by Laura Kaye
Jamie nodded, trying to play it cool even though the rasp of the other man’s voice was doing bad, bad things to him, especially as close as they still stood. “Okay.”
“Okay.” The Dom’s grip tightened on Jamie’s neck. “So is that a yes?”
“Yes, Si—”
Master Alex kissed him. His mouth hard but his tongue soft where it surged inside Jamie’s mouth. Jesus, the man tasted like sin and sex, like he could ruin him and put him back together again. It was a kiss that might’ve taken Jamie to his knees. A kiss he’d never forget.
Jamie groaned at the goodness of it, at the unexpectedness of it, at how fucking amazing it felt to be kissed and held and handled firmly, maybe even a little roughly. At being the recipient of aggressiveness instead of the instigator. His cock was as hard as it’d ever been in his whole life, from a single kiss.
The Dom’s grip on him tightened, and he finally hauled their bodies close, allowing Jamie to feel that Master Alex was aroused, too. Jamie’s heart tripped into a sprint as he gave into the kiss. It might’ve lasted for seconds or minutes, but all Jamie knew for sure was that it ended way too soon.
Master Alex pulled away. “That doubt you were feeling, that’s on me. I’m sorry. I should’ve spoken with more care earlier. But I am sure, Jamie.”
Did the man think Jamie was capable of speech after that kiss? The world was still fucking spinning around him. “I’m sure, too, Sir,” he managed, though his words came out as barely more than a breath.
A single nod. “Then come with me. Somewhere private.”
Jamie didn’t have to be asked twice. He followed Master Alex through the club again, and it was funny. It was the first time he actually thought about the fact that a man had just kissed him in front of a roomful of people. It was a first for him, of course, and therefore new, different. Jamie expected to feel a little self-conscious about that, but was surprised to realize that he didn’t care that these people had seen him, nor about what they thought. Not when everyone at the club seemed so open and tolerant. And, more importantly, not when he felt so fucking good about it.
Would Jamie feel so laid back about it in the real world? He didn’t know, and Master Alex didn’t really give him time to think about it, either. Because just then, they entered the hallway of themed rooms—going about half way before Master Alex paused at a heavy wooden door on the right. The Dom keyed in a code and pushed it open. Soft lighting illuminated the space, and Alex led them inside.
Jamie’s heart hammered with anticipation and excitement. The Master had said they were going to talk, but hopefully they were going to do a helluva lot more than that. Even though Jamie was nervous about…a whole host of other firsts that might mean he’d be experiencing. Still, his travel plans meant that he’d only have maybe six more usable days during his provisional membership at Blasphemy. After that, who knew what might happen. So he wanted to suck the marrow out of every single day he had, and that meant he wasn’t just ready to try whatever might be asked of him, he’d decided.
He wanted to experience it all.
The room was all dark wide plank floors and stone walls. Heavy, rough-hewn wooden furniture filled the space, including a massive bed and some pieces that weren’t regular furniture at all—another Saint Andrew’s cross, stocks, different benches and tables with built-in restraints, a cage. It might’ve been something out of the medieval period, or a medieval torture chamber. Right down to the wall full of hanging implements and toys and the chains suspended from the ceiling. Jesus.
Jamie found the room oddly appealing and definitely intriguing.
“Breathe, Jamie,” Master Alex said.
He grinned, and then chuffed out a little laugh. “Yes, Sir.”
The hint of a smile played around the Dom’s mouth, and then his expression went serious again. “At ease.”
It only took a moment for Jamie’s brain to respond to what was being asked of him, and he assumed the position.
“Very good.” Arms crossed, the man came to stand in front of him. “Master Kyler asked me to introduce you around because I’m a sadist, Jamie. He thought we might be well matched. And he might be right. Are you interested in trying a scene that explores your pain limits?”
It was all Jamie wanted—as long as it came at Master Alex’s hands. “Yes, Sir. Very much.”
Master Alex nodded, and his gaze dragged over Jamie like a physical caress. “Whatever happens here, I need you to understand that you are ultimately in control. We have safewords to ensure that. You are to use them. Green means you’re doing good and willing to continue. Yellow means you need me to slow down or are approaching your limit. Red means you need me to stop immediately. Do you understand?”
Satisfaction rolled through Jamie’s gut. He’d read about safewords before coming to Blasphemy, and it was even more reassuring than he’d thought it would be to know he had a safety net. “Yes, thank you, sir.”
“Any questions, then? Now’s your chance. Speak freely.”
Jamie took a moment to think, but his mind was suddenly blank. “Not that I can think of right now, Sir.”
A single nod. “Very well. Shoes and shirt off and kneel by the chair. And only speak when I ask you a question.”
Swallowing hard, Jamie did as he was told, making a little pile of his belongings by the door. Then he sank to his knees by an armless ornately carved chair, and damn if kneeling didn’t ratchet down some of the nervous restlessness he felt. He didn’t know what else to do or what might happen, but he knew how to do this.
The air was cool against his chest and back, and he found himself hyperaware of his own partial nudity when Master Alex sat before him, still fully clothed. Fuck if the power differential it represented wasn’t arousing as hell.
Master Alex heaved a breath and peered down at Jamie with a stern, narrowed gaze. “What am I going to do with you, my little masochist?”
“Anything you want, Sir.” The response had come right from the gut. Out of his mouth before he’d even debated whether Alex had meant the question rhetorically.
“Anything I want. Indeed.” He tilted his head. “Except you’re new to all of this. So I worry—”
“No, please,” Jamie blurted out, his hands going to Alex’s knees. “Don’t worry. Don’t be easy. I want to try everything. Do everything. And I want to do it with you.”
A storm erupted across Master Alex’s face and settled into those dark eyes, which raked downward to where Jamie still touched him. And then the next thing Jamie knew, Alex launched himself at him, grabbed him by the neck and shoulder, and took him down flat to his back on the floor.
With one hand tight around Jamie’s throat and his knees pinning his shoulders and upper body, Master Alex loomed over him, his expression mean. “Let me make clear how this works, little boy. I make the decisions. I set the scene. You telling me what to do is called topping from the bottom. And I won’t have it. Do it again and it’ll earn you a red ass you won’t be able to sit on for days.”
Jesus fucking Christ. Yes. Yes. Fucking yes.
That was probably not the reaction he was supposed to have. And a little voice in the back of his head whispered that there was something seriously wrong with him for feeling sheer exhilaration instead of fear—to say nothing of the way his pulse throbbed in his rock-hard cock. And Jamie certainly didn’t want to have made Alex feel disrespected.
But Jesus fucking yes.
He swallowed hard, his throat having to work against the tight grip of Master Alex’s hand. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
Master Alex barreled on. “You’re so goddamned sure you can handle this. You don’t even know. I’m going to use you and abuse you. I’m going to hurt you. And I’m going to get off on it.”
Jamie’s cock jerked at the decadent words, and Jesus how the dark promise in them reached out to some secret, hidden place inside him. “I don’t know…but I want to.”
“Why? Why are you here? What do you want out of this? Why the fuck do
you want the pain I’m capable of causing?” That grip tightened, cutting off more of Jamie’s air.
He grimaced and choked. “My…my whole life. I can’t—I haven’t been able to…feel. And I…want to finally feel something, Sir. I need it. And I want to please…you,” he managed.
Master Alex leaned in, that handsome face so fucking harsh. “Oh, I’ll make you feel something, boy. I’ll light you up good.”
God, if Alex was capable of turning his mind and body on so strongly with just two sentences, Jamie almost couldn’t imagine what it might feel like for the man to actually make good on the promises. What if I can’t handle it?
But what if I can?
Jamie whimpered.
Licking his lips, Master Alex nailed him with a stare. “You think you’re ready for my cock?”
Jamie groaned. He thought he’d feel more confusion about that question, more hesitation, more worry. But instead, all he felt was a certain brutal terrifying need. “Yes, Sir.”
“Yes? Really? In here?” He pushed two fingers from his free hand into Jamie’s mouth. Not gently. Not slowly. All the way in, until Alex’s knuckles hit Jamie’s teeth. “In here until you can’t breathe?”
Hips surging, Jamie gagged. And he liked that, too. Liked the way Master Alex’s eyes flared as he watched himself finger-fuck Jamie’s mouth while he struggled to handle it. He attempted to speak around the invasion. To make clear that he was willing to try this. That he was hungry for it. But Jamie’s fingers were too ruthless, so he sucked and gagged and took it.
“And how about your ass? You ready for my cock there, too?”
He still couldn’t verbalize an answer, so he nodded and pleaded with his eyes and sucked on those fingers like they were Master Alex’s cock.
Jamie knew getting fucked was going to hurt. He’d had one girlfriend who’d been into anal sex, and she’d thought turnabout was fair play. So she’d used toys and her fingers on him, trying to stimulate his prostate. It’d been sexy even though it hadn’t always been comfortable, and Jamie hadn’t minded the discomfort. Naturally. What he hadn’t liked as much was that the woman had been too tentative, too sheepish about exploring him to allow Jamie to really get into it. That obviously wasn’t going to be a problem here.
“Maybe I’ll take that ass whether it’s ready to be taken or not,” Master Alex said, withdrawing his hands from Jamie’s mouth and his neck.
The loss of the Dom’s hard touch nearly left Jamie feeling bereft. “Oh, God, Sir.”
A rough tug opened the fly of Jamie’s jeans, and then Master Alex was off of him, hauling him up off the floor and then forcing him down again—down over Alex’s lap, back on the chair. Jamie’s head spun in lust-drunk arousal at the manhandling, even more so when Alex shoved the denim down his thighs, baring Jamie’s ass and pinning his cock against the Dom’s hard thigh.
“Which will make you scream first, Jamie? My hand against your ass or the strength of your orgasm?”
Smack!
Smack, smack!
Three sharp spanks fell in quick succession against his ass, and all Jamie could do was groan at the goodness of it. Master Alex pinned his back down with his forearm, holding Jamie’s upper body firmly in place as his palm rubbed over where he’d just struck.
Then four more spanks fell in a steady rhythm. Hard enough to bring heat rushing into his backside. Hard enough to make Jamie’s hips jerk forward, causing him to grind his cock against Master Alex’s leg. But not hard enough to truly cause pain. Lighter but still stinging strokes rained down against the backs of Jamie’s thighs, making his balls ache and his cock weep.
And then an actual blow fell against Jamie’s ass, and he howled and writhed as a white-hot flash rocketed through him.
“Yes, let me hear you,” Master Alex said, landing another brutal blow on the opposite ass cheek.
The only leverage Jamie had was where his hands and toes touched the floor and where his dick ground against Master Alex. Otherwise, he was suspended inside this rush of painful pleasure, this cloud of sensation that blocked everything else out.
Master Alex rubbed soothing circles against his skin for a moment before two more explosive impacts landed against his ass. Jamie nearly screamed—from the pain, from the pleasure, from the arousal, from finally—for once in his life—feeling present in the moment of a sexual situation.
Alex worked at the fly to his own pants. No, not at his fly, at his belt. Which he knew for sure when the stiff end of it dragged across Jamie’s back. “Now I’m going to push you, boy. Give me your color—tell me where you are.”
Color? What? “Oh. Green, Sir. So fucking green.”
“Fuck, yes,” Master Alex rasped. “Then you’re going to take this. Take this for me.” The Dom bore more weight down on Jamie’s back, like he needed additional leverage to do this right. And then the loop of leather struck him straight across the roundest part of both ass cheeks.
Jamie came. Jamie came until he went blind. And he screamed and writhed and fought and came.
“Four more. Take them.”
When the second belting landed, Jamie’s cock was still jerking out the last pulses of the orgasm, so all he could do was cry in aroused agony. By the third strike of the leather, tears ran down Jamie’s face. By the fourth and fifth, the pain became a soft, white-hot noise that suspended Jamie in time and space.
His ass fucking hurt. But the rest of him? Was overwhelmed with sheer joy.
Because there was nothing wrong with him. There was nothing wrong with him at all.
Seven
Breathing hard and shaking with arousal, Alex eased the two of them down to the floor so that he could hold Jamie in his arms. “Come here, Jamie. Rest on me.”
Jamie’s sluggish movements revealed that he was still riding the physical and emotional waves of the scene, so Alex helped turn him until he was cradled against his chest. And then Jamie released a breath that resounded with such utter contentment that it reached inside Alex’s chest.
Christ. Christ. The way Jamie had taken his beating. The way he’d reveled in the pain of it. Alex’s twisted sadist heart was flying, because what they’d just shared had been perfection.
“Talk to me. Are you okay?” Alex asked, his gaze raking over the relaxed lines of the sub’s handsome face and the almost sleepy appearance of his gray eyes. Before, he’d thought Jamie hot. Now, seeing him totally sated because of the pain Alex had given him, he thought him beautiful.
“I—I have never felt better in my whole life.” His voice was little more than a raw scrape, but the emotion behind the words came through crystal fucking clear. “All this time…all this time I thought something was wrong with me. When I just needed this.” Those gray eyes slanted up at him. “And you.”
Damn if the guy wasn’t riding pretty damn close to subspace, a euphoric altered state of mind that some submissives achieved due to the overwhelming rush of endorphins and adrenaline that spiked and receded during intense BDSM scenes. So Alex wasn’t going to take the adoration in that steel gaze too much to heart.
“You handled that so perfectly,” Alex said, wiping away the wetness of tears or sweat—or both—from Jamie’s face. Doing so emphasized the warm heat still filling Alex’s palm. He freaking relished it and the quiet, calm peace in his mind that he hadn’t felt in far too long.
“I did?” When Alex nodded, Jamie smiled. “Thank you.” His lids sagged, then snapped back open. “Thank you, Sir.”
Alex chuckled. “How was the intensity of that for you, Jamie? Did you feel you were nearing your limit?”
He shook his head. “Even though it hurt and I started to feel…shattered, I was green. I was green the whole time.”
Jesus. Master Alex brought Jamie’s cuffed hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “I think you can switch out the light blue ribbon for the dark.”
Jamie’s eyes went wide, like Alex had just surprised him with a gift. “Really, Sir?”
See? There was just no qu
estioning the sincerity of Jamie’s pleasure, the intensity of his satisfaction, nor how profoundly experiencing his first sadomasochistic scene had affected him. Still affected him. And, in turn, Alex, too. Because when had he last seen such unadulterated elation? When had he last witnessed such a pure example of the freeing power of this lifestyle? When had anyone he’d played with recently found so much of themselves in a scene?
“Yes, really,” Alex said. “This pleases you, I think.”
“It does.” His gaze went almost shy. “Can I be honest, Sir?”
“I don’t want you to ever be anything but.”
“I turn thirty in a few weeks, and I’m not sure I’ve ever fully connected with anyone in a relationship. Tonight, I feel like I’m learning why. I need what you gave me. Which is why, despite only knowing you for a few hours, I feel a connection maybe for the first time ever. So, I don’t know, it’s just…”
Alex was dying to know what Jamie was trying to say. “What? Just say it however it comes to you.”
“You gave me that connection, and I want to give something back to you. So I want to handle everything you have to give.”
Oh, man, this kid was dangerous. How many times recently had Alex recently felt jaded by it all? Jamie had just given him the gift of reminding him what it could be. Under the right circumstances. In the right frame of mind.
With the right partner.
Having just that little taste of what this had once meant to him, and what it could maybe be again, Alex wanted more.
Because those feelings were heady and exciting and hopeful. But they were also scary as fuck. This could all yet go so many different ways for Jamie. And in even thinking like this, Alex was putting the cart light years ahead of the horse.
Which wasn’t smart. Even though Alex knew that, he couldn’t stop a part of himself from doing it anyway.
“Are we done, Sir? For tonight, is it over?” Jamie asked.
Alex raked his gaze over the masculine body sprawled against him. Jamie’s eyes were clear again, the lust-drenched haze of subspace wearing off. A light brown expanse of hair covered his chest, giving way to the blue and black swirls of a large tattoo that ran up and over Jamie’s shoulder and down his arm. His cock lay half-hard against his lower belly, which was still wet here and there from Jamie’s orgasm.
