Chapter 30
Tristan
After Nick throws the ambulance into park, he says, without looking at me, “Come to my bunk room in ten minutes. Make sure no one sees you.”
Well.
How’s that for clear instructions?
I spend the next ten minutes in a borderline panic, rethinking everything that got me to this point.
Yes, I want this, but I didn’t expect Nick to propose that we do this now.
Here.
At work.
Terrifying, but the forbidden nature of that is appealing, in its own way.
One of the biggest reasons I’m almost panicking? I have nothing sexy with me.
I have nothing sex-related at all. I mean, I’m at work! I don’t bring dildos, condoms, and lube to work. That would be ridiculous.
All I have are my PrEP pills in my toiletries, because even though I haven’t been sexually active since Warren’s death, I’ve taken them daily.
Always better to be prepared.
But this? This, I am not prepared for.
The ten minutes pass too quickly.
I glare at myself in my mirror.
“You can do this, Tristan. You can be sexy. You can be fun. You can be submissive. You want this, goddamn it.”
And then I realize something.
Nick told me to go, so I’m going to go. Not because he’s forcing me, but because I want to follow his instructions.
Almost immediately, my anxiety disappears.
I have nothing to be anxious about. Just by going, I’m doing what he’s asked—no, what he’s told—me to do.
I find that thought incredibly arousing. I can be obedient. I want to be obedient. I want to do what he’s told me to do. I want to make him happy.
To please him.
The hallway outside my bunk room is empty. We’re on a time limit, an unknown one. The next call could come any second, and as soon as it does, that’s the end of whatever this situation, this scene, is about to be.
I hurry from my room down the hall and knock twice on Nick’s door.
He makes me wait. Almost a minute.
And then he opens the door.
My breath catches in my throat. He’s wearing his uniform, leaning casually against the doorframe, smiling down at me. He has several inches of height on me, and it’s never seemed as significant as now.
“You came,” he says softly.
My answer is simple. “You told me to.”
He nods, like that’s what he wanted to hear.
“Come in.” It’s a command, not a request.
He shuts the door behind me, and I look around his bunk room. It’s very similar to mine, just a little more decorated. He’s been here years longer than I have, and has had the time to make his space his own. It’s fastidiously clean, which doesn’t surprise me.
“Should we, um, talk?” I suggest. “About, you know, everything?”
He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at me curiously. “Do you want to talk?”
I think about it. Do I want to, or do I think we should?
“No,” I say after a beat. “I don’t want to talk.”
He takes a step closer. “What do you want to do instead?”
I swallow. “I want you to tell me.”
A raised eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yes. Tell me what to do.”
Another step closer. “What if I told you to get on your knees? What then?”
“I’d get on my knees.”
The thought of it, the delicious thought of it, makes me hard immediately.
I wonder if he can see my growing erection through my pants. If so, I don’t care. Let him see. Let him know what he does to me.
He bites his lower lip. “And if I told you I was going to use your mouth how I wanted to, what then?”
“Use it.”
“So good,” he murmurs. “So obedient.”
Right about then, I realize what we’re doing. We’re negotiating consent. We’re deciding the boundaries of what we’re about to do—a scene.
“Just tell me what to do,” I whisper desperately.
He reaches behind him and locks the door.
“Come here.”
I make it one step closer before he seizes me.
He is so strong, so big, that there wouldn’t be anything I could do to stop him from holding me, even if I wanted to.
He takes me and presses me up to the wall, hard enough that it almost hurts.
I’m held in place, immobile, by his body.
One of his hands pins my wrists above my head, the other finds my throat, closes gently around my neck.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.
My heart is racing, my breathing shallow, but I nod, almost frantic. Yes, this is what I want. Yes, this is what I need.
“You need to say it,” he whispers. “I need to hear you say you want this.”
“I want this,” I gasp. I will beg if I must.
He pulls back, just enough to look into my eyes.
He is so close, so handsome, so much, it’s overwhelming. My entire world, right now, is Nick. He consumes everything else, pushes away any other thoughts. It is just him.
“What do you want?” he murmurs, his mouth dangerously close to mine.
I say the first words that come to mind, because they ring irredeemably true.
“To be used.”
He smiles.
“To be used,” he repeats.
I nod. Beyond that, I can’t move. I’m trapped between him and the wall, and there’s nowhere else I’d want to be.
And then he crushes his mouth to mine, melting me beneath him.
His kiss is hot, full, and deep. His tongue pushes into my mouth, swirls inside me, like he would consume me if he could.
His hand tightens around my throat, and I buck involuntarily against him, pressing my body even closer to his.
I can hardly breathe, and I don’t care. Who needs oxygen when you have this?
The fear that I might feel in this situation is completely absent. I trust Nick. He’s doing this because I’ve asked him to, because I’ve told him it’s what I want.
I know beyond any doubt that if I told him I didn’t want it, he wouldn’t even touch me.
He breaks free of our kiss, leaving me gasping, almost dizzy, only to lavish hungry kisses on my neck, my jaw, my ear.
“You…” he whispers, biting my earlobe, “taste…” he licks the sensitive skin beneath my ear, sending shivers through my body, “so good.”
And before I can reply, he kisses me again on the mouth, this kiss softer than before, more searching. There was violence and hunger in our first kiss, but in this one, there is only curiosity, desire.
His hold on me is strong, perfect, immobilizing. He spins me around so that my chest is flat against the wall, and his body flush to my back. He encases me fully with his arms and torso, my arms pinned behind my back, between us.
“Is this what you needed?” he asks, his voice hoarse and low. “Is this how you like to be used?”
“Yes,” I gasp. Yes, this is everything. Yes, this is perfect.
Yes, just being held by him is more fulfilling than any sex I’ve had before, and I’ve had good sex.
This exchange of power, this act of surrender, is drawing pleasure from me that I didn’t know I could experience.
My cock is aching to be touched, my hole throbbing to be filled.
“Yes, what?”
Electricity jolts through me. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s right. Is this how you want me to pin you down when I fuck you?”
The thought of it…I’m leaking, I’m sure of it, in my underwear, staining them with precum.
“Yes, sir.”
His hand closes around my throat, tightening enough to make it hard for me to breathe. “Is this how you want me to choke you when I make you take my cock?”
“Yes, sir,” I wheeze. “Please.”
“That’s exactly how you’ll beg for me when you’ve felt my cock inside you.”
And I can’t wait to feel that cock inside me.
“Please,” I gasp. “Please, sir.”
“Please, what?” he sounds almost angry, and I’m desperate to please him.
“Please fuck me,” I whisper. There are tears in my eyes, I’m so desperate. I didn’t know it was possible to need something as much as I suddenly need this.
I feel the warmth of his breath close to my ear as he whispers, “No.”
What?
No?
I try to twist, to turn, to face him, but I’m still pinned. “No?”
“No.” He kisses my neck. “Not yet. Not until I know exactly what sort of filthy, unspeakable things you need me to do to you.”
His tongue tickles my ear.
“You’re new to this. I’m not. I have more experience than you, and I refuse to take advantage of that.
Sure, I want nothing more than to stretch your pretty hole out and fuck you until you can’t walk, but I need to know exactly what kinks you’re interested in, exactly what you want and need.
And you need to know the same for me. We need to know if we’re compatible. ”
The way that his hard cock is pressed against my ass right now makes me pretty sure that we’re compatible, but I don’t say that. He has a good point. I am new to this, and I don’t want to mess it up.
“How…” I stifle a moan as his long fingers touch my neck, close lightly around my throat. “How do you want me to tell you what—what I need?”
Suddenly, he releases me. I feel naked without him on me, around me. I am exposed, cold, vulnerable. I slowly turn from the wall, pressing my back to it, like it can support me in his absence.
Each of our bunk rooms has a heavy desk, the sort of piece you’d find in a dorm room. Nick reaches into one of the drawers and draws out a few sheets of paper, stapled together.
“Here,” he says. “Have you seen one of these before?”
I manage to focus my lust-addled thoughts long enough to read the paper. I blink, my cheeks burning. It’s a BDSM, Kink, and Fetish checklist.
“Oh wow,” I say. “Um, I mean, I’ve seen like the online quizzes. And filled out a Grindr profile. But never anything like this.”
“I want you to complete it, fully and honestly. I want you to be incredibly specific about everything you want and need, and then show it to me. I’ve already done mine, and you don’t get to see it until you’ve finished yours.”
My mouth waters as I read a few of the things on the paper: cum play…ball gags…anal fisting…cock and ball torture…water sports.
With few exceptions, I know what everything on this paper is.
Even though I haven’t experimented much with others, my Private Browser and I have gotten intimately familiar with the world of kink, thanks to the proliferation of kink- and fetish-focused adult creators.
I have a pretty good idea of what I want, of what I need, and the thought of telling Nick is exhilarating.
Nick stares evenly at me, his gaze intense, focused.
“I can guarantee you, Tristan, there won’t be a single thing you say you want and need that I don’t want to do.”
I see it, then, the contained hunger in his eyes. Nick wants this, maybe even more than I do.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll do it.” I’ll do anything for him. Anything.
“Good boy.”
He comes close and grabs my cock through my pants, squeezing just enough to make me gasp.
“And when you finish, I’m going to reward you. Until then? This,” and he squeezes my cock, my balls, harder, “You don’t touch this. You save this for me.”
“Yes, sir,” I gasp.
“Very good.”
He releases my cock, lays both hands gently on my shoulders, and presses a soft, tender kiss to my forehead.
“I’m very excited to read it when you’re done.”