Chapter 11 #2
Sebastian holds out a hand, misunderstanding.
“Wait. Careful, sweetheart. You have red. Don’t forget.
You can say red or you can throw that note in the fire and we won’t go further.
We’ll just keep having a conversation and then I’ll take you to bed and keep you there for as long as you’ll let me.
But it’s your birthday and I’ve got a plan and presents. Do you want to know what my plan is?”
“Presents?” Peter repeats and is immediately swamped with shame at how much he wants presents and to be special.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Because it’s your birthday. I want to take care of you and give you what you need, don’t I?”
“I don’t know. This is too much. Maybe we shouldn’t.”
Sebastian frowns. “This is what I want for you. Aren’t you mine?”
“Yes, but—“
“Then be mine. I want a good boy. This weekend, that’s what I need from you. I need you to take off your clothes by the fire and then kneel at my feet. I’m waiting, sweetheart.”
“I can’t do this. I’m a grown man—“
“Not tonight. Tonight you’re Hodge. You’re stranded in the middle of nowhere.
You’re wet and shivering and you need to get undressed.
You’ve had too much to drink. I’ve plied you with alcohol.
You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.
I won’t let you. I’m going to have you because I’m rich and a very bad man. ”
Peter swallows hard. A very bad man. “What do bad men do with poor, stranded men?” Peter asks. He intends the question to be a joke. It comes out too strangled and earnest for that.
Peter has to decide now. Stay or go. Throw the note in the fire or not. “I’m not trying to be difficult. I swear. I just—”
“Shh. I know. Let me show you.” Peter goes closer, heart pounding. Sebastian smiles at him. “Shirt off. It’s cold. You’re damp.”
“Was there ever going to be a party with people?” Peter asks, and if the answer is yes, then he’ll say red. Maybe not forever but for now. He is scared and it’s too much. But if Sebastian says no, if Sebastian knew him that well, then…
“No, honey. You’d have hated that,” Sebastian says.
Peter’s fingers tremble and he fumbles the buttons. There is so much emotion now and he has no idea what to do with all of it.
“Beautiful, sweetheart. Pants now,” he says.
Peter toes off his shoes and undoes his pants. He takes them off with his underwear, removes his socks, and puts the whole pile of clothes on the couch. He comes back over to Sebastian, kneels on the fur rug, and puts a hand on Sebastian’s leg.
“Good boy. It’s in my pocket. Go ahead now,” he says.
Peter pushes up to his knees and moves between Sebastian’s legs.
He reaches a hand up to Sebastian’s jacket and slides his hand inside the fabric.
Sebastian captures his hand. “If you like the present, you’re to say, ‘Thank you, Sebastian.’ If you don’t want it, then you tell me, ‘No, thank you.’ It’s fine either way. This is a bit of a gamble.”
He sets Peter's hand on the chair’s arm and lets go, tension in his hand. Peter's not used to seeing Sebastian tense.
Peter reaches into his pocket. Metal, warmed from Sebastian’s body, grazes his fingers. He knows what it is. He knows exactly what it is. He hesitates, staring at Sebastian’s lap.
“How did you know?” Peter whispers.
“Know what?”
“That I… want this.”
“Because you told me. I listened. I’ve been with you. I pay attention to my boy and what he likes.”
Peter holds it in his hands, careful, as if it’s delicate and breakable. Exactly what he’ll be when he’s wearing it. “Would you put it on me?”
“I’d be honored,” Sebastian says, and Peter spreads his thighs, watches with breath held as Sebastian slips down from the chair to be next to him.
“We’ll take care of this first, baby,” he says, and he jerks Peter off perfunctorily. He’s stripping his cock hard and fast. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief, has it ready to catch Peter’s come.
For some insane reason that drags Peter to the edge, ramping up his desire.
“I’m gonna come,” he gasps, staring at the cloth.
“Of course you are. Doesn’t take more than a minute, does it, baby? Anything I do makes you hard, has you needing to come. There—” he says, just as Peter tumbles over the edge.
He holds Peter in his hand until he’s soft then gathers up his cock and balls and feeds them through the loops of the cage.
Sebastian stops before clicking the lock, pats his pocket again. “Just wanted to make sure,” he says.
Peter bites his lip but says nothing. The idea of there being no key is one that excites him more than it should.
The lock clicks. Peter gasps at the sensation.
“Thank you.” He wants to tell Sebastian that he loves him.
That gets him a kiss, hard and biting as he’s pressed down to the rug and on his back. “Good boy. Fuck, it’s perfect for you, isn’t it?” he asks and fondles Peter roughly.
Peter yelps and arches, tries twisting away from Sebastian.
Sebastian presses him down again and Peter goes with another gasping yelp, shocked at Sebastian’s strength.
Sebastian grins at him. “Go on, honey. Struggle. Pretend you don’t want it.
We both know you do,” he says, and Peter obeys, wanting to lose.
He shoves at Sebastian but Sebastian snarls and pushes back.
They roll across the floor and Sebastian gets him pinned, Peter’s arms giving out, unable to maintain the fight for longer than a second. That’s how much he wants to lose.
“Please, I need you,” he whispers, stunned.
“I think you need to get fucked. I need to fuck you.” Sebastian fumbles with his pants, biting at Peter’s neck as he gets his cock out.
He pushes back, manhandles Peter’s thigh up and open, and pulls a lube shooter from his pocket.
He’s quick about it, wetting Peter down inside and tossing it aside.
“Be a good boy now,” he says through gritted teeth and then he’s pressing into Peter, opening him, and it’s been long enough that Peter is tight. He whimpers, struggles, uses all his strength to throw Sebastian back from him and gets to his belly, feebly trying to crawl away.
Sebastian is on him immediately, cock shoved deep, and Peter collapses.
“Yes, please,” he whimpers as Sebastian fucks him, rutting hard and grunting with each thrust. Brutal, feral, just as Peter likes it best. “More,” he whispers again and again, and then Sebastian comes deep inside him, grinding the last of his orgasm as deep as he can get.
He lies on Peter for a long moment before rolling to the side.
“And I don’t get to… I can’t—oh god,” Peter whispers as he sees the truth of it on Sebastian’s face. Peter won’t come. He’s locked up in a cage. He can feel it now. The pressure and ache, the denial.
“No, honey. You don’t need that. That’s for daddy. You’re just my good boy. The denial will keep you sweet. Make sure you know your place. Isn’t that right?”
Peter cuddles close, trying to open Sebastian’s clothes, needing to be close to him. Sebastian lets Peter strip him, each article of clothing expensive and finely tailored. “Fuck, this is an amazing suit,” Peter whispers. “Wear this always. Please.”
Sebastian laughs. “I thought you’d like that. But not this much.”
Peter ducks his head.
When Sebastian is naked, Peter curls close, kissing him endlessly, and then climbs on top of him, whimpering at the weight of the cage, the tightness and building frustration as he takes Sebastian inside him again.
“God. It feels like I’m in heat.”
“I bet.” Peter rides him slowly, feeling Sebastian inside of him, enjoying the sensation and wanting it to last. He starts to get hard and that’s agony. Exciting and miserable at once.
“Fuck,” Peter gasps and starts playing with the cage as he rides Sebastian.
Sebastian grabs his pec and squeezes, flicks at Peter’s nipple and plays with his tits as Peter works Sebastian. Tears come all too quickly as the frustration of his own arousal and the reality that he won’t come settle in his mind.
And that makes Sebastian everything, focuses Peter’s love and attention. His devotion.
“Hands and knees,” Sebastian says through gritted teeth and urges Peter off him. Peter is dragged into position and then Sebastian is fucking him, cage swinging painfully, and Peter doesn’t even try to stop the small, mewling noises that come from his throat.
He’s filled up with come and ordered to stay on his hands and knees until Sebastian softens enough to slip out. He tells Peter not to move and gets a plug from somewhere, sinking it into Peter’s sore hole. He gets Peter to his feet and leads him naked from the room.
“The house is empty. Ours for the weekend. In case you were wondering.” They go up the stairs and to a grand bedroom where there’s another fire. They climb into bed and Peter snuggles close, pressing his denied cock against Sebastian’s thigh.
“Fuck, it feels so awful. I love it.”
“Good,” Sebastian says, kissing him on the head.
Sebastian reaches under the pillow for a black velvet box. He hands it to Peter. Peter sits up and opens it. A gold collar, chain link and heavy. “Sebastian,” he whispers.
“Now this I paid for,” he says. “I just had to. You can’t buy your own fucking collar. I’ve never put a collar on someone,” he says, and a flash of something spills over his face—surprise? Fear?
“What’s wrong?” Peter asks.
“Nothing. It’s just a big deal to me. And I’m glad it’s you. I can’t believe it’s you. Can’t believe we haven’t done this already. You’re mine. When I don’t see you for a few days, it feels like I’m losing my mind.”
“You’ve seen me just about every day since we got together.”
Sebastian frowns again. “I’m sure there have been many days we’ve been apart.”
There aren't. He can see Sebastian thinking. “Well, fuck. I really am just obsessed with you, aren’t I?”
Sebastian takes the necklace from the box and secures it around Peter's neck. The metal is cold and heavy. Protective. Peter gets up to look in the mirror.
“I love it. Oh my god, it’s incredible.” He’s going to tell Sebastian he loves him. He returns to the bed, takes a breath in to steady himself.
Sebastian puts his hand over Peter’s mouth. Their gazes meet. “Hold on a minute, honey. I’m not done yet.” His look is fond. “I love you, Peter. I want you to know that.”
He takes Sebastian’s hand away. “That’s what I was going to say!”
“You still can.”
“Do you? Really?”
“Of course I do. How could I not love you?” He waits. “Did you have something to say?”
Peter looks him up and down. “Make me.”
“My pleasure.”