by L. A. Witt
“Yeah, that’s about what happened here.”
“So I see.” As he looked over everything on the rack, I watched all the places his eyes stopped—the spreader bars. The Wartenberg wheel. My modest collection of cock cages.
From behind, I wrapped my arms around him, his body heat radiating through my clothes. “There are so many things I want to do to you in here.”
He shivered, laying his arms over the top of mine. “I can’t even imagine where to start.”
“You leave that to me.” I kissed the side of his neck.
His breath hitched slightly.
Another kiss, this time right behind his ear. “I could always send you to work with your cock and balls in a cage.”
He tensed, turning his head slightly, and I was pretty sure his gaze went straight to the small collection of cages hanging below the spreader bars.
I grinned against his skin. “I can just imagine you wearing one of those during a meeting.”
“I wouldn’t—” He swallowed. “I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything.”
“Well then. I guess we’d be even, wouldn’t we?”
“Oh really?”
“You have no idea how much you distract me. Even before I realized you were”—I pulled him back against me, pressing my clothed erection against his bare ass—“my type.”
Rick exhaled hard. “We’re never getting anything done in a meeting again, are we?”
“Probably not. But we’re going to get plenty done here tonight.”
His fingers twitched on top of mine.
Where to start, where to start?
My mind kept going back to one fantasy, and though it didn’t involve any of the myriad toys I kept in this room, it turned me on so much, I couldn’t see straight.
I let him go and gestured at the floor. “Get down on your hands and knees.”
Rick didn’t even hesitate. He went to his knees, then forward onto his hands.
“Good.” I squeezed his shoulder gently. “Very good.”
He glanced up at me and smiled. Blood pounded in my ears—his pupils were already dilated.
I stepped away, opened a cupboard and took out a condom and some lube. When I turned around, I paused. He was watching me, eyes wide and forehead creased, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything sexier than him on his knees on my dungeon floor, naked, waiting for me to do whatever I wanted to him.
I set the condom and lube between his shoulder blades and knelt behind him. Rick fidgeted, obviously trying not to dislodge everything on his back, and I chuckled.
Patience, Rick. Patience.
I unzipped my pants and pulled out my very erect cock, and just to fuck with him, I took my sweet time opening the lube bottle. He shifted his weight from one hand to the other. One knee to the other. One hand to the other.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
He nodded. “Just…want…”
“Want what?”
He took a few breaths—was he panting already? “Anything you want.”
“Good answer.” I poured some lube on my first and middle fingers. “As it happens, I want to fuck you.”
He inhaled like he was about to speak, but when I pressed my lubed fingers to his ass, he tensed, and then exhaled and didn’t say anything. Carefully, slowly, I slipped two fingers inside him. He arched his back, nearly dislodging the box of condoms, and whispered something I didn’t understand. I’d fucked him just last night, but I was excited and aroused as if I’d never touched him before. There was so much potential here. So much smooth, exposed skin to cover in sweat and welts.
Just imagining it made me dizzy. Knowing it was a possibility—that any number of those fantasies could come true if I told him it was what I wanted—was overwhelmingly erotic. As I fucked him with one hand, I stroked myself with the other, keeping both motions slow so I didn’t make one of us come too soon.
“You said you like being tied up,” I whispered. “Forced to take whatever’s given to you.”
He nodded. “Y-yeah.” A tremor made the condom box slide down toward the middle of his back. He tensed, clenching around my fingers and holding perfectly still, which must’ve been a struggle for him.
“We could do that, you know.” I pushed my fingers apart, stretching him gently. “Right here. In this room. Would you like that?”
Another nod, though subtle this time, as if he thought that slight movement would knock everything off his back.
“Answer me, Rick.”
“Yes, I would.”
“We will. Once we’ve been at this awhile”—I bent my fingers just right to find that sweet spot inside—“I promise you, we will.”
He moaned, damn near whimpered. Whether it was from the promise or the pleasure or both, I couldn’t tell, but it turned me on either way. I slid my fingers out, then in again, and he gasped and bucked just hard enough to send the lube and condoms clattering to the floor.
“Shit,” he breathed. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right this time.” I slipped my fingers free. “Now pick them up and give them to me, because this gorgeous ass needs to be fucked again.”
He grabbed the fallen box and bottle, and twisted around to hand them to me.
I quickly put on a condom and some more lube. With one hand on his hip, one around the base of my cock, I guided myself to him, and for a moment, the whole room was completely silent. I was holding my breath. He must’ve been holding his. As the head of my cock pushed past the tight ring, he swore softly, and we both exhaled as I worked myself into him. He moaned, the tension melting out of his shoulders as he took me deeper.
I may as well have built this entire room for this specific moment—fully dressed, fucking a naked, submissive Rick right here in the middle of the floor. My imagination showed me a million other things we could—and hopefully would—do in this room, but it all came down to this—Rick, surrendered, taking whatever I chose to give him. Tonight, my cock. Tomorrow, maybe a flogging, or a few welts from a rope. Eventually…hell, the sky was the limit. Anything he wanted. Anything he was willing to take.
Rocking my hips slowly, sliding in and out of his tight ass, I ran my hands up and down his back. “Your profile had some interesting answers on it.”
He turned his head, lips taut. “What?”
“Oh, you thought I was just going to fuck you?” I laughed as I drew my fingernails down his sides, making him tighten around me. “No, no, Rick. I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to talk. Coherently. Understood?”
I thought he murmured “shit…” but then he nodded. “Okay. Yes.”
“Good.” I dug in my nails and slammed into him. As I started to withdraw, I gritted my teeth, and then slowly pushed back in. “You said on your profile…” I paused, mesmerized for a moment by the sight of my cock disappearing inside him. “You said you like pain sometimes. And there are things you want to try.” I took a few long, slow strokes, enough to most likely make him forget anything I’d just said. “What do you want to try?
“I want…” He released a hiss of breath. “God, I…”
“Answer me. Or else I’ll stop.”
“Hot…” His head fell forward, and a shudder ran up the length of his spine. “Hot wax.”
“Hot wax?”
“Y-yes.”
I bit my lip. Instantly, my mind’s eye was filled with images of hot wax dripping all over his gorgeous torso, thin colored stripes piling one on top of the other while he… Would he moan? Cry out? Lose himself in subspace from the first stinging drop, or would I have to work at it to put him in that space?
“Maybe we’ll have to try that,” I murmured, and fucked him a little faster. “Right here. In this room.”
Rick groaned. “P-please…”
“You ask so nicely. I like that.”
He shivered.
“Lots of other things we can do too. I have plenty of toys.”
“Anything,” he moaned, rocking slightly back and forth. “An
ything you want.”
“Maybe I want to watch you take care of yourself.” That mental image made me bite my lip. God, yeah. I was going to have to do that. “You ever use anything while you’re jerking off?”
“Lube.”
I thrust harder, just to throw off his concentration. “Anything else? Toys?”
“S-sometimes.” His shoulders quivered, and his back arched. “Oh my God…”
“What kind of toys?”
“I…” His head lolled forward. “T-toys. Dildos.”
My mind’s eye showed me Rick lounging in his bed, one hand on his dick and the other sliding a dildo in and out of his ass, and I was suddenly on a very fast road to coming. “That sounds hot,” I whispered. “I might want to see it.”
“Any time. Any… God…”
“You ready to come, Rick?”
“Yes,” he pleaded. “So ready.”
I could tease him. Oh, and I would tease him. But tonight, I wanted to hear him and feel him and see him, so I said, “Come, Rick.”
He clenched around me, and his helpless cry echoed off the basement walls. I gripped his hips tighter and slammed into him, fucking him hard while he rocked and shuddered and moaned, and then I was coming too, gasping for breath and forcing myself as deep as he could take me.
We both stopped. I stayed inside him, hips pressed all the way against his ass, until the trembling slowed. Carefully, my hands still unsteady, I pulled out.
“Don’t move,” I breathed. “Just…just stay…like that.”
He nodded. “’Kay.”
Once I’d tossed the condom and cleaned off my hands, I straightened my clothes and returned to him in the middle of the room. I crouched beside him. “You all right?”
Rick lifted his head. His pupils were blown, and his lips pulled into a drunken grin. “You have to ask?”
I laughed. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.” I helped him to his feet and gave him a moment to stand, keeping a hand on his arm in case he got dizzy. When we were both sure he was steady, I guided him out of the room. There, I gathered his clothes and shoes, and we continued up to the second floor and into my bedroom.
He damn near collapsed into my bed, and immediately, his eyelids drooped. I smiled—if he crashed this hard after sex, he was going to be liquid after he’d been into subspace. Perfect.
I stripped off my own clothes and joined him.
He was sweaty, shaky, his skin still flushed, but he was coming down. His pupils weren’t quite so dilated or distant now.
I smoothed his damp hair. “So were you serious about wanting to try hot wax?”
“Yes.” He paused. “Eventually. I mean, we’re just starting, so we—”
“Of course.” I kissed his forehead. “But when you’re ready, I’m looking forward to it.”
He slowly ran his tongue across his lips. “You’ve done it before?”
I nodded. “Enough to know what I’m doing, yes.”
“Have you had it done to you?”
“Of course. There’s nothing I’ve done to a sub that I haven’t experienced myself.”
“Really? I didn’t think you were a switch.”
“I’m not. But I have a friend down at the local dungeon who I trust enough to try things out on me. He knows damn well I’m not a sub, and I’m just doing it to understand what it feels like.”
“The local—” His eyebrows flicked up. “You go to those?”
“Sometimes. You?”
Rick shook his head. “Never been to one.”
“Really? They’re a lot of fun. I mean, if you don’t mind being in a room full of other people.”
“That’s the part I’m not sure about.” He met my eyes. “Is it always out in the open?”
“Not at all. There are private rooms and open areas. Sometimes it’s fun to watch or be watched, and sometimes you just want to focus on what you’re doing.”
“So why go to the club?”
“Well, you might want to find someone new to play with, or share a submissive with someone.” I shrugged. “Just depends on what you’re into.” I tipped his chin up and kissed him. “And no, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
Some tension left his shoulders. “Okay. Good. I mean, I might. Someday. But—”
I kissed him again. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve just met—well, I mean, in this context—and we’re still figuring each other out. That kind of thing doesn’t even need to cross our minds right now.”
“Fair enough. Admittedly, I have always been curious about it, but let’s see how things go when it’s just the two of us first.”
“Of course.” I caressed his cheek. “And for the record, so far I like how things are going when it’s just the two of us.”
He smiled and pressed against my hand. “Me too.” Sobering a bit, he met my gaze. “It’s a shame we won’t have more time. We’ll have to play the workweeks by ear—I work some long hours.”
I scowled. “Yeah, me too.”
“Really?”
“Sometimes. Right now, it’s fairly quiet, but that can change on a dime.”
“Duly noted.” Rick grinned. “Well, that’s why God invented the weekend.”
“Didn’t Henry Ford invent the weekend?”
“Eh, close enough. Either way.”
“Good point.” I kissed him gently. “Bottom line, as long as the slave drivers aren’t keeping me on overtime, my weekends are all yours.”
“What a coincidence, because on the weekends, I’m all yours.”
Oh fuck. This was going to be awesome.
Chapter Seven
I’d had sex with Rick Pierce.
Oh my God.
All weekend, he’d been Rick—amazing kisser, eager submissive who loved to be teased and fucked. I’d been tempted to get into some heavier kink, but I’d held off. I wanted to make sure we really were that comfortable with each other, and that it hadn’t just been the heat of the moment making us want to push the envelope. Later, once we’d done the groundwork, we could break out the toys and see how things went.
I was pretty sure that would come sooner rather than later. What had happened between us definitely wasn’t just the heat of the moment. I knew I wanted Rick, and I couldn’t wait to see him after work tonight. But first, I had to see him at work.
Shiiit.
As I drank my coffee on the way to the office, hours after that long kiss good night, he’d become Rick Pierce again in my mind. The CEO of our biggest client ever. The man with Mitchell & Forsythe wrapped around his finger.
What would happen when he walked into the office again? His company had its own offices elsewhere, but he’d been working so closely with the architects on this enormous project, he’d become a regular fixture around our building. He’d been distracting as hell from the beginning. Seeing him on the app had fucked with my brain.
Now that I’d seen him…
I shivered.
Of course I trusted him to keep this on the down-low, and I sure as hell wouldn’t say anything. Still, during my twenty-five-minute commute, I checked my rearview three times to make sure I didn’t have “I handcuffed Rick Pierce and fucked his mouth” tattooed across my forehead. I was irrationally certain that the second I walked into the building, people would look at me and know.
The powers that be would have my head on a pike if they knew I’d even entertained impure thoughts about Rick. They couldn’t outright fire me for getting involved with him, but they could find another reason to direct me to the unemployment line. Maybe they’d reconsidered their stance on modeling and decided to go with 3D printing or CGI instead of continuing to pay me to painstakingly build them by hand. Budget cuts could fall from the sky and kill my job, along with those of the other builders and drafters who I supervised.
My blood ran cold. Fuck. My crew.
It occurred to me that my job wasn’t the only one on the line these days. If the firm found out I was sleeping with Rick, and decided to replace me
with the high-tech modeling techniques that Teagan and I had been afraid of for the last few years, everyone in the department would likely be downsized. Drafters were necessary, but they’d be absorbed by another department, and that department would quickly phase them out in favor of some recent graduates who’d do the same job for half the money.
As I headed upstairs from the parking garage, still nursing my coffee, it occurred to me that I was probably overreacting—if anyone got fired over this, it would be me and only me—but the thought of my crew did stick in my head. If there existed anyone who’d be able to look at me and know, it was them. When it came to sniffing out dirt and gossip, the CIA had nothing on the people I worked with day in and day out. And they were unavoidable because we shared a communal workspace.
At a quarter to eight, I braced for the worst and strolled into the office, such as it was. We had commandeered an unused conference room a few years ago. It was huge, with loads of natural light pouring in through the windows, so it was perfect. The drafters worked on their computers while Teagan and I each had a desk and a large table for building our models.
In spite of the fact that we were drawing and modeling multimillion-dollar buildings for multibillion-dollar companies, and an oversight on any of our parts could result in costly problems at job sites or lost contracts for the firm, we may as well have been a few junior high kids hanging out in the art room after school. We took our jobs seriously, but the same couldn’t be said for anything else. Pretty much everything that was said in this room would be considered NSFW—Not Safe For Work—in any other office.
Only the closed door—which Cal had marked “NSFW Zone”—and our blasting music kept the rest of the office from hearing what went on in here, which was probably just as well. Otherwise, every last one of us except maybe Silent Dave would have been summarily marched down to HR, a journey brought to you by the words “sexual” and “harassment”. We were shameless, and nothing was out of bounds. In a normal work environment, Cal wouldn’t be able to randomly recite already offensive rap lyrics, which he’d carefully modified to be even more offensive. Lengthy discussions wouldn’t be had about whether a guy should wait until the second or third date to broach the subject of anal sex. Teagan would quietly excuse herself to the ladies’ room without the announcement that her nipple ring had snagged on the lace of her bra again.