Okay, not a roadblock, exactly. More like a mental pothole. He’d hit it, and now was worried about if he’d done any damage or not.
He didn’t like not having shit figured out. While it was something he knew about himself, it was also something he hadn’t consciously realized before. Not like this. Before, it was part and parcel of just…living.
From the other section of the dungeon, dubbed the “new” side, Colton heard the unmistakable sound of people playing. The smacks of implements against flesh, and yips, giggles, and moans. On this side, there wasn’t anyone playing yet, although it looked like a guy was preparing to do a rope suspension on the large, red, metal A-frame Scrye and June had used earlier while teaching the class.
Colton didn’t want to interrupt Rom and be pushy or even top from the bottom, but as time dragged on, he kept glancing toward the doorway. He felt a longing to be over there and one of them, instead of sitting there talking.
It was like Rom read his mind. He rested a hand on Colton’s shoulder. “Want to be over there making noises, too?” When Colton looked, he realized Rom wore a playful smile.
Colton nodded. And like that, it flipped his mood over, a sweet breeze driving away the mental dust cloud.
Rom knew him. Like no one else had ever known him. He loved Rom, and knew Rom loved him.
It had to be enough.
They gathered their things and headed over to the new side, where Rom only paused a breath or two in the doorway before heading to a vacant spanking bench. Colton had also decided how he wanted to play. Once Rom gave Colton the cue to strip while he prepped his implements and the bench, Colton didn’t hesitate when he was down to nothing but his jock.
He removed it and left it on top of his bag before kneeling on the floor, hands clasped behind his head, to await Rom.
Rom turned when he’d finished hanging implements on the stand, a smile quirking his lips when he spotted that Colton was naked.
He stepped in and stroked Colton’s hair. “Good boy.”
What had started as a slow, soft hum in Colton’s brain quickly built into a loud, vibrating burr, a comforting one that drove away the mental darkness once more and left nothing but his feelings for Rom and the sensations of what Rom was doing to him.
Rom pointed at the bench and Colton immediately stood, moving into position, straddling the towel he’d draped over it.
No restraints. He was expected to hold still.
Rom preferred it when he held still, meaning Colton would do his best to comply.
Colton shivered when Rom buckled the blindfold around his head. Rom’s hands settled on Colton’s shoulders, fingers kneading his flesh. Colton’s entire world shrank into a small pocket of sweet, dark pain as Rom started bare-handed pummeling up and down Colton’s back. Every impact sent jolts through his body and straight to his cock.
Thankfully, he had the towel under him, to help contain his leaking cock.
From there, Rom started using implements. A paddle, which was stingy as fuck, but Colton didn’t move. Wiggling and squirming a little was allowed, but if Colton started moving like he was trying to escape Rom, Rom would stop. It helped that Rom mixed soothing strokes from his hands with impacts from the paddle.
The more energy Colton expended to stay still for Rom, the hornier it made him. With no idea how much time elapsed, as Rom moved from implement to implement, Colton focused on his body and the sensations washing through him. The hardest, sharpest pain was always followed by Rom’s hand soothing away the sting, tender caresses that made Colton shiver with need.
Those were always the hardest to remain still for. He had to wrap his fingers around the ends of the bench and hang on tightly, sooo tempted to want to curl his body around and rub himself against Rom like a cat in heat. Whether it was Rom’s caresses, or the feel of his nails raking across his flesh, or the poke of a knuckle or elbow digging into muscle, Rom’s energy drew him like iron to a magnet, irresistible. But at the club, Rom always kept their play low-key in terms of sensuality. Neither of them were huge on PDAs of the non-vanilla kind, even though they knew they could do a lot more than they were that wouldn’t break the club’s rules.
On the other hand, it meant the sex they’d have when they returned home would be thermonuclear.
He finally became aware that the impacts had stopped and felt a wash of warm air near his head, an indication of where Rom was. It had amazed him to learn he could recognize that and track him, even blindfolded, like his entire body was attuned to Rom.
Rom pressed Colton’s forehead against his thigh, the denim of his jeans feeling softly coarse against his skin. Fingers stroked his head, twined in his hair, caressed his cheek. Only now did Colton realize they were done, that Rom was waiting on him to be steady enough to move him from the bench. And only then did Colton finally relax, sinking into the bench and nuzzling Rom’s thigh.
Were they at home, or one of Kent’s parties, he’d already have Rom’s cock down his throat.
When his mind slowly started to coagulate back into his skull, Colton became aware of the music, people around them, the sounds of others playing, talking.
His Sir, focused only on him.
As sometimes happened, tears pricked his eyes under the blindfold. Why did he deserve such a special man? Why couldn’t he simply focus on their future together?
Why did he have to worry about what might never happen?
Rom didn’t rush him. Once Colton felt steady enough to sit up, he did, waiting while Rom unfastened the blindfold and gently removed it. When Colton finally opened his eyes, it was Rom’s he saw first, right there, waiting, evaluating.
Rom reached up with his left hand to stroke Colton’s cheek, and it was the flash of his gold band that Colton focused on.
A gentle calm descended over him—Rom was already his the same way he already belonged to his Sir.
Rom’s thumb gently brushed Colton’s cheekbone. “How’s my boy?”
Suddenly overcome, Colton could only nod and throw his arms around Rom. “I love you, Sir.”
He felt Rom’s warm breath on his scalp as he wrapped his arms around Colton. “Love you, too, baby. Never letting you go.”
Chapter Eight
Rom spent their entire scene having to constantly reach down and adjust his throbbing cock in his jeans. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t soften himself at all.
Playing with Colton had an impact on him, too. Besides, he’d done a nice job with a little unintentional self-sadism by accidentally training himself to get hard when they played. Since most of their play was at home or Kent’s, where sex was on the table, his cock didn’t understand why it was being forced to uncomfortably chafe inside jeans and briefs, and couldn’t be buried in the sweet heat of Colton’s mouth. Or ass.
After ascertaining Colton was stable enough to stand, Rom got him vertical and draped one of their fleece throws around him, which he’d brought for exactly this reason. Then he wiped down the bench and stowed his gear in his bag. With that finished, he hooked an arm around Colton and guided him over to one of the aftercare sofas, leaving him alone only long enough to grab their bags and drag them over.
Finally, Rom could snuggle with his boy, Colton curled up on his side, his head in Rom’s lap, and facing him. If they were home, this would be when they fell asleep after satisfying orgasms for both of them.
Except Rom’s cock felt like it was trying to claw its way through his clothes to get to Colton, like the chest-burster in Alien. His mouth was right there!
Sigh.
No way would Rom even try to bend, much less break, Venture’s rules about no sex.
Twenty minutes later, Colton finally seemed to be mostly back to himself, except for the lingering subspacey glow he’d have until tomorrow morning, most likely. Rom coaxed him into drinking a bottle of water before letting him get dressed, keeping his wrist cuffs and collar on.
“Ready to go home, baby?” Rom asked.
He nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
A boyish smile curled his lips. “Not to sleep, I hope?”
He ruffled his hair. “Not yet.”
They said their good-byes and headed home. All the way there, Rom had run through possibilities in his mind, trying to decide what he wanted to do, how he wanted to take his boy.
Until they locked the door behind them, and Rom turned to where Colton was setting their bags down, and their gazes locked.
It felt like…he couldn’t explain it if he tried. Like he threw himself at Colton, who was already waiting to catch him. Rom slanted his lips over Colton’s for a crushing, sucking kiss. One explosion of clothes later, and they were horizontal in bed, kissing, sucking, licking, going after each other with mindless need and bottomless passion.
Thisss…
Rom slammed Colton back onto the bed, shoved his thighs apart, and went down on his boy. Rom let out a low growl of pleasure when Colton’s hands gripped his head, not forcing but holding on tightly, his barely constrained power leashed only for Rom.
It wasn’t always strictly Sir and boy between them—and yet, it was. There were lines neither would cross, but there were also times like this where things were as “equal” between them as they could get in their dynamic, short of financial or other important real-life discussions, where brains disengaged and need took the wheel.
Colton’s cock slid over Rom’s tongue. His boy’s thick erection pulsed in Rom’s mouth with every pull of suction. Salty pre-cum leaked from the slit, and every time Rom withdrew to the head he’d tease the tip with his tongue, relishing the taste, his boy’s needy moans, the way Colton’s fingers massaged his scalp, tensed, holding back his strength. Rom knew Colton could just as easily grab his head and ram his cock home down Rom’s throat all the way to the balls.
His boy never willingly took control in bed, even like this. Even when Rom had teased him nearly to the edge of insanity, Colton didn’t want that top spot.
He always wanted Rom in charge in this way, and Rom loved him all the more for it.
Flicking his tongue along the glans, Rom pulled off and licked down the underside of Colton’s cock, to his balls, sucking first on one, then the other, before working his way back up again with Colton’s sac still cradled in his hand. As he did, beneath him his own cock ground against the mattress, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer like this.
“Oh, god, yes!” Colton gasped.
Rom sat up and rolled Colton onto his hands and knees. The marks he’d left on his boy’s ass earlier were showing up nicely. He leaned in and bit his right ass cheek, then the left, making Colton moan again.
He couldn’t hold back—he’d been denied long enough. Grabbing lube and a condom from the nightstand, he scissored his fingers in Colton’s ass to lube and loosen him, his own cock pulsing in time with his boy’s moans. After sheathing himself in a condom, he pressed the head of his cock against Colton’s ass.
Before he could move, however, Colton shoved himself back, hard, deeply impaling himself on Rom’s cock and making both of them let out hungry groans.
“Fuck, boy.” He grabbed Colton’s waist to hold him still. “Just wait a minute.” Colton’s ass tightly fisted his cock and threatened to make him explode too damned soon.
He wasn’t sure when the “honeymoon” phase of their relationship was supposed to wear off, because they were still going strong. If they were independently wealthy, Colton would be spending a good portion of every day on his back in bed with his legs spread for Rom.
While Rom had been with some damn good partners before, he’d never been with anyone like Colton. Even from the beginning, it felt like they were perfectly matched in every way.
In bed, and, more importantly, out of it.
“Please fuck me, Sir!”
* * * *
It was difficult not to squirm and shift against Rom’s body. Colton loved the way Rom’s thighs pressed against his, how the fresh marks on his body zinged with renewed pain that only made his cock throb and leak that much harder.
“Sit up, baby,” Rom hoarsely said.
Moaning, Colton pushed himself up, leaning back against Rom and shifting his legs until his body was molded against the other man’s, and Rom’s arms encircled him.
In Colton’s right ear, Rom’s breath felt warm and made Colton shiver. “Who’s my good boy?” he whispered as his right hand encircled Colton’s cock.
Colton whimpered. “Me, Sir.”
A long, slow pull nearly made Colton nut right there. “And who’s going to hold it for me like a good boy until I give him permission to come?”
Another whimper. He couldn’t help himself. Rom had a way of turning him into a total puddle of need and desire without any thought other than blowing a load, or doing whatever it took to get permission to accomplish that goal.
No one ever had the skill or talent or rapport to shut his brain off like this before. No lover, no Top, and damn sure no Dom.
“Me, Sir,” Colton whispered.
Rom’s lips feathered up and down Colton’s neck and over his shoulder, down to his arm and back up again. All the while, he teased, squeezed, stroked Colton’s cock, while his other hand roamed Colton’s abs and chest. He teased his nipples, back and forth, skimmed his hand up for Colton to suck his fingers, down again.
Even an eternity with this man would never be enough.
And that’s when the idea of what he wanted to do for Rom for their wedding popped into his mind. With such force that his eyes snapped open and he almost forgot what they were doing, almost dove out of bed to go make a quick sketch in his notebook so he wouldn’t forget a detail.
Eternity.
He was giving this man eternity. This beautiful soul who’d never trusted anyone as much as he trusted Colton.
This man who had never allowed himself to fully love someone else before because of his justifiable fear.
Maybe he was collared to Rom, maybe he had given himself over to ownership, maybe he deferred to Rom in nearly every way.
But Colton realized he owned Rom every bit as much as Rom owned him, this sacred trust between them.
Rom paused, his lips on Colton’s neck. “What’s wrong, baby? I just felt you tense up.”
Along with the realization a mental wind had swept in, taking with it the dust cloud of doubt that had shadowed his mind earlier.
This was real.
This was happening.
How could he be bad if this perfect, beautiful man loved him, was willing to spend his life with Colton?
He almost sensed Grammy’s spirit safely out of view but smiling and nodding that he’d finally snapped all the pieces together in his mind.
He turned his head so he could kiss Rom, reached up and back and cupped his head and thoroughly snogged him. “Nothing’s wrong, Sir,” he hoarsely said. “Not anymore. Not with you in my life.” He pulled away, turning and pushing Rom back onto the bed so he could climb on top of him and impale himself on his cock once more.
Bracing his arms on the bed, he caged Rom’s body and fucked himself on his cock. He no longer cared if he got over—it felt like his heart would burst if he didn’t make his Sir come. He wanted every bit of this, of letting go of himself, of taking care of his guy, of being partners together. Of being his snuggle puppy or his attack dog—whatever Rom needed him to be, whatever Rom needed from him.
It was all Colton needed and wanted.
Rom’s hands roamed Colton’s back, coming to rest on his ass. He squeezed, making Colton hiss in pain as another delicious jolt sent shivers through his body, but he wouldn’t be deterred. Maybe he’d even be punished for this later, but he needed to do it.
Wanted to.
Even as he rode Rom’s cock they kissed, until he felt the man’s body tensing, his hands clenching as he started really driving his hips up to meet every thrust. Between them, his own cock was still hard and smearing webs of pre-cum all over them, but he didn’t care.
It was the deep, needy groan that rumbled from R
om’s lungs and between their kiss, right through to Colton’s soul that told him Rom was there. He slammed his ass down on Rom’s cock until, after several thrusts, Rom held him still with their bodies pressed together where they were joined.
Rom’s kisses softened, gentled, and one hand drifted back up again to cup Colton’s head and play with his hair.
“What about you, boy?” Rom finally asked. He wore a playful, come-drunk smile Colton adored.
“Sir’s choice,” Colton said, meaning it to the very depths of his being. “Whether I do or not, and how. It’s your choice. It’s always your choice, and that’s the way I want it.”
The hand in his hair tightened, nearly painful as Rom fisted his hair. But it only stiffened Colton’s cock between them. He rounded his back a little as Rom snaked his other hand between them to find his cock.
Fingers encircled his erection, Rom’s thumb gently brushing over the head and making him whimper.
Still, he looked into Rom’s eyes and waited for him.
“Come for me, boy,” Rom whispered as his hand started stroking. Colton started rocking his hips in time with his motions.
It only took a few pumps before Colton felt it close, right there. And as he fell over, Rom pulled him in for another kiss, swallowing his cries and fucking his mouth with his tongue as hot cum spilled through Rom’s fingers and all over them.
Without disturbing their positions, Rom held him just like that as he gentled his kiss, until he finally loosened his grip on Colton’s head.
“So what was that about, baby?”
Even that he loved. Maybe some guys would take umbrage at the term, but not him. He was the only one Rom ever called that—would ever call that.
“Everything I am and do and want to be centers around you,” Colton softly said. “It’s the center of my happiness. You are the center of my happiness. And I’m the guy who was lucky enough to earn your trust to give me eternity. It was like everything suddenly realigned itself perfectly in my brain and…clicked home.”
Rom’s furrowed brow was perfectly understandable. “I thought you wanted to marry me already.”
You Don't Know What Love Is Page 6