Chapter 8
They’ve been together for six months when Sebastian asks him for money.
“Why?” Peter asks. Maybe his question should’ve been how much, because he doesn’t mind and he's rich. His father used to have drinks with Nancy Pelosi once a week, and while he didn’t have her "luck" in the stock market, he still made a fortune that he left to his family.
Anyway, he’s so fucking in love with Sebastian he’d give him anything he wants.
He hasn’t told Sebastian he loves him, but he wants to. He’s afraid it’s going to slip out one of these days. If it weren't utterly ridiculous for an almost thirty-six-year-old man to be in love with a boy barely old enough to drink, but here he is.
“Well, you’re rich, right?” Sebastian asks.
“I guess so,” Peter says and eases a plant out of its pot. They're in Peter’s yard, have been gardening all day, and they’re both ready to take a break.
“You could think of it as financial domination… if you want.” He says it in a way that implies he’s aware Peter might want that. And if he does, Sebastian is okay with it. He’s always interested in finding new ways to turn Peter on.
Sebastian doesn't need any help in that department.
Peter huffs. “Funnily enough, that isn’t something I’ve ever thought about.”
Sebastian stands up and tries to stretch out his back, the long line of his shirt rising and exposing his stomach.
Peter can’t help but stare, always transfixed by the beauty of the young man who has not just inserted himself into Peter’s life and bed but has become everything.
He isn’t sure what he is to Sebastian. He doesn’t want to ask. He just knows that Sebastian is always there. He texts, calls, and shows up. He tells Peter he needs to come or to use him, and then he’s there, and Peter is ready and waiting.
Their relationship hasn’t been defined as more than that. He’s met Sebastian’s friends and even his sister. Which was emotional for everyone. He not only got to see Sebastian cry but had been fucked so hard and well that the memory of it still makes him catch his breath in awe.
Sebastian’s hand slides across his own stomach, shirt lifting and exposing more taut skin.
Because he always knows when Peter is watching him.
“I swear you are the easiest thing,” Sebastian says, and Peter blushes, doesn’t even try to deny that he’s been caught looking.
“Only for you,” he says. It’s cheesy.
The young man moves closer, looks down at him, at where Peter has just finished planting some flowers. He stands too close, foot a few inches from Peter’s hand.
Peter goes still, like a rabbit, making the absolute worst decision for a creature that wants to survive.
Sebastian shifts his weight, foot lifting and turning on its heel, settling gently on Peter’s hand. Deliberate and careful. He presses down, Peter’s fingers sinking into the soft dirt.
It doesn’t hurt, but it’s exciting. There’s a promise of hurt. A possibility. Of disregard, the reminder that he is lesser, literally under Sebastian’s boot.
Sebastian has kept his distance all day long, both of them working, but now his lover is here, groin close to Peter’s face, demanding his attention.
The shift in Sebastian’s intent makes Peter shiver.
He’s always half-hard when Sebastian is around, a constant buzz of want.
And then Sebastian will turn his attention to Peter, and that’s it.
Then Peter can’t think about anything until he’s been used. Which almost always means he comes, too.
Peter whimpers as Sebastian’s dirty jeans brush against his cheek. Relief floods through him. The truth is that he’s happiest when he knows Sebastian wants him.
That is uncomplicated joy.
He turns his head, nuzzles into Sebastian’s groin, nose pressed into his jeans, right at the line where his hip meets his thigh. Peter drags in a breath, wishing he could scent more of him.
Sebastian’s fingers slide into his hair, gently touching him. Soft affection because he’s been good. Just that simple touch is enough to almost undo him. What he feels for Sebastian is terrifying in its intensity. It isn’t just love but obsession and devotion.
He wants to prove himself to Sebastian, wants him to know that his love and devotion are more powerful and pure than anyone else’s ever could be. And that realization has had a weird effect on Peter over the last several weeks. It’s made him almost shy.
Hesitant.
The more he wants Sebastian, the less he reaches for him.
“Please,” he forces himself to whisper. He isn’t even sure if Sebastian can hear it. Why is that so difficult to get out?
“You’re so fucking pretty,” Sebastian says fondly. “What are you thinking, sweetheart?”
He presses a kiss to the inside of Sebastian’s thigh and then to his balls and up the line of his hardening shaft. He rolls his eyes up to meet Sebastian’s, invitation plain.
“Maybe that was a ridiculous question. Sometimes I think I always know what you’re thinking. And usually you’re thinking about how good you want to be for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he says and rubs his face against Sebastian’s dirty jeans.
“Thinking about how much you want me to use you and make you come.”
“Yes,” he says, making eye contact because it’s true and important.
Sebastian grins at him. “How long has it been?”
“Since what?” Peter asks. Is it a trick question?
Sebastian’s fingers clench into a fist. Peter tilts his head back, eyes closing against the prickling pain in his scalp.
“You don’t seem like you’re trying to be disobedient.”
He isn’t. And it takes a minute to even figure out why Sebastian would think that. Oh, it was a genuine question. “How long has it been since I blew you, or since you came in me, or since I came? Or… since you touched me?“ Peter adds. The last one is too quiet. Revealing.
Sebastian laughs. “I’m sure you don’t know the answer to all of those.”
Peter presses his face firmly into Sebastian‘s hip, wanting to hide the flush of shame that is no doubt making him blush madly.
Sebastian’s lust has a heavy slant toward exploitation.
And Peter loves to be exploited and taken advantage of. Which means that Sebastian is wrong.
Peter does know the answer to all of those questions.
He knows down to the minute how long it’s been since Sebastian has done each of those things to him.
It feels like his whole life revolves around the attention he might get from Sebastian.
It’s honestly terrifying how obsessed he is with his young Dominant.
“How long has it been since you blew me?” Sebastian asks, testing him.
“Fifteen hours,” Peter says.
“How long has it been since I fucked you?”
“Seven hours.”
Two hands settle on each side of his face, gently tilting him up so they can make eye contact. “Pretty fucking blush. Why are you keeping that from me?” he asks, but it’s gentle.
Peter tries to shrug, not knowing what to say.
Sebastian brushes a thumb across Peter’s cheek, still staring intensely at him. “Poor thing. I’m getting you dirty,” he murmurs.
“I don’t care,” Peter says. He knows it must be true, both of them covered in dirt and sweat from working in the yard all day.
“You don’t care, do you? How long has it been since I touched you?”
Peter tries to smile, winks to downplay how sincere he is. “Too long.”
He has to keep it vague. Play it off because he will confess if Sebastian asks and that might make things weird, could scare the young man away. He doesn’t want to tell Sebastian that if he doesn’t have Sebastian’s touch on his skin, then he starts to hurt.
Until Sebastian takes him under control again.
“Ask me how much money I want.”
“However much money you want, you can have it,” Peter says, a pulse of arousal going through him. Apparently, he does like the idea of financial domination.
“I want three thousand.”
Peter blinks. He’s tempted to ask what the money is for. He’s curious, of course he’s curious. Is it for school? Because Peter would happily give him more money or pay for his classes.
“Do you want cash or a check?”
“You’re cute. You can Venmo me. Don’t you wanna know what I’m gonna do with it?”
“As long as you’re not in trouble or you don’t need more, then no. I’d… like to know because I like to know everything about you, and I don’t like the idea of you not telling me stuff. I want to be the person you tell things to, but I don’t mind beyond that. I trust you.”
“You trust me?”
“If you say you want money, then I’ll give it to you,” Peter says. And tears fill his eyes. He tries to turn his head.
Sebastian doesn’t let him. He stares, watches the emotions rise and Peter’s attempts to keep them in check.
“Stay like that until I move you,” Sebastian says.
And he lifts his foot off Peter’s hand. He squats down beside him, tilts Peter’s head back with heavy hands, and kisses him hard.
Almost instantly Peter is dizzy with lust. He sighs in relief, lets his mouth be soft and open as Sebastian presses his tongue inside and then bites Peter’s bottom lip.
He’s obsessed with biting Peter’s bottom lip.
“Please,” he whispers, in between biting kisses.
And that makes Sebastian growl, press closer, his hand suddenly under Peter’s shirt, pinching hard at Peter’s nipples and squeezing into the flesh of his pecs.
Peter gasps and makes a sound because he knows Sebastian likes that. If he’s soft and passive and loud in response to Sebastian’s attention, then it makes Sebastian want him more. Makes him rougher, might snap whatever control he has.
Peter loves that. Loves marks and signs of being wanted. Sebastian’s passion on his skin. Maybe Sebastian will just take him here in the dirt, only his spit to ease the way, rutting into Peter like an animal.
He’s waiting for Sebastian to tell him what he wants. It’s been hours and Sebastian is hard. Peter knows he’ll want something. The joy of being with a young man who can come and get hard all the time.
“Goddamn, you make me so fucking hard. Make me come, Peter.”
“In me,” he pleads.