I smile at the memory and lean into Lars. “Can I wear my collar? I think I’ll feel calmer if I have it on.”
“Anything you want,” he promises indulgently, and I wonder if I freak out enough if there’s anything he wouldn’t do for me. “I’ll get it for you, hold on.”
He opens the duffle bag with my other gear in it and pulls out the collar, returning to me and gesturing for me to lean down so he can reach to put it on. As soon as the weight is around my neck and the soft leather is brushing against my skin, my nerves dissipate.
I am owned and I am loved.
If we hate the puppy romp or I get uncomfortable, Lars will fix it; he’ll bring me home and do something else to make me happy, because he’s my Master and that’s his job.
“Feeling better, pup?”
“Much.”
I look in the mirror at my shirt again, and this time I love it like I did when I first put it on. It has a collar on it and the words Good Boy, and it’s absolutely perfect. Rather than a jockstrap tonight, I decided on a pair of short black shorts. I’m sure there will be guys there wearing far less or even nothing but their puppy things, but I’m nowhere near ready for that; I’m not sure if that part will ever be for me.
“Ready to go?” Lars asks, and I give a resolute nod, reaching for his hand and letting him lead me out of the house.
It takes about half an hour to get to the club, and when we do, Lars opens my car door for me and carries my bag as we head inside. I’m vibrating with excitement as we step through the door to the kink club where the event is being held. Coincidentally, or perhaps not so much so, it’s the same club I made my brief foray into BDSM back in college. Tonight, there’s a very different energy in the place though. It’s the same energy I noticed from the puppies at Pride, the same energy that drew me to them to begin with.
Puppies standing upright or on all fours are everywhere, barking, wrestling, running around. Some of them stay close to their handlers while others seem to be more or less on their own. As I suspected, some are completely naked, unashamed of their erections swinging in front of them as they jump and play, while others are dressed similar to me in t-shirts or tank tops and shorts.
“Do you want your hood and everything?” Lars offers, and I nod eagerly, feeling a buzz of excitement running along my skin. I want to make friends; I want to play.
Lars leads me over to a quiet corner so he can set the bag down. “Are you okay with getting ready quickly here, or would you rather find somewhere private where we can take a few minutes like we usually do?”
“I think here’s okay,” I answer, bouncing on my toes and looking over my shoulder at all the fun going on.
Lars chuckles. “Anxious to play?”
I nod again with enthusiasm and take the kneepads when he hands them to me. As I bend to slip each one on, it occurs to me that every other time we’ve played, Lars has dressed me in every single item. A small sense of loss fills me for having done part of it myself, so when he holds up the hood, instead of taking it myself, I get on my hands and knees and let him do it for me.
He does the rest for me as well, attaching the tail with the belt and then putting my mitts on my hands.
“What do you think, Lucky, ready to play?”
I let out a high yip, wiggling and feeling odd about not being able to feel my tail. I turn around to make sure it’s there, and when it wiggles with my movement, I bark again and try to catch it in my teeth just to see if I can.
I’m not sure if it’s the dizziness or Lars’ warm laugh that distracts me from my mission to catch my tail, but once I stop, I realize there are a lot more interesting things to do here than chase my own tail.
“Let’s go see about making some friends.”
Lars
At the suggestion of making friends, Jonah bounds out of the corner and toward the fray while I hurry to keep up with him.
“Heel, Lucky,” I call, and he skids to a halt and then loops back to me, nudging the backs of my knees to get me to move faster.
When we near the activity, a small, pink pup comes bounding over to us. Not only is his hood pink, but his fluffy tail is pink and sparkly, as is his collar, knee pads, and hand mitts. He’s even wearing a pair of pink leather shorts. He barks excitedly, plopping down in a sit directly in front of me, and it’s not until I see his eyes that I realize it’s Adrian.
I bend over to pat his head, but a harsh voice stops me.
“It’s poor etiquette to pet a puppy without their Master’s permission.”
“Oh, sorry. We’re really new to this,” I apologize.
He makes an unimpressed sound in the back of his throat, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Jonah takes up a position at my feet, and I can feel the quiet rumble of him growling.
“It’s okay, Lucky; I didn’t know any better,” I say calmly, not letting on how big of a dick Adrian’s boyfriend…er, handler? Is he both? Seems to be. “I think our pups know each other. This is Lucky.”
“Diva,” he points at his puppy. “Nathan,” he points at himself.
“Can they play?”
“That’s fine.”
Mr. Congeniality, everyone.
“Go play, Lucky,” I command, and he gives a quick bark before he and Diva run off together.
I watch for a few minutes as they tussle and tumble around, other puppies joining in.
“If you’re new to this, I’ll give you a few tips,” Diva’s handler offers gruffly after a while. I’d forgotten that he was still standing there, actually; I was so engrossed in watching Jonah play.
“Sure, I always appreciate advice.”
“Puppies need a firm hand. If you let them get away with murder just because they’re cute, they won’t be happy. They like being told what to do and how to do it, it’s why they’re puppies.”
I try not to let the skepticism show on my face. Maybe that’s true for some pups, but it’s not exactly the general sense I’ve gotten and certainly not from Jonah. Sure, he likes that I’ve taken charge of certain things, but a firm hand certainly isn’t what he’s interested in.
“I thought they’re puppies because they like the escape and the care from their masters,” I respond as politely as I can manage.
He snorts a derisive laugh. “I can see yours already has you wrapped around his finger. It’ll end badly, letting him have free reign.”
“I appreciate the advice, and I may be new to puppies, but I’m not new to Jonah. So, thanks, but I think we’ll be just fine.”
Our puppies come running back over to us, out of breath but the glee shining in Jonah’s eyes is enough to make having to talk to Diva’s asshole handler worth it.
“Time to go, Diva,” Nathan commands, and Diva whines. “Knock it off, I told you one hour, no complaints.” Then he spins and starts walking away quickly, leaving his pup to scramble after him.
I stoop down to Jonah’s level and ruffle his hair.
“What a dick,” I mutter, and he lets out a huff of agreement. “Need some water or a break?” I check, and he gives a little growl and shake of his head. “Okay, then go keep playing. Love you, Lucky.” I give him a quick kiss on the snout and then a gentle slap on the butt to get him moving back to his playmates.
When we get back in the car a few hours later, Jonah’s flushed and smiling, gushing about how much fun he had and what it felt like to play with other puppies.
Reaching across the center console, I take his hand and lift it to my lips so I can kiss his knuckles. “I’m glad you had fun, JJ.”
“So much fun,” he confirms. “What about you, did you have a good time?”
“Watching you have fun was great, and after Nathan left with Diva, I had a chance to talk to a few other handlers who were a lot more agreeable.”
“Good. Thank you for taking me.”
“My pleasure,” I assure him. “Now, let’s go home, because you’re tired and in need of some cuddle time to relax before bed.”
“You al
ways know exactly what I need,” he says with a happy sigh.
“I’m your Master; it’s my job.”
Chapter 21
Lars
Jonah is fast asleep, his heavy arm thrown over me, drooling on his pillow as I quietly slip out of bed, trying not to wake him. He grumbles a little in sleepy protest before rolling over and settling down again. I tiptoe over to the dresser, keeping an eye on his sleeping form as I ease the second drawer open and dig underneath all his scrubs to get what I’m looking for.
If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m laying out his work clothes for him in the mornings now, this wouldn’t have been a good hiding place. As it is, it feels almost symbolic. Our relationship has always been perfect, but this new aspect somehow managed to build on the perfection. What better day to propose than our eleventh anniversary? Although, the truth is, anniversary or not, I feel like I’ll go crazy if I have to spend much longer without my ring on his finger and my lock on his collar.
The thought of the lock makes my stomach swoop and my cock jerk. It’s funny how something that would’ve meant nothing to me a couple of months ago feels as vital as breathing now.
Pulling out the small bag containing three small boxes, I sneak back to bed, slipping under the covers and reaching for Jonah. He stirs a little, making a happy noise as I run my fingers up and down his back, waking up his nerve endings and hopefully his brain.
I draw a few random patterns, waiting for him to come to full consciousness and when his breathing is no longer slow and rhythmic with sleep, I draw a dick on his back just to check. He chuckles, his laugh gravelly from sleep, but it’s obvious he’s coming to and paying attention.
I stop drawing patterns and switch to words.
I love you.
“I love you, too.”
Marry me?
He jerks, his muscles tensing, and then he holds so still I’m sure he’s not even breathing.
“I’m not sure I got that one,” he whispers, and I bite back a smile.
Marry me? I write again, and now I’m sure he’s holding his breath because he starts to tremble after a few seconds. “Breathe, JJ.”
He lets out a whoosh of breath, turning his head to look at me. His eyes are wide with disbelief and shining with hope.
“Do you mean it?” he asks.
Reaching into the bag, I pull out the first box. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees it. It gives a small creak as I open it, turning it to face him so he can see the ring inside.
“I love you, Jonah Joseph Hill. Marry me?”
“Yes.” he sits bolt upright, reaching for the ring like it might disappear if he doesn’t move quickly enough.
I take it out of the box and help him slip it onto his finger.
“It fits,” I note with relief.
“It’s perfect,” he breaths.
“You’re perfect,” I counter.
Jonah grabs me by the back of the neck and drags me in for a deep, lingering kiss.
“We don’t have to have a long engagement, do we?” he asks when we come up for air. “I’m not sure I want to spend much longer not being married to you.”
“Actually, I booked us a room at a little B&B near Niagara Falls next week if you’re up for it.”
“To get married on a boat at the Falls?” he asks with excitement. I nod, and his smile gets even wider as he starts to wiggle and bounce on the bed. “You remembered.”
“Of course, I remembered.” Niagara Falls was the first trip we took together after we started dating. When we stood at the top of the falls, he turned to me and said this is where I want to get married. We’d only been together a month at the time, but I already knew I’d be taking him back there one day to do just that.
“I can’t believe this.” He continues to bounce, holding his hand out and looking at the ring from a dozen different angles.
“There’s something else, too. But only if you want,” I hedge, digging in the bag again and pulling out the other two boxes.
He eyes them curiously, tilting his head like a curious puppy and making me smile.
I pop the larger box open and his eyes go comically wide again at the sight of the little lock inside.
“Is that…”
“For your collar,” I finish for him. “I wasn’t sure if—”
“Of course, I want it.” Again, he reaches for it quickly—and this time I let him take it—snatching it from the box and holding it in his hands like it’s something precious. After a second, his smile turns to a look of consternation, and I preen a little at how well I know him. Without a word, I pass him the third and final box, letting him open this one himself.
His breath catches as he looks at the silver necklace with a small lock charm on it.
“This way, you can wear a lock from me, even when you can’t wear your collar. It’s small enough to tuck under your shirt even at work.”
“You always know exactly what I need,” he muses, lifting the necklace out of the box and holding it out to me so I can put it on him.
“I’m your Master; it’s my job,” I say easily.
Jonah
Even though I’m sure the necklace weighs next to nothing, I swear I can feel it like a heavy, comforting weight around my neck. The metal of the lock is cool against my skin at first but quickly warms to match my body temperature, almost like it’s becoming part of me as it hangs against my chest. I reach up and touch it and then look at the ring on my finger again.
I can’t believe Lars planned us a trip to Niagara Falls to elope. I had nearly forgotten that forever ago conversation myself, but as soon as he mentioned it, it came flooding back like it happened yesterday. The two of us standing at the top of the Falls, hand in hand. I swear I can still feel the way my heart was pounding in my chest as soon as the words left my mouth This is where I want to get married. I was sure I’d thrown a grenade into our still brand-new relationship. But instead of freaking out or getting weird about the comment, Lars had kissed my cheek and simply said Okay.
“This is nothing like what you’ve given me this morning, but I got you an anniversary present too.” I roll over and reach into the bottom drawer of my nightstand, blindly groping for the package I stashed there last week.
Compared to Lars’ gift, mine feels borderline inappropriate…although, the lock for my collar makes me feel a little better about it.
Finally, my fingers land on what I’m searching for, and I pull it out. Sitting up straight, I hand him the neatly wrapped present.
Lars tears into it with care, taking so long to unwrap it I almost want to yank it out of his hands and open it myself. When he manages to get it open, I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction. He mentioned wanting this just the once, and we never talked about it again, so I hope he likes it.
“It’s…” He swallows, staring at the item in his hand.
“A cock cage,” I supply, feeling my cheeks heat. Lars looks up at me, his pupils blown wide and his lips parted in what seems to be surprised awe. My eyes dart downward, and I notice an impressive tent in the front of his boxers. “I take it you like it?” I guess with a chuckle.
“It’s…” he says again, his loss for words an interesting departure from the normal. Lars licks his lips, his eyes darting down to the front of my underwear as well. “Does it make me a complete caveman to want to cage your cock and not let you come again until you’re my husband?”
My heart stutters, my cock going from mildly interested to fully hard in record time.
“Yes,” I answer breathlessly. “I love it.”
“You do?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Yes. Oh my god, please do it,” I groan, the thought of being caged and unable to come again until he’s inside me on our wedding night is enough to make me nearly shoot off on the spot.
A slow smile spreads over Lars’ lips.
“You can’t be hard when I do it, so we’re going to go eat breakfast and you’re going to stop thinking about how hot it’ll
be for me to have a lock not only around your neck but around your cock as well.”
“Yeah, that’ll be easy,” I reply sarcastically.
He grabs the back of my neck and drags me forward for a kiss.
“Be good for your Master,” he commands gently against my lips, and there’s not a thing in the world I wouldn’t do if he told me to.
Lars’ tongue is hot and heavy against mine as he kisses me hungrily, his fingers tangling in my hair and his nearly naked body pressed against mine.
“This really isn’t helping with the erection issue,” I pant when he starts nibbling his way down my neck.
“You’re right,” he pulls back, his lips wet and swollen from our kisses and his own hair mussed as well.
“Maybe we should have sex one more time, then you can put on the cock cage and make me wait until the wedding,” I suggest, my hand going straight for my aching erection before being intercepted by Lars who grabs it and pulls it toward himself. He runs his thumb along the ring on my finger and then bends his head to press a kiss to it.
“No,” he says firmly. “I know it’s possessive and maybe a little antiquated, but I love the idea that the next time I’ll be inside you, you’ll be my husband.”
“I like that idea too,” I agree, biting back the suggestions on the tip of my tongue of all the other ways we could celebrate our engagement this morning that wouldn’t require penetration. I understand the spirit of his idea, and I like the thought of it just as much, even if my dick isn’t in agreement.
I reluctantly climb out of bed so I’m not tempted to beg.
“Why don’t you start coffee while I make French toast for breakfast?” Lars suggests.
“After I start coffee, can I call everyone and tell them we’re engaged?”
“Sure. But you might want to wait on telling our moms until after the wedding. They’ll flip if they find out we’re eloping.”
“Good point, we can call them from Niagara Falls after the wedding.”
Stay (Working Out The Kinks Book 1) Page 13