5. Jaime
FIVE
jaime
I really was doing this.
Apparently.
“Of course you have a playroom.” I huffed.
Did it make me angry that he had one? Nope, but combined with the contract thing I should seriously ask more about, it gave off too much of a Christian Grey vibe for my liking. However, my stupid libido seemed perfectly happy to ignore it, so I kept my mouth shut.
It was a good playroom. That part annoyed me more. It wasn’t too big, and thankfully it wasn’t gaudy at all. If I’d walked inside and seen textured red wallpaper or velvet anything, I’d have hightailed it out of there, libido be damned. But… it was nice. Cozy. It reminded me of a couple of the rooms at Plumas, actually—mostly wooden, with some touches in black leather. A bed stood in the middle of the room. A simple one. I liked the ones with the four posts, but not outside of a main bedroom. They took over the entire space otherwise. This didn’t even look like a bed he slept in, just a soft place for aftercare.
I approved.
There wasn’t a lot of scary shit on display, either. I wasn’t the type who cared a lot if there was, and I knew some of the people in our group were all about intimidating everyone who stepped into their space. I still preferred subtlety. There were just a few chests of drawers placed against the walls. And a spanking bench.
A shiver ran down my spine as I walked closer. It wasn’t the first bench I’d seen up close, but my brain picked this moment to remind me of those spankings I’d seen him dole out.
“What are you thinking, pup?”
Fuck.
I’d missed him walking inside the room. I whirled around. No idea what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. Despite the loose clothing—and the fact that my presence unnerved him—he looked the same as I’d always known him at the club. Collected. In control.
He said I was the one running hot and cold, but he was doing something similar here. I just didn’t know why the tug-of-war was pulling me closer. It should be driving me away. Subs were supposed to look for D-types who had their shit together at all times, who had all the answers and made all the plans.
But I liked that I could tease with holding the reins—that I could make him nervous and leave him flustered. It energized me.
“I’m not signing a contract. Or writing one.” I wrinkled my nose. “Or any of that bullshit you straights apparently do.”
Technically, it wasn’t what I was thinking, but I wasn’t about to show all my cards this early on. And him being nervous might not be a turnoff, but the whole contract thing definitely was.
Tony just grinned. I didn’t like the look of it or the idea that I’d given him any kind of ammo. “I thought we’d established I’m not straight.”
I took a step closer. My body vibrated, as if it was still debating fight or flight or staying put and seeing what would happen. “Stop behaving like it then.”
Was it the best taunt I could come up with?
No. It made Tony take another step, though. I wasn’t sure he was completely aware of what he was doing, but I didn’t care. He moved one hand to the back of my neck and squeezed. My eyes rolled to the back of my head.
I shouldn’t be this easy.
I didn’t care enough to do anything about it.
“Get on the bed, pup.” The words contradicted the sharper tone in his voice. The smallest moan escaped me. Forcing my eyes to focus on him revealed lips tilted downward in a sneer. I shivered. “And stop with the sass. Last I checked, pups don’t speak.”
“Woof.”
I grinned. Pups didn’t speak, but they barked—and they could be opinionated, too. Tony wasn’t new. Surely, he knew the kind of chaos a mischievous pup could wreak. I was happy to show him, too. Starting by going on all fours. Cece huffed at me when I went on all fours without knee pads or anything else—something about how I complained later and I’d brought it all down on myself. I didn’t care. I wasn’t good at keeping consequences in mind.
Tony let me get on all fours. He circled around me, and I tracked his movements. It was easy to see he wanted to correct me, to get me to stay completely still. He was welcome to tell me, but perhaps he wasn’t as collected and put together as he was posturing to be. A thrill ran through me. I liked that he was still nervous, that he was buying himself time the way newbie Domms did.
“Bed, pup.”
“Woof!”
The chinos I wore weren’t the most elastic, but the bed wasn’t super tall, and I was the best climber.
I’d show him that, too.
I even managed to make the move graceful.
One glance back revealed Tony gawking at my ass. I wiggled in place.
The duvet was softer than it looked. I must’ve been right when I thought this place was intended for aftercare. But just to be sure, I rolled around the thing.
It was important to get all the facts right.
Yep.
Soft as a cloud.
I was on my back, legs and arms bent, when Tony stopped by the edge of the mattress. I wiggled some more. Belly rubs were the best, but I didn’t know that he knew, and speaking was not an option.
I frowned. Would he understand if I barked long enough?
“Do you have a puppy name?”
Two barks. I frowned. That was what he wanted to ask? Ugh.
I didn’t want to talk about puppy names or my thoughts on puppy play. Sure, maybe I should’ve done it prior to climbing on the softest bed in history , but now I just wanted belly rubs. And leg humping. Preferably in that order, but I wasn’t picky.
I could be reasonable.
“All right. Scoot then.”
Ooooooh .
Yes. Scooting led to him climbing on the bed and then giving belly rubs. Right? Right. That made sense. It was logical or whatever.
Logic sucked.
It was necessary, but it sucked.
Okay, I could behave—and scoot. Kind of. I wasn’t going to sit or do anything like that when I was so comfortable. It was called survival skills.
Or something.
“Woof!”
What? He’d already gotten on the bed—hogging more than half of it, mind you, with his back against the wall—and I didn’t have belly rubs yet.
Something wasn’t adding up.
“What do you want, pup?”
Fine. I’d do it all myself.
If I sighed forlornly as I moved to sit on my haunches? We wouldn’t talk about it.
Moving so that I was straddling his thigh was easy enough. Grabbing his hand while keeping eye contact and my own hands curled into fists—because puppies didn’t have opposable thumbs, obviously—was just as easy too. I was nothing if not a resourceful pup.
Then I moved his arm to my belly. He didn’t apply any resistance. His hand only shook the tiniest bit when it connected with my body.
“What are you—” Tony swallowed. “Do you want?—”
“Woof!”
I could be impatient.
My impatience must’ve sent the message across. Tony’s eyes widened before his muscles unclenched.
“You want belly rubs? Is that it?”
He must’ve seen me ask for plenty of those at the club. Well, I didn’t usually ask like this—I was supposed to be an alpha pup, dammit. But I had bad days, too. Bad judgement days required an extra dose of belly rubs to make up for the bad judgement.
It made sense in my head.
“Woof!”
Tony shook his head. I didn’t get the feeling that it was a bad thing, but it didn’t make a lot of sense, either. It was probably one of those gestures that made more sense to human!Jaime than pup!Jaime.
Yeah, that tracked. I’d think more about it later.
Right now, I was too focused on the way his hand splayed, fingers stretched, over my abdomen. He really had big hands, and I had a thing for those. My breath hitched, my chest heaving up and down as I watched him. He was barely moving, as if one wrong flick of a finger would break whatever this was between us.
I shifted closer, leaning forward. I wasn’t one for making out while I was in a puppy headspace, but I needed to feel more of him. His body acted like a magnet. I was bad at resisting those. I didn’t want to try. I just wanted to get lost in the moment, to get more of it. More touches. More heat. More need.
“Easy, pup,” Tony warned.
I didn’t think he was annoyed. He really was posturing too hard. Everything would be much easier if he let go. I couldn’t say that with words, but I preferred using my body anyway. I pushed forward until my packer hit the patch of skin where his T-shirt met those stupid joggers he had no business owning.
He moved his hand higher up. Not much. Maybe an inch or so. He applied more force, too. I shivered. I didn’t submit just because someone proved their strength, but it was a first step in getting me there.
I squirmed on his lap.
“You want to lose some clothes?”
I squirmed some more, catching my bottom lip between my teeth while I considered the question. Losing clothes was not required to hump someone. There was something more degrading about not losing them I usually chased when I was in a mood like today. But there was something vulnerable to losing clothes. There was a rawness to it, too, to having less layers to shield from the burn.
I bobbed my head rapidly before I remembered I was a puppy. The bark I let out was weak. Tony didn’t mention it. I pushed his hand to the fly of my pants before he got the wrong idea about which clothes I wanted to lose.
Tony froze. I huffed. Someone smarter than me would’ve waited until their partner’s first time was out of the way before slipping into an impatient headspace. I was clearly not that someone. First times and hand-holding weren’t things I did. I went for experienced partners and Domms who knew what they wanted and how to get it out of me.
Maybe it was connected with the fact that I never played with anyone longer than a couple of scenes. I was not going there today. Today was about…
Something.
Something else.
Something else that Tony had promised to give me but wasn’t yet.
I almost buckled over when his finger finally worked the button of my pants. The sound of the zip being undone rang through the room—or maybe he wasn’t the only one nervous about what we were doing. I had a tendency to stop noticing the way my body reacted to things—the way my heart beat faster, my hands clammed up with sweat, and my throat dried up. They always seemed unimportant things.
“You’re so impatient, aren’t you, pup?”
He was trying so hard. I’d heard that tone before, the one he used when he pretended to be disgusted, when he was degrading whoever he was playing with.
It wasn’t quite right, but I supposed he got an A for effort.
Something was missing. The heat in his voice was there, but it wasn’t… It wasn’t directed where it should.
I knew this wouldn’t make sense when I tried to put it into words. So, I didn’t. I just stood higher, enough so that he could lower my pants and I could get out of them. My packer stood in place—thank fuck for trans-owned stores designing this shit.
The point was, I wasn’t worried.
I didn’t want to watch his reaction. I didn’t want to overthink how he felt about the prosthetic secured by my briefs or anything else.
The second the clothes were out of the way—the shift in temperature had my skin rising with goose bumps—I positioned myself. He’d said I could hump him, but I had to do all the work.
I intended to do just that.
In all my fantasies, whenever I was in a position like this with Tony, he had his hands on my hips and he controlled every moment. Perhaps I should mention it for next time—if there was a next time. Now, I liked the idea of placing my paws over his chest, of hovering over him in a semblance of dominance I knew I didn’t hold over him.
I bit my lip, shuddering as I rocked my hips against his legs. My fantasies hadn’t accounted for the gym-made muscles. I hadn’t considered the hardness, and the way the burn would feel muted through the layers between us, as I thrust against air.
Tony didn’t take his eyes off me. Off my hips. I pawed at his chest. That got his attention.
“You’re doing good, pup,” he rasped out. I panted. There was no reason for the sound, but it came out, regardless. Tony moved his hand back to my neck. “Are you going to come all over me, pup? Drive yourself wild on my leg like a runt with no manners?”
Fuck.
If he talked like that? Yeah, it was definitely going to happen.
No idea what was wrong with me. There was nothing special about what we were doing. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t done a million times over. Leg humping was the most basic thing I knew how to do.
“Take what you need, pup.”
Could Tony read my mind? I wouldn’t put it past him. But that was all the thinking I could do before I dissolved into pants and soft whimpers. He tilted his hips upward, pressing his thigh harder against my core. The material of the joggers he had on wasn’t rough, but it amplified every sensation. It reminded me that my legs were bare while his weren’t—I only had a pair of briefs covering me, while all his clothes were intact.
My cheeks had to be incredibly flushed. I parted my lips as I tried to stay upright. His hold helped, but I soon started to tremble.
I squirmed. The angle just wasn’t good. I nudged his other leg so he opened wider. There . Now I could grind down properly. I almost sighed in relief when I pressed down against the toned muscle. What came out was closer to a high-pitched moan.
I didn’t care.
The air around us felt charged, hotter than it was when I first walked inside the room. A tremor ran down my spine as I lunged forward, my forehead resting against his shoulder. He might be going through something right now, but his body was solid. His hold didn’t falter. I didn’t need to look at him to feel the dominance wafting off him. I didn’t need him to talk, to move, but I needed his presence. I needed him to catch me as my hips kept grinding on him, as the simple act became more overwhelming.
Heat pooled in my lower stomach, growing in intensity. I panted and gasped as I tried to ride it, as I tried to both increase it and quell it. I didn’t know which was which. There was only Tony’s leg, his hand at the back of my neck, and my labored breathing.
I whimpered. It wasn’t fair. I was so close already, so near gone I didn’t know what to do with it, how to process any of what was happening around me. I needed to get off. I needed to put an end to the pressure building, to the craving for a stimulation I wanted to chase without really knowing how to do it.
“That’s right.” Tony moved his hand to cup my jaw. I gulped down. “Keep going, pup.”
I grunted. Guilt swarmed my stomach, the knots adding up with everything else going on in my body. I couldn’t process it, couldn’t stop to wonder why it was there in the first place. It would have to be a problem for future Jaime. Present Jaime just had to keep grinding down against Tony’s leg, to be driven by their most animalistic instincts—the ones that, right now, only cared about sex and the promise of their deepest fantasy getting them to that point where all the voices quieted.
Tony’s face was too close. Closer than I thought he’d be. My eyes locked on his. There were wrinkles around them he might not be aware of, and they had tiny speckles of color I hadn’t noticed before.
His breath mingled with mine. I leaned closer. I wasn’t thinking, I was just chasing more of the warmth that enveloped him. I wanted more of that fire in his eyes, that sternness. I needed to feel it crash all over me. It sounded dramatic, but I wasn’t sure I could function without it. I wasn’t sure I could reach that peak and come down without him holding everything I was.
My eyes prickled with tears as I rolled my hips harder against his thigh. Fuck. I hadn’t signed up for this. It hadn’t happened in a while—or in front of someone who wasn’t Cece. I could get stupidly deep in my head and my emotions when I was on the brink of an orgasm, and I didn’t always know how to handle it.
It was embarrassing as fuck.
I cleared my throat. Finding words was hard when I got into this particular headspace, but I couldn’t deal with the silence. I couldn’t expect Tony to figure out what was going on, either. Or not to assume I was a complete basket case.
“I’m so close” didn’t exactly convey what I wanted—or needed—but it was a start.
Tony squeezed the back of my neck in response. He let out a grunt of his own, too, one that traveled all the way down my spine and had me shivering for all the right reasons. “Yeah? You’re going to come all over my leg, pup?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Everything was telling me to say yes. I wanted that. I craved it—marking him, pinning him down while I rode my orgasm.
“Need more.”
Something. Anything.
Words really were hard when every cell in my being was too focused on the promise of pleasure that came from every point of contact. From being anywhere near him, really. A part of me was still questioning that it was real and not some weird dream that had me in the same bed as my most secret crush. Maybe that was why my body requested more. More touch. More words. More roughness. More of anything that convinced it this was really happening.
“Do you need me to touch you?” I could’ve sworn he swallowed before asking the question, but I was more focused on the hand he’d already moved to my thigh, just an inch or two above my knee.
For a second, I froze. It should be fine—it was fine—but I’d somehow forgotten my skin was bare below my hips. It had been a no-brainer when I’d climbed on the bed, but the briefs proved an obstacle to coming as hard as I liked. The hand directly on my skin forced me to glance down, to watch it wrapped around my paler skin. I’d always felt self-conscious about my legs. They were too scrawny, even if I’d say I was in shape.
“Pup.” Tony lifted his hand off my leg. I debated if I felt relief or regret at the action. I gulped. He tilted my chin up with the hand he’d kept by my jaw. His eyes were stormier than usual, but just as solid. “Are you with me?”
Yeah, because this wasn’t embarrassing enough.
I should be grateful I managed to give him a nod without combusting. Or just simply fleeing the scene.
I didn’t want to flee, anyway. I just wanted him to do something about the pressure, and the heat, and the burn that was keeping me on the edge.
Edging was fun, but not like this—not when I hadn’t consented to it and there wasn’t a person in charge of the pacing.
“Yeah. Yeah.” I uttered the words when it became clear that nonverbal assent was not going to cut it. Which was a good thing—hot, too. I blinked before I could get lost again in the hot part. “I don’t know why I’m getting so in my head.”
I knew and I didn’t, so it wasn’t the most honest I could’ve been, but it wasn’t a downright lie. The thought didn’t make me feel much better, but it had to count for something.
Tony frowned. His eyebrows looked thinner up close. Lighter. Was that a thing? I supposed it had to do with some optical illusion because of the bald head.
I bet it was soft.
Dammit.
Focus, Jaime.
“Do you want me to answer that for you?”
I narrowed my eyes. My gut said yes, to give in to him and let him have control. The reasonable part of my brain—yes, it existed—said to tread with caution. I pursed my lips as I weighed the options.
It didn’t take long. “You think you can?”
Self-preservation was not a feature my body came with, or one I could get through surgeries, hormones, or any other man-made way.
Science really should get on that. Not necessarily as a trans issue.
Yeah. Whatever. Stop thinking, brain.
“I think you’re not submitting, not fully. That’s what your body is begging for, pup.”
I scowled right away—and ignored the way his words settled deep in my gut. I was not going to even contemplate that. “I never said I wanted to submit.”
Instead of meeting my anger—if it could be called that—Tony just tilted his lips upward. It was annoying. It made me more aware of the heat between my legs and the fact that I’d just been on the brink of coming, too. I didn’t appreciate it, even if the lower half of my body said otherwise.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I have yet to see a Dom hump someone’s leg.”
I huffed. “It’s not my fault you all don’t know how to have fun.”
Leg humping was really underrated. I didn’t want to start a debate over it, though. I just wanted him to tell me why I wasn’t coming and fix it. Or, just the latter would work. Words could happen later.
“You really have an attitude problem.”
“You’re the one who told me to come upstairs,” I pointed out.
“And you’re the one who obeyed.”
There was something about the way he enunciated that last word. I gulped. Every instinct screamed at me to fight the claim, to protest. I didn’t obey him. I didn’t respond to him.
They’d be lies.
I’d done that. Worse, I wanted to keep doing it. If I was really honest with myself, the issue here was that he was giving me too much leeway. That wasn’t a piece of honesty I’d be sharing anytime soon.
There really was a reason why I never lasted longer than ten minutes with a Domm of my own. Other subs’ Domms were fine.
Their requests didn’t mean I had to let go of control. I didn’t have to do more than have my fun with that sub. Even when I serviced one of the Domms, there weren’t any expectations, any rules other than going with the flow.
Technically, there weren’t any rules here. We hadn’t discussed anything other than my opposition to a contract , which he’d respected. There weren’t any expectations, either. I’d just come here and opened my mouth before I could really consider what I was doing and who I was doing it with.
I wanted them, though.
The realization had me widening my eyes, parting my lips. It was stupid, but it wasn’t a sensation I was familiar with. I’d always been happy treading my perfectly crafted line. I was an alpha pup. I did my thing, herded everyone around and wagged my tail until I was the center of attention of every Little in a five-mile radius. And then I fucked them with Cece, and I proved I was the strongest pup in the history of ever.
I didn’t look at a Domm and want to kneel for them. At most, I wanted to toy with them, to see how far I could go before they snapped.
“Color, pup?”
Yeah, it tracked that he had to check.
“Green.” I spoke out of reflex. “Maybe yellow. What’s a greenish color that looks a bit yellow under the right lighting?”
Tony didn’t look like he was about to answer my question. I knew there was one, though, probably with a French sounding name. All the cool colors had French names for some reason.
“Ease up.”
“But—” I whined right away.
I didn’t want to move. Well, I wanted to move, I reckoned, but not away from him. I just wanted to rub myself raw against his leg until I came, for fuck’s sake. I licked my lips before I let out any of that swearing. With my luck, Tony was one of those Domms who were really big into their subs not swearing in front of them. It had never made sense to me, but…
But I was a complete hypocrite, because if he told me not to swear right now? Hell, it would probably send me over that edge that kept eluding me today.
“It wasn’t a suggestion.”
He sounded even more serious, his voice lower, raspier. It killed any protest as I lifted my leg and then moved out of the space between his legs. It felt more awkward than it had been to get into position. I tried to ignore it, but it wasn’t easy. Discomfort was always quick to settle deep in my bones, to make me hyperaware of everything around me.
“Jaime.” While I was spiraling, Tony looked as put together as he always did. The only time I’d seen him not that put together was earlier, actually, when I had him pressed against the entrance to the living room. The thought was both humbling and disconcerting. Teasing him had been fun. It was fun. So why wasn’t I jumping to turn the tables on him again? “Take a breath and talk to me. For real this time.”
I took back any positive thing I ever said about D-types.