23. Adair
23
ADAIR
M oving with what feels like deliberate slowness, he sits back down and unpacks it. I watch nervously as he carefully peels off plastic covering a little black cube with two blunt prongs on one side.
He can’t be serious… right? But the thing in his hand looks frighteningly real. My mouth has gone dry. I swallow nervously.
Jack holds it with the prongs against his palm and taps at a keychain remote control. There’s a buzzing sound. I embarrass myself by letting out a little gasp. Jack raises an eyebrow and lets out a hum of contemplation, ignoring me.
He fiddles with something on the device and taps the keychain again. There’s a second buzz; this time, his eyebrows jerk up and he gives a little shake of his head.
Fuck . I watch miserably as he threads a shiny plastic band through the piece in his hand. I’m torn. I want him to look at me, but I’m also afraid of what I might see in his eyes.
When he does glance up, they’re bright with an evil gleam. He points to the floor between his legs. “Come.”
Oh God, no. He has to be fucking with me. I obey, but there’s a pit of dread in my belly. I get on my knees and look up at him.
Jack chuckles, presumably at my anxious expression. He reaches out and strokes my hair a few times. It feels so soothing but I want to cry because I’m also mortified: He’s petting me.
By the time he puts a finger under my chin to lift it, I’m blinking back tears. He buckles the collar, pulling it tight enough that the twin prongs rest against the side of my neck.
He gets up and steps around me. “Stay,” he says, without a backwards glance. My face burns with humiliation all the way to the tips of my ears.
He’s gone a while. He crosses through the living room once or twice, but I’m at the wrong angle to see what’s in his hand. It’s all I can do not to whine in frustration, which just makes me feel even more like a dumb, badly-behaved pet.
I hear the sliding glass door open. Craning my neck, I see Jack step outside. As soon as he’s gone, I shift myself around to sit on the floor with my back against the sofa, trying to ignore the way my cock is pressing hard and insistent against my pants.
There’s no way this should be turning me on. Not at all. But the temptation to unbuckle and unzip so I can touch myself is overwhelming. I know it’s a huge risk, but my dick convinces my horny mind that it will be worth it.
I’ve just gotten my pants and underwear down when I hear the squeak of the sliding door. Shit . I try putting myself together as quickly and quietly as possible, but the footsteps behind me grow louder, then stop. I can’t tell if the sound Jack makes is one of amusement or annoyance. Heart in my throat, I turn to look.
He folds his arms with a frown. I watch the muscles in his forearms. Shifting uncomfortably, I realize he’s holding the remote for the collar that’s around my neck. A rush of blood sends my dick bobbing up. Oh my God —that’s not what’s supposed to happen. Horrified, I grab my waistband to pull up my pants and cover my exposed erection.
“ No . You horny little freak.” Jack’s tone is at once affectionate and exasperated. “Might as well keep going. Take off your pants —and everything else, too.” When my lips part, I see his thumb slide over the remote. I quickly squash down my questions.
I start to stand up out of habit before I see Jack’s eyes narrow. I quickly drop to my hands and knees. The look in his eyes when I do that makes me hot and cold. He’s looking at me like he wants to devour me. I shift my gaze to confirm what I see in his eyes: His cock is tenting his pants something fierce.
“Stay down,” he warns.
A little awkwardly, I strip off all my clothes from my position on my knees. Once I’m naked, I look up at Jack with pleading eyes. I’m not willing to run the risk of asking when he hasn’t given me permission, but I don’t know what he wants.
After studying me for a few nerve-wracking moments, he comes to sit on the sofa next to where I am on the floor and bends over to bring his mouth down on top of mine. His kiss is aggressive, his lips pressing against mine hard enough that I know they'll feel puffy by the time he releases me. His hand is at my nape just above that collar, holding me against him as his tongue seeks out mine, powerful and ravenous — like the rest of him.
When he eventually pulls his mouth away from mine, a lustful growl rumbles in his throat. “You’re lucky I like your mouth as much as I do, because I was seriously thinking about a muzzle,” he murmurs. My eyes widen but I don’t get a chance to respond because he catches my lower lip between his teeth and tugs on it until I whine pathetically.
He frees my mouth with a wicked grin as his big hand lands on my shoulder, pulling me into him. I lean in towards his lips again, hungry for another kiss.
There’s a click, metallic and very close to my ear. I jerk my head back —or, try to. My eyes fly back to Jack, who’s now wearing a wicked grin. When I look down at his hand, I recognize the coil of black leather wrapped around it: the leash. I shut my eyes and let out a low groan.
Jack’s dark laugh echoes in my ears. “What?” His tone of voice is mocking. “You didn’t think I was going to let a horny mutt run around off-lead, did you?”
I shake my head as I swallow hard and try to think. I know I have a safeword, but I’m not freaked out enough to pull the ripcord completely. But I don’t have the slightest idea what I’m following Jack into when he stands up and gives the leash a tug. “Come,” he says, his tone now dangerous with impatience.
I scramble to stand, too, but Jack yanks hard on the leash. Losing my balance, I land hard on my ass with a thump. I wince at the pain in my tailbone.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I open my mouth before he cuts off any answer. “That was a rhetorical question,” he snaps. He glares at me for a minute before giving the leash a quick tug, turning away from me. “Come.”
As I try to get my feet underneath me, a shock jolts me and I hit the floor again, this time with a yelp of pain. “Ah-ah.” Jack narrows his eyes at me. “I said come . I didn’t say stand up.”
Oh .
“You want to act like a horny bitch in heat, you’re going to crawl for me.”
I hang my head, glad that my shaggy hair is long enough to hide my embarrassment as I follow him, naked and on all fours, to the sliding glass door.
I feel his eyes on me without looking up. “Sit,” he says. I obey, sitting back on my heels.
Jack snickers. Oh, no . I look down, confirming what I already know: I’ve got a raging hard-on.
He observes me for a little bit in silence, obviously enjoying my humiliation, before he turns and opens the door. “We’re going out.” My heart sinks at the thought of being dark, cold and exposed, but when that tug on the leash comes, I have no choice but to follow.
Outside, I’m relieved to at least see that Jack made a fire, which is roaring and looks toasty enough that I won’t freeze my dick off. I make my way there on my hands and knees behind him, realizing I only see one chair pulled up to the firepit. As my eyes adjust to the firelight, I see something between the front of the chair and the flames that fills me with shame and arousal at the same time: My favorite fuzzy plaid throw blanket from the sofa is folded over and laid out on top of a heavy, folded tarp. My cheeks burn even as my cock swells when I realize I’m looking at a makeshift dog bed.