by Laura Kaye
Alex liked him messy with the proof of his pleasure.
“I don’t want to push you too far, too fast, Jamie.”
“I understand, Sir,” he said, dropping his gaze.
“Are you telling me what you think I want to hear now, little sub?”
A shy smile. “I don’t mean to, Sir. I’m trying to respect your wishes and wisdom. It’s just, I really do want to try everything. Right now, in this moment. While it feels like this.”
“Like what?”
“Perfect.”
While it feels perfect. Alex felt that way, too. God, he felt it harder and deeper than he should. Almost desperately, given all that he’d lately been yearning for in his life.
But he didn’t want to be selfish, either. And no way in hell did he want to be reckless, or do anything to tarnish the shine of this kid’s newfound excitement and enthusiasm.
Jamie swallowed thickly, the sound tortured and parched, a reminder that Alex still had other ways he needed to take care of his submissive. “Do you think you can get up now?”
Frowning, Jamie nodded.
Alex bit back a smile. “Then take off your jeans and kneel for me. I’ll get you some water.” Jamie did as asked, and Alex didn’t miss the spark of hopefulness that lit behind his eyes.
Releasing a long breath, Alex crossed the room, tugged his dress shirt from his slacks, and toed out of his shoes and socks, relishing the cold planks beneath his feet. Next, he went to the small fridge that sat hidden inside the nightstand beside the bed and retrieved two bottles of water. And then he went to a cabinet and grabbed tubes of cream and lube, a package of wet wipes, and a towel before returning to his sub.
His sub.
Careful, McGarry.
The warning was necessary, especially when Alex saw how amazing the man looked kneeling for him. For a long moment, Alex just stared, committing this image to memory. Of the first time Jamie Fielding knelt, entirely naked, at Alex’s feet. Seeing this now, he wasn’t sure how he’d resisted for even one second claiming Jamie for himself.
He spread the towel in front of Jamie, then handed him a water. “Drink.” Alex watched in satisfaction as he quickly swallowed half of it down. Then Alex traded him the wet wipes for the bottle. “Clean my pants of your cum.”
Pink filtered into Jamie’s cheeks as he wiped at the streaks that marred the dark dress pants. Alex didn’t mind the mess, not at all, but he wanted the kid confronted with the reality of what they’d done.
“Sorry, Sir,” Jamie whispered, diligently scrubbing at the stain.
Alex grasped Jamie’s chin in his fingers and forced him to meet his gaze. “Are you really sorry for this?”
His cheeks went impossibly pinker. “For staining your pants, yes, Sir. For coming on you, no. No, Sir, I find that arousing as fuck.”
“Keep talking like that and I’ll find a way to punish that mouth.” Alex arched a brow, not for a second missing the challenge that flashed through the sub’s gaze. “When you’re done cleaning me, get on your hands and knees on the towel.”
It wasn’t long before Jamie moved, giving Alex the chance to do what he’d been dying to do. See whether and how his actions had marked Jamie’s body, and provide the care that would help ensure those marks weren’t permanent.
Alex sucked in a breath at the red stripe that crossed the paleness of Jamie’s flesh. “That’s fucking beautiful.” He knelt and palmed an ass cheek, a deep satisfaction taking root in his gut.
Jamie sucked in a breath, his hips bucking.
“Be still.” His fingers traced the stripe his belt had left, extending across one cheek and over the other. “How does it feel?”
“Like an ache that’s directly connected to my cock,” Jamie said, arousal filtering into his voice again.
Swallowing hard, Alex uncapped the cream, and then he rubbed the marks slowly, reverently, cherishing every moan that spilled from Jamie’s throat.
“Makes me so hard to hear you moan and cry and scream, Jamie,” Alex murmured, squeezing the cheek just to hear even more of the sub’s decadent sounds. He didn’t disappoint.
Alex coated his palms with more cream, then grabbed both red cheeks and spread them wide, exposing the ring of Jamie’s asshole. Fuck. The small pucker of it begged to be explored.
His fingers wet with cream, he swiped his thumbs over the hole, coating it with the lotion. Jamie’s back arched at the contact, surging blood into Alex’s cock. “Aw, you are begging for it, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Jamie rasped.
Alex squeezed and swiped, squeezed and swiped, until the tips of both of his thumbs pressed against the ring of muscle. Jesus, he was deliciously tight. Alex was going to enjoy this so fucking much. Getting lube this time, he circled the pad of his thumb against the little asshole, loving the filthy, wet sounds the touch made. And then he pushed inward until his thumb penetrated. Past the fingernail. To the first knuckle.
Jamie threw his head back. “Oh, God, yes.”
Alex fucked Jamie with his thumb. Then he pushed deeper and reveled in the new sounds that wrung from the sub’s mouth. But he wasn’t done pushing him. Not by a long shot. He pushed his other thumb into the forbidding ring of muscle next, doubling the invasion in Jamie’s tight hole.
Jamie’s incredibly tight hole. The sub groaned as Alex’s second thumb plumbed deep, as the two together fucked his ass. Alex applied outward pressure against the ring, then a little more as he urged the muscle to widen, loosen, get ready for so much more.
But that ass remained tight. Too tight? He eased his fingers free, enjoying the groan of disappointment even as his gut latched onto a possibility that was blowing his fucking mind.
“Turn to me and kneel,” Alex said, remaining crouched so that they would be eye to eye for this conversation. “When was the last time you had anal sex, Jamie?”
Something flashed behind the sub’s eyes, telling him almost everything he needed to know. “About a year ago I had a girlfriend who regularly penetrated me with a dildo.”
Alex felt his eyebrows lift as his gut began an uncomfortable tumble. “And?”
“And, uh, that relationship was the only time.”
It was like Alex’s brain tripped over that revelation, because for a second he couldn’t respond. And then the implications of what Jamie just revealed came down on him like an avalanche. “Are you telling me you’ve never fucked a man?”
“No, Sir,” Jamie said. “I’ve only recently come to realize that I’m attracted to men, too. But when I think about the pain I crave, I feel like I need the strength and size of a man to give it.”
He’d never been with a man. Jesus Christ, Jamie Fielding had never been with a man.
And Alex didn’t know whether to smash his head against the nearest wall for giving in to the insanity of playing with someone who was this inexperienced. Or to get down on his knees and thank whichever god was responsible for giving him the chance to be the one to break Jamie in—in every way he might need breaking. Consequences be damned.
Sure, consequences be damned for Alex. That was a risk he could consider taking—even if whether he should take it was another question altogether. But Jamie was a fucking virgin. Virgins required initiation, preparation, care.
“Sir?”
Slowly, Alex met the other man’s gaze. “Yes, boy? Tread carefully.”
Jamie nodded, his expression so damn earnest. And not a little determined, too. “Sir, when is it appropriate for a submissive to beg? And how might a submissive do that to show how desperately they desire something, and how much they’re willing to debase themselves to have a chance at earning it?”
Alex’s heart tripped into a sprint, because that was possibly the sexiest goddamned question he’d ever been asked in his life. He wanted it stamped on a T-shirt, or mounted on a poster, or maybe even embroidered on a pillow. Jesus. The mouth this kid had on him. And the beautifully deviant brain behind it.
“If I were to tell you, just w
hat is it you’d beg for?” he asked, his voice like gravel.
Jamie unleashed a shaky breath. “For you to take my virginity. Roughly. Unforgivingly. Maybe even pretending that I don’t have a choice in it. And for you to take it tonight. Here. Now.”
Eight
Jamie was done holding back. He was done questioning. He was done feeling like he was on the outside looking in.
Now that Master Alex had demonstrated exactly what Jamie required to fully connect with another human being, he needed this to go all the way. More than that, he wanted Alex to be the one to take him there.
So he held his breath, held the Dom’s gaze, and held on to the hope that the man would agree.
“You want your first time to be non-consensual role-playing,” Master Alex finally said, his voice like it’d been scoured with sandpaper.
The tone of it gave Jamie hope. Because he was affected. Jamie wasn’t the only one who needed this, he would’ve put money on it.
Nodding, Jamie summoned the courage to say what he wanted, while the Dom was still open to hearing it. Even though, Jesus, the words on the tip of his tongue were seriously twisted. He let them fly anyway. “I want you to force me, use me, hurt me. To show me what it really means to be taken by a…a—”
“Say it.”
“By a sadist.”
Master Alex’s dark eyes flared, and his expression went a little mean. Jamie’s cock hardened, a reaction he couldn’t hide when he knelt there naked. The Dom’s gaze swept downward and settled on his growing erection, and Jamie felt the directness of that perusal as a physical caress.
Slowly, Alex rose to his full height, and then his expression went absolutely unforgiving. “Beg.”
For a moment, Jamie froze at the realization that Master Alex was opening the door. And then he walked through it. “Please, Sir. Please take me. Please use me.”
He arched an unimpressed brow and crossed his arms.
What could he do to reach him? To impress him? To convince him? Heart racing in his chest, Jamie thought back to the only guidance he had—the porn videos he’d watched as he’d tried to wrap his brain around what turned him on. And humiliation definitely did. So he crawled to Master Alex’s feet, knelt again, and peered straight up the man’s body.
“Please, Master Alex. I want to be what you need, too. Show me.” A dark, hot glare bore down on him, but that wasn’t the only thing Jamie saw. Because from under the Dom’s dress pants and the wrinkled tail of his shirt, Jamie could make out the jerking movements of Alex’s growing erection.
Master Alex arched a brow and stepped backward. “I like it when you beg.”
Jamie was desperate for the approval. He stretched his upper body and arms forward until his fingers just grasped Alex’s toes. The position ground his knees into the hard floor, but Jamie didn’t care. “Please, Sir.” When the Dom didn’t retreat again, Jamie shifted his whole body forward until he lay prone on the floor, face down, hands caressing and grasping Alex’s foot. “Please.”
“Spread those fucking legs,” Master Alex bit out.
On a groan, Jamie did, feeling exposed and vulnerable. “Please. Please. Let me serve you.”
A long, silent tension stretched out, and the next thing Jamie knew was an unforgiving hand clutching his chin and forcing him to arch back so hard that his cock ground into the floor. A pained grunt tore out of him, but Jamie didn’t mind, not when his gaze focused on Master Alex crouched before him. He’d removed his shirt and undone his pants, and now he stroked his cock mere inches in front of Jamie’s face.
His incredibly thick cock. It might’ve been average in length, but there was absolutely nothing average about its girth. Jamie swallowed hard, a wave of awed terror washing through him. Because he was begging…for that baseball bat to penetrate him.
“You beg so pretty, boy. I’m going to give you what you think you want.” The smile that crawled up Master Alex’s face was pure evil in the night.
Jamie’s whole body flashed hot.
Alex lazily stroked that fat cock as he spoke, still forcing Jamie to hold the uncomfortable position. “You remember your safe words?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me.”
Jamie released a shaky breath. “Green for good. Yellow for slow down. Red for stop.”
A single nod. “You understand that we are role-playing. If you say your safeword, I will stop immediately. But saying things like no or stop or you’re hurting me won’t make me stop. In fact, I just might do it harder if you let me know you’re in pain. So you must use your safewords if I push you too hard toward a limit.”
Jamie loved that he took the time to make that clear. “Yes, Sir.”
“I will wear a condom when I penetrate you, because even though I want to hurt you, I need you to know that I will always keep you safe.” One eyebrow arched in a dark slash.
Jamie was naked. Prone. Held in a way that made his back and cock ache. And yet those words still rushed affection through his whole body. Affection for this man. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Then I want you in the bed. Pretend to be asleep, Jamie. That’s the set-up. Everything else is fair game.”
Jamie’s pulse spiked in aroused anticipation. This was exactly what he’d hoped for. “I understand, Sir.”
“Then, go. I’m no longer Master Alex to you. And you’re no longer Jamie. We’re strangers, and I’m about to invade your world.”
As Jamie crossed to the big bed and drew back the covers, Master Alex disappeared through a door near the wall of toys.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered to himself, half sure he must be dreaming as he slipped between the cool sheets. It seemed so impossible that he’d found all this so suddenly. He’d come home from work on Friday night and been Jamie Fielding, straight-laced attorney and boyfriend of Liz Stein. And now he lay here on Monday night, naked in a strange bed in a sex club, about to be violated by a sadist man intent on hurting him—which was exactly what he’d begged for and precisely what he’d been searching for. For so very long.
The lights dimmed, though they remained high enough that he could still see. But it helped create the illusion. And it was just one more thing that helped Jamie understand that a lot about the fulfillment that BDSM had to offer stemmed from the psychological aspects of the power dynamic and the role playing and even submission, itself.
So he gave himself over to the illusion, too. He stretched out in his favorite position, one leg straight out and the other drawn up so that he lay partly on his side and partly on his stomach. And then he closed his eyes. For a few moments, his ears attempted to compensate for the loss of vision, until he was almost straining for the sounds that might reveal Master Alex’s nearness. But then Jamie forced himself to count his breaths—in for two and out for two. In for two, out for two. Until, finally, his brain tuned out and his body relaxed and his mind drifted for long minutes.
A door creaked. Near silent footsteps padded upon the floor. Fabric rustled. Little noises Jamie couldn’t decipher.
The mattress depressed.
Jamie’s gut went on an insane loop-the-loop.
The covers dragged downward, baring his back. Jamie shifted onto his left side, determined to feign sleep until something about Alex’s—no, the intruder’s—actions was disruptive enough that it might’ve awakened him for real.
Something gently looped around his right wrist. Slowly, his arm was lifted and repositioned to rest on his hip. And then behind, to the small of his back.
Jamie frowned, and his eyes eased open, blinking into the dimness.
Someone loomed over him—
Gasping, Jamie wrenched into a sitting position. “What the fuck?”
But the masked intruder was on him before he’d even finished uttering the question, forcing him down, then onto his stomach. Jamie fought and twisted and wrestled and cursed.
“Get the fuck off me! Who the fuck are you?”
A knee planted itself in the center of Jamie’s back,
then the man made a play for his other wrist, but Jamie bucked hard, nearly throwing him off balance. If he could just get off the bed and run…
He nearly threw himself toward the edge, but the man’s whole weight came down on top of him and his arm wound round his throat. “Keep fighting and I’ll cut you,” came a terrifying voice in his ear. Something sharp pressed against his neck just below his jaw.
“Fuck you,” Jamie spat, even as blood surged into his cock. The blade pressed hard enough to shoot Jamie’s pulse into a staccato beat, and he groaned.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I’m happy to make you bleed for me.”
Jamie held still. “What do you want, man? Money? My wallet’s on the table.”
The sharpness shifted to the back of Jamie’s neck as the man pushed onto his knees. “Not money.”
“What then?” Jamie turned his head.
“Don’t fucking move.”
Suddenly, something looped around his left hand, something hard and unyielding. And then the restraints on his hands were cinched together, securing his wrists at the small of his back. The man grasped Jamie by the arm and flipped him over, forcing him to rest on the uncomfortable combination of his pinned arms and still-healing shoulder tattoo. But Jamie barely had time to react to that before the man straddled Jamie’s thighs and applied a third restraint—another zip tie, as it turned out—around the base of Jamie’s ball sack.
The tight, almost cutting squeeze made him yell and buck. He peered up at his tormenter. Shirtless. Black dress pants undone at the waist. Black medical gloves on his hands. Black mask with openings that revealed only his sneering mouth and dark, glaring eyes.
“You going to cooperate now?” He held up the pocket knife, turning it so the dim light glinted off the blade. “Or can I put this away.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
