He sees the moment when fear turns to full-blown panic, sees the terror overtake the dark-haired sub, so he’s ready for the next round of fear-induced struggling. He rides it out, uses his body weight to keep Rafe pressed against the wall and in place. The fear he sees in the other man’s eyes, the terror that’s only growing instead of fading, helps him to lock down on his own desires, that deep-seated need to show Rafe his place as he realizes slowly that something beyond his understanding is taking place.
He loosens his grip on Rafe, watches as the fear retreats a bit but still not far enough for his liking as he forces his expression to soften, for the anger to drain from his features bit by bit.
“Rafe, I’m not going to hurt you. You know that so explain this to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” He gentles his voice, likes the way Rafe softens a bit at the sound of it and is surprised when the submissive immediately begins to talk.
“Noah used to…he would always…” Rafe can’t seem to find his words, can’t seem to form a coherent sentence.
Josiah releases him slowly and takes a step back until he’s no longer touching Rafe at all. He sees the way it helps the submissive calm down, sees how he’s able to get a better grip on himself. Josiah is equal parts pleased that he has such an effect on the man, that he can unsettle Rafe as much as Rafe unsettles him, but he’s displeased that it’s manifesting in such a negative manner. Rafe takes a deep breath and rubs at his wrists before he continues on, a bit calmer than before but still obviously shaken.
3“Noah’s a two and he doesn’t understand that I, people like me and you, subs and doms of higher tiers need the scene, the byplay more often than he does. That it’s different when you’re a four or even a three. He didn’t feel the need for it that often, didn’t have the same desires and needs that I do. But when he did…when he did it was…horrible.” Rafe shudders and Josiah has to stop himself from reaching out to him, from offering comfort that he knows might not be welcome when Rafe is so busy reliving something so obviously unpleasant.
“He’s a sadist, likes the blood and the screams and isn’t much for aftercare. I tried to explain to him and to Mistress Jean that I’m not a masochist, and that we weren’t suited for each other but they wouldn’t listen.
Jean would go on and on about it being my duty, reminding me that our family owed Noah a sub and that I was it. I never understood it, could never find any information on anything like that no matter how hard I looked. And Noah, it made him so angry and he’d punish me even though we hadn’t entered into a contract yet.”
Rafe looks up then, meets Josiah’s eyes head on and Josiah braces himself, because he knows that what Rafe’s about to say is going to break him.
“When I started fighting back, when it got to be too much, he’d have a few of his guard help him tie me down and he’d tell me…he’d tell me that he was going to make me love it, make me love him.”
Josiah springs back as if burned, his hands coming up to fist in his own hair to keep himself from doing something else stupid, like reaching for Rafe or punching a hole through the apartment wall. Both of those things were liable to frighten or upset the submissive even more than he already had.
“Rafe. I would never…there’s nothing…fuck! I would never hurt you if you were mine, not like that.
Anything between us would always be consensual and you’d always have the right to truly say no, and if you used your word I’d immediately back off. I’m not like Frisch. I’m not.”
Josiah isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince, himself or Rafe, but the idea of falling into the same category as Frisch makes him want to eat his pistol. He begins to pace back and forth down the narrow hallway, trying his best to ignore the way Rafe’s eyes follow his every movement, all wary watchfulness and alert tension.
“I want you. I’ve made no secret of that fact to anyone. Hell, everyone but you understands that to be a complete truth. So I’m not going to deny that I want you.”
Josiah looks up then and makes eye contact with Rafe, his own dark eyes clashing with Rafe’s green as he tries his best to emphasize just how serious he is.
“But it’s different than what Frisch wanted out of you. You owe me nothing, you owe him nothing, and I don’t see you as anything less than what you are. I want you at my feet and at my side, in each and every way I can get you and a few that I haven’t thought of yet. I’m not going to pretend that I don’t, but I would never do what he did to you. There would be rules, regulations for both of us, things that would be discussed and agreed upon before we entered into a contract.”
Josiah clamps his mouth shut, aware that he’s pleading his case when he probably shouldn’t be. Instead he takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself back down. It’s surprisingly hard to do, further proof of just how twisted up into knots Rafe has managed to get him.
“There are things we need to discuss, the reason why I was so angry about you leaving among them, but now’s not the best time. I’m going to go to my room and I would like for you to stay here. You’re welcome to do anything you want to. Just please don’t leave the apartment.”
He manages to get the words out as calmly and as evenly as he can and he’s relieved when Rafe gives him a 3cautious nod of agreement from his place against the wall. Unable to continue looking at the submissive’s still slightly fearful face without doing something stupid Josiah turns on his heel and strides towards his own bedroom. The door closes behind him with a quiet click and he sinks back against the sturdy wood, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest.
He’d almost made a mistake that would have haunted them both for the rest of their lives.
3Chapter Ten
Josiah spends the remainder of the night in his room, forcefully resisting the urge to head back out into the rest of the apartment and show Rafe just how tender and unlike Frisch he can be. He doesn’t give into the urge; he stays strong and finally manages to catch a few hours of uneasy sleep somewhere around dawn.
When he drags himself out of bed and stumbles bare chested and bleary eyed into the kitchen he stops abruptly and blinks confusedly for a moment at the sight that greets him.
There’s a truly impressive spread of food across the counter and table, all of it set out as if waiting for him to inspect it. Josiah looks around, vaguely puzzled and feeling as if he’s missed something important, but Rafe is nowhere to be seen. He wanders into the eating area, and sees that the table is laid out for one and that’s where he finds Rafe and he can’t help the way he sucks in his breath harshly at the sight of him.
The submissive is kneeling beside the chair at the head of the table and while that alone is a delicious sight it’s the way he’s dressed that causes Josiah’s cock to harden almost painfully. Rafe’s dressed in the traditional garb of a submissive proposing a contract to a dominant and the sight of it, the message that he’s silently sending, is enough to strain Josiah’s already weak control over his instincts.
Rafe is bare from the waist up, clad only in the thin, form fitting black shorts that are embossed with his family crest in delicate silver stitches. Josiah isn’t sure where he’d managed to get a pair from since he’d arrived with only the clothes on his back and what Josiah himself had purchased for him. He can practically smell Marcel’s involvement in this so he pushes the question to the back of his mind.
His hair has been even more carefully groomed than normal, pampered until it falls in a gleaming silky wave to his glistening and obviously lightly oiled shoulders. His collar has been polished until it shines as bright and pristine as the day it’d first been soldered on. His whole body, from the way he’s dressed to the way his head is bent meekly so that he stares at the floor, is an invitation, one that Josiah is confused about but helplessly drawn to.
His bare feet are nearly silent as he pads across the smooth wooden floor until he’s standing directly in front of Rafe. Almost against his will his hand reaches out and he runs his thick fingers through the heavy fall of Rafe’s silky hair,
his eyes drifting closed for a moment at the exquisite feeling of those glorious tresses catching on the calluses that decorate his fingertips. Rafe leans into the touch like a large sleek cat, all fluid movements and deliciously sculpted lines.
Josiah wants this, wants to accept what Rafe is so obviously offering, but he knows that he can’t. He knows that it’s too much of a switch from the night before to accept it without questions. Instead he trails the hand currently entangled in Rafe’s hair through the clinging strands until he can fully cup the back of the other man’s head and uses his hold on him to tilt the submissive’s face up towards his own. Once they’re looking each other directly in the eye Josiah asks the question that’s currently burning inside of him.
“Why?” It comes out hoarse and rough but Josiah doesn’t care.
All he cares about is the way that Rafe’s looking up at him, emerald eyes soft with fragile trust and need apparent in his gaze. It’s a look that makes Josiah burn, that ignites all of the instincts to dominate and control that live just beneath his civilized surface. It’s the look a submissive gives a dominant when in need, the look that screams out that person’s desire to serve and be loved in return, to give and be cherished in turn. It’s something Josiah’s almost never truly hoped to see directed at himself outside of the pleasure houses.
When Rafe speaks his voice is low, his tone respectful and yet not as meek as his position portrays. There’s a 3subtle fire in his words that sets something within Josiah at ease. There’s a spark in Rafe’s eyes that reassures Josiah that the passion and steel that had attracted him to begin with are still there.
“Last night you showed me something I’d never seen before from a dominant in charge of my care. You showed me restraint. You could have taken what you wanted, could have tried at least, and there would have been little I would have been able to do to stop you. We both know that even though I’m skilled you’re far better. Noah…Frisch, he never stopped no matter what I said or did. That last day, when I finally broke out, he was going to do something new, something with needles and sedatives and I knew that if I didn’t stop him I would never wake up again. I didn’t want to die by his hands, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, so I ran and when I didn’t see a way out I tried to make one. The guilt eats at me because I know that someone else will be given to him in my place, another made to suffer his sickness no matter how they felt about it.
Mistress Jean is so adamant that our family owes him a debt that she gave me to him even though I never signed a contract. I know she would have given him whoever she could get her hands on.”
Josiah flexes his hand against the back of Rafe’s head, the light action meant to soothe, to show Rafe that he’s here and listening, to ground him in the present and keep him from getting swept away in the past. He’s pleased when Rafe’s shoulders relax slightly, the tension that had begun to build within him lowering a bit as the lines around his eyes and mouth smooth out.
“But you, Josiah, you stopped. You reacted at the first sign of real distress. You stopped and you soothed me, let me speak and have my own emotions, not just the ones you’d decided I had a right to feel. You controlled but you also cared, like I’d always dreamed a dom would.”
Rafe breaks off then, his eyes darting down and away from Josiah’s, and Josiah has to control his displeased growl. He doesn’t like it when Rafe speaks to him without eye contact, doesn’t like the loss of a possible connection between them even though he knows that he doesn’t have the right to demand it. Rafe has made a silent offer but nothing has been settled, nothing has been agreed upon, and thus Josiah has no actual rights.
Not yet.
“Even when I hit you, even then you held tight and didn’t try to punish me, didn’t try to hurt me back.”
“Don’t think for a second that I didn’t want to punish you, Rafe. Don’t think I’m some sort of saint who doesn’t have those urges because I do. I wanted to show you your place, wanted to do so much to you, but I didn’t.”
“That’s my point, Josiah. I deserved it. You wanted to do it and I deserved it, but you didn’t and that’s something that I’ve never seen before. That type of restraint is something that I wasn’t even sure existed.”
Josiah studies Rafe, eyes tracking the way his tongue flits out to lap nervously at his bottom lip, the way his lashes fan out against his cheeks every time he blinks. He damns himself for asking but he knows that he’ll always regret it if they enter into this under false pretenses.
“Are you sure this is what you want? Once we’ve entered into a contract I’m not going to let you go easily. I fight to keep what’s mine, Rafe. You’ll never be a prisoner, but you will be chained to me. You do understand that, don’t you? I’ll own you in every way, and I’ll ask you for everything and will give you everything in return.”
Rafe’s breathing goes shallow and there’s alight blush across the sun kissed skin of his cheeks when he makes eye contact with Josiah again. The sight of it has Josiah licking his lips, wanting to run his tongue across the line of red to see if that blush tastes as delicious as it looks. Unable to resist the urge Josiah leans down and brushes a sweet kiss across Rafe’s parted lips, lets his tongue dip inside briefly but withdraws to run his mouth across Rafe’s cheekbones when the submissive tries to draw him into a deeper kiss.
3He tracks his mouth back across the smooth skin of Rafe’s face until their lips are once again flush with each other in an almost chaste kiss, but this time he speaks so that Rafe can hear and feel his words as he says them.
“So is that what you want? Do you want to be mine, Rafe? To belong to me and only me? To perhaps one day Bond with me so that none can ever come between us? Would you give yourself to me and take all that I would give to you in return?”
Rafe shudders beneath his hand, a move that echoes the night before, and Josiah sees his pupils go wide with desire, a flush of lust lighting his face up even further.
“You would…you would consider Bonding? With me? What of the Disavowal? Would you have me give myself to you only to be shamed in such a way?”
Josiah’s hand tightens where he’s gripping the other man’s hair as the mere mention of Disavowing Rafe sends rage coursing through his veins. He pulls Rafe further up onto his knees by his hold on his hair and bends so that he can nip sharply at the small dark bruises dotting the other man’s throat from the night before. He bites down on one that’s situated just below his ear before pulling back to lap at it with his tongue and then he moves his mouth back to its previous position.
“Never. The Disavowal would never happen. You’d be mine until death ripped one of us away. There are things about me, things about my past that you don’t know, but rest assured that you will never be shamed in such a manner. So give me your answer, Rafe. Is this what you want? Will you honor your offer and enter into a contract with me?”
“Yes.”
Josiah doesn’t wait for Rafe to say anything more than that single word of approval, can’t make himself wait any longer. He knows that overall he’ll have to take things slower than he wants to, that Rafe is still healing mentally and emotionally even if his body is fit and sound. He knows that Rafe isn’t ready for everything Josiah wants from him yet even if he’s agreed to a contract between them. He knows all of this but he refuses to wait to have a taste of him, refuses to be denied this one simple thing.
His hands flow down to grip Rafe’s slick shoulders and he pulls the submissive up with him until they’re both standing, facing each other with barely any space between them. In one swift move he spins Rafe around so that his back is to the table and with a careful hand guides him until he’s sitting on the edge of the thick wood. They both ignore the quiet tinkling of glass shifting as his movement rocks the place setting beside him.
“You made me breakfast. I’d like to have it now.”
Rafe looks at him, confused for a second before he blushes lightly, a display that Josiah is now sure will never fail to attract hi
s attention. Josiah smirks slightly at him, wondering if Rafe for all of his intelligence will really understand what he’s insinuating. He doesn’t actually give him a chance to respond, just surges forward and takes Rafe’s mouth in another scorching kiss now that he officially has the right.
His tongue plunges deep, tracing its way across Rafe’s teeth and tangling their tongues together until the taste of Rafe threatens to overwhelm his senses. His hands are drawn almost magnetically to Rafe, his desire to touch and learn every inch of the submissive overtaking him. One hand finds its now familiar place tangled in Rafe’s thick locks as he props himself up on his elbow above the man’s prone form, while the other trails down over the sleek lines of his collarbone to pluck teasingly at one of his already beaded nipples.
Rafe groans into the kiss, his body surging upwards against the weight of Josiah’s own heavily muscled 3frame. Josiah urges him back down by softly stroking the taunt lines of his abdomen and then ramps him back up by tracing the lines of his muscles with his nails, leaving thin pink lines behind from the pressure. His mouth continues to plunder Rafe’s for a moment before he rips it away only to latch it onto what is fast becoming his favorite spot on Rafe’s neck. He sucks at the ever darkening bruise just below the submissive’s ear, worrying it with teeth and tongue, and growls low in his throat, pleased with the hard edged groan the action rips from Rafe’s throat.
Finally when the bruise is dark enough to satisfy him for the moment he trails his mouth down over those enticing collarbones to latch onto the nipple his fingers aren’t currently torturing. He stays there for a moment, nipping at the bud with his teeth and then lapping at it with his tongue to soothe the sting while Rafe groans lowly beneath him. Finally though his attention is drawn elsewhere, to the feel of Rafe’s cock pressing against his bare stomach through the thin fabric of his shorts.
Love in the Land of Fire Page 6