That he’s pledged himself to me.
Collaring him will be a big mental step. Coming up on the stress of announcing and running his campaign, every little mental and emotional edge I can give him now will pay off in a huge way later.
I move around his body, caressing his flesh, holding him. He hooks an arm around me and once again presses his face against my stomach. I’m struck by how vulnerable he is. Emotionally, not physically.
Even one-legged, the man could literally kill me right now, if he wanted to. I’ve never in my life been in a fist fight, and this guy is a decorated combat veteran. I’ve seen how he and Leo wrestle together. The guy’s fucking strong.
I guess that’s even sexier, that he’s willingly submitting to me. Damn sure couldn’t physically force him to do anything he didn’t want to.
Like Leo, I’m not into that. I have no desire to force Elliot to do anything. He approached me.
I work my way down his body, taking my time as steam swirls around us in the shower. He needs to decompress, needs to settle into this new thing between us, even though he asked for it.
He’s not the only one.
He spreads his thighs, watching me as I reach between his legs and wash his cock and balls. Almost instantly, he’s hard again.
Excellent. I was sort of hoping for that.
Then I soap my fingers and reach behind him, sliding them down the seam of his ass. “Up,” I tell him. “Hold on to me.”
He stands, balancing with an arm hooked around me as my fingers slip between his ass cheeks. I tease his hole, noting how his breath quickens as I do.
A little more soap before I start playing with him in earnest. Oh, absolutely, the boy’s getting fucked tonight. If it wasn’t so goddamned late, he’d be cleaning out and I’d be fucking him raw and truly marking him as mine.
Maybe tomorrow night.
Or, technically tonight, I guess.
A little more soap, and my finger circles his rim, gently pressing but not breaching. His head droops, and when I look, his cock’s hard and twitching against his thigh.
Perfect.
I’d fuck him right here if it wasn’t for the fact that I want to plow him hard and deep and unleash some of my own frustrations. He also needs it.
From what I’ve witnessed between him and Leo, Elliot’s needs hit deeper physical notes than mine do.
Darker notes.
I stretch, reaching, and grab the bottle of lube I stationed in here earlier. I rinse the soap from my fingers, lube them, and then press for entrance.
He softly moans, his arms tightening around me.
“Does my boy need this?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Been a while?”
“Too long, Sir.”
“Don’t you dare come before I give you permission. And no, you don’t have permission right now.”
“Yes, Sir!” he gasps.
I slide my finger in to the first joint, gently test to make sure I’m not hurting him, then go deeper. Once I’m buried all the way to the knuckle, I slowly finger-fuck him, pleased to find him trying to rock in time with my motions.
It doesn’t take me long to work him up to three fingers and I’m vigorously finger-banging him. I add more lube, withdraw my fingers, then ease him down onto the shower chair and wash my hands. Pre-cum’s dripping from him, and I rinse him off.
He stares up at me, eyes glazed, and I know the boy’s in subspace.
Terrific.
No, not sarcasm. I mean great that I can get him to that point with sex. Yay, me. Makes my job easier.
A lot easier.
I give his cock one more gentle pump before I make sure he’s rinsed off down there. I really don’t want to taste soap when I go down on him.
I have him wash me, then I shampoo his hair and mine. I’ll be changing his body wash and shampoo to my preferred brands. I want him smelling like me, yet another way to anchor him to me.
An added bonus is that if Leo doesn’t walk away, every time he’s with Elliot he’ll be thinking of me.
Maybe I do have a sadistic streak in me.
Once we’re both rinsed off, I shut off the shower and grab towels, drying him first, then me.
One more thing. “Do we need to put anything on your stump tonight? Skin cream, or do you need a shrinker or anything?” I’m not an expert on his routine, but I remember a few of the things I learned from before.
He’s still in the zone, because it takes him a moment to respond. Then he looks at his leg and checks it. “No, Sir. It’s all right.”
Even though he really doesn’t need it, I keep an arm around him as he stands with the assistance of his walker. I grab another clean towel from the linen cabinet in the bathroom and bring it out with me. He’s got a nightlight in his bathroom, so I turn off the light. Then I help Elliot into the bedroom and sit him on the edge of the bed.
“Standing order—you use your walker, or crutches, if you don’t have Duck on when you’re here or in a hotel room. Especially if I’m not with you for some reason. Got it? You have a completely preventable fall, you’ll wish you’d obeyed me when you’re healed up enough for me to beat your ass. Leo wasn’t strict enough with you on that and you and I both know you’ve had some close fricking calls over the years.”
A playful little smirk quirks his lips. “Yes, Sir.”
No, this isn’t ableism—it’s emotional bonding. I know he’s managed by himself all this time. That’s the whole freaking point of me giving him orders like this. Let’s face it, there won’t be a lot of orders I can give him that won’t eventually get overridden on an emergency basis, thanks to his job.
If he’s elected.
Anything that helps strengthen the bond between us, I’m going to do it.
Which brings me to another point. I stand in front of him and hold his hands. “Look at me, boy.”
He does.
“You really want to be President?”
He hesitates for only the briefest of moments. “Yes, Sir.”
“You can always not run.”
“I know, Sir.”
I gently squeeze his hands. “Another order. If at any time you change your mind—even if it’s the day before the general election—you are to tell me. Understand?”
After a moment, he nods. “Yes, Sir.”
I squeeze his hands again. Inside, I’m channeling Mimi. Her protective, fierce spirit, her irrepressible love.
Her ferocious streak. “You wanted a Sir—you’ve got yourself one. There’s a side of me you’ve never met before because you haven’t been around me that much. You know me as Leo’s boy and Jordan from Chris’ office. Maybe this is my first gig as a Sir, but I guarantee you, I can keep you in line and take care of you. The fact that Leo wanted me to do this very thing in the first place should tell you that.”
This time when he nods, he looks more certain. “Yes, Sir. I promise if I change my mind that I’ll tell you.”
Another hand squeeze, and this time, he squeezes back. “If I ever give you a command that being VPOTUS or POTUS conflicts with, duh, obviously that’s an exception.” I smile. “Still might punish you, though.”
He returns my smile. “I would hope so, Sir.” The smile fades. “I don’t want you to let me slide.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t.”
I spread the towel out in the middle of the bed. I don’t want to screw around trying to change the sheets tonight. I pat it. “On your back.”
He stares up at me as he gets into position. It’s late, and I’m exhausted. I know he is, too.
Still, we need this.
I kneel, straddling him. I lean in, grab him by the wrists, and push them over his head, where I pin them to the bed. I’m caging him with my arms, the way Leo always used to do with me. Staring down into Elliot’s blue eyes, I can see he’s sinking deep into subspace again.
“Who’s my good boy?”
“Me, Sir.”
I lean in closer, my lips just over hi
s. “What do you want, boy?”
“Please fuck me, Sir.”
My cock’s hard, rubbing against Elliot’s abs as I close the distance and kiss him. I also adjust my grip on him so I’m holding his hands, not his wrists. His fingers close around mine and squeeze as I take my time kissing him. It feels like days instead of merely hours have passed since I was pulled out of work and found myself being kissed by VPOTUS on Air Force Two.
In some ways, it feels like I never left Washington. It almost scares me how fast I can step back into Jordan Walsh, Politico mode.
I guess being a chameleon is a good thing.
This slow-burn kiss is fueled by the volcanic heat flowing right below the surface. Trying not to think about those times with Leo between us, I thoroughly explore every bit of his mouth and his stubble rasps against my cheeks. There absolutely will be throat-fucking sessions in his future.
Not tonight.
Tonight, this is us, this is the baseline, this is where we start this new deal and build upon it.
My boy.
His Sir.
Our messy, crazy union, in what will in short order become an increasingly messy, crazy life.
The literal calm before the campaign storm.
I always need to be the eye of the hurricane for him, his safety, his refuge.
Nipping and sucking at his lower lip, I gently tug, playfully, loving how he’s so easily given himself to me.
Neither one of us is an expert in love—we’ve got Leo in common. Elliot’s had a couple more partners than I have, but they were women. Leo’s trained us well, I dare say. That’s why I think it doesn’t take long for me to feel close to exploding just from kissing him.
Only when I know I’m damn close do I sit up and grab a condom and lube. I quickly sheath myself, slather my cock with lube, and hike his legs up, pressing his knees to his chest to give me access.
“Watch me,” I order.
He does. I nudge in and sink home hard and fast, his gasp at the rapid intrusion filled with nothing but pleasure. His legs wrap around my waist and maybe I’m the one trapped now.
Maybe I want to be.
Then I lean over him again, once more pinning his hands to the bed and kissing him as I grind on him. I need a moment to find a pace that won’t tip me over the edge too fast.
I finally hit my stride, hammering into him and watching his eyes. “You can come for me, boy.”
Like this, his cock’s pinned between our bodies, and it’s not long before he’s moaning, arching against me, his ass contracting around me as he spills all over both of us.
I finally quit holding back and join him, well aware that I’m crying out as I come.
I’m thinking about Leo, about the last time we made love.
The first time we made love.
I’m thinking about the fact that this is the first time I’ve fucked anyone except Leo, not counting the earlier blowjob Elliot gave me.
Under me, Elliot softly weeps.
I release his hands and slide my arms under him as he wraps his around me and clings to me.
“Thank you, Sir,” he hoarsely whispers. “Thank you.”
I sigh. “You’re welcome, boy.” I nuzzle my lips against his forehead. “I promise we’ll figure this out together.”
After he calms down, I go clean up and bring a washcloth for him so he doesn’t have to get out of bed.
Finally, we curl up together in his huge bed that feels empty without Leo in it, too. I lie on my back and he drapes himself over me, his head on my chest.
In less than a minute, he’s deeply asleep.
I stare down at him in the dim light.
Dammit, Leo.
No, it’s not fair I’m now doing this. But I’m going to do it. I meant every word I said to Elliot.
There’s likely going to be a bumpy road between the three of us upon Leo’s return to DC. Until then, I’m going to focus on Elliot and get him grounded and where he needs to be for the insanity he’s about to throw himself into.
My boy’s got an election to win. Like hell will I let him fail.
Because Elliot needs me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I awaken with a start sometime shortly after dawn Friday morning to find myself lying in a strange bed, staring up at a vaguely unfamiliar ceiling, and with the warm weight of a man wrapped around me like I’m a pillow.
As my pulse slows and I take a deep breath, yesterday’s events flow into my brain, chasing away my disorientation.
I know this man.
It’s Elliot.
I’m now Elliot’s Sir.
I’m now the body man for the vice president of the United States.
Literally his body man.
I…own him.
Oh, fuck.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. From the light, I’m guessing it’s not even seven yet, meaning we don’t need to think about getting up right now.
I don’t know what today will bring but I’ve got a shiny new ID badge that says I once again have full access to the White House.
Meaning a quick trip over to the EEOB for me to handle paperwork, get a new official phone and laptop, network access, and all that garbage.
Elliot and I really need to have a long, serious talk. I don’t know how I’ll cram that into his schedule, but it’s got to happen.
For starters, I prefer Leo doesn’t learn I’m back until he returns from his trip with the president. Maybe that’s the wrong call, I don’t know. For now, it feels like it’s the right one. Mostly because I’m a chickenshit, but also because I don’t think this is the best time for the two of us to get into a global screaming match when President Samuels rightfully needs Leo’s full focus on his job, and Elliot needs mine on him.
Another issue is that Elliot and I need some bonding time. Something we never really had before outside the influence of Leo’s presence in our lives. I’m hoping Elliot not being alone and having someone he can trust in his corner will help him.
I take another deep breath and try to sink back into sleep. Today will be a long, stressful day for me, reorienting myself to the pulse of DC, adjusting my disguise yet again, and settling in this new role.
I drift back to sleep at some point, where I find myself caught, for once, in a beautiful dream of me and Leo. More a memory than a dream, recalling a fantastic Sunday we spent together. A day when he didn’t have to go to work because President Samuels wasn’t leaving the White House, and our plans were to stay in bed all morning until we got hungry.
That morning, I awoke to Leo’s mouth around my cock and my Master looking up at me with a playful grin as he edged me for the better part of an hour before getting me over.
I reach down, and the fact that my hand lands on the back of a head makes my eyes pop open.
Elliot smiles up at me around my cock, which is sweetly lodged in his mouth. He once again swirls his tongue around the head of it before lightly sucking as he deep-throats me.
Okay, then.
Like fucking hell am I going to stop him. What are you, crazy?
WWLD?
How many times did I awaken Leo exactly like this during our years together?
Countless times.
The reason I dreamed it was Leo is most likely because Elliot’s never been with a man except Leo—and now me. Just like me, most of his technique was learned from Leo’s tutelage.
And Leo’s damned good with his mouth. It makes sense if he trained me in the fine art of fellatio that he also trained Elliot.
I reach down and grab Elliot’s head, holding on as I take over and start fucking his mouth. I don’t know or care what time it is, because this will happen first.
“Good boy,” I mumble, loving the way his mouth vibrates around my cock as he happily moans in response.
I hold on and don’t hold back, thrusting as deep as I can, feeling his chin brush against my balls at the bottom of every thrust.
Elliot likes being used hard. There’s someth
ing about him that needs it rough.
I tighten my grip in his hair and damn near choke him on my cock. He’s good, though. Used to taking it from Leo, and Leo’s bigger than I am.
I want to get rougher with him but I’m already close to the edge.
It’s been a long damn time for me, and I didn’t realize exactly how needy my body was until now.
“Take it, boy,” I grit out. Then my balls tighten and he’s swallowing, and swallowing, as pleasure spirals through me. Even after I relax and start stroking his hair, he holds my softening cock in his mouth, waiting on me.
Waiting.
There’s a lot of waiting involved in being part of Elliot’s private world.
I coax him back up and see his cock’s hard.
While orgasm control and restriction will feature greatly as part of our dynamic, this morning, I want to make him come.
I flip him onto his back and sit up so I can climb between his thighs and go to town. I’ll need to invest in rope or cuffs for him.
I’d borrow Leo’s, but I don’t want to go to his place and alert him I’m back. Disarming his alarm—if he hasn’t changed the code or the locks—will send him an alert.
I’m not ready for that confrontation.
Then again, it’d be better if I have my own set of cuffs and a collar for Elliot. One that I’ve bought just for him. If we’re building this from the ground up, it needs to be us.
I add those items to my mental shopping list.
Isn’t a lie to say I want Elliot completely invested in me before Leo’s return. Then there’s less chance of Elliot sending me away. Sure, he told me he won’t, but there are no guarantees.
Right now, frankly, I need this time with Elliot. After all those years with Leo, the past several months alone have been torture in an unexpected way—I’ve longed for intimate human contact. I mean, I knew it’d hurt to walk away from him.
Except I never factored I would be unable to heal from it, and that my emotional wounds would still feel nearly as raw and painful six months later.
Doing this for Elliot means a lot of work, and a high-pressure scenario, but I’m tired of being alone and feeling like what I’m doing doesn’t really matter one fucking bit in the greater scheme of things.
Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2) Page 21
