Firm Hand

by Nora Phoenix

  Joy surged up in Rhys. He leaned in and kissed Cornell, a soft kiss at first, but one that quickly grew deeper. As always, one taste of that man wasn't enough.

  "I quit my job because I want to be home with you," he said when he knew he had to break off the kiss before it would lead to things they still weren't ready for. "And I know it's fast and it may scare you because of how big this gesture is, that I need to be there for you. So I'm starting my own practice right now."

  He watched as Cornell's eyes filled with tears. "I can't believe you did that for me," the man whispered.

  Rhys wiped them gently away with his thumb. "You may not believe it yet, sweetheart, but I would climb mountains for you, cross deserts, and fight dragons."

  More tears escaped as Cornell looked at him with pure devotion. Rhys smiled. The man might not realize it yet, but Rhys could see it in his eyes. It was already there, the same love that Rhys felt for him. All he had to do was be patient.

  "Now that we've had your talk," Cornell said, his voice breaking a little as he looked at Rhys with tear-stricken eyes. "Will you please fuck me?"

  18

  Wasn't it interesting how you could be nervous for something, even when you knew you had nothing to be nervous about? Cornell hadn't even realized he'd been tapping his right foot while waiting for the doctor to finally call them in until Rhys put calming a hand on his knee to stop him. He didn't even need to say anything, the message loud and clear.

  Cornell shot him an apologetic look from between his lashes, grateful when Rhys merely smiled at him. "I'm nervous," he said, as if that hadn't been clear already.

  Rhys's smile turned into a bit of cheeky grin. "No kidding," he said dryly.

  "Not because I have reason to be nervous," Cornell hastened to add.

  Rhys took his hand, lacing those strong fingers through his. "I know. Now stop worrying."

  Funny how that tone was enough to make Cornell’s mind at peace. How he wanted to put his head against Rhys’s shoulder and give in to this deep need to touch him, feel him near, know that Rhys was taking care of him. At least he’d slept in Rhys’s bed again last night, snuggled up against him. The joy that brought was ridiculous, considering his age, but he couldn’t help feeling so safe in his arms, so…loved. Was it love? That was way too fast, wasn’t it? Deep affection, then, because after everything, Cornell couldn’t deny how much Rhys cared for him. And how much he…liked Rhys.

  Minutes later, they were called into the doctor's office. "I see you’re here for some rapid testing?" she said, getting right to business.

  She addressed Cornell, and he realized this was what they could expect from now on. People would automatically assume that he was the dominant partner, considering the age difference. He wasn't sure how to respond, but Rhys was ahead of him.

  "We are," he said calmly. "You can start with me."

  Her eyes widened for a second before she caught herself. "Okay. Is it okay if I call you Rhys?"

  Rhys nodded, and she grabbed an iPad and started firing questions at him about his sexual history. Cornell wasn't surprised to hear he'd never tested positive for anything. He hadn't expected anything else, not from someone with experience in the scene.

  "When was your last oral or penetrative sexual contact?" the doctor asked.

  "Four months ago," Rhys answered calmly.

  Cornell's mouth dropped a little open. Four months ago? That meant he hadn't had sex since the accident. Why? He could've easily done a scene or scored some ass before Cornell had moved in with him.

  The doctor ran through a few more questions, then repeated the whole spiel with Cornell.

  "Four months ago," was his answer when she asked him when he'd had his last sexual contact.

  He and Rhys shared a look, and before he could even say anything, Rhys took his hand and squeezed it softly. He knew Cornell and his dad had been coming back from a scene at the club when they'd gotten into the accident, so Cornell didn’t need to say anything else. It had been bad sex, but it had still been sex.

  "The assistant will be right in to draw some blood, but everything looks normal, and there’s no reason for concern," the doctor said after she was done with the questions and a brief physical examination. "You will have the results within an hour."

  Cornell wasn't worried at all, knowing that he'd always played safe, and he expected Rhys to have done the same. It was a precaution, and more importantly, something Rhys had asked them to do. Cornell hadn't liked being rejected again when he'd asked Rhys to finally take him up on his offer, but when Rhys had explained why, he was okay with waiting a little longer.

  "I want to claim you," Rhys had said in that low, deep tone of his that reached places inside Cornell he didn't even know existed. "But I want to do it bare. I’ve waited for you for so long that I want to share with you what neither of us has shared with anyone else ever before. I want to claim you, own you, explore every bit there is of you, until you're drenched in my smell, dripping with my essence."

  Was it cheeky and corny? Hell yes. But it was also intoxicating, the way Rhys looked at him, talked about him, devoured him with his eyes. Any doubt Cornell had had whether Rhys really wanted him had vanished right then and there. Rhys had painted such a vivid picture that Cornell had been shivering with want. So when Rhys had proposed they’d book a rapid testing appointment at the clinic the next day, he'd instantly agreed.

  The assistant walked in only minutes later, and she only needed drops of blood from their fingertips, so they were done within minutes. Spring had started, the last snow melting from the sidewalks and the huge piles in the parking lots. The sun was still a little watery, but it teased the still bare landscape into the first promise of warmer weather.

  "Do you want to go somewhere for lunch?" Rhys asked.

  Cornell instantly nodded.

  "Any preference for a place?"

  "Not really. You can decide," Cornell said. He'd always been easy that way, whether it was choosing which movie to watch, which music to listen to, or which restaurant to eat at. He genuinely didn't have preferences, and he hated the decision stress it gave him. There was always the fear of making the wrong choice and displeasing the person he was with.

  "Why don't we go for the sandwich shop?" Rhys said. "That way, you can have one of those roast beef sandwiches you love so much."

  Cornell's heart swelled. Rhys took such good care of him, in big things as much as little things. "That sounds delicious."

  "Another plus is that we can walk over there and leave the car here," Rhys said, holding out his hand to Cornell.

  He took it instantly, reveling in the way his hand fit in Rhys's. It wasn't till they walked for a minute or so when he realized they were out in public. Holding hands. "What if someone sees us?" he asked.

  Rhys shot him a quick look sideways. "Would it bother you if someone you knew saw us?"

  Cornell thought about it. This wasn't the town where he lived or worked, but it was the next town over. The chances of him running into people he knew were not insignificant, considering how many people he’d met professionally over the years. Would it bother him if they saw him with Rhys? They'd instantly jump to conclusions, that much he did know. An old man with a younger one, they'd draw all the wrong conclusions. Did that bother him? That was the question.

  "I don't know," he said honestly. "Not because I'm embarrassed to be seen with you, but because people will get the wrong impression."

  Rhys hummed in agreement. "Yes, they will. They'll think you're the dominant one in the relationship."

  "That's what bothers me," Cornell admitted. "Because I'm not, and it almost feels unfair to you if it comes across that way."

  Rhys pulled on his hands to bring them to a stop, then faced him. "You don't need to worry about my feelings," he said softly. "I can take it."

  "I know," Cornell said. "But it's as much about your feelings as about my own. I hate that people always assume that because I'm older, I am dominant in a relationship. I
'm proud to be myself, and I hate that I have such a hard time convincing people that it's okay to be submissive."

  Rhys's smile was a reward in and of itself, but the soft kiss he pressed on Cornell's lips was the icing on the cake. "I love that you are so comfortable in your identity as a submissive."

  They started walking again, Rhys accommodating his tempo to Cornell's much slower one. "People so often think there's shame in submitting to someone else, but there's not. When you do it to the right person, there's freedom and peace of mind," Cornell said. "It's hard to convince people because society teaches us being dominant, being in charge, is good."

  "And the fact that I'm so much younger doesn't change that for you?" Rhys asked. "Because it's even more frowned upon when the person you submit to is twenty years younger."

  Cornell shrugged, wincing when that gesture sent a hot stab of pain through his shoulder. "I think I have more of an issue with you being Jonas's son than with the age difference between us, to be honest."

  Lunch was comfortable, relaxed. Cornell enjoyed his sandwich as they chatted about everything and anything, conversation flowing easily between them. He couldn't believe Rhys had taken another day off when he’d only been back at work one day. He'd explained to Cornell that he still had accrued leave and that he'd rather take his leave than having it paid out, which apparently, his practice had been reluctant to do anyway.

  They took their time for lunch, and they'd just gotten back to the car when Rhys's phone rang. "The doctor’s office," he told Cornell.

  He took the call, and Cornell could hear the assistant rattle off their results through the phone. He'd given permission for them to release his results to Rhys as well, since it seemed easiest to do it in one phone call rather than have them call both of them consecutively.

  Rhys ended the call, then looked at Cornell with eyes that darkened. "Let's go home. I have plans for you."

  * * *

  They didn't say anything else on the ride home. Rhys shot a look sideways every now and then to make sure Cornell wasn't choking on his nerves. Because the man was nervous, that was clear from his slightly trembling hands, the way he kept wiping his palms on his pants, how his eyes kept shifting to Rhys and back.

  It was a weird position they were in, Rhys realized. Sex between a Dom and a sub was often planned, since scenes usually required some advance preparations. But sex between boyfriends was supposed to be spontaneous. So which one of the two was it? Was he acting as a Dom here or as a boyfriend? Could he be both at the same time when their relationship was still so fresh, when they hadn't even entered into this territory of having sex yet?

  He tried not to let Cornell show his own nerves. Because he was nervous, he could admit to himself, his stomach twisting and twirling. He wanted to get this right, more for Cornell than for himself. But damn, this was hard to navigate. Cornell wanted him to take the lead, that much he could surmise, but did he want him to approach it as if it were a scene? That was the question.

  He could ask him, but somehow, that didn't feel right either. He noticed time and again how happy it made Cornell when he didn't have to make the decisions, when Rhys made them for him. Like choosing where to eat for lunch or even what to eat. Others might find it overbearing, but Cornell craved it, ate it up, and reveled in the sensation of it.

  By the time they arrived home, Rhys hadn't found a solution in his head for his Dom versus boyfriends conundrum. So he decided to go with his gut. As soon as he'd closed the garage behind them, he shut the engine off and turned toward Cornell.

  "I want to see you in my bedroom in half an hour, naked, prepared, and ready for me. Is that clear?"

  The gratitude that flowed from Cornell's eyes confirmed he'd made the right call by taking more of Dom than a boyfriend approach. In the end, Rhys had decided that Cornell would probably like the structure it provided, the clear expectations, where he knew nothing else was expected of him than to obey. That didn't leave a lot of room for nerves or for fuck ups on his part, which should bring him relief.

  Cornell hurried into the house as fast as he could, and it pleased Rhys to see how much his mobility was still improving. He followed at a slower pace, mentally going over how he could make this work for Cornell. He wasn't planning on doing a full-on scene, but he could incorporate a little of what he had learned about his preferences to help him center and make it so he could relax.

  Because if he were honest, as much as he wanted Cornell, this wasn't about sex for him. This was about intimacy, about him wanting to give Cornell a wonderful experience. The man had been rejected too many times, even by him, though he’d had good reasons. He needed to feel wanted, desired, loved. And because it was Cornell, maybe also a little used.

  He quickly got changed, then left his bedroom to give Cornell time to prepare and present himself for when Rhys walked back in. As cliché as it was, there was something very erotic about wearing leather pants. He didn't wear them often, because they could easily come across as over the top, but if there'd ever been an occasion worthy of wearing them, it was now. He wasn't wearing a shirt, comfortable showing up bare chested with bare feet, letting the pants hug his legs and ass, which he'd always felt were his best features anyway.

  When he walked into the room, Cornell was positioned perfectly, his body tight, his head bowed respectfully. No kneeling sub had ever showed him more deference, and Rhys felt his heart swell up with pride.

  "You're so beautiful," he told Cornell, who reacted with a smile, keeping his eyes down.

  He walked around him, inspecting him from every angle. He knew Cornell looked at himself with frustration about his scars, but to Rhys, they showed the man's strength, his story. He didn't mind them at all—quite the opposite, in fact.

  Cornell shivered when Rhys touched his neck, scratching it a little in a comforting gesture, before he let his finger trail down his spine. Goosebumps popped up on his skin, and Rhys smiled a little. He'd never met anyone who was as sensitive to touch as Cornell was. He was like an expensive instrument, responding to every touch, every minute movement, begging to be played by a master.

  He tapped the flared end of the plug that stuck out between Cornell's ass cheeks. "Are you ready for me?" he asked, bringing his mouth close to Cornell's ear.

  "Yes, Sir," Cornell said.

  He said it with a lot of warmth and affection, and yet it suddenly sounded off to Rhys, as if something was missing. He frowned as he tried to pinpoint what it was, then shook it off.

  "So if I wanted to sink balls deep inside you right now, I could?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Do you want me to?"

  To his credit, all that time, Cornell had kept his gaze low. "I'll do whatever pleases you, Sir."

  There was that strange feeling again. It wasn't unease, nor the sense that something was wrong. It was more that it felt like it wasn't enough, Sir, as if it didn't cover the dynamic they had. It puzzled him enough to distract him for a few seconds while he tried to work it out in his head. Luckily, Cornell didn't seem to notice.

  "I'm so lucky with you, boy," he told him, and funny enough, that word did feel right. Calling Cornell his boy wasn't about age difference. It was about acknowledging that he wanted Rhys's care, needed it. It was about assuring both of them what the rules were in their relationship, with Cornell as the submissive partner.

  "Thank you, Sir," Cornell said, and that emotion in his voice was easy to spot.

  "What if it pleases me to use you a little?" Rhys asked, even though he already knew the answer. Cornell was a verbal guy, enjoying the words almost as much as the actual actions.

  "You can do whatever you want, Sir."

  He meant it, there was no denying the deep desire to please that was clear in his voice. Rhys caressed his cheek in approval before raising up his chin with his index finger. "You're perfect," he said again, feeling this deep need inside him to get that message across.

  "So are you," Cornell whispered, and then he took in Rhys's outfit and
let out a little gasp. The sound shot straight to Rhys's balls, already heavy and full. He loved feeling like this, the anticipation building in his body for what was about to come.

  "I want you on the bed on your back, your head hanging over the edge. I've dreamed about your mouth, so it's time to see if my dream matches the reality."

  Cornell's cheeks flushed as he hurried over to the bed to obey Rhys, telling him it was something he looked forward to. Within seconds, he had positioned himself on the bed, his head hanging over the edge, his body fully supported by the mattress, and his mouth already dropping wide in anticipation of what was about to come.

  "Hands to your side, and don't move them."

  He walked closer, only shoving his pants down far enough to take out his cock and balls. He loved how dirty that felt, letting them hang out while he was still wearing those sinfully tight leather pants. Cornell studied him upside down, his mouth opening even wider.

  "Stick your tongue out," Rhys told him. "And don't move or do anything until I tell you to."

  He grabbed his cock in a firm grip, then slowly brought it toward Cornell's mouth. He caressed his lips first, basically tracing his mouth with the fat head of his cock. Cornell moaned, but like the good, obedient sub he was, he didn't move. Rhys dragged the tip of his cock along Cornell's wet tongue. As much as he loved blow jobs, there was something much more intimate and tantalizing about this stage. He appreciated taking it slow, teasing and enjoying the first contact.

  He loved how Cornell's slightly coarse tongue felt against the tender head of his dick as he dragged it from the back of his tongue all the way to the tip. He repeated the move, loving the soft moan Cornell made. His cock grew heavy in his hand, the first pearl of moisture beading at the tip.

  Cornell waited patiently when he withdrew, and Rhys rewarded him by swiping that first drop on the tip of his tongue. "Taste me," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.