Chapter 32
Grimes
Florian and I sit at the kitchen table wearing nothing but underwear.
We don’t need to get dressed for breakfast anymore and I can run my eyes over his lean, muscled torso anytime I want.
That doesn’t mean the novelty has worn off.
When he speaks, I have to ask him to repeat himself because I was too lost in admiring his physique…
and the love bites I’ve Ieft all over it.
“I said, what are we doing today, Boss?” Florian says.
He must have some plan in mind. I can tell by the hopeful look in his eyes.
Also, he has the local newspaper all ready beside him, just like when the fair was in town.
I don’t make all our decisions of course, but when he acts like this I know he wants me to take over.
However, he’s still a spoiled little aristocrat at heart.
He wants me to take charge, but to decide in accordance with his wishes.
“What do you want to do?” I ask, laughing to myself because I already know his next line.
“It’s up to you, Boss.” He gets all demure, eyes downcast and dark eyelashes bushing his soft cheek, looking so beautiful it breaks my heart. I run a finger over his cheekbone and he looks up at me, hitting me with his sunny smile. That smile alone is enough to melt every care in my tired muscles.
“What have you got in mind?” I say. “Come on, out with it.”
He opens up the newspaper and and points to a page. There’s sketch of a very stylish-looking man with long blond hair and a big, smug smile. Underneath, the headline reads “Famous Rhennian hair stylist Rab Backman in Galbrava for one week only!”
“I was thinking I could use a haircut,” Florian says, though I’ve already gotten the drift.
“Rab is the best hairstylist anywhere. I used to visit him all the time back in Rhennes. I miss him.” A wistful note creeps into his voice.
As usual, I long to ease his pain and bring back the happiness to his face.
“Of course,” I say. “I’ll take you into town after breakfast. We’ll go before it gets too hot.”
Florian’s eyes light up, the wistfulness vanishing. And then his gaze gets mischievous.
“You know, I was thinking I could get my head shaved,” he says. “Just like you.”
My heart drops into my stomach. Shave his beautiful hair? No more burying my nose in it after we make love, drinking in the scents of his post-sex sweat? No more tangling my fingers in it and gently guiding his head down onto my waiting cock.
“Er…” I say, hedging for time.
He bursts out laughing. “Kidding, Boss. You think I’d ever go for that?”
He starts to put his hair up in its velvet tie, looking proud of himself. Of his beautiful hair, and the fact that he fooled me good.
“Florian,” I growl. “That wasn’t very....”
“What?” He grins at me.
“I’m the only one allowed to tease around here.”
His hands go still on his hair as I grasp his chin hard.
“On my lap, now,” I order. “We need to get you back into line.”
“Yes, Boss,” he whispers.
A subtle flush creeps up his neck as he does what I say, arranging himself in my lap, straddling me with his legs either side of mine. His crotch inches close to my stomach. Excitement builds in his eyes as he waits for my next words.
“Hands behind your back, eyes closed,” I snap.
He does what I say in an instant, trusting to my steady hands on his hips to hold him safe and upright.
He tips his head to one side, listening hard for any signal now because he can’t see what I’m thinking.
His lips part a little as he waits for my next touch or word, but he stays silent and obedient.
I run my thumb over his full bottom lip and his body tenses with pleasure.
His cock begins to swell, showing clearly through his thin underwear.
His arousal caused only by my command and by the simple touch on his lip.
“I’ll have to teach you not to tease,” I say.
“Yes, Boss.”
“The trouble with aristocrats is that they forget their place sometimes.”
I slide my thumb into his mouth for him to suck on before he can answer me back. He starts to suckle eagerly, unashamed of how fast his erection is growing as I bully him.
“You’re good at making me forget I’m an aristocrat,” he mumbles.
“You like forgetting it?”
“Mmm-mm.” His affirmative moans get throaty and deep. “Anyway, I’m not an aristocrat here.”
“What are you?”
I take my thumb out of his mouth because I want to hear this clearly.
“Your humble servant,” he whispers. “Yours.”
Pleasure shivers through me, but I take a breath and ignore it. This is about Florian’s pleasure.
“And you like it when I put you in your place,” I say.
He moans yes again. I drive my thumb back into his mouth, deeper this time, making him gasp and buck his hips into me, involuntary.
He’s so turned on he’s squirming in my lap, trying to press himself into my body that he can’t see.
I have to focus hard to hold him steady with one hand.
He should be afraid of falling. But he doesn’t move his hands from behind his back.
They’re as good as tied by my orders. I’m humbled by his trust, holding him more tightly with my left hand. I won’t let him fall.
I palm his cock through his underwear, rubbing my hand against its firm length.
He whimpers and presses himself against me, eyes still closed.
His breath shortens as I let him grind against me.
I stroke his cock through his underwear, a mix of hard strokes and soft teasing, listening to the rhythm of this breathing, playing by the little flutters of his eyelashes as pleasure rips through him.
His neck tenses, tendons at the sides straining, and he sits up straighter in my lap.
His cock pulses beneath my fingers. A low moan comes from deep in his throat.
And then wetness soaks through his underwear into my hand, onto my bare stomach.
He relaxes into satisfied stillness in my lap.
But he still doesn’t move from the position I ordered him into.
“Eyes open,” I say softly.
I need to see the satisfaction and pleasure in his blue eyes with their little gold specks.
They don’t disappoint. They’re dazed, almost sleepy, pupils fully blown out after his surprise climax.
He smiles his thanks at me. He wasn’t expecting that sudden pleasure this morning at the breakfast table.
Watching him take it from me feels as good as if it were my own climax.
“Now, should I let you change before we go into town?” I say. “Or should I make you walk around in dirty underwear all day as punishment for teasing me?”
“Up to you, Boss,” he says.
But behind his back his hands tense slightly, showing me what he really wants.
He wants to be allowed to change clothes.
We have our safe word kive flowers, but he’s never had to use it.
I’m too good at reading his desires, his limits.
It’s a responsibly I take seriously. I accept it for the gift it is.
“Are you sorry you teased me?” I ask.
“Yes, Boss,” he whispers.
“All right then. Stand up and face over there.”
He does what I say, turning his back to me. I swat his butt a couple of times with my palm.
“Okay,” I say. “That’s punishment enough. Go and get cleaned up and changed. Quickly now.”
“Thank you, Boss,” he says.
He scuttles for the door, suitably chastised, then turns and looks back at me.
His smile is wide, and his eyes are almost drunk-looking with happiness.
The word dreamy comes to mind. It’s not a word I ever associated with myself before I met Florian.
I never knew I could make someone look like that. So satisfied, so… happy.
**
I hate to bring him back down to earth. But as we walk into town to meet the hairstylist, I have no choice. I’ve procrastinated long enough. He deserves the truth.
“Florian, we need to talk… about what we’re going to do next,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Let’s sit.”
We settle down in the shade of a gnarled tree. It feels a little easier to talk about it here, away from my house and the gym foundations: the evidence of my ruined dream.
“We need to decide what we’re going to do for work,” I say.
Florian looks at me, surprised, his face shadowed under the wide-brimmed hat he always wears to protect him from the sun.
“What do you mean?” he says. “What about your boxing gym?”
He sounds almost as excited about it as I am. Just another thing to love about him.
“I’m sorry, flower,” I say. “I know how hard you worked on those foundations and I’m so grateful for that. But the gym isn’t going to happen.”
His eyes widen in shock. “Why not?”
“I was refused a bank loan because of my prison sentence.”
He clenches his elegant fists, and I get my first glimpse of his fighter side. Didn’t Prevana say he’s the best at his boxing gym? For the first time, I can see it.
“Half the business owners in this town have been in prison,” he says. “Not to mention half of the authorities.”
“I know, I know.” I shrug, trying to hide my pain. “I guess I must’ve pissed off the wrong person.”
“But that’s so unfair,” he says.
“It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it. I have other dreams now.”
I kiss him, trying to melt his anger. But when I pull back, he still looks stubborn.
“This isn’t right,” he says. “Surely there’s something we can do.”