Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Harmon
Each day that passes, it gets harder to control my needs with Cassius. But the inability to control your own impulses proves you are a weak man. I am not a weak man—I refuse to be.
Maybe it’s wrong to keep him around to prove how controlled I can be, but it isn’t the only reason. And that’s why it’s so easy to convince myself to not end this.
I have no issue paying upfront for six months if his services were discontinued.
It’s not about money… it’s about no longer having this.
Him. Not only at my every beck and call but in my home.
My large, empty home that is so quiet I hear it settling.
My home that is so big I sometimes get lost in it.
My home that is… lonely. Except when he’s here.
Just a few hours a day makes it that much easier to get by.
So, I keep praising him. I keep writing out schedules.
I wash his uniform and lay it out on the bed for him…
most days. I read to him. Have him stand naked for me.
And each day, I push him a little more, give him a little more to do, to see how well he can actually handle my needs.
He’s due to be in front of me in less than two minutes, and I can’t concentrate because all I can think about is him knelt before me. He sits so pretty, so perfectly.
His footsteps are soft on the floor when he walks in, as quiet as a mouse.
I’d like to think it’s the training, but I have a feeling it’s something else.
Something trauma-related. The need to be quiet.
I don’t like thinking of what he’s dealt with in his life—it’s clear he hasn’t had an easy life—because it makes me angry.
I shouldn’t care about his personal life, yet thinking about him hurting in any way doesn’t feel good.
It’s not supposed to be this way. That’s why the contract is there. It’s why there are boundaries.
I give him a soft smile as he walks to his spot and gently kneels on the floor beside the couch. I reach out to run my fingers through his soft hair.
“You did well today,” I tell him.
“Thank you.”
“Of course, slave.”
I hear the hitch in his breath, see the way his lips part. I told him I wasn’t into degradation, and I’m not… but maybe he is. Or maybe he likes praise in any fashion. It doesn’t seem like something readily available to him.
“I thought we could read,” I say.
“I’d like that.”
Nodding, I grab the book and open it to chapter five, but I don’t start right away.
“How are you liking this so far?”
“We do our check-ins on Saturdays.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t—or won’t—check in other times too.”
He licks his bottom lip, his eyes focused on me. “I like it just fine.” His voice is raspy.
“Are you sure?”
“Very.” He nods. “I look forward to coming here.”
“Is that so?” He nods again. “Why is that?”
Shifting, he looks away, deciding on something before looking back at me. “My home life isn’t great. It’s stressful. Here, I can let go.”
“That is a perk of being my slave. Or a submissive in general.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’m a submissive…”
“Oh no? Because I’d say you’re a perfect submissive.”
His brow furrows, and he looks confused.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I add.
“I know. It’s just that… I take care of everything at home. I’m the one in charge—in control. All the time.”
“It’s usually those who are forced to be in control that need the release most.”
His brow furrows even deeper. “How do you mean?”
“Well, if you’re in control so much at home, in ways that aren’t your choice, but maybe obligation, it becomes overwhelming. Having a safe place to let go, where you can trust someone to take that control from you, it’s a release. It makes you feel better. Like I said… therapy.”
“I…” Blinking, his eyes go unfocused, then he says, “Yeah. That makes sense, I guess. When you explain it like that. But… then why are you okay being in control all the time?”
I love it when he asks questions; love that he wants to learn. His interest pleases me.
“When I am in control, I am composed. Stable. It keeps the… sharper parts of me contained. Order keeps me level. Chaos doesn’t.
Having someone else to take care of, it gives me purpose…
a reason. The unknown, the unpredictable…
” I shake my head. “I don’t do well with that.
” I smile fondly at him. “But I bet you thrive in chaos, and that’s the difference. ”
He huffs a small laugh. “You’re right. I’m always putting out fires, and that’s when I’m doing my best.”
“I think you’re doing your best all the time. You give one hundred and ten percent, always. I see that in you.”
“I try.”
“Stand,” I tell him softly, and wait until he does. “Come around the back of the couch. I’d like a shoulder massage while I read to you.”
My gaze goes to his ass as he moves around to the back of me. I glance up at him, noting how he towers over me like this, a position we aren’t typically in.
“Let me guess,” I say. “You’ve never done this before.”
He holds out his hands, fingers spread. “Actually, I’m very good at this. I have two sisters, and they both say I have magic hands.”
I chuckle. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
I pick up the book and begin to read as his hands come down on my shoulders. I’ve touched him a lot, but there hasn’t been a time when his hands have been on me like this.
I’ve officially stated to him that training is over, but I am still moving slowly with him.
I don’t want to push him too hard and then push him away.
Besides, I haven’t done this in a while either, and I’m fine easing back into it.
Things are good the way they are, there’s no need to rush.
I’m doing what feels right for both of us.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
I read slowly from the book about Mr. Darcy being judged for being too proud. Charlotte sticks up for him. Elizabeth pushes back. This chapter is a shorter one, but it’s important for the story. All the while, Cassius works skilled fingers into my shoulders, and my tension sheds away.
“We should do this every day,” I say, closing the book when the chapter is done.
“I wouldn’t have an issue with that,” he adds. “Let’s add it to the schedule.”
“Oh, are you making the schedule now?” I glance up at him again, raising an eyebrow.
“I’d put lots of fun stuff on there.”
I gesture with a jerk of my head to his spot. “Kneel and tell me of this fun stuff.”
Lingering a moment, his hands finally fall from me, and he comes back around the couch to kneel.
“Go on,” I urge, taking in his slightly pink cheeks. He was either worked up while touching me, which is something I shouldn’t be thrilled about, or he’s nervous about telling me his thoughts.
“There would be no uniform every day.”
“But you look so good with it on.”
“You look at me differently when it’s off,” he says so seriously, catching me off guard. “We would read every day. I’d give you a massage. I liked you shaving me. And, uh… I’d cum on your food every day.”
“You like that, do you?” I ask, tugging on my pants to loosen the area around my erection.
“Very much.”
“What else?”
“Maybe you would pet me more.”
His cheeks get real pink now.
“Are you embarrassed that you like that?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“Move your mat here.” I gesture to the spot closer to my feet. “Come closer to me.” It takes him only a few seconds to do as I ask, and I tap my thigh. “Rest your head here.” Cassius places his head on my thigh. “Get comfortable. Rest your arm up here, if you need to.”
He moves around a bit until he gets into a comfortable position where he’s leaning against the couch, while his head is resting on my thigh.
I brush my fingers through his hair, running my finger along his ear, down his neck, along his shoulder, then back to his hair.
I shift around, letting his head lay better across my lap so he doesn’t wake with a stiff neck.
His breathing slows, eyelids flutter. He melts against me.
I should wake him… but I don’t.
I run my fingers along his jaw, stopping beneath his full bottom lip. I brush the underside, wondering what they feel like.
What would it be like to kiss someone like Cassius Carr? Someone who is so freely himself? Who is so full of energy and life and not giving a fuck?
My heart rate slows. My nerves dissipate. Time passes. The clock ticks get slower and slower.
My eyes flick open and I look around the empty, quiet room, then down at the man still resting on my lap. His snores are soft, hardly heard over the crackling of the electric fireplace. I blink a few times, then check the time on my watch.
12:51 am.
Well past the time he should have gone, and I should have been in bed. Still, I can’t help but look down at Cassius, his lips slightly parted, eyelashes spread along his cheeks. He is beautiful, much more beautiful than he thinks.
I should wake him, tell him that he should get home and go to sleep. I so badly want to take him upstairs to my room, but that is far beyond a bad idea.
Brushing my knuckles along his cheek, I revel in the few more seconds I have before he wakes. His eyes peel open. Confusion dims his eyes, but then recognition hits. He sits up, looking around the room the same as I did.
“What time is it?”
“Nearly one in the morning.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” I get up and offer him my hand. He takes it and gets to his feet, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“Would you like help with that?” I offer.
“No, I’m good.”
Nodding, I say, “You can stay in your room tonight, if you’d like. If you don’t want to make the drive home.”
“Thank you, but I told Chrissy—uh, I told my sister I’d bring her to school in the morning.”
We both know that’s not the reason he’s not staying. He could wake in the morning and still take her.
“That’s probably for the best,” I say, knowing it’s the truth and hating it. “Do you need anything before you go?”
“I’m good. Thank you.”
“Go change. Head home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nods, giving me a tired smile. I leave the room and head upstairs to bed, where I don’t sleep a wink.