Chapter 43
I knew I was taking a risk the moment I thought of it, but the desire to play with Saint outweighed the chance of his disapproval. So, here I am handing him control of the vibrating plug I bought just for tonight. Not one of his that he knows more about than I do.
As soon as the first buzz hits my prostate, I know I’m in for one hell of an evening. I sink into the feeling, letting the edginess I felt the whole time we were apart melt away. I focus on Saint as he climbs out of the trunk, sliding the control into his pocket as he walks to my door.
“Be careful what you wish for, boy. You’re playing with a Master of Games.
” He holds out his hand for me, helping me out of the truck.
With his hand still holding mine, we walk through the door.
Saint gives our names to the hostess, and we’re quickly led to a small, secluded booth.
“Oh, could we have another table, one away from the wall. More central, if possible.”
Shit. I requested this table to let Saint play games with me.
Now, he’s taken over and raised the level tenfold.
It’s going to be a long night. Of course, Saint only has to glance at someone to make them do his bidding, he doesn’t notice the quizzical look she gives me.
This isn’t what I had planned. I didn’t factor in his need to control every situation.
I thought he’d recognise this as a boyfriend thing to do.
He’d enjoyed the night out we had with his brothers, but I’m wrong. Very, very wrong.
We sit down, and Saint grins at me. “This is nicer, don’t you think? We’ve got a much better view of the room. It’s busy tonight, you were lucky to get a table.”
“And you’re even luckier to change your mind about it,” I mutter. Luckily, he doesn’t notice my disappointment.
“I went to school with Jasmine, and both she and her boyfriend are members of the gym.” He winks at me. “How are you feeling? I bet you wished we’d just gone home now.”
“Good, I’m hungry, and it smells amazing in here.” I pick up the menu from my placemat and open it. “What’s good here?” When I look up from the menu, Saint has placed the control on the table, pressing the tab in the middle of the rubber covered device as he does it.
The jolt of the plug against my prostate is strong enough to make a moan escape my lips. I breathe through it and squirm a little on the chair. Saint chuckles, and with a little shake of his head, he takes my menu away. “I’ll order for you.”
“Okay,” I breathe through another pulse.
Saint picks up the control as the waiter arrives. Saint gives our drinks order and asks for a few minutes to look at the food. He must have the now hated control in his lap, because he’s dropped his hand to his lap, and the vibrations are faster and harder now.
Over the next forty-five minutes—I can see a clock on the side wall—I have no clue what I’ve eaten or what we’ve talked about. The vibrations have been consistent, varying in strength but still intense. Saint is highly amused, and I’m desperately trying not to come. Finally, he calls for the bill.
“Time to go, boy.” Saint stands up and walks to me and offers his hand.
I think if left to my own devices, I’d be hunched over, virtually crawling out of here.
I truly hope this is the punishment for taking control of our date.
He said I would hate him, and right now, I’m not far away from that.
It was supposed to be a fun evening, some silly game and a date, a proper date, before going home and having great sex.
I don’t think my prostate can cope with more stimulation.
I’m sure it was waving a white flag by halfway through the meal.
I take his hand and stand up. I walk alongside him, my back straight, not giving in yet.
The plug is on a very low vibration, and as soon as we get outside, I let go of Saint’s hand and step to the side, away from him.
I can’t have him touching me, not when I’m close to breaking down.
We get to the truck, and I clamber up onto the seat, berating under my breath about stupid dumb trucks.
Saint stays silent as he starts the engine but before he moves off, he hands me the remote. “You can turn it off now and take a punishment when we get home, or you can turn it up one level and keep it on for the length of the journey, and it will all be over. Your choice, boy.”
Okay, now I hate him. I take the wretched control and turn it up.
When we get back to his place, I’ll grab my stuff and go back to my place for the night.
I can’t have him touching me. He doesn’t comment on my choice, he just puts the truck in first gear, and we drive away.
Of course, he’s still being a bastard, and we head in the wrong direction for the flat.
Instead, we head for the other side of town.
Still, I say nothing, I don’t have enough energy to speak, and what I want to say will not go down well, and I have no escape route out.
Eventually, we pull up alongside the studio, and I climb out before he’s even switched off the engine. I turn off the fucking plug, I’m half a breath away from stomping it into pieces. I will never use this one again. A waste of my money, but I’ll get over that.
I rush up the steps to his flat, ignoring his calls for me to stop, to wait.
I’m grateful for the spare key he gave me and can get indoors without his help.
The rush to the bathroom stops me from shutting the door behind me.
My jeans are down to my knees in seconds, and the plug pulled free.
I drop it on the floor before turning on the cold tap and dousing my face.
The disappointment at the way the evening has gone will surface, but not yet.
I can cry about it when I’m home and in my own bed.
When I turn around, Saint is filling the doorway, his hands up on the top frame, and he looks angry.
“Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on? You started this, Noah. If you didn’t like what was happening, you could’ve stopped it.
You could have said red, and it would’ve been over.
So don’t get pissy with me when this is all on you. ”
I pull up my jeans, my exposure to him too much.
“I know, and now I’m ending it. I’m going home.
” I step up to him, staring, until he drops his hands and moves out of the doorway.
I go into the living room to collect my bag and my drawing supplies.
I’d spent the time outlining some ideas I had for a new tattoo.
The bedroom has a few of my things in there, including my phone charger so I grab that too.
Saint hovers behind me. I can feel the tension radiating from him as I move past him.
“I told you that you’ll hate me sometimes.
This is blowing way out of proportion, we should be having sex right now, letting me praise and adore you for your control.
It was a difficult act to perform in public, and you were incredible. ”
I shake my head. He doesn’t realise his mistake in this. “I didn’t safeword because it wasn’t a scene. It was a date.”
He reaches for me, but I step away, so he stands in front of me, barring me from leaving. “What the fuck are you talking about? You had a fucking butt plug up your arse. Jesus, Noah, what was I supposed to think?”
“That’s the problem, you can only think as a Dom. I’m worth more than only being your submissive. Can you let me leave, please?”
“No.”
I find my back to the wall and his solid body pressed against mine, his mouth hard on mine, as his cock thickens and lengthens against my stomach.
This isn’t what I want. He’s bullying me into acquiescing, giving in to him.
As I push him away, turning my face away from his, he falters. Moving a step back.
“Not now, Saint. It’s not fair, you can’t control everything with sex.”
“Y’see, that’s where you’re wrong. That’s what I do, and you knew that about me.”
I shake my head, exasperated, and move towards the front door. “When you said you didn’t know how to be a boyfriend, I didn’t realise that it meant you weren’t going to try.”