21. Verona
21
VERONA
I brought the wooden paddle down on Hollywood’s bare ass and smiled when he bucked against the restraints. A perfect “SLUT” appeared on his flesh due to the outline of the letters carved into the paddle. I had the prettiest man in the MC bent over my spanking bench with a rubber gag in his mouth and bright red imprints all over his bottom and legs.
“Don’t you mark up like a rag doll?” I teased, running my fingertips down the back of his thighs, making him suck in a harsh breath through his nose. He liked the degradation. He liked the bruises. And when he saw this, he’d thank me until the sun rose.
Of course, I had bigger plans for him tonight. He’d been begging me for the strap for weeks now, ever since I had him fill out that checklist and he realized it was an option. Hollywood had been pansexual since I’d known him, and with people who owned a penis, he liked to bottom as much as he liked to top. I understood. There was nothing like being fucked by someone who knew what they were doing, and I definitely did.
I raised the paddle in the air and brought it down again on the fleshy part of his ass, making sure to dig the corner into the softest bits so he’d feel it in the morning. He let out a cry, part joy, part agony, and yanked on the restraints again.
The power gave me a rush. I loved seeing him like this. I loved being the one he trusted to wreak havoc on his body. Never had I felt more like my domme name than when he handed over control.
Mayhem. The thought made me laugh, and I decided when the Beacon reopened, Hollywood would be my beautiful submissive, Matty Mischief. Together, we’d make a complete set.
Dragging my nails up Hollywood’s bruised back, I walked to the front of the spanking bench, where he lifted his head to look at me when I squatted. His eyes were hazed over, indicating how zoned out he’d become during the spanking, and drool dripped over his open mouth, sliding down his chin to make a big puddle on the floor.
“Aww, look at my little slut.” I smeared my fingers under his bottom lip, gathering the sloppy evidence of his rough handling so I could spread it all over his face. “Did you like that?”
He eagerly nodded, widening his eyes at the anticipation of more to come. But I had a surprise for him. I ordinarily wouldn’t do this in the middle of a scene, but I thought he’d appreciate it more that way. He was the one who wanted this arrangement, and now I had the urge to make the D/s part of it official. I didn’t do this to all my submissives, but I was exclusive with Hollywood, at least physically. I wanted him to know how much that meant to me.
I undid the straps around his wrists and unhooked the gag from the back of his head, guiding him up so he could stand. Then, we went across the hallway to my bedroom. I liked to keep scene activities to the dungeon. It separated the part of me that was the mistress from the part that was Verona, but with Hollywood, the two lines had blurred. We liked playing, but we were also something more than that, something that had slowly crept up on me while we spent so much time together.
If I believed in that corny soulmate shit like Ru, I’d say Hollywood and I were as close as any two people might get. He matched me in ways I couldn’t have predicted, and when I thought about the future, more recently I had started to envision him in it.
But that was getting ahead of myself. We had a long road to walk if that was the direction we planned to go. Right now, I focused on sitting him down on the edge of my bed, swallowing back a giggle when he winced at his sore ass.
“I got you a present,” I told him, turning to my dresser so I could retrieve the long piece of metal chain and padlock. When I came back to face him, he flashed a big grin, his eyes lighting up like an excited puppy.
“Is that what I think it is?” He sat up straighter, seeming to hold his neck out.
“It is.” I stood between his knees so I could place the chain-collar around his windpipe and stick the top of the padlock through two loops to secure it in place. It hung down to the scar above his heart, and I tenderly ran a finger along the side of it when I straightened. “I know we didn’t talk about this beforehand, but you marked yes to being collared on your checklist. I hope this is okay.”
“I love it,” he said, running his hands down my arms to gather my hands so he could bring them to his lips. He delicately kissed each knuckle before looking back up at me. “Thank you.”
“Thank you , Hollywood.” In that moment, those words were about more than him acquiescing to whatever I wanted to do to him. It was about him taking a bullet for me. It was about his continued protection, even after he didn’t have to anymore. It was about his friendship and the way he made me laugh and how much he loved my family and everyone in it. Even me ... especially me.
Holy shit.
Chills danced down my spine as realization sank like an anvil in my chest. Hollywood loved me, and maybe ... maybe I loved him. Blinking against the sudden burn in my eyes, I cleared my throat and remembered all the times he’d shown it, even before we started hooking up. He’d pulled me off more strangers at the bar than anyone else. He’d volunteered to look out for me when even my own brothers hadn’t. He’d been there for me time and time again without fail because that was who he was.
I cupped his jaw and tilted his face up so I could press my lips against his, devouring his mouth like it had been made for me. Perhaps it had, just like I’d been made for him. We were perfect together, and in that perfection, we had found the easiest, simplest joy.
“You don’t have to wear it all the time,” I said, coming back to the present, “and definitely not at the garage or around other people, but when we’re in scene?—”
“I’ll wear it for you, V.” He leaned up to kiss me one more time before scooting back on the bed so we could get the rest of the scene going. I knew what he wanted, and he knew what I wanted, and together, we were going to make fucking magic in this bedroom.
I went to my dresser to retrieve the strap-on and the lube, hooking the belt into place. I’d already attached the silicone dildo to the front, where it hung between my legs, ready to be used.
“Remember your safeword,” I told him. “If you want me to stop?—”
“I’ve been dreaming about this since we decided to do it.” Hollywood bit his bottom lip and grinned.
“Hmm.” I crawled onto the bed, leaning over him to so I could give him another kiss before working my mouth down his torso. I dug my teeth into his chest, biting my way to his stomach, relishing the subsequent groan and arch into the touch. When I got to his cock, I met his rapturous gaze while I dribbled spit onto the tip.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth, hissing when I grabbed it between my hands and worked him up and down, squeezing the way that made him moan.
“Do you like that, pretty boy?” Pure unfiltered passion sparked through my blood when he groaned and nodded.
“Yes, Mistress,” he said. “Yes, please.”
“I love when you beg.” Continuing to massage his cock with one hand, I lowered the other to his balls, fondling them enough to make him throw his head back. Then, I went farther back, running a finger over his entrance.
He opened his legs and whimpered, and I loved how responsive he was. I wouldn’t lie and say I’d never done this before. It surprised me to learn how many people enjoyed a good pegging, but I would have never guessed Hollywood Hudson would be spread eagle in my bed one day, desperate for my big purple cock.
I grabbed the lube and dribbled some down his shaft before squirting it in my hand, dousing my fingers and rubbing them over the dildo. Then, I went back to Hollywood, swirling my index digit around his hole, making him spread farther for me.
“There we go. Does that feel good?” I watched in amazement as he nodded and met my eyes.
“More,” he said. “Please, more.”
“You ask so sweetly.” I worked a finger inside him, squirting more lube on my hand so I could get the liquid where it needed to be. Most people thought a little spit on a cock would work before shoving it inside a person’s ass, but this skin was sensitive. It needed coaxing and patience and a heavy hand when it came to lubrication.
I paid special attention to his reactions, replacing one finger with two, finding that special soft spot inside that had him moaning and covering his face with his hands. I kept pumping his cock, working both in time with each other, watching as he rocked into the movement.
“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?” I teased, rubbing over it again.
He bucked his hips, begging for attention. Obviously, I’d been born without a penis, but I imagined someone massaging the prostate while milking the tip was like getting my G-spot pounded while someone played with my clit. So I kept at it, spreading my fingers apart so I could prepare him properly.
“Fuck me, V,” he said, breaking out of our scene in his desperate euphoria. I didn’t mind the slip. His lack of concentration due to my ministrations turned me on. I lined the dildo up at his entrance and pushed inside slowly, easing my way in at a glacial pace. Fucking someone in the ass wasn’t the same as a pussy. One needed to pay attention to their lover, to know when they went too far or too fast, to always have an open line of communication.
Of course, Hollywood had been railed by people with an actual dick, so I wasn’t sure how much caution I really needed to use. Still, once I was flush to his pelvis, I paused to let him adjust.
“Fuckkking hell,” he said, digging his palms into his eyes. But I didn’t like that. I nudged his chin with my nose, forcing him to pull his hands away so I could see his expression.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fucking fabulous,” he said, leaning forward to kiss me. “Keep going. Please keep going.”
Smiling, I sat back on my haunches and lifted his legs in the air so I’d have a better angle to hit his erogenous spot with every thrust. Holding his calves, I pulled out only to surge back in again, reveling in how hard his cock jumped at the intrusion. I loved the way the strap rubbed my clit, amplifying the wanton sensations ricocheting up my spine. I wanted more, so much more.
“Grab your cock, Hudson,” I said. “Get yourself off.”
“I’m not going to last long. I’m sorry.” He wrapped his grip around his dick, squeezing the tip so hard it turned a deeper shade of red.
“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “I’m riding your face after this, no matter what.”
“Oh, shit”—he groaned and curled into himself, slowing his pace—“don’t say things like that.”
“Hmm, don’t tell me what to do,” I said, fucking him faster, finding that magic zone and curling my hips into it so I hit it with every rut.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He stroked himself faster, twisting his features into euphoria. He tightened his muscles around me, curling his toes, arching his back. He threw his head down on the pillow, the veins in his neck protruding while he reached his climax. “I love you, V. Fuck, yes, I love you. I love you.” He repeated those three words while he spurted all over me and himself, and I memorized every last moment: the bead of sweat sliding down the side of his head, the tension in his body as he released, the way he gasped for air like I’d literally stolen the oxygen out of his lungs.
It mesmerized me.
And then, I realized what he’d been confessing.
He loved me?
Of course he loved me. I’d recognized it earlier. And I loved him, too. I did. I had loved him my entire life, and now, I was fairly certain I was in love with him. I sat there with my dildo in his ass while he panted and stared up at me with adoration radiating out of his eyes—like I was in living color and he’d only ever seen black and white.
It was intoxicating, having a powerful man stare at me like this, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was subspace taking him over.
Except, I did know better, and it was real.
“I love you, too,” I said, leaning over him to plant a kiss on his perfect mouth.
“I want to move in,” he mumbled, his speech slightly slurred as he fought off the comedown.
I laughed and gave him another kiss, easing myself out of him before grabbing the towel on the nightstand to wipe him clean. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“I’m here almost every night anyway.” Hollywood bit his bottom lip. “Wheels can move out and get on with his life.”
“Wheels is happy to get out of his mother’s house, I assure you.” I made a half-hearted chuckle. “Besides, I like it just being you and me for right now.”
His features dropped, and he licked his lips like he had something terrible on his mind, and not in a good way.
“Bear found out about us,” Hollywood said, and suddenly, everything warm and gushy about this moment came to a screeching halt. “I admitted it to him.”
“What?” My chest tightened and my stomach churned. It wasn’t like I was worried about Bear’s reaction, especially if Hollywood had made it out of the conversation alive. No, something more sinister and shameful brewed deep in my gut. I didn’t want people to know because, despite how much I loved Hollywood, despite how much fun I was having, I still didn’t trust that this wouldn’t implode around me one day ... that I’d wake up and find him gone for good.
“He already knew,” Hollywood said, pushing up on his elbows to look down his body at me. “Ru suspects, too. After the Viper, everyone’s got an idea. We wouldn’t have been able to keep it quiet for much longer.”
I pushed off the bed and clenched my hands into fists, trying to swallow down the rising tide of my temper. “I didn’t know we were at a place where we were telling people.”
“They already knew. Honestly, we haven’t been that great about being discreet, or have you forgotten how you got up in Chelsea’s face at the clubhouse?” He furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes, gripping his hand over the padlock on his chest. “What’s the big deal? I thought ... I thought you were in this with me.”
“I am,” I said, wincing as I went to the bathroom to wash my hands. Hollywood climbed off the bed to follow me.
“I love you. You love me, too.” He sounded more wounded than frustrated, like I’d reached inside his chest and clamped my fingers around his heart. He only waited for me to yank it out and eat it in front of him.
“I do, Hollywood.” I turned to face him and brushed my hair out of my face, trying to figure out how to best explain the sudden tightness inside my body. It wasn’t that I didn’t care for him, and I certainly didn’t want to hurt him (not like this), but I had a hard time admitting to myself that this would last, that he was in it for the long haul. He held my emotions so tenderly in his hands, and he could squash me like a bug. I feared that if he did, if I put too much emphasis on him and this only for it to blow up in my face, I could relapse into a deep depression again. Hollywood had the power to ruin me in ways he likely didn’t realize. “It’s just ... I’m not sure where this is going, and until I am ...”
He dropped his jaw and took a step back, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You do have a history of leaving a trail of broken hearts behind you,” I said, grimacing as it came out more demeaning than I’d meant it. “And I don’t trust anyone. I don’t like people knowing my private life. Anyone who gets close to me either destroys me or ends up in a grave.”
“Oh, and you suppose I’ll either leave you or die, is that it?” His voice grew louder, and it was the first time in all the years I’d known him that I’d ever seen Hollywood so upset. Normally, he faced everything with a smile. He had a laugh and a joke on his lips for every situation. To see his eyes redden with tears, to hear the sudden heartache and disappointment in his voice, it plucked at my self-loathing and made me feel worse.
“No, that’s not what I mean,” I said, the scar on my chest burning to life as he backed away from me and grabbed his boxers from the floor, shoving his legs into them before yanking them up his hips. It was like seeing a train wreck happening in front of me and knowing someone had to pump the brakes, but my foot was lodged on the gas.
“I thought we treated each other the way we deserved,” he said, his voice breaking. “I thought you wanted me. Or was that all just horseshit?”
“No, it wasn’t,” I said, trying to smooth this over. “But Christ, we’ve only been doing this for a few weeks.”
“Fine.” He nodded his head and grabbed his jeans off the floor, sliding them on. Then he slipped his shirt over his arms and head. “Look, I have to go do a run for the club. I’ll be gone most of the day tomorrow. Think about what you want ... what you really want ... and we’ll talk when I get back.”
In a rare twist of how we’d started this, Hollywood threw my own words in my face. He moved toward the door, but I caught his arm, trying to pull him back, trying to stop the damage I’d already done.
No, no, no. In my desperation to save myself, I’d probably ruined one of the best things I’d ever had. My eyes burned as tears streamed over them, dripping down my cheeks. I didn’t want to rush things with him, I didn’t want him to hurt me, but likewise, I didn’t want this to end. “Are you breaking this off with me?”
“No, V,” he said, his voice softening as he ran the back of his knuckles down my cheeks, wiping away the visible signs of my idiotic words. “But I’m not gonna be someone’s dirty little secret. Not anymore. Being with you ... it makes me want more than that. I thought you wanted that, too.”
“And how am I supposed to know you’re not going to hurt me?” I could barely form the words, the thought of losing this new amazing thing too overwhelming.
“Well, that’s on you,” he said, leaning forward to gently kiss my forehead. “I guess you’re gonna have to learn to trust me .”
With that, he grabbed his boots and he walked out of my house, the quiet snick of the door behind him rattling through my body.