki stepped forward. Greg and Leeland bowed to each other, then climbed out of the ring. Jonathan followed Misaki to a bench where Greg and Leeland sat down. Both men were covered in sweat and panting.

  “That was good, Lee-kun. Better than I expected.”

  Jonathan felt his hackles rise at the dismissive tone, but he knew Misaki was actually complimenting Leeland, which was why he kept his mouth shut. Leeland didn’t seem to take offense. Perhaps he was simply too busy getting his breath back.

  Misaki went on. “How much do you weigh at the moment?”

  “About a hundred and twenty-five pounds, Ojisan.”

  Misaki pinched his nose before turning to Greg. “What do you think?”

  The bigger man took a sip from a water bottle. “I think featherweight. He’s going to build up more muscle during training, and it’s always easier to increase weight than to reduce it. Besides, the field is pretty even in both classes, so there’s no reason to force him into the bantamweight, and the people from Smash! don’t care either way as long as they get their PR.”

  Misaki nodded. “I agree with you, Greg.” He turned to Leeland. “That’s it for today, Lee-kun. Greg and I will talk about your training plan, and I’ll send it to you later today. I’m sure you know there will be food restrictions as well, so you might want to enjoy a nice dinner tonight, because starting tomorrow you’re officially in competition mode. Once I have a date for your first fight, we’ll meet with Samantha Jones to go over the PR side of things. She’ll probably want to take some promo pictures as well.”

  Leeland nodded. Jonathan watched his boy very closely, because he didn’t
behave like his normal self. Usually Leeland was relaxed and happy, but now he seemed stiff and oddly formal. Jonathan could only guess the reason for it. Most probably, it was because the gym was an environment where a certain behavior was expected from Leeland, like when they were at Whisper. Jonathan was vaguely aware that martial arts came with a set of formal behaviors, like bowing to your opponent before a fight started, and using certain expressions to show respect to the other fighter. Being under the scrutiny of his godfather and former trainer could make Leeland feel stressed, Jonathan assumed, especially since he had agreed to work with Misaki again. While Jonathan was still wondering about the dynamics between Leeland and his uncle, Leeland rose from the bench.

  “I’ll have a quick shower, and then we can go.”

  Jonathan pressed a kiss on Leeland’s forehead. “It’s okay, honey. Take your time.”

  Leeland vanished in the direction of the showers, and Misaki told Jonathan goodbye, saying he had some planning to do. Which left Jonathan alone with Greg, who seemed uncomfortable, judging from the way he was squirming on the bench. Jonathan firmly believed in a direct approach when confronted with problems. It had worked for him ever since he found the courage to be out and proud and embrace his “dark desires,” as his deeply religious mother had called his need to dominate his partners. Funnily enough, she’d had no problem with him being gay, just with the fact that he also liked BDSM.

  He couldn’t tell what Greg’s problem was, but since the man was going to work closely with Leeland for the next eleven months, he thought it was a good idea to clear any misunderstanding that might be there.

  “Is there something you wanted to say?”

  Jonathan watched as Greg averted his eyes, clearly embarrassed.

  “No. Yes. I mean… there is something, but it’s probably rude….” He trailed off.

  Jonathan looked intently at the man, saw nothing explicitly malicious, and decided to cut him some slack.

  “Is it about Leeland and me being gay?”