Chapter 18 Saúl
eighteen
saúl
You don’t have to make it sound like it’s putting you out.
The words repeated in my head as I followed Damian and Cam down the stairs to the basement.
I didn’t understand why he couldn’t have chosen any of the rooms that sat empty and got better light and fresh air on a more daily basis, but he was my best chance to have a proper playroom that didn’t involve a club I was trying to avoid, or setting up something back home I wouldn’t be able to explain to meddling family members, so…
Beggars can’t be choosers was a saying for a reason.
The second Damian turned on the lights, he didn’t have time to show Cam around or do much of anything.
The boy rushed toward a large swing that stood toward the middle of the room—a beauty of padded leather I’d helped Damian with as he’d started piecing this place together.
Cam ran his fingers over the edges of the seat, then the leather cuffs for the wrists and ankles. Time slowed down as I watched him.
If I didn’t think I had it bad for him before, this sealed the deal for me. All thoughts fled the room as I started walking toward him. There was no hesitation as I swooped an arm around his waist and pressed him against my back.
“You’re feeling good about this?”
I felt his body go still against my hold before he gulped and nodded. “I mean, are you? I didn’t really ask, I just started panicking about everything else.”
“It’s okay.” I didn’t want to build a habit of cutting him off, but I’d seen firsthand how he could go from 0 to 100 with his anxiety when he started overthinking or trying to guess other people’s moods or thoughts. “I’m good.”
“Okay.” He swallowed. “So, is there a plan I don’t know about? Because D-types always have plans, so I’m just checking. And letting you know it’s not very nice to have all these plans that don’t involve us.”
“Oh, my plans involve you all right,” I teased, “but no, I didn’t know Damian would want to see you cry.”
“Or be edged,” Cam added. He trailed the chains of the swing that connected the pieces of leather with two fingers, the rattling sound oddly soothing in the space we were in. “Just to be clear, I don’t know how long I’ll make it.”
“Without crying?”
“Without coming,” he corrected.
I chuckled.
“I doubt that’ll be a problem.”
It wouldn’t be a surprise, either. Cam had spent the entire trip anxious, a rod ready to bounce at the slightest sign. Then there was the fact that he sucked me off, and I didn’t return the favor.
“I’m just saying.”
“I know.” Fuck, was this him being playful, or nervous? I didn’t want it if it was the latter, but if it was the former? Blood rushed downward to my cock as I kneaded my fingers into the skin above his hipbones. “I also have a feeling you’re the kind of boy that craves being good for your Daddy.”
A stifled whimper was the response I got.
“Saúl—”
I turned him around. I knew he struggled with face-to-face interactions half of the time, but it didn’t stop me from tucking his chin up and forcing him to meet my gaze. “When we’re down here, it’s Daddy. Okay?”
Cam’s eyes widened, his lips parting. I didn’t question what his response was going to be, but I still held my breath until the words left his mouth, the air charging with lust around us.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good boy.”
Damian, thank fuck, had just sat down by one of the pretentious armchairs he had stacked against one of the walls.
I knew I was going to get so much shit from him as soon as Cam was out of earshot, but I also knew I could trust him to behave.
There was no way I would’ve allowed this with only minor grumbling otherwise.
In a way, I appreciated that he was here.
It had been a long time, and I had told Damian more than once that kink wasn’t for me any longer, that I wasn’t interested in anything.
It didn’t mean I had forgotten the basics, or anything else that would seriously endanger Cam, but…
Safety in numbers. Or something.
“Now, we’re going to pretend Damian isn’t here, and you’re going to focus on me and tell me what you want.”
We should’ve covered much more earlier, but…
Lack of practice. That, and my head really wasn’t in the game when it came to him.
I had no idea how I’d managed this long while living under the same roof, or what exactly it was about leaving the safety of the refuge that had broken the spell, but I needed him.
I needed him under my care, under my weight, under my… Everything.
“Yes, Daddy.” Cam leaned forward, our foreheads touching. “You were right, y’know. About the praise, I mean. I—Um. I want to be good.”
I hummed, skimming my hands to tease the edge of his shirt.
He was too clothed for this, but then again, so was I.
Ideally, we would’ve headed upstairs, and I would’ve sent him to douche in the bathroom because it didn’t matter if we were going to do anal or not, I liked the ritual of it.
The idea of putting a stop to any of this now was inconceivable, though.
It would’ve been back then, too, on the couch, while he was trying his best to keep it together.
“Lucky for me, praising you is not a hardship,” I joked.
Cam’s eyes narrowed. “You realize I’m a brat, too, right? And that’s not really funny, like of course it’s not a hardship, I’m a delight.”
“Enough of a delight to kiss me?”
The fucker pretended to think about it before he pressed further into me. I was curious as to how he’d kiss. I wasn’t expecting aggression from him, but would he be confident? Shy? Soft? Would he hesitate at the very last second and wait for me to take the reins?
It was only a kiss, but it felt bigger than anything else we’d be doing down here.
Cam licked his lips, and I could just tell his heart was racing, threatening to beat out of his chest.
The feeling was mutual. I feared it would fill me with dread, that I’d cave because I wasn’t ready for what that mutuality would bring forth. Instead, I stood taller, itched closer, my thumbs pressing against the sides of his jaw, setting him at the perfect angle.
Nothing else existed, just like I’d told him. It was just the two of us, the leather behind him I’d crafted, and the charged air pushing us closer as if it was now a living entity.
“Yes, Daddy.” He sighed out the words before cutting the distance.
He had soft lips. It was… No, it wasn’t a cliché thing to say. Most of the men I’d fucked didn’t actually have soft lips. I didn’t know if it was a country thing, but everyone was too rough, too hardened by the weather and the manual labor and days of not being arsed to shave properly.
Cam worked as hard as everyone, but he still kept that softness, a sort of vibrance, to him. One could very easily get addicted to it.
I feared I already was, and he would not be making it any easier if he found out.
“Will you strap me to the swing, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
Fuck bidding my time and making him sweat for an answer when it was the thing I’d kept picturing—the thing that had made me rush to him instead of giving him the time to actually acclimate and decide what he wanted to do.
Cam spurted out a startled laugh. “Are you always this easy, Daddy?”
Damian made a sound behind me. I ignored it. I couldn’t tell if Cam had even registered the snort. It didn’t matter.
“Only when my boy wants to be cuffed to one of my designs.”
He whipped his face back to the same pieces of leather he’d been admiring before. “You did this?”
“Just the cuffs and the rests, but… Yeah.”
One thing about me was that I always forgot how self-conscious I got over others recognizing my work until it was way too late.
Cam was facing me again, his hands now twined around my neck with all the confidence he’d been missing earlier. It was a good look on him. One that would send any Dom to his knees without even trying.
“Get me on it, Daddy?”
“You’re taking this on stride, huh?”
Too well on stride, I would’ve added. I was learning to read him, though, testing the lines of praise and humiliation and everything else that would keep him teetering on the edge without bringing forth any of the demons that overwhelmed him at any other time.
He’d already been on the wrong side of that edge earlier.
“Yes?” Cam tilted his head to the side. “If you want me to act like a poor, innocent boy who doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into, it’s not happening. Hard limit.”
“Good.” I meant it. “I’m not into that.”
“Good,” he parroted, the quirk in his eyebrow telling me one of his rants was coming.
“Because lots of Daddies online seem into it and it puts me off big time, and I guess it’s a big part why I haven’t really pursued them IRL, and I guess I’m not supposed to kink shame and it’s bad of me, and you can punish me for it, but I’m not changing my mind. ”
“Shh.” I lifted his legs and walked us forward so that I could get him situated on the swing. “I’m not going to punish you or force you to change your mind.”
The world was a complicated place. Maybe one day we could have a deeper conversation around it, but right now was not the time.
Besides, I could deal with one person going on in a tangent, but I could not deal with more than one, and it was a shock that Mr I Join Every Rant Whether Or Not I Know Anything About It hadn’t offered his two cents yet. I’d rather not give him more openings.
“But you’re going to force me to come. Yes?”
Cam looking up at me while getting comfortable on the leather was a sight.
Fuck. Why was this affecting me like this? He wasn’t the first boy I set on a swing, or the first boy I tested my creations on.
He…
Never mind.
“If you behave.”
The three magic words had him sitting back—trying to—right away, a scowl forming. “What does behaving mean?”
I exchanged a quick glance with Damian. He hadn’t moved, but that meant he hadn’t taken his eyes off us, either, and I knew he was following every word and every twitch of a muscle.
“It means you give us a show.”