6. Tony
SIX
tony
K eeping a straight face was admittedly hard—just as hard as it was not to use more direct methods to get Jaime talking. The pup started scowling the second I told him to talk. If he was actually mine and gave me that silent treatment? He’d be bending over my lap, at the exact angle so that he’d feel my hand on his ass until next week.
Unfortunately—was it unfortunate?—Jaime was not mine to discipline. He was just the puppy I was intrigued by, who had somehow made it to my playroom and was throwing a temper tantrum in his head because he couldn’t come on his own. And because of whatever fumbling thoughts he had around submission. I had to say, I hadn’t expected that last part, even after all the times I’d watched him. Even before he slid out of that pupspace of his enough to beg, it was clear he was holding back. Every time I’d touched him, it had helped, pulled him that tiny bit deeper, but it hadn’t been enough.
The problem was, now that he wasn’t touching me, and he wasn’t talking, and I didn’t have an excuse to slide into a role, I had to take account of my own bodily response. I had to sit with the fact that I was on a bed with a trans masc person. I had to research—or ask—what words he preferred, but it could wait. I moved a hand to my chest. I was surprised my watch wasn’t alerting me to irregular palpitations. It certainly felt like my heart had been beating much faster since Jaime had broken in.
It didn’t worry me. If anything, it was something I wanted to push past—something I needed to push past. The knowledge, however, didn’t make things any more comfortable. It didn’t boost me with that confidence I got when I was just a Dom in the middle of a scene. It was a miracle the pup hadn’t realized yet I was mostly fronting.
Then again, that might be another factor why he wasn’t letting go the way he should—the way I knew he could. There might be little about him that was conventional when he played, but I’d watched enough to say subspace was something he reached often. It was in the way his focus shifted and zeroed in on whatever he was doing, but mostly, it was in the way he looked after a scene was over. After the high was done, he sought out comfort, a solid body, warmth. He was desperate for it at times.
“I might have downplayed my obsession with you earlier.”
“Obsession?” I squinted as I watched him.
I hadn’t expected him to confess anything. I certainly hadn’t expected anything about an obsession. He’d spoken about following my career, but it hadn’t fully registered. I’d been busy with plenty of other things.
Jaime shook his head almost instantly. He squirmed under my watch.
I didn’t have any blanket that was easy to reach, and I wasn’t sure telling him to put his pants back on was what either of us needed.
“Ignore that.” He licked his lips again. It was the most anxious I’d seen him since he’d walked in full of bravado and demands. “But I’m… I’m not the perfect, pretty, obedient sub.”
“I know.” I wasn’t going to ignore anything as he’d asked, either, but I wasn’t going to let him derail the conversation. We’d go back to it sometime. It wasn’t as if I’d stop seeing him after today. There were very few days when I’d been at Plumas and Jaime hadn’t been present. “You’re a brat, and an obnoxious pup.”
“I’m not obnoxious.” He frowned. “I’m a delight.”
“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Why did you have to state the obvious, Jaime?”
There was no way he could think I didn’t know that basic tidbit of information about him. Even if he wasn’t aware of the way I watched him more times than I was willing to admit—we could argue I was the one with the obsession—the fact that he wasn’t a perfect, pretty, obedient sub was common knowledge. Hell, it was all over his profile, too. Not something sworn to secrecy.
“Because?” Jaime cocked his head to the side. He shifted around until he sat in a more natural position for him. That was, one leg was perched up while the other was bent at a ninety-degree angle. I’d never once seen him sitting down properly. Everyone in his group at the club joked about his bisexual sitting. “I feel off-kilter around you.”
I probably stopped breathing then, all musings about his sitting shoved to the side. “Good or bad off-kilter?”
Had I misread everything because I was the one feeling off-kilter, overwhelmed by having this menace of a pup in my space? Had I lost control that badly I hadn’t seen something so basic?
The thought had my stomach cramping the same way it had when I was a newbie in the scene. Or when I had to defend my thesis. Or when I’d talked in front of the European Parliament for the first time.
It had been years since I’d had to experience those kinds of nerves.
I didn’t appreciate them choosing this particular time to resurface.
“Good. I think.” Jaime bit his lip. “But weird.”
I nodded. “It’s weird for me, too.”
And that was the wildest admission I’d ever given a submissive in my presence.
Jaime just watched me. He had a way of doing it, too. It was intense, but not too overpowering; just enough to know there was something he was working out in his mind.
It was a nice quality, one I respected, but it wasn’t one I’d expected to find in him. It wasn’t one I knew how to respond to while I was doing my best not to overthink.
“But you have hooked up with men before.”
“Yes.”
I ignored the way my throat tightened. Maybe something would go my way, and he wouldn’t catch on to it. I was more old school than most at the club. Showing vulnerability in front of a sub was not something I did. It wasn’t for me. I didn’t know why I wasn’t closing off. I could dismiss him, tell him to pick up his food and his backpack again and forget this ever happened. I’d done similar things before—grunt out an answer that kept Sergio or any other sub at a distance, toeing the line between asshole behavior and the type of behavior that would get me kicked out of Plumas.
The line kept getting thinner, but I’d mastered it.
“Okay…?” Jaime narrowed his eyes. “So what’s different?”
I couldn’t stay in bed with him, not if I wanted to actually have the conversation he was asking for. The one I knew we should have. I didn’t want to find a way to get out of it. I just needed to breathe.
Before he could prod me for an answer I had yet to formulate, I slid off the bed. With my back to him and a few steps between us, the pressure in my chest didn’t feel as overwhelming. It didn’t feel like I was about to lose all control. Without the evidence of what I’d been doing—or was about to do—in sight, I could convince myself to go back to that headspace I’d been in. It had been fleeting, but for a few minutes, I could just be a Dom. Slipping into that role was easy, like a second skin. I stopped thinking about genders, identities, or anything other than the fact that I was a Dom with a sub on my lap.
“You can’t tell?” I scoffed.
The problem with toeing the line between an absolute asshole and a Dom who could be kicked out at a moment’s notice? It had become ingrained in me. Habit, almost, one that was harder to get rid of than I would’ve first thought.
“Obviously not,” Jaime retorted. There was more of that attitude he’d had when he’d stormed inside my house. It felt like a setback. I didn’t like the way my chest tightened. “I’m sorry if this wasn’t the perfect scene for you. Big news, real life works that way sometimes.”
“Easy.” I lifted my hand. My back was still to him, but I could hear the rustling. It quieted with just that hand movement. I breathed out. I needed to get the conversation back on track, back to the place where I could forget he was more than a sub or any different from the subs I was used to. “Back in the living room, if I’d let you ride my leg, you would’ve come in two seconds flat. What changed between them and now?”
Seconds passed without an answer. I ran a hand over the spanking bench I’d stopped at. The padded leather was something I kept in perfect condition. The cool, smooth feel of it grounded me enough I could glance back toward the bed.
Jaime had unmade it so that he could cover with the duvet, now draped around his hips. His eyes burned with a silent challenge. I supposed he was baiting me to say something. I didn’t. I just raised an eyebrow, waiting for his answer to my question.
It came eventually, just as I thought it would. “I wasn’t thinking before.”
I hummed. “And what are you thinking now that’s becoming an issue?”
There could be a myriad answers to my question. Some of them would be harder to accept.
I did not want to put an end to this, even when I was already planning on giving Erika a call the second Jaime was out of here. As frustrating as I found the Domme, I had to give it to her—she was the one constant who had been there ever since this whole nightmare exploded. Did I curse her out often? Yes. But she picked up the phone every time. Most times, I didn’t like what she had to say, but at least she had something to say that didn’t involve ending the call or telling me I was a disgrace to the family.
Fuck.
I shook the thoughts off.
“It’s a long list.” Jaime pursed his lips. He lifted his hand, starting with one finger. I leaned against the spanking bench. It didn’t take a genius to realize this was going to take a while. “Sergio will fall into one of his depressive episodes we’re not supposed to refer to as depressive because he’s not diagnosed with it or whatever. I still don’t know how the hell you see me, or if you’re safe, so this is kind of self-sabotaging. But the main thing? I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, because I don’t do D/s. It’s not a thing.”
It was that third finger I focused on. There was nothing I could say about Sergio. A considerable chunk of my day consisted of avoiding thinking about it, and the reparations Erika kept drilling into my head I needed to work on.
I couldn’t say anything about the second point, either. It made me the worst person on Earth. It should be grounds to call this off completely. That’s what someone fully sane, with all the morals one theoretically needed to engage in the kind of play we did, would do. The fact that I wasn’t left a sour taste in the back of my mouth, but it wasn’t enough to deter me.
“What do you mean you don’t do D/s?”
For a second, Jaime just blinked at me. Then his eyes crossed, his eyebrows turned down into a scowl. “I don’t. I mean, the Domms in our group who happen to be around? Fine. But I’ve never gone on a proper date with one or done anything that mattered.”
He shuddered as he said the words while I tried to reconcile this new information with the image I’d had of him. The very incomplete image I’d had of him.
“Why’s that?”
“What do you mean?”
I looked upward. This playroom was the thing I poured all my energy into when I moved here and needed an outlet, but the walls were still too bare. It almost felt utilitarian—or it would, if not for the touches of leather and treated wood.
“You’re a sub. You’ve attended munches, workshops, and plenty of play nights. You are a member of a BDSM club. Why wouldn’t you be looking for a Domm?”
It didn’t take a genius to see he was about to chew me a new one. I didn’t even have time to figure out what it was going to entail before he started talking.
“I can be a sub without needing, wanting, or being remotely interested in a Domm, thank you very much.” He huffed, shaking his head. Once again, it brought me back to being here with Marga and Jen. Marga would get frustrated when her thoughts ran faster than her tongue could, and she’d do similar gestures. “We’re in the twenty-first century. Maybe keep up with the program.”
I gave it a few seconds before determining Jaime didn’t have more to say—at least not until he got a response—before I scrubbed a hand down my face.
“Are you going to listen if I answer with something that’s not blanket agreement?”
Jaime frowned right away. It was expected. Slowly, he nodded. It was subtle—hesitant, even—but it was more than I’d expected. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.
“Okay.” I got myself comfortable leaning against the bench, my hands clasped in front of me. “So. I agree that you don’t need to be looking for a partner or even a long-term arrangement with someone. But… some words, some terms, they’re relational. They require the existence, and the interaction, with another. If you say you’re a sub, you’re a sub in relation to a Domm. You are a sub because, to one degree or another, you submit, and you submit to someone.”
“That’s…” Jaime mulled it over for a few seconds. “Simplistic.”
I shrugged. “Move it outside of kink, then. You can say you’re a bottom without having sex at all, but you are a bottom in relation to the fact that other people are tops. The two terms wouldn’t exist without the other.”
Jaime pursed his lips. It was so clear that he didn’t like what I was saying. For some reason, the fact sent a thrill down my nervous system. I’d never denied that I liked pushing my subs.
He might not be my sub, but it was apparently not a deal-breaker.
“What are you getting at?”
A sigh escaped me. That one was harder to answer. It was only fair, though. He was keeping his end of the bargain and not jumping down my throat. I shook the idea off. Here I was, the old school Dom feeling relief that a brat was behaving for once.
I needed to snap out of this funk, pronto.
“I’m trying to understand your aversion to Domms while you label yourself a sub.”
I didn’t think there would be any traumatic story behind it, but I was beginning to accept one never knew with Jaime. Still, I’d been around people who had been hurt in the context of kink. Kara would be one, off the top of my head. Jaime didn’t give off that vibe. He might make my head spin on a lot of different topics, but power dynamics were the one thing I understood without the need for anyone’s input.
Old school didn’t mean I wasn’t up-to-date on negotiations, RACK, and PRICK guidelines. It mostly meant I liked a degree of protocol and a way to dish out discipline.
“Aversion is a strong word.” Jaime started scratching his inner wrist as he spoke. If we were closer, I’d yank his hand away, but I couldn’t without going back to that place where I doubted my every move and word. “It’s what I was trying to say when I said I’m not the perfect sub. I don’t want to bottom all the time, obey, or even see you as a superior. How many Domms do you think are okay with that? And let’s not even get into how much my pool narrows when we add dysphoria into the mix.”
“What does dysphoria have to do with it?”
Questions about everything he’d said were piling up, but it was easy to see that I needed to be the one who streamlined the conversation. It was clear that last part was at the crux of the matter.
It was in the way he shrank as he spoke the word, as if saying it too loud would make a monster appear from under the bed. He looked too vulnerable, too out of character, as he tried to make himself small.
My hands itched with the need to offer comfort. My body remained paralyzed.
It was a strange combination, one that made my head throb and my jaw clench.
“Fuck my life.” Jaime groaned. He looked like he wanted to slump down on the bed but thought better of it at the last minute. On my part, I didn’t move a single muscle. Doing so felt dangerous. “Because I am not going to be someone’s learning curve, and I am not going to put myself in a position where I have to explain to you how to make me feel better when I feel like carving my skin inside out?”
His breathing grew heavier as he spoke.
I swallowed before I gritted my teeth. I didn’t recognize the anger behind the gesture. I wasn’t angry at Jaime—or at what he’d said, even though he could work on the delivery. But that didn’t clear the confusion now embedded with that first sign of anger.
“Does that happen often?” was not the most appropriate follow-up question.
It was the first thing that came out, and I wasn’t about to take it back.
How much was Jaime hiding behind all the sitting in uncomfortable positions and giving lip to everyone in a five-mile radius?
He sighed. “Yes and no.”
I frowned. That wasn’t an answer, and it did nothing to alleviate the turmoil of emotions I hadn’t asked for. The more I dwelled on it, the more uncomfortable it got, almost resembling the kind of itch I imagined Jaime had been trying to scratch earlier.
I was getting too old to be dealing with these… feelings .
A shudder ran through my body before I could contain it. “Do you feel that way now?”
“Um.” Jaime cocked his head to the side. I couldn’t help but imagine the way the ears in his puppy hood would flop if he was wearing it. “No?”
“So what helps, when you’re feeling that way?”
“Oh my god.” Jaime bounced. “Weren’t you listening to what I just said? Last I checked, it’s the one thing you Daddies are unanimously good at?—”
I raised my hand before he could dig his grave any deeper. “You said you don’t want to explain it while you are feeling that way. You aren’t now, so I’m asking.”
Jaime’s nostrils flared. I stood taller, ready for whatever attack he was going to swing my way. I didn’t think I’d warranted it—I had listened, even if he didn’t like the conclusion I drew from the act—but he was speaking from an emotional place. I knew better than to expect logic.
“I don’t always know,” he admitted. Surprisingly, it tracked with everything I was learning about him today. “Being a pup helps. Physical stuff, mostly. I think.”
I hummed. So, he was looking for adrenaline highs, one way or another. That should be easy enough to manage, shouldn’t it?
Great. Now my anger was directed at other imaginary Domms who may not even exist—not a productive use of my time.
“All right.” Staying on topic was ten times harder than I would’ve thought it was. Now I just wanted to ask why he was hesitating on the things that helped him. I wanted to ask about his experiences with other Domms that weren’t his friends, if he actually had any. I wanted to dig into the past and I didn’t even have the present figured out. It wasn’t how I operated—or how I wanted to operate. “So let’s tackle your other reservations.”
Jaime glanced up. I couldn’t tell what he was feeling at the moment. His face was both too vulnerable and too shielded. It was a strange combination. It shouldn’t make sense, but it did.
“Other reservations?”
I wasn’t looking forward to it, either. Him making me spell it out was not helping. “Whatever’s keeping you from letting go with a Domm. Or with me.”
“I already told you?—”
“You mentioned Sergio.” I winced at the mention of his name. It happened more and more often. I ignored it. “You mentioned twice now your gender, which we’ve already covered. So, is it just Sergio? And if so, how did you justify coming here in the first place?”
It wasn’t a secret that I was persona non grata in his group of friends. It wasn’t something I actively worked to change. Up until recently, the idea of being surrounded by people who were so… out… was unthinkable. Now, I wouldn’t know where to start. I already felt like I was standing on loose terrain half of the time. I didn’t need to put myself in a situation where that would become glaringly obvious.
Loneliness suited me just fine.
“I was angry,” Jaime grumbled. “I’m impulsive when I’m angry.”
I couldn’t say I related to that impulsiveness. It would’ve probably helped me back in the day. Or maybe it would’ve left me in the streets, and I wouldn’t own any of what I had today. Some days I wondered if it had really been worth it. Those were the days I punished myself by going to the club and keeping to the role of DM. If they happened more and more? I pretended not to notice the pattern.
“So what? You need his blessing before you do anything now?”
I didn’t intend to sound so derisive. Sergio had done nothing wrong. He was just the unfortunate reminder of what I’d done wrong. The guy didn’t even hold a grudge against me. In a sick way, I believed that was why I’d shown more animosity toward him in our years at the club. It would be easier if he treated me as if I was his number one enemy.
Ever since I’d noticed he’d become a member at the same club I’d helped Erika found, he’d stayed in the background. As much as someone with Sergio’s expansive personality could stay in the background, anyway. He never mentioned knowing me. He never tried to corner me or talk to me. Didn’t spread any rumors about me or make any kind of scene. It had been unnerving.
It still was.
Even after everything came out, and Abel—his very own Daddy—forced him to speak up about what had gone on years before, he hadn’t…
The only thing he’d done was ask me why, and I hadn’t even been able to give him a proper answer that didn’t make me sound like a bigger asshole. And he was still okay with me. He could technically veto me from any event at the club he wanted, but he didn’t. Granted, I hadn’t been attending as much, and certainly not on the days when I knew he was going to be the center of attention.
“I don’t need anyone’s blessing.” Jaime huffed. “Someone else would say you’re trying to keep me angry.”
I snorted. If only he’d known where my thoughts had been. “Believe me, that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Oh, yeah?”
The worst thing happened then. Whatever he’d seen in my face, it gave Jaime that confidence he’d shown back in my living room. And he started moving, prowling out from under the duvet, off the bed, and toward me. This time, I didn’t even have a proper wall to support me.
I didn’t have a chance to hide how my knees buckled. I didn’t have a way to run. Any movement from here would paint me as a coward.
I’d never felt as much as one, but feeling and letting others know were completely different games. I had no plans to do the latter anytime soon, but the alternative? No clue. I didn’t know how to not crave the way he moved toward me. I didn’t know how not to let my eyes dart down his body, registering all the unblemished skin and toned muscle. He wasn’t big or wide shouldered, and he didn’t have any of the traits I was used to when I arranged something with another professor.
It was funny—the amount of queer professors who were either closeted or happy to hook up with someone on the down-low. I definitely hadn’t been expecting that when I’d gotten tenured. I hadn’t tried looking before then. It had felt like too much of a risk.
“New plan, Sir.”
The honorific meant nothing when it was accompanied by that sardonic smile. My breath still caught in the back of my throat. It didn’t mean anything, but there was a promise behind the word, a taste of what it would be like if he actually meant it. I could easily picture it—him run down after being a puppy for a few hours and falling to his knees.
Kind of like what he was doing now.
“Wanna run it by me first, pup?”
I had no idea how I managed to get the words out. His new plan was written all over his face as he licked his lips, heat in his eyes. There were only so many ideas that involved him going down to his knees.
I didn’t have to be an expert on all things gay to know. Some things transcended sexual orientation, and identities, and all the proper terminology.
“You’re smart enough to figure it out,” Jaime drawled. His eyes sparkled as he reached out to the band of my joggers. “I can always spell it out if you need me to. Only minor judgement included.”
“How generous.” I grabbed a fistful of his perfectly coiled hair before he could make another move. His pupils dilated slightly, lips parted. That was all the reaction he gave. I found myself craving to undo him more than that, to get more of him that wasn’t the facade he put on for everyone else. “You wanna suck my cock, pup?”
Jaime squinted his eyes. It had been too predictable. He had more tells than he realized. I’d been lost when he wasn’t running his hands through his hair in the way I was used to seeing in subs. It turned out, he showed all his emotions on his face. He either squinted, crossed his eyes, or bit the inside of his cheeks or his bottom lip. Or he rearranged himself into yet another seating position that couldn’t be more comfortable than the previous one.
Granted, he couldn’t do that when he kneeled before me, so his face turned ten times more expressive to make up for it.
“Playing gay chicken with me gets you nowhere. You know that, right?”
It also reinforced his idea that that mouth of his could get him out of trouble. Or into more trouble. I thought I knew which one he was going after, but I still had to sit down and reorganize everything I thought I knew about him later.
“You’re the one dragging this out, pup.” I gritted the words at the same time as I tightened my hold on his hair. A gasp escaped those parted lips of his. It was better, but still not as satisfying as I’d hoped. “There are rules to follow if you want this.”
Jaime’s nostrils flared. I didn’t think it meant he was angry. He was getting impatient, though. That part was obvious.
“We’ve established I’m not good at those.”
“And I have no interest in talking you into submitting.” I did, but this was part of whatever game we were playing. I squared up my shoulders. The position still made me feel at a disadvantage. I tried to ignore it, to focus on the way he was watching me as if I was about to hand him his next meal and he was starving. He was starving for something all right. “So what is it going to be?”
“You haven’t told me what those rules are yet.” Jaime licked that bottom lip of his again. “Informed consent, remember?”
“That’s the kind of sass that would get you a slap to the face if we had an agreed upon dynamic,” I warned.
It just made him grin. “I’m not a fan of slaps to the face.”
“So that’ll be your motivation to not get one.”
He rolled his eyes. I reminded him of my hold on his scalp. He knew as well as I did that was as far as I would take it. I had no interest—or right—to punish him, just as I’d never have a right to do something he wasn’t a fan of, wording aside. That didn’t mean I couldn’t play around with the threat, let it hang in the air around us and build until Jaime was squirming beneath me.
Power surged through me. Rightness, too. That familiar sense of being with a sub began to wash over me once more, to sharpen the edges around my vision and bring him into focus.
I took a deep breath, let it fill my lungs before I spoke again. “You are going to swallow me as far as you can. Then, you’re going to relax your jaw, and you’re going to let me fuck your face.”
A pitiful whimper left Jaime’s lips before I could check if that was okay with him. “Yes, Sir.”
That one was closer to a true honorific. Not quite there, but I’d take it. “Tap my legs if you need a pause.”
Jaime nodded. His cheeks flushed pink as he tried to keep his eyes on me and not my crotch. “You have condoms here?”
Right.
I winced. “In one of the drawers there. Wait a second.”
He hummed. “I have a recent STI panel. All negative. And I always use barriers.”
“Right.” I did, too. “My panel is not as recent, but I haven’t played with anyone since before I got it done.”
It was a few months after the girls ended our arrangement, so there was no window period to be worried about. The wincing came from knowing that I was the one who should’ve brought up condoms way before I told him about my plans to fuck his throat.
“You’re not going to complain about oral with a condom?”
I tensed. It took a second to remember he was only trying to get a raise out of me. “This is your final warning that I’m not desperate enough to deal with whatever tough act you wanna put on.”
There was truth to the words. A part of me was desperate to taste him, to get him to that place he hadn’t reached earlier, to have him near. But the exhaustion that had been my main company this past year had a way of clinging to me in no time. Back and forth with a brat was something I usually had all the patience in the world for. The problem was, this felt like more than brat taming. There were more layers to it, even when I couldn’t identify all of them or tell when one began and the other ended.
I couldn’t foresee putting any of that into words, either. Definitely not today.
So I snatched the condom, checked it hadn’t somehow expired, and did quick work of unzipping my pants and letting my cock out. Efficiency was the name of the game here. If I focused on the actions, I didn’t have to keep thinking about the way I craved carving myself into every inch of Jaime’s skin until he couldn’t take a breath without thinking of me.
“I’m waiting, pup.”
Something flashed through Jaime’s eyes. It disappeared too quickly. I considered asking but Jaime was fast. Like a true puppy, I supposed. He leaped on all fours until he was almost plastered to me. His hands were curled in small fists and resting against my thighs. Before I could place my hand back on his scalp, he was on me. He swallowed me almost to the root with no fanfare.
I grunted. I didn’t claim to have a huge cock, but people didn’t usually take my instructions to the letter.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head. He was impossibly warm. His tongue teased the underside of my cock. I clasped my hand on the back of his head and tugged on his hair. It was meant to be a warning, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he took it as encouragement. That was the kind of bratty pup he was, wasn’t it?
“Good pup.” My voice was raspier than usual. It had been a long fucking time since I’d had someone’s mouth around my cock. Lasting was going to feel even more challenging because of the electricity running between us. “You’re gonna be so good for me now, aren’t you?”
Jaime choked out something. He didn’t sound distressed, and he wasn’t tapping my thigh, so it didn’t matter. I moved my free hand, the one that was subtly keeping me upright by holding on to the edge of the bench, and ran a finger down his jawline.
“That’s right. You look so fucking good like this.” I gave a tentative thrust of my hips. Jaime’s throat constricted around me for a second. It was almost enough to have me go way earlier than was acceptable. It was bad enough that I was losing control in every other area. “You’re going to let me fuck your mouth now, aren’t you? You’ll be a good pup to me.”
Jaime gargled for a second. I let him adjust to my girth before I pushed deeper. He was good after a few seconds, eyes slightly glazed over as he kept his gaze on me. Even when tears gathered there, he kept his eyes on me. It was intoxicating. It drove me wilder, had me be rougher on him than I’d initially planned.
The moans coming out of his stretched throat told me it wasn’t a problem. Maybe that’s what I’d gotten wrong about him. In spite of all the posturing, Jaime might actually be searching for a firmer hand, a rougher treatment to put him in his place.
“Touch yourself if you want to, pup.” I tugged on his hair as I spoke, let him choke on my cock for a second before giving him a reprieve to breathe. “We have a lot to talk about after I’m done.”
It was a promise and a threat, and Jaime’s eyes darkened as the meaning registered.
Yeah, my gut was right about him.