Chapter 4 #5
The gleam in Roy’s eyes, the faint moisture on his lips, translated the words in DJ’s head.
So I can punish you for that.
“If he really wants to have me as his Master,” Roy continued, “he earns that privilege by convincing me of his commitment to it. Not just for the duration of a session, or a mutually enjoyable hookup at a club.”
“You can work, eat and do basic math, knowing your sub is doing that for you?” He’d be thinking of Roy all the damn time, which DJ guessed was the point.
Roy’s eyes warmed, appreciating him. “I could. Maybe he can’t. Not at first, not until he works at it. That’s something to think about. Your job is important to you, your creative energy.”
DJ could imagine the songs he’d create in such a sexually frustrated state. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please please please...
It would be a hit with the teens, getting a double shot of the coveted Explicit rating on the download sites.
“You’d like knowing he’s in that state, for you,” DJ said slowly.
“Yes. Very much.” That gray steel showed another flare of heat.
To win Roy’s approval for working that hard to please him would be worth a lot. Boys raised without fathers were prone to traps like that. DJ was self aware enough to know it was a weakness. But this wasn’t a trap. It was an offer, a reward. Something he found himself wanting to earn.
“I care for my subs, Dory.” Roy touched his mouth with a firm thumb, fingers whispering over DJ’s throat before he took the touch away. “Though I might want that kind of devotion, I wouldn’t ask that of them if it interferes with their career. But when we share time off together, I’d demand it.”
Roy hadn’t said he would seek that with DJ, but the very fact he volunteered the info made DJ think he’d made some headway.
Roy rose and took a seat in the chair, offering DJ a hand to help him stand in front of him. “Zip up your jeans.”
As he did, Roy gripped his hips, steadying him until he was sure DJ could stay upright on his own. Then he sat back, stretching his legs out on either side of DJ.
“Is where I pinched you still sore?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Put your finger on it, outside the jeans.”
When he did, Roy brushed his hand away and stroked over the spot with his knuckles, then put some pressure on it, letting DJ feel the twinge. He wanted more of the same from those fingers.
Roy sat back again. How he looked at DJ, the erection pressing against denim, said he wanted way more than to look. Yet Roy staying hands-off proved how in control he was. He’d mastered himself, like the money clip said. But when it was time, how did he let himself off the leash?
“If you’d had me now,” DJ ventured, “how would you have done it?”
“‘Had you.’ I like that.” Roy’s gaze lifted above him.
DJ saw a bolt in the ceiling, a doubled-up chain dangling from it.
“I would have dropped the chain down and attached your tied wrists to it. Your arms would be above your head, but I’d bring you to me where I’m sitting, put your legs on my shoulders, sit you down on my cock and shove it into you until I came. ”
His voice dropped to a rumble, his eyes holding DJ in a grip as tight as the cock strap.
“I’d keep you in that position for a while afterward and then, if it’s what I wanted to see and I thought you’d earned it, I’d make you kneel in front of me, grip your cock and come on command, splattering the floor between my feet.
If you got any on my shoes, you’d lick it off. ”
DJ’s throat had gone too dry to respond, but Roy wasn’t looking for a response. His gaze dropped. “You do know how to work shirt buttons, don’t you?”
DJ rallied enough to give him a taunting half smile. “Would you prefer not to see my chest, Sir?”
Roy tugged on his belt loop, a mild reproof and tease at once. DJ liked all of this, but he wasn’t going to let the earlier topic stand unchallenged.
“I don’t know about the other Dom thing. I want you, Roy.”
“I’ll be there. Watching over you. It’s my job.”
“But what if I say I don’t want to do that?”
“That’s your right. I won’t set it up.”
Was it possible… The light dawned. It was like the coming without permission thing.
If there were certain things Roy required of a person who wanted to be a sub to him, proof that it wasn’t non-specific Dom-fantasizing would be one of them.
It was like finding out if a virgin really liked the object of their attentions, or if it was just a desire for sex.
If he was right, it burned in his heart, his gut, that Roy didn’t think he knew his own heart and mind. All while Roy was so close, his gaze telling DJ how much he wanted him.
Roy wanted him. And not just as a passing lust thing, like seeing a random ass on the street. DJ had that knowledge, that power. Whether Roy was acknowledging it or not, they were taking steps toward Roy ‘having’ him.
“You’re setting terms,” DJ said.
Roy’s expression hardened. “You have the right to agree or walk away. You’re spun up right now. I get it. Take some time to think about it. I’ll abide by your wishes, Dory. You’re not interested in that option, that’s fine.”
“One condition while I think about it. One kiss.”
Roy scoffed. “You think you can make demands of me?”
“No. I feel like I can’t walk out of this room without some sense of…I don’t know. Intimacy. Right now, the way you’re talking, I feel sort of…bereft. Alone.”
Until he’d said it out loud, he hadn’t understood the not pleasant feeling growing in his gut, but that was it.
Roy’s expression darkened, but DJ saw him recognize that he wasn’t bullshitting, and DJ’s state of mind mattered to him.
Considering the direction of the conversation, that felt both good and shitty.
His heart lurched as Roy nodded. “Kneel, Dory. Between my feet. Put your hands behind your back, like I’ve tied them there with my belt. ”
When DJ obeyed, Roy looked down at him, a slow, pulsing regard that built DJ’s anticipation.
When he leaned forward and cupped his face, he rested his thumbs against DJ’s throat to tip up his chin and control the movement.
He put his mouth against DJ’s, a slow, rubbing caress, before his tongue slid between DJ’s parted lips and began to explore.
He’d never been kissed like this. Not ever. Roy’s grip tightened so much DJ felt blood pound through his carotid and his head got a little fuzzy. Behind his back, his hands clawed each other, holding on so he didn’t reach for Roy. Roy stroked DJ’s hair, the corners of his eyes, his cheeks.
His mouth had never felt so alive, his whole body gripped in the power of something…transcendent. He wasn’t being dramatic. He was literally being changed by what Roy stirred to life with one kiss. He made a tiny noise in Roy’s mouth and got an answering murmur, a reassurance and demand at once.
Submit.
Yes.
When Roy broke the kiss, he gave DJ’s throat one last possessive squeeze before he sat back, his legs still stretched out to hold DJ in their secure boundary. When DJ pulled himself together, he lifted his gaze to meet Roy’s.
“No other Dom, Roy,” DJ said. Yes, I’ll submit. But only to you.
“You don’t set the terms.” Roy’s jaw set with the reminder. “I do. Let me know what you decide.”
“I just did.”
Gray eyes held brown, a silent tug of war. Then Roy’s expression went smooth and impassive. “That’s that, then. If you change your mind, let me know.”