12. Alek #3
I eye him with narrowed eyes. “You’re really going to play it like that? You’re the one who asked for this.”
“I never asked for it to be easy.”
I walk over to the other side of the bed and I grab him by his left arm and pull it up until it’s almost straight. He’s fighting with me slightly.
“If you insist on being such a naughty boy, maybe you deserve more punishment than just being tied up.” I yank his arm with a huff and secure the rope around it until it’s tied enough that I can let it go as I bind him to one poster of the bed.
“Sure you can handle me?” he asks me with a chuckle.
With two large strides and one grab I have his other wrist in my grasp and I’m tying it to the bed with ease. I watch the muscles in his arms stretch and tense as he fights against me but it’s no use.
“You might be stronger than me, but I have the upper hand here,” I remind him. I lean down closer to his face. “I know what you really want.”
“What’s that?” Tommy asks me with a shit-eating grin.
I tangle one of my hands into the top of his hair and pull his head back until his chin is tilted up, and my other hand slides onto his neck.
“You want me to dominate you. Control you. You said so yourself,” I remind him.
He chuckles. “Mm, really?” he plays with me and I look at him with a darkened gaze.
“You’re a little brat, you know that?” I squeeze his throat just enough to feel his pulse throbbing hard underneath my fingers and palm.
He squirms underneath my touch and I feel satisfaction rush through my body straight to my hard length and back up to my face. I wonder if I’m as pinkened as he is.
“You’re blushing, baby boy,” I tell him. He seems to really appreciate my choice of pet name, because his throat feels even hotter underneath my hand.
“You’re blushing,” he spits out at me.
I grip his hair even tighter and listen to him grunt in response.
“You can’t pretend you don’t like it,” I remind him. “It’s written all over your face. All over your body, actually.” I look down his chiseled torso to his groin where his hard dick is twitching against his thigh.
“You’re so hard for me already. What if I denied you pleasure, hm?” I ask him.
He glares at me. “You wouldn’t.”
“I could always leave you here tied up and aching,” I say. “I could leave you here for hours. Wanting, desperate…calling my name and getting nothing in return.”
Tommy squirms even more as I take my hand from his throat and slide it down his chest to his stomach. I push against his stomach slightly and watch as precum leaks from his tip.
“You’re already so worked up,” I mumble.
“You like this too much to quit,” he challenges me.
I debate for a moment, and then pull my knife out of my back pocket.
“You have no idea,” I tell him. “I’m willing to do anything to watch you squirm and beg for your pleasure.”
I take the knife and drag it along his right thigh as I lean over him slightly. Just enough that he’ll feel the blade but not enough to actually cut him. Not yet.
“Anything?” he asks me.
I keep my eyes on his thigh as I reply. “Anything, Tommaso.”
It’s more than I should be admitting, yet I do. I can already imagine the guilt that I’ll feel later. Even after the conversation we had. But I push it down as far as I can. I want to enjoy this moment. As if it’s the last one we’ll have.
Because it very well could be.
The danger of the moment only turns me on more.
“Even…breed me?” he asks, breathless. At the same time, I slice into the soft flesh of his thigh and watch as crimson drips down onto his bedsheets. Feeling his skin buckle and part beneath my hand is so completely satisfying. Hearing him hiss in pain and then exhale in pleasure is even more so.
“Breed you?” I ask him with a chuckle. “Is that what you want?” I ask him lowly.
“You want me to pretend to plant my seed in you, Tommy?” I cut him again, this time on the opposite thigh, right near the cuts from before.
I fight the urge to lean down and lick his blood from his skin. I want it to stain him and the duvet.
Tommy grunts. “Maybe I do.”
I look up at him finally, then down at his ever-hardening cock.
“How pathetic of you,” I tease him.
I lean down until my mouth is just an inch from his length and I breath against him. He shifts his hips up like he expects to be able to slide himself into the warmth velvet of my mouth, but I back up, and simply let my hot breath wash over his pulsing skin.
“Aleksandr…” he moans.
“Hmm, how impatient you are,” I whisper. I cut him again. This time deeper. Deep enough that any more and he would need stitches.
I toss my knife to the side and I press my fingers down into the wound, feeling his blood against my fingertips. Warm, slippery…visceral.
“You bleed so good for me,” I tell him. “Do you like when I cut you?”
Tommy shifts under my touch and his hips grind against the air.
“Y-Yes….Sir,” he says, remembering my honorific without needing to be told.
I can’t resist. I pop those two fingers covered in his blood into my mouth and taste it. Like iron and dirt. I inhale the smell of sex in the room and it only makes the taste more potent.
“Mmm, you taste so good,” I say.
Then, I do exactly as he told me I wouldn’t. I leave the room.
It takes some willpower not to walk right back in the second he notices I’m gone. He groans.
“Alek,” he calls for me.
I lean against the wall beside the doorframe.