A Master for Matthew (The Dungeon Book 6)

by Aimee Brissay

  Eyes rolling in the back of his head, Matthew started an awkward up and down motion. Hugh’s control snapped. His hips snapped up, almost pushing Matthew away. Matthew leaned in, his cock trapped between their bodies. Hugh locked his arms behind Matthew’s neck, taking his mouth in a scorching kiss. His tongue darted forward, fucking Matthew’s mouth as his dick fucked his ass.

  On top, Matthew moaned and groaned, his movements short and chaotic. Tension pooled at the base of Hugh’s spine. His balls drew tight. He shuffled into a seated positing, cradling Matthew in his arms as he kept fucking him.

  Matthew shook at the change in rhythm and angle, his whole body trembling. Hugh broke the kiss, hiding his face in the crook of Matthew’s shoulder.

  With a long, loud groan, Hugh came. Tremors shot through him, his whole body a giant mass of arousal. He held onto Matthew, the wet heat of Matthew’s release splashing over his stomach barely registering in his mind.

  Chapter 8

  The next day, Matthew walked into The Dungeon carefully glancing around, checking to see if he’d been followed. Which was stupid. He wasn’t doing anything forbidden. He was simply having a session with another Dom. True, he hadn’t discussed it with Sir Hugh, but going to the club wasn’t something he had to ask permission for. So why did he feel so bad? Because he knew, deep inside, that he should have at least let him know about it. They were in a relationship after all.

  Matthew worried at his lower lip. Why had he set up the appointment to begin with? It had been a spur of the moment decision, but once he’d made the call, it felt…right. And what the hell did it say about him that he wanted to submit to someone other than the man he was in a relationship with.

  “Welcome, sir.” Ms. Tamara, the receptionist greeted him.

  It took Matthew several seconds to realize she was talking to him. Even after over a attending the club, he still couldn’t get used to being addressed as such. Sighing to himself, he plastered a smile on his face and responded in kind.

  “Hello. I’m here for my appointment.”

  “Of course.” She checked her computer, frowned, then recovered and smiled back at him.

  Matthew’s stomach contracted painfully. Damn it. She knew something was wrong. What if she called Sir Hugh and told him what Matthew was doing? Fighting to keep a straight face, Matthew waited for her response.

  “Yes, of course. Sir Lucas is waiting for you in room four.”

  He left the reception area before she could change her mind. He knocked on the door. If there was an answer he couldn’t tell over the pounding in his ears, so he entered. Sir Lucas looked up from the tablet in his hand. Matthew’s heart stopped, fear paralyzing him. What if he was communicating with Sir Hugh? But Sir Lucas placed the device down and gestured Matthew in.

  God, what was he doing? His legs seemed to have a mind of their own, because they carried him forward before he could actually decide what he wanted to do.

  To his surprise, Sir Lucas sighed.

  “What am I going to do with you?” Sir asked, though he didn’t seem to require an answer, as he climbed to his feet, took something from the table, and came toward Matthew. Something clinked in time with his step. “Well, I guess I’m going to start off with some bondage.” Sir Lucas held up a pair of leather cuffs connected by a metal chain.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Take off your shoes and shirt.”

  Matthew obeyed. Once he was ready, he followed the next instructions and settled in the middle of the floor, his hands linked together behind his back. Then Sir circled him to get at his wrists, and Matthew held his breath. The touch was sure and impersonal, just like it always had been. The room, the Dom, the play. It was all the same. But the spark was missing. There was no rush, no overwhelming need to drop to his knees in front of Sir. Yet, he obeyed every command, followed each instruction to the letter.

  By the time the session ended, the answer to why he wanted to come in the first place became clear. He had to find out for himself that he didn’t need it anymore. Sir Lucas was great, but no matter how attentive he was, he wasn’t Sir Hugh. And after the play sessions he’d had with Sir Hugh, the ones at The Dungeon fell short. Excitement bubbled in his stomach at the thought of going home and seeing Sir Hugh.

  ****

  The sub shivered, breaking out in goosebumps, his lips parting on a gasp. Yet, he remained as still as was expected of him. He reacted perfectly to Hugh’s commands, acting as eagerly as any other sub in his position. His eyes were slightly unfocused, his mind already deep in the subspace.

  Yet, he wasn’t Matthew. His reactions, while perfect, lacked something in Hugh’s eyes. And that was Matthew himself. Hugh had to admit it: even after just one scene with Matthew, Hugh knew no else could measure up.

  Hugh brought the thin crop down against his palm as he regarded the sub with a critical eye. He was on the light side of the spectrum, like many subs who attended clubs like The Dungeon, leaning more towards mental submission than anything physical.

  “Stay still.”

  Hugh ran the tip of the cane down the man’s back teasingly. He could see his struggle, the tremble of his muscles, and took joy in smacking the man’s butt cheeks. The sub jumped, just as Hugh expected, giving Hugh the opportunity to punish him.

  “I told you to stay still.”

  Hugh brought the crop down harder against the soft flesh of the sub’s ass. The man flinched.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Yes Sir, what?”

  A series of sharp blows marked each word. The sub squirmed, fighting both to maintain his position and shy away from the assault.

  “Yes, Sir, you told me to stay still.”

  “And did you do instead?”

  “I moved.”

  “That’s right. You did.”

  Hugh ran the tip of the cane in circles against the sub’s back, enjoying the tiny flinches the man gave whenever Hugh broke the rhythm. It tickled Hugh’s fantasy, making him want to punish him. Then the sub glanced up, meeting Hugh’s eyes, and the shape and color was all wrong. It wasn’t the near black of Matthew’s eyes. They were too big, too far apart. Which just made him want to hurt the sub even more.

  Instead of giving in to his wants, Hugh circled his sub, giving himself time to clear his head. Having Matthew on his mind so much wasn’t good for his concentration. He bit his tongue and the pain helped him regain his focus. Not only was it not the sub’s fault, but a distracted Master was not something Hugh was comfortable being.

  Somehow, he got to the end of the session without thinking of Matthew again. As the sub exited the room, Hugh let out a long, cleansing breath. His shoulders ached and his back was stiff with tension. He stretched himself and rubbed his neck, working out the kinks in his muscles. Wetting his lips, he tasted the salt of his sweat.

  Groaning, he let his head fall, his chin resting against his chest. When was the last time he’d had a session that taxed him so much? It wasn’t the sub’s fault, nor had it been that intense. It was Matthew. Just thinking of his—boyfriend? sub?—had his heart beating faster.

  Oh, he had it bad for him. And what the hell was he supposed to do about it? How could he manage to separate his private and professional lives when his job was basically more of the former?

  ****

  “I think I cost you a client.”

  “Matthew or someone else?”

  “Matthew.”

  “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “He hasn’t said anything to me yet, but it’s the feeling I got from him.”

  “How do you feel about this?”

  Hugh let out a tight laugh. “I wish he’d come and tell me, but I’m all right with it. But I’m sorry about your loss of income.”

  Lucas waved his concern away. “Don’t worry about it. To be honest, I kinda got the feeling.”

  “Yeah, well, I just want to know that if it doesn’t work out between us, or if he decides he still wants to attend, he will still have a place here.”
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br />   “Of course he does. His relationship status doesn’t matter, though I’d prefer to have his partner’s approval. In this case, you. It would make things easier for him and his state of mind.”

  “Yes, it would. He has my approval, but it won’t matter if he won’t come and ask me for it himself.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Wait. How did you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That he won’t be coming here anymore.”

  “Oh. Well, he was here the other day. The session was okay, but he felt…disconnected somehow. I thought you knew.”

  “I didn’t, but that’s fine.” Not exactly, if that little pang of jealousy was an indication, but he wouldn’t take back his words.

  Lucas narrowed his eyes at Hugh, making him shift uncomfortable in his seat. “It’s more than that. What’s on your mind?”

  “It’s nothing.” But he couldn’t muster enough force behind the words to make it believable.

  “Hugh… How long have we known each other?”

  “Pfft. Too long it seems.”

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I…I’m finding adapting to the requirements of this job difficult.”

  The teasing faded from Lucas’s face, replaced by seriousness. “What’s up?”

  “How do you separate the personal from the professional? I’m sure you get asked that a lot.”

  “Sometimes. Not as often as you’d think. Usually only when personal life comes into contradiction with it. So, based on previous experiences, I assume your relationship is going well.”

  Hugh snorted. “I should have known that’s a general trigger. Yes, it’s going well. But...” He paused.“How do you get your partner out of your head during the scenes?”

  Lucas’s mouth quirked into a crooked smile. “You have to find your inner balance. Figure out why your partner is on your mind during the scene and work with yourself to separate the two.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “If it’s lust, it will die down eventually. But if it’s a real issue, you need to address it before it ends up messing with every other aspect of your life.”

  “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  “I do.”

  Lucas sounded casual, but Hugh could hear the tension beneath the words, so he didn’t push and concentrated on what his friend had said. Was it lust? Or the variation of lust that came with the kink? Or was it more? Bloody hell, it was so easy to get distracted.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I am. And thanks for the advice.”

  Hugh rose and crossed to the door. He barely saw Lucas’s brows shoot to his hairline before he was out of the room. There would be questions later, Hugh knew, but he had time to put his head in order before then.

  He checked the time on his phone, calculating that he had a couple more hours until Matthew had to check in. It might be enough time for him to relax and bring some peace to his mind.

  His workday over, Hugh took his things and headed home. Stopping at the store on the way, he stocked up on cleaning supplies. At home, or what passed as such for the time being, he considered his options. After a short debate, he decided the bathroom would be first. Changing into his working attire, he started scrubbing. He focused on the chore, letting his mind wander.

  ****

  “I missed you today.”

  Hugh found Matthew’s sharp inhale deeply satisfying. “You did?”

  “I did.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” Matthew asked tentatively, as if afraid he was crossing some sort of line.

  “I had a session at The Dungeon with someone who reminded me of you. He responded to me perfectly. But he wasn’t you.” Hugh paused, searching for the words. “I’m making a mess of this. I don’t mean that you’re not perfect. To me, you are. What I meant to say was that, despite how perfect he was during the scene, compared to you, he came up short.”

  “Oh. I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. That’s not why I told you. I just wanted you to know.”

  “I missed you too,” Matthew blurted out.

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. All the time in fact.”

  This time Hugh was the one holding his breath. Emotions rose to his throat like a knot that wouldn’t allow him to swallow. The joy that sparked at Matthew’s admission battled his raising concern.

  Matthew missed him all the time. That was both good and bad. It was good because it meant his feelings were shared. But it was also bad, because it could mess with Matthew’s head and make him unstable.

  Of course, if today was any indication, it made Hugh equally unstable, and someone in his position was far more dangerous than an unstable sub. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, jaws clenched, Hugh listened to Matthew’s breath on the phone.

  There were two solutions he could see for his predicament. One was to break up with Matthew, but the thought of that made his stomach tighten painfully. The other was to stay away from any kink-related activities.

  He rubbed at the spot on his forehead where the first signs of an impending headache stung. His treacherous body screamed no, but he shut it off. Now wasn’t the time to let himself be ruled by his baser nature. He needed his brain to be at full capacity. And he needed to give Matthew time to process everything.

  “I have next Saturday off. If you want to do something together…” Matthew trailed off.

  There it was. The deadline. Hugh sighed to himself. Could he get himself together by then? He guessed he’d have to. Mentally shrugging, he set himself up.

  “I’d love to spend it together.”

  Matthew deserved Hugh to be at the top of his game, and, by hell, that’s what he would deliver.

  ****

  Somehow, the deadline brought Hugh unexpected peace of mind. He woke the next morning with new resolve. There was a spring in his step and his shoulders felt lighter. He strolled into The Dungeon whistling a tune.

  “You’re in a good mood today.”

  He winked at Tamara. “I am. Any changes to my schedule?”

  “None that I know of.”

  “Awesome, wonderful lady. Have yourself a great day.”

  He walked to his room followed by the echo of her laughter. Inside, he started setting everything as he liked. The task relaxed him more than ever, so by the time the first sub walked in, Hugh was already plotting the session.

  Chapter 9

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning to you too.” Matthew beamed and offered Hugh one of the paper cups he was holding.

  “What’s this?”

  “Coffee.”

  “I already have coffee.”

  “I know. But this is coffee you didn’t have to make. Besides, I thought you might like it.”

  “In that case, thank you.”

  Hugh took the drink and sipped. He blinked, his brows puckering into a frown. “What is this?”

  “White mocha latté.”

  He took another sip, and another. Then he gave a little sideways tilt of his head in approval. “Not bad.”

  “Thanks. Thought so myself.”

  “Now, how about a proper hello?”

  Before Matthew could react, Sir Hugh reached out and hooked his forefinger beneath the waistband of Matthew’s jeans and pulled him forward. Matthew barely managed to get his own coffee out of the way before he collided into Sir’s body.

  Sir’s lips descended upon his, claiming his mouth in a deep kiss. Matthew opened up for him right away, caressing Sir’s tongue with his. He could taste the latté on Sir’s mouth, and he moaned, pressing closer. Sir unhooked his finger from Matthew’s pants. He sank his free hand into Matthew’s hair and tilted his head to get better access.

  “I missed you,” Sir breathed out when they broke for air.

  Heart swelling, Matthew arched into him, a huge grin spreading across his face. Would he ever get tired of hearing that? “I’ve missed you too.”


  “Though…”

  Eyes going wide at the implication, Matthew held his breath, waiting for Sir to continue.

  “You need to be punished.” Sir delivered the statement so coldly, Matthew needed several seconds to process it.

  “Why?”

  “I believe you know.”

  Fuck, Sir knew. Matthew could read it in his eyes.

  “Hope.”

  That single word was enough to silence Matthew. At once, he snapped at attention, legs spread, hands at his side. He wished he had some place to put his cup, but without a specific order from Sir Hugh, he didn’t dare move, so he held it at a weird angle, praying it wouldn’t spill. Seeing his predicament, Sir reached out and took it from him.

  “Do you know why I have to punish you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I went to The Dungeon.”

  “No. Because you didn’t tell me you wanted to go.”

  “I—”

  “No! You’ll talk only when asked directly. Did you forget the rules?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Good. Now, I want you to think carefully. Why am I punishing you?”

  “I don’t know, Sir.”

  “You don’t?”

  The whip cracked, its tip biting into the back of the Matthew’s thigh.

  Matthew hissed. “Because I went there.”

  “No.” The whip bit again. “Try again.”

  “Because I didn’t tell you.”

  “That’s right. Because you didn’t tell me.” Sir paused. Matthew held his breath, waiting for more pain. Instead, Sir continued. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d let me go.”

  Sir froze. Matthew tried to peek at his face, to judge how much trouble he was in, but the position didn’t permit it. Sir reached out and lifted his head, his eyes searching his face.

  “I would never do that.” A muscle jumped in Sir’s jaw. “I already told you that when you first brought up the subject. I told you that it’d be your choice, whatever you decided to do. But, and this is a big but, I want to know beforehand.”