Guarded

by L. A. Witt

  One thing at a time.

  As I took off my pants and boxers, Jordan faced me. Aside from the collar, he was completely naked now, his cock fully erect and his eyes full of that palpable need. If I hadn’t already been completely hard, just looking at him like this would’ve gotten me there in a hurry.

  I dropped the last of my clothes on the floor and closed the distance between us. I pulled him into a warm embrace and kissed him, savoring his skin against mine as the kiss slowly deepened. Even standing, even with our pronounced height difference, we fit together perfectly, arms around each other and mouths moving together like we were made for this.

  I held his hair again, but not as tight, and gently pulled his head back, exposing his neck. He whimpered softly as I leaned down to kiss beneath his jaw, and I couldn’t stop a low groan at the warmth of his skin against my lips.

  “We’re not doing anything kinky right now,” I murmured against the collar on his throat. “We’ll get there. Soon, I promise. But for now”—I kissed beneath his jaw—“just this.”

  Jordan’s voice vibrated against my lips. No words, just a small affirmative sound.

  “So much I could do to you right now,” I whispered. “Or make you do. But there’s even more I want to do later, and I don’t want you to be sore.”

  “I can… I can handle it.”

  “Mmm, I don’t want you to handle it.” I dragged my lips along the edge of his jaw. “I want you to enjoy it.”

  Jordan whimpered, but didn’t say anything.

  I kissed down to his collar again, and tugged at it gently with my teeth, which made him shiver hard and curse under his breath. “Get the lube out of the drawer.”

  “Okay.”

  I let him go, and as he went to the nightstand to get the lube, I pulled back the sheets and climbed into bed. Once I’d settled on my back, I gestured for him to join me.

  “Get on top,” I said.

  His eyes widened, but he didn’t hesitate. He set the bottle on the mattress within easy reach, and straddled me.

  I ran my hands up and down his thighs, just enjoying that gentle contact along with the closeness of both our cocks. God, so many things we could do now…

  “Lube.” I swallowed. “On your hand.”

  Without a word, Jordan picked up the bottle again, and I gritted my teeth, struggling to keep myself in control as he poured the liquid into his palm.

  After he’d capped the bottle and put it aside, I drew him down to kiss me, and as we lazily made out, I guided his hand to our cocks. At my direction, he wrapped his slick fingers around both of our dicks, and when I encouraged him into motion, he gasped, though he didn’t break the kiss. I barely suppressed a shiver as he started stroking us. And then his hips started moving. Oh, Jesus. He probably wasn’t even doing it deliberately, just doing what his body told him to do, and it felt so fucking good, I wasn’t about to stop him.

  “Sit up,” I murmured. Obediently—if a little unsteadily—he pushed himself up. As soon as he was upright, he started the slow thrusts again. I closed my hand over his, tightening his grip around both our dicks.

  Jordan groaned, letting his head fall back as a shudder briefly interrupted his rhythm.

  “Jordan.” I licked my lips. “Look at me.”

  He looked down, blinking a few times.

  “You’re not going to come until I say so,” I said. “Understood?”

  He nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “I’m”—he faltered when I held tighter and encouraged his hand to move faster—“n-not going to come. ‘Til you tell me.”

  “Good.” I closed my eyes as we both fucked into his fist, as his well-lubricated dick slid against mine. “Christ, you feel good…”

  He moaned softly and kept thrusting, driving me half out of my mind.

  I struggled to find my breath, and finally managed, “You’re…you’re not going to come until after I do.”

  “Oh fuck.” He snapped his teeth shut, his hips almost halting for a split second.

  I grinned, running my free hand up the middle of his chest. “What’s wrong, Jordan? Don’t think you’ll last?”

  “I will, I’m just…” He closed his eyes, biting his lip as I dragged my thumbnail around his nipple. “So turned on.”

  “Good.” I teased his nipple some more, and then slid my hand higher, up over his collarbones and onto his throat. The collar was body-warm, but cool compared to his near-feverish skin, and his pulse pounded against my thumb and fingers.

  “Faster,” I said through my teeth. “I want you to make me come, Jordan.”

  His brow furrowed, and he made a soft, helpless sound as he obeyed.

  I wanted to tease him more, taunt him with my impending orgasm while keeping his at bay, but I could barely breathe, never mind speak. The only thing I could do was keep my hand on his and my other on his throat. Nothing else. Not while he was thrusting against my like that, obediently driving me insane while holding back under the same mind-blowing stimulation. His gorgeous body, his flushed face, his bed-shaking thrusts, his unquestioning obedience—everything about him conspired to turn me on more than he could possibly have imagined, and both my admiration and arousal grew with every thrust that he made it through without coming.

  “Keep doing that,” I breathed. “So… fucking close.”

  He whimpered, and God bless the man, he thrust even harder, and I couldn’t hold back for another second. My back arched, my breath caught, and everything went white. Somewhere in the oblivion, I was aware of my fingers twitching on Jordan’s throat, tightening just a little, and his low moan thrumming against my palm.

  And he still thrust. All the way through my orgasm, until I stopped him with a hand on his hip, he kept going.

  My other hand was still on his throat, and as I blinked my eyes back into focus, he stared down at me, panting and shaking.

  “You didn’t come, did you?” I whispered.

  He shook his head, muscles moving beneath my hand. “No.”

  “Good. Very good.” I gentle nudged his hand out of the way, and wrapped my fingers around his cock.

  He gasped, a shudder straightening his spine.

  Tightening both grips—on his throat and on his dick—I whispered, “You’ve done well, and I’m going to reward you.”

  “Thank—” He cut himself off with a ragged breath as I stroked him faster.

  “You’re close, aren’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Answer me.”

  “Yes.” He rocked his hips, moving in time with my hand as his cock slid easily across my slippery skin.

  “Do you want to come?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “Ask for it.” I stroked him harder and added just a little pressure around his throat.

  “May…” He shuddered again, squeezing his eyes shut. Then he forced them open and looked down at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing against my palm. “Please, may I come?”

  I kept stroking him. Kept a firm grip on his neck.

  And finally, I whispered, “Yes.”

  One hard, violent thrust, and he was gone. He cried out, shaking as I kept stroking him and his semen mingled with the lube on my hand.

  I released his neck first and held his shoulder, supporting him as he slowly sank down on top of me. I held him close, not really caring if we ended up with lube and semen everywhere. That was what showers were for. With Jordan lying on top of me, trembling and panting, I didn’t care.

  “We’ll do more later this evening,” I whispered, and kissed his forehead. “I just wanted to make sure we were still…” I didn’t know what word I was looking for, only that whatever I’d been uncertain about before had melted away somewhere in between stripping down and getting off.

  He pushed himself up and met my eyes. “So, are…?”

  “I think we are.” I brushed a few strands of hair out of his face. “Do you?”

  Without any hesitation, he nodded.

  I sm
iled and lifted my head to kiss him. “Good. Let’s clean ourselves up, and then we’ll figure out this evening.”

  Jordan grinned. He kissed me again, and then we both got up.

  As I tossed the towels into the hamper, I gestured at our clothes on the floor. “Hand me my cell phone. Should be in my pants pocket.”

  I got back into bed, and Jordan obediently picked up my jeans. He found my phone and handed it to me before climbing back into bed beside me.

  I scrolled through my contacts and found the number I was looking for. As the phone rang on the other end, I wrapped my arm around Jordan’s bare shoulders and he rested his head on my chest.

  “Jase, darling!” Renee chirped on the phone. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Hey, hon.” I kissed the top of Jordan’s head. “Listen, I was wondering if my sub and I could use the dungeon tonight…”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jordan

  Renee met us at the door, dressed in a cream-colored blouse and gray slacks that clung to every curve, her hair tumbling loose around her shoulders. “Hello there, you two,” she purred, turning that toothy white smile on us. “Come in.”

  The house seemed different now—quieter, emptier, and not only from the absence of other guests. “Where’s Robert?” Jase asked, his hand at the small of my back as we entered the foyer.

  “Working late, I’m afraid. But I’d be happy to show you downstairs.” She was already heading for the wrought iron staircase, her feet lightly slapping the floor, bare this time except for shiny plum polish on her toenails. I followed three paces behind her and Jase, carrying Jase’s toy bag, a shiver rippling through me as the heavy oak door creaked open. They called these places “dungeons” for effect, but now, without all those other people distracting me, I saw how accurate the description was. Especially when Jase went over to examine that rack of nasty-looking toys.

  “How are you feeling, dear?” Renee said, planting a kiss on my cheek. “You played hard the other night. I trust you’ve recovered?”

  I darted a look at Jase. He hadn’t told me to keep quiet, but best to make sure. On his nod, I answered, “Getting there.”

  “Ah, I understand. Such intensity takes a while to come down from.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulder, played with my hair. “Something seems different about you this time. Both of you.”

  Jase heard her too, his gaze sending heat flooding me. How the hell did he do that? “I, uh…”

  “You’re in love, aren’t you?” she whispered in my ear. “It was obvious to me from the moment Jase put his collar on you the other night. Robert even remarked on it after you’d left. We’re both so very happy Jase has finally found someone worthy of him.”

  Does this mean I have to ask you for his hand? My lips quirked up in what felt like the world’s goofiest grin. “We’re pretty happy about it ourselves.”

  “It’s an extraordinary kind of happiness when a Dom and sub love each other. God, the elation when Robert put his collar around my neck—”

  “But I thought you were a Dom too.”

  “I am, for the most part. I submit only to Robert.”

  Hard to imagine Renee on her knees to anyone—then I remembered the intensity of Robert’s gaze the first time I’d met him, and it all made perfect sense. Robert was the kind of person who inspired devotion and obedience.

  Jase was the same. The two weeks we’d spent apart had nearly driven me crazy. Even now, standing across the room from each other, I felt an incredible pull. A desire—no, a need—to be at his side. To be his, for as long as this—whatever this was—lasted.

  Seemed like Jase tried out every damn toy on that rack before he finally picked one out—a long, skinny cane that made Renee go, “Oh my.” Jase handed it over, and she bent it all the way around until both ends touched, then let go. The whoosh it made sent my stomach into freefall. “These whippy carbon fiber canes are so, so evil. Good choice.” She gave me a wink as she handed it back to Jase. “You’re in for quite a treat.”

  Were they trying to psych me out? Mindfuck me? “That little thing’s gonna hurt me? Really?”

  Jase’s smile faded. “Bend over the table and I’ll show you.”

  “Oh dear God—” Renee’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes going wide.

  Shit. What did I just do? “I, um, didn’t mean—”

  “I said, bend over the table, Jordan.”

  In other words, no fucking around.

  The table was only a few feet away. A few lousy steps that felt like a lot more. “Take down your pants,” Jase said.

  I did as told, my face burning. No idea why. Wasn’t like they hadn’t already seen—never mind fucked—my ass the last time we were all in this room together.

  “Lie down across the table. Grab hold of the other side if you can.”

  I tried, but my arms weren’t quite long enough. I’d just have to dig in my nails and hope for the best—

  “Let me help.” Renee came around the opposite side of the table and grabbed hold of my wrists. Her gaze bored right into me. “Remember to breathe.”

  “Ready?” Jase said.

  I breathed, and nodded.

  “I’m giving you six strokes for talking back,” he said, “starting now.” And with that—

  The cane went whoosh, landing right across my ass. At first it felt like—

  Well, yeah, it stung, but nothing to get—

  Oh fuck. Fuck! That fucking burns. Make it stop!

  After a few seconds it did—then it ramped up again, a second wave of stinging pain. It peaked and ebbed faster than the first, thank fucking God, but it was still strong enough to make me gasp. Tremble. Grip Renee’s hands until her knuckles dug into my palm.

  “Breathe, dear,” she whispered.

  I’d just started to inhale when the second stroke hit, a little higher on my ass this time. At least now I knew what to expect—

  Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK THIS FUCKING HURTS!

  I’d never experienced pain like this before—it was like a living thing, twisting and burrowing under my skin. I flashed on way too many bad horror movies, and started laughing—

  And kept on laughing through the next stroke, though I might’ve cried out, “Oh, fuck!”

  Jase laughed too. “Glad to see you’re awake.” He ran his palm over my ass, which felt good until—fuck—he started pinching my new welts. “And marking up nicely.”

  Three more strokes. You can do this.

  Only I didn’t expect him to deliver the next two strokes one right after another. My brain whited out. Shorted out. Pain overload—

  God, what happened to my voice? Sounded like somebody’d put it through a fucking meat grinder—

  “Look at me, dear,” Renee whispered.

  I tried to focus, but it was hard with the sweat dripping into my eyes, and—oh God. Floaty. Flying. Finally.

  I breathed and looked at Renee, bracing myself for the last stroke—

  Which landed in the crease between my ass and my thighs—

  And a fucking mushroom cloud exploded in my head, pain like I’d never imagined, a bright flash of agony that faded, then swelled again before I felt Jase’s hand on my arm.

  “You did really well,” he whispered. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Indeed.” Renee smiled and brought over a towel to wipe my face.

  “W-was only six strokes.”

  Jase and Renee exchanged a look. Surprise, or concern? “Most people couldn’t take a caning like the one I just gave you,” he said.

  “Which proves what I’ve suspected since the party,” Renee said. “Our beautiful boy here is a born masochist. No wonder you two are so well matched.”

  “No wonder,” Jase said as he grabbed my ass, fresh pain blooming—

  But what mattered was that the pain came from him. He’d given it to me. He wanted me to have it, to move through it and come out clean and strong on the other side.

  And I would, dammit
. Because he wanted me to.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jase

  I could barely walk when I shuffled into my kitchen the next morning. Jordan was still asleep—I’d done my best not to wake him on my way out. We hadn’t even come home until quarter past two this morning, and in between having his ass beaten and fucked, he’d barely been able to walk from the car to the front door. In all the time we’d been fucking, I’d never seen him go to sleep that fast. When the sun came up, he was still lying where he’d fallen with his jeans and socks still on.

  Moving as quietly as I could, I put the coffee on. While that brewed, I stretched some soreness out of my muscles. God, we’d both been insatiable last night. Maybe we’d gone overboard. Hell, I didn’t know. All I knew was there’d been that brief period yesterday between when I’d taken off his collar and when he’d asked me to put it back on, and then he’d come out of the rehab place looking shell-shocked and confused. Then we were in my bed, and then we were in the dungeon, and only sheer exhaustion had stopped us. I’d needed him, he’d needed me, we’d needed each other. We’d both needed the pain, the sex, the flying, to know something was still okay in the world and everything was still okay between us.

  Rubbing my stiff neck with sore hands, wondering again and again if we’d gone too far. But then, it wouldn’t have been the first time. From day one, this relationship had been built on too much and too far, and though sometimes it felt reckless and insane, other times it felt like we’d hit just the right note, found that perfect amount of too much to satisfy us both.

  And whether it was the right note or not, the fact remained that in the light of day, reality was always waiting for us on the other side of the bedroom door. I existed to protect Jordan from the crazy fans who occasionally got a little too enthusiastic in their devotion. He was an entertainer with pressure coming from too many powerful people to get back out on the road, get back on stage, and make more music, with or without the guitarist who’d been with him since before the garage and night club days.