Chapter 19 Cam
nineteen
cam
“I’m not a good actor, Daddy.” I kept the squirming to a minimum while he got my wrists in the cuffs made for them, though. It was worthy of a reward, just saying. “For the record.”
“I’m glad.” He snorted. “There’s nothing worse than a boy’s fake tears.”
I whimpered. He’d been supposed to coo and be nice and loving and soft, not just… That. (We were obviously ignoring the way my sweatpants tented because the sneer in his voice had been hot as fuck).
Then my hands were secured to the cuffs, and the metal chain rattled as I moved, but didn’t offer a lot of give, and all protests fled the building.
Especially when he was moving and oh-so-casually running his hand through my now exposed torso because he’d taken my shirt off right before grabbing my arm to cuff it as if it was no big deal.
My back rose from the seat for two seconds before I could calm down.
Yeah, he was definitely the kind of Dom who was just going to wait after I stopped with all movements and other shenanigans. The patient slash stern angle really did it for some people.
Those people were not me, obviously, all evidence to the contrary aside.
“Can I take off your pants, Cam?”
My breath hitched. “Are you going to get naked too, Daddy?”
It didn’t matter that I was restrained and wouldn’t be able to touch.
I wanted to see, thank you very much. The blowjob upstairs had been kind of rushed.
He was lucky I’d bothered lowering his jeans past his knees, which I mostly did because belts could be really painful if one miscalculated. Ask me how I knew.
Anyway.
The point was, I hadn’t gotten a show. Yeah, I’d caught him lifting his shirt to sweep sweat off his face, or in the middle of putting on a shirt because he’d just showered, but that wasn’t good enough.
Just because I knew he was rippled with the kind of muscles that were real and not just gym-made didn’t mean I didn’t want to savor it.
I deserved some savoring, dammit. He was going to make me cry. The least he could do was keep me entertained in the meantime.
“You want me naked?”
“Duh?”
I frowned. What kind of question was that, and what kind of person had gone and told him no to make him think it was even necessary? Because I was not a violent person, but I could throw fists. Or whatever people said these days.
“You’re going to be so easy to rile up.”
Saúl had a look in his eye that I didn’t know how to decipher. It looked good. He was kind of smiling, or like he was actively trying not to smile, but that was still a good sign.
“You’re not answering my question. It’s very rude, you know.”
It wasn’t a big ask, was it? Okay, I supposed some people could hold trauma when it came to stuff, but that didn’t fit with what I knew of Daddy. I was half-convinced that he’d walked around half-naked around the house before I showed up to disrupt his privacy.
I was getting ready to blurt out more arguments, but he beat me to it and just grabbed the back of his shirt and pushed it over his head in one smooth motion.
Why was that always so hot? It didn’t matter that it was a basic thing. My gaze zeroed in on the way his muscles rippled with the movement. It would only be better if he was sweating after a long day of work.
My throat went dry.
There was no way I’d be able to keep all the fantasies at bay when we made it back to the refuge. I didn’t know if Daddy was applying a what happens in Texas stays in Texas mentality to this—I hoped not—but I knew that I would not be able to.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, I was doomed.
“Daddy.”
I bit my lip. Why was it so easy to get used to this, to calling him Daddy, out loud but also in my head?
“Hm?” Daddy pulled down the zip in his jeans while keeping his eyes on me. “Any more demands, darlin’?”
“I’m not a darlin’.” There was no bite to the protest—I couldn’t be perfect all the time, it seemed—but staying quiet hadn’t been an option. “Um. I was going to ask about later.”
“What about later?”
I would’ve answered right away; this wasn’t a case of me getting tongue-tied because of anxiety. No, I was tongue-tied because I got too distracted watching Daddy pull his cock out, but keep the jeans on, and I really shouldn’t find this attractive.
The tip of his cock was glistening, too, because of course he was spilling precum already, and he’d probably be coming all over me before I was even allowed to remember my name.
The plight of a sub was not a fun one.
“After Saddle Up.” I gulped. It was maybe breaking the spell around us, or not a conversation to have while his friend was listening, but I knew in my gut we needed to have it.
I knew, despite all my self-esteem issues or whatever, it was important that I had some reassurance.
That I deserved the reassurance. “I’m not good at compartmentalizing. ”
“There you are with the big words.” Daddy smirked as he spoke—not that it gave me a clue to what he meant. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it. No halfway measures.”
My breath hitched. No halfway measures sounded right up my alley, but it was sobering, too, and… Dammit. I wasn’t supposed to want this. I wasn’t supposed to chase it.
My eyes stung.
Blinking rapidly helped—but only partially.
“Edge me, Daddy.”
“I should get you naked first.”
“Right.” I gulped. The air hitting my exposed chest, making my nipples stand out because Damian had to go all the way and he had to add drafts to his gothic house, apparently, had made me forget about the sweatpants still covering me. “Green. All the way green.”
“Is that your way of saying we’re using the traffic light system?”
I nodded.
I should be more worried that we hadn’t discussed safe words up until that moment.
Oh, well.
Someone else could call me out on being an irresponsible kinkster later.
“Good.”
Daddy was quick about removing the fabric.
I got this funny image in my head that he found it offensive or something.
I didn’t have time to bask in it because he was just as quick to lift one of my legs to cuff my ankle to the contraption.
He was almost perfunctory in his movements as he mimicked the action with my other leg.
And then I was aware of all the bare skin, my hole clenching around nothing because it really was colder here than I liked.
“Daddy.” I swallowed.
Fuck.
I was going to be the annoying sub who kept calling for his Dom, and on top of that, I was going to be the extra annoying one that had a million requests that might be genuine but could be interpreted as me stalling.
I was not stalling. I just couldn’t focus if my entire body was shivering for all the wrong reasons.
“What is it?”
“Um.” I looked away—or tried to. Daddy pulled me to him, his fingers under my chin. My balls hit his unbuckled belt, and I needed a second to get some air back in my lungs. At least I didn’t have to worry about the temperature when he was this close. “It’s cold.”
“On it!”
Right.
Damian.
Daddy gave me a rueful smile before he ran a thumb across my cheek. “Look at you being a good boy and speaking up.”
So. Not. Fair.
Why had he clocked my need for praise so quickly?
“Daddy?”
His expression morphed into something akin to amusement. “Hm?”
“I wanna make out. A lot. I know there’s this image of Doms being cold and keeping a distance because that’s hot, too, and edging is supposed to be like a Dom pretending to not give a fuck while torturing their sub, but I want that.”
“You have some interesting ideas about the way all Doms work.” Daddy had the audacity to roll his eyes. “I can spend the whole night making out with you, while I edge and make you cry at the same time.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, Cam.” The way he said my name was thrilling.
He was supposed to be calling me boy or little one or any of those generic words just like I used an honorific for him here, but I wouldn’t be the one pointing it out.
Those words didn’t leave me curling my toes and barely repressing the urge to arch my back and reach for him.
“Is that what you want? You want me to taste your tears while you’re begging for more? ”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Fuck all the bratty tendencies to taunt him and tell him there would be no begging.
I wanted to beg. I wanted to be reduced to a bundle of overstimulated nerve endings and sexual need.
And I wanted him to know it. I’d meant it when I told him he was in for a big reveal if he wanted me to play the innocent, little thing.
“Goddamn, you’re gorgeous.”
He trailed the exposed skin from my knees down to my inner thighs with his hands, but his eyes were stuck on my half-hard dick.
I gasped. When was the last time I’d been inspected by a Dom? Because it was exactly what Daddy was doing.
“Full of surprises, aren’t you?”
I chuckled.
“You like?”
I glanced down because even ten years later, I still got a thrill from watching the glint of metal bars there.
“I very much like,” he confirmed. His eyes were still stuck there. For once, I wasn’t complaining. My dick certainly wasn’t, either, growing to full mast under his attention. “Can I play with them?”
“Please,” I growled.
He didn’t waste his time. It was becoming clear that he wasn’t one to do that a lot, which raised questions about his edging methods, but not enough to make me interested in voicing them out loud.
Definitely not interested when he wrapped one hand around the back of my neck and pushed me to meet his lips.
The angle was more demanding with the way my body was bent, and the chains rattled around us, but I didn’t care.
His mouth was hot and rough and bordering on aggressive as it fought for entrance I was not denying.
In contrast, the hand on my dick was soft, almost reverent as it teased the shape of the three bars I’d gotten pierced down my length. The contrast had me on the edge right away, and… Maybe now I understood what the allure was.
“Starting to beg so soon?”