by M. A. Innes
A low chuckle rolled out of me, and with some guys it might have upset them, but it just fueled the fire inside my wicked angel. The groan of relief as he finally freed his cock and shoved his pants down was throaty and deep. He quickly shoved off his jeans and shoes and threw himself back into my lap.
His skin was smooth and free of hair. It was obvious that my boy liked to shave, because even his treasure trail was gone and the area around his cock was bare. He didn’t seem to be shy or hesitant, so I didn’t worry about where to touch as his naked body started wiggling on mine.
One hand landed on his ass to keep him from falling over, and I brought the other up to cup his balls and tease around his erection. “My beautiful boy.”
He writhed and whimpered as I teased his cock. “So sexy and smooth. Nothing to hide this pretty dick or your body. You’re beautiful, and I can’t wait to run my tongue over all these sculpted muscles.” He was lean and would never be a bodybuilder, but his body was sculpted with tight muscles that begged to be touched and caressed. He’d look amazing dressed up in nothing but a tiny little jock and paraded around.
Low moans and little whines escaped as I ran my hands over his chest and balls but left his cock alone. When I let one finger slide back and flick over his tight puckered hole, he gasped and words started tumbling out. “Please. Sir. Yes. More. Please.”
It wasn’t sentences, but it was beautiful.
“Show me how you play with your cock. I want to see you touch yourself. But remember, you don’t get to come until I give you permission.” The words came out rough, but he didn’t mind. Lust dripped from every pore, and even the way he blushed let me know how turned on he was by the order.
His hand moved slowly, but I knew he wanted it, because by the time he wrapped his fingers around his hard cock, he was shaking with desire. A low moan ripped out of him and his hand started flying over his dick, racing for his orgasm.
“Slow down, Angel. I’m not going to let you come that fast.” I caressed the sensitive skin around his clenched opening and kneaded one ass cheek. He slowed his hand, but it was a barely controlled jerking motion that I knew he couldn’t maintain.
“That’s right.” I tapped one finger on his hole and roughly fondled his balls, making him whimper again. Fuck. It was the most incredible sound. “If you want to come, you have to be a good little slut and obey your master.”
He exploded.
I don’t know if it was being called a slut or me referring to myself as his master, but something about the words pushed him over the edge. He arched back and screamed out his need. Ropes of cum hit his chest and hand as he tugged on his cock, milking every drop of pleasure and cum from his body.
I gave his ass one swat which only made him louder, and the desire that ran through him more violent. When he finally sagged against me, with little aftershocks making him jerk, I moved my hand from his balls and brought it up to his face.
“You were a naughty boy. Did you have permission to come?” I didn’t make any attempt to hide how aroused I was. Even I could hear the need that dripped from the words.
His head came up, and he looked at me with a foggy, sated expression. “I couldn’t help it...you said...and it just...and I...”
“You’re going to have to be punished, Angel.” I shook my head like I was sad, but I knew my face held a wicked grin, because he started to squirm again. “I’m going to have to figure out a good way for you to remember who controls that sexy cock.”
“I’m sorry?” He was obviously torn between feeling bad that he’d disobeyed and the excitement of being punished. The unknown would keep him on edge and constantly ready. “I’ll be good next time. I promise.”
“I know you’ll try, but I’m still going to have to punish you.” I squeezed down on his ass, letting my fingers inch closer to his opening, just so I could watch the pleasure flare in his eyes again. “Do you understand that, Angel? You need to remember who has the control.”
“You do. You.” He whimpered again and tried to push his ass harder against my hand. “Please?”
“No more tonight.” I gave him another pop, loving the way he arched and gasped. “You were naughty.”
“But—” He sat back. His lower lip poked out in a sexy pout, giving me the sweetest look.
“No, Angel. When you show me you can be good, I’ll let you come again.”
He inched toward me and tilted his head. “After my punishment?”
“Yes.” I leaned close and pressed a tender kiss to his lips, swallowing the little gasp that escaped. Pulling back, I smiled before settling into the chair. “I’m going to enjoy punishing you, Angel.”
He couldn’t seem to decide what to say, but his blush spoke volumes. My needy little slut was excited too. “Let’s get you dressed. They’re going to want to see I left you in one piece after that scream.”
He groaned and blushed, but his quick peek at the door, and the way he licked his lips, said he wasn’t that upset. When he tried to stand, I gripped his hips and shook my head. “That’s not how naughty, dirty boys clean up their mess.”
I took his cum-covered hand and brought it up to his lips. “Show me how you should clean it up, Angel.”
His gaze bounced back and forth between his hand and my face. Checking to make sure it was what I really wanted, maybe? I was betting his internal debate over what was “bad” and “naughty” was raging.
Finally, he took that step, and his tongue flicked out, licking some of the cum from his hand before darting back in his mouth and looking at me, hesitant and unsure. The desperate need for someone to understand him was so clear it made something inside me hurt.
“My sexy boy. Show me again. You’ve got cum all over, Angel.”
That sweet blush was back. His tongue peeked out and swept over his palm before he sucked his pointer finger in his mouth, deep throating it like a porn star, all while having that angelically innocent expression on his face.
I wasn’t sure why we were clicking so fast, but it felt right. It was like one of those movie moments where viewers could see the entire plot turning in a new direction in just one scene. It wasn’t something that the audience was expecting, but it made everything even better.
But no matter how long we lasted or what happened, I was going to do my best to show him that words like naughty and wicked and dirty and even slut didn’t have to mean negative things. I wanted to show him that knowing what he wanted and what he needed out of a relationship didn’t make him a terrible person. I also wanted to show him that he could take control of his sexuality and his desires by giving that control to someone else.
My boy was made to submit, and I was going to show him how.
Chapter 4
Randall
“He called me Angel...his dirty, fallen angel.”
Even whispering the words into my dark dorm room sent swirls of crazy things going through my head...and my stomach. He seemed to get me. And he didn’t think I was some kind of insane whore with a mental disorder.
It probably meant he was a stalker, and I’d end up dead somewhere—but it would be worth it.
Hell, just imagining the look on my parents’ faces as they were interviewed about my grizzly death would be worth it too. Okay, so he probably wasn’t a psycho. Andrew and Jake wouldn’t have been pushing us together so hard if they thought he was crazy.
Before the cab had even dropped me back off at the dorms, my phone had nearly exploded with the volume of texts I’d gotten from Andrew. He’d been demanding to know what had happened in the back room and if I was going to see Hudson again. I also got hell for “sneaking” out the door before he could talk to me in person.
I hadn’t needed to sneak out. He’d been too busy mauling his husband to notice anything that was going on around him. After Hudson had watched me get cleaned up, he’d cuddled me and even helped to get my clothes on.
I’d gotten some weird looks as I stuffed my jeans into my backpack and put on my regular clothe
s. But walking around town with my dick outlined like that didn’t seem like a reasonable idea, so I thought I might have misunderstood his expression. As we’d walked through the bar, he’d asked if I needed a ride home or a walk to the bus, but I’d already arranged for a taxi.
There hadn’t been much of a chance to actually talk, but he’d given me a stern look and said he was going to fix that. Then he’d cracked a terrible joke about not being interested in me just for the way my ass looked in my jeans. I’d laughed and willingly added his number to my phone.
He’d said he would call, but I wasn’t sure if that meant soon, or just eventually. I hadn’t really had enough second dates to know what the rules were. I also wasn’t sure if the previous night counted as a date. He’d had a drink, and we’d technically met at a bar, and I’d had one hell of a goodnight kiss. So maybe it was a date.
I really wished I had someone to ask.
You’d think after six years of college I’d have found someone to talk to about stuff like that, but there wasn’t anyone. Looking around my room, I wasn’t sure how it had happened. I knew people. There were other students I could call to study and hang out with, but no one who I shared anything personal with.
And everything that had happened with Hudson was personal.
The first couple of years at college, I’d been so focused on my classes that finding real friends hadn’t been important. I’d double majored in history and English, finishing both in just over three years, so most of my free time had been spent studying. When I’d added in family commitments, there wasn’t much left over for me, let alone anyone else.
It had been painfully clear that I wasn’t destined to follow in my father’s footsteps and take over his company, so they’d decided that academics would be a good path for me. My mother had said having a professor in the family would look good, and I hadn’t cared enough to argue with them.
And if staying in school kept me off their radar, then I was going to stay in college as long as possible. Multiple master’s programs and planning for a doctorate I didn’t really want was keeping me pretty busy and their friends impressed, so I wasn’t going to rock the boat until I had a backup plan.
That was almost impossible, though, because they were firmly against me working. Every time I agreed to work hours at BJ’s, I kept expecting them to jump out and start asking me what I was doing. “Mom, I know you said you wanted me to focus on my studies, but I decided I wanted to work a few shifts at a gay bar in a part of town you wouldn’t even take an armored car through.”
Yeah, that would work out great.
“Did you say something, man?” My roommates voice called out from the living room.
Shit.
“No!”
There weren’t that many people living on campus getting their master’s—because who in their right mind would want to do that—but there were just enough people to fill the top floor of one of the dorms. Luckily, it was suites with small private rooms and a shared living room and kitchen, but it was still living on campus with strangers and very little privacy.
I’d tried to talk my parents into getting an apartment, but I’d gotten shut down so many times I’d given up. Once I picked the doctorate program I was going to apply for, I thought I might get another chance. Their friends would think it was weird if their son the almost-doctor was living in the dorms.
The last time I’d brought it up, my mother had talked about me moving home. I wasn’t going to do anything to put myself in that position ever again, so I was going to have to be careful. Just the handful of times a year I had to show up for parties at the house or some function or another were bad enough.
Living there full-time would require anxiety meds or something.
Glancing over at the clock, I was glad to see it wasn’t that late. Sometimes after I’d been at the bar, I was so worked up that it took hours to fall asleep. But last night, I’d gotten home and crashed. Hard. No staring at the ceiling. No marathon jerking off sessions. No fear about what might happen or what they thought. Last night had been perfect.
So, of course, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It would eventually. I wasn’t going to let myself believe that Hudson would do anything wrong. But sooner or later, I was going to say something insane, or he’d figure out I didn’t belong in that part of town and move on to someone who fit in. There was also the possibility that my parents would figure out everything, and then all hell would break loose.
But I was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
Sexy, built men who were gay, open-minded about kinks, and not psycho weren’t exactly a dime a dozen, so I was going to do my best to push back my worries and live in the moment. Now I just had to figure out the best way to do that...and the rules...my mother always said there were rules of etiquette for everything, you just had to figure them out.
Well, none of the manners I’d ever been taught included situations like last night.
Hudson had talked about domination and submission and had wanted to be called Sir, but I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. I wasn’t a moron, or so isolated I hadn’t found porn, but I wasn’t sure what parts of that were real and what parts were just for movies and in people’s imagination.
Did guys really kneel?
Did they really call someone Master?
Did they actually give their Masters complete control?
Well, that one might be real. I thought I might have given control of my cock to Hudson. Maybe. He’d seemed so serious when he’d said it, and the way he’d looked at me when I’d agreed had been insane...off-the-charts hot.
Was there a good way to text him and ask if that part was real or just for fun?
Real people and couples did role-playing stuff. That was fairly common, if daytime television shows were correct. Was last night just something like that? A fun game at the bar but not a rule he was actually serious about? The rational part of my brain said it had been entertaining in the moment, but that was it. There was another piece, though, a quiet but persistent one, that said I was being delusional.
It was convinced he was serious.
I wanted him to be serious.
I desperately wanted it. Maybe that was why it seemed so unreal. I’d never met anyone that took control like that or talked about sex the way he had. Did that mean I was really supposed to text him or call him when I wanted to come? That wasn’t...it had to be...
My head was confused, but my cock clearly liked the idea, because the half-hard morning wood I’d woken up with was starting to turn into a full-on erection that I didn’t want to ignore. I looked down the bed, where my cock was covered, and then over to my phone on the nightstand.
Could I actually do it?
Was I supposed to?
After a few more minutes of the weird internal debate, I still hadn’t come to any conclusions. The obvious answer seemed to be to text him and ask if he was serious, but if he wasn’t, that would be embarrassing. And would probably be sharing too much about what I desired.
But if he was serious, he’d want to know what I fantasized about...right?
I was saved from myself by a notification from my phone. I was expecting some kind of message about a study group for this weekend or even a random doctor’s appointment reminder...anything but Hudson.
His name flashed across the phone as I swiped my finger over the screen to open it.
Hope I’m not bugging you at work. Jake said you had another job.
Well, it was starting out normally enough. And he had said that he was going to talk to me soon. This was soon. If he actually wanted to date, hiding school seemed like a waste of time, so I texted him back.
Not bugging me. I’m a student. Master’s program...most of my classes are later in the afternoon and in the evening. I’m in my room not doing much right now.
His reply came back immediately. Wasn’t he supposed to be at his office?
Makes sense why you aren’t there much...evening hou
rs and classes don’t mix.
Kind of...and there was the whole panicked about getting caught part.
Yes, but I like work.
His reply made me laugh.
I liked watching you work.
That had been obvious. And surprising.
I noticed.
I wasn’t sure what he was going to say next, but his response was...interesting.
I also noticed that you liked being noticed.
My brain didn’t know how to respond to that. Yes seemed too stark and too...dirty to admit. He seemed to understand that because I got several messages in a row.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be watched.
Or teased
Or talked dirty to
I wasn’t sure I believed him, but disagreeing with him sounded rude.
It’s hard...I’ll try?
And that looked pathetic even in a text message. At least he hadn’t been able to hear the confused whiny voice that was in my head.
The phone started to ring.
Shit.
Not answering wasn’t an option—because he kind of already knew I had the damn thing in my hand. Taking a deep breath, I tried not to sound as panicked and confused as I felt. “Hello?”
His low chuckle made my cock jerk. “You sound nervous, Angel.”
Well, that hadn’t worked. Might as well be honest. “Yes. I’ve never...Well, this is...” I sighed and took a deep breath. “And now I sound like a moron.”
Hudson laughed. The tone was so rich I could almost see the smile on his face. “You sound like a confused guy after his first time submitting. That’s normal. And it’s the reason I called. I wanted to make sure you were okay and see where your head was.”
That was...sweet. But I still didn’t know what to say.
Or how to ask the million-dollar question.
“My head’s...weird?”
That low laugh came over the phone again. “Weird, huh? I guess that makes sense. Is your dick confused or does it know what it wants?”