“I was late for work several times,” he admits. “Rude to customers and I fought with my best friend whether I should continue meeting up with you.”
“I feel like a priest at the confessional.”
Jax pouts. “Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?”
“Did you touch yourself without telling me?” I drag the strap down the cords of his throat, nudging at his nipples, which harden to points when I gave them a little smack.
“I—” Jax’s tongue-tied as I gave the little buds more taps.
“Yes?”
“Can’t I?” he asks.
“Nope. You’re forgetting you’re mine for a month, boy. That means your entire body belongs to me, cock, balls, ass, everything.” The last point, I emphasize by nudging at his hardening prick and balls.
He swallows. “Oh God.”
“Are you going to come from me doing this alone?” I ask, letting him hear the disapproval in my voice.
“Do you expect me not to react, Sir?”
I grip his chin, stare him down. “I’m going to need to gag that clever mouth of yours for this session.”
He whimpers. “No.”
“That’s for me to decide, unless you can’t take more?”
Jax clenches his jaw, a stubborn expression on his face.
I let go of him, and disappointment flitters across his face, as if he doesn’t want me to stop touching him. I snap my fingers, and he goes on his hands and knees on impulse.
“Come.” I turn my back and stroll to the playroom. I can smell his arousal, hear his heart thudding with excitement. The playroom door remains open. I step aside, letting him crawl in first.
I follow suit, walk to the cabinet near the door, opening the first drawer and grabbing a suitable ball gag. Every toy in here is new and clean. That’s all I do in my free time. Research, buy, maintain, despite having no one to test them on save myself. And Jax of course.
Anticipation drives me as I show him the gag ball. The size isn’t intimidating, but definitely discomfiting.
“We’ll try this on you first,” I say, stepping in front of him. Jax kneels, and I fit the straps over his head, adjusting it, before the ball goes in. I wait. He gags at first but soon adjusts to it. “Hold two fingers up if you want to stop, one to continue. Show me.”
Jax glares at me. He looks gorgeous, unable to speak, only capable of making animal noises. Eventually, he holds one finger up.
“Good. It’s time for your punishment.” I place two fingers under the band of his collar and lead him to the spanking bench.
He grunts, probably because I’m treating him like an animal incapable of commands, but I know he’s enjoying it. I can smell his arousal in the air. I let go, and he voluntarily gets into position without me needing to voice commands.
I buckle the leather straps around his ankles, moving on to his wrists. I only cuff his right, and leave the left free.
“Use this to signal to me,” I say. On reflex, I grab his hand and plant a kiss on the back of it. Jax looks taken aback. I brush my lips against his forehead, running my fingers through his hair. “Will you take this for me?”
He nods.
I drag a small table beside the bench, tools already there.
“Look at you, already hard for me. That won’t do.” I take the cock ring we used during our last session.
Seeing it, Jax presses his cheek into the leather padding, conceding. Once he’s wearing the ring, I run my bare hand down the line of his sweat-slicked flesh, loving his shudder. Naturally, the marks from before have faded, but I can’t wait to make his body my canvas again, paint it in streaks of pink and red.
“I’ll warm you up with a strap,” I tell him. I pick up the strap again, letting it fly. I spread the blows across the length of his buttocks, not sparing his thighs, cock, and balls. The force I apply is minimal, for pleasure not pain.
Each cry that emerges from Jax is muffled. My dick starts to thicken in my jeans, but I hold back, knowing we’re just starting.
Once I’m done, he’s panting, squirming on the bench, but the restraints hold him in place. I show him the next toy. His eyes widen at the transparent vibrator. Once the toy’s in him, I can see inside of him completely.
He moans around the gag. I grab the lube as well, slicking my fingers, before working a generous amount into his hole. Jax’s inner muscles clench around my digits, making me chuckle. My boy’s needy for me, but first, he needs to take the pain I want to dole out.
I push the vibrator in, slow and steady until it’s fully inside of him. Next, I pick up the wireless remote control and turn the setting to mild.
Slapping his ass makes Jax jump. “You should see how you look, boy. So fucking perfect and gorgeous, gagged, bound, and plugged like this.”
He mewls. I wipe the drool down his chin with the hem of my shirt, before taking a flogger from the table.
I tickle the braided leather ends against his face, tapping it lightly against his cheek so he can anticipate the slap. “This is a high-intensity flogger. It will sting. Let’s do a set of twenty.”
I return to position and begin whacking his thighs, watching his skin turn a nice shade of red. Each thud makes him squirm and buckle. Halfway, I ask, “Where are we, Jax?”
I wait for a couple of seconds for him to recover. He raises a finger, signaling for me to continue. At the same time, I increase the setting on the vibrator. My balls tighten against my body. He’s so ripe for the taking—ass red and stretched out and ready.
Wanting to hear his cries, I stop the flogging to unbuckle the gag.
“Sir, please,” he begs.
I spear my fingers into his hair and ask, “Tell me what you want, beautiful boy.”
Chapter Eight
Jax
Lance’s words take me aback. It’s hard to focus, with the vibrator in my ass and the cock ring, denying me release. Potent combination, just like Lance. Those golden eyes gut me, and yet I’m pretty sure my answer will scare him off.
Still, he’s the one who says last week was a mistake, that he wants more from our sessions, too. I take a blind leap of faith and answer, “You.”
“Me?” He raises an eyebrow. Lance’s answer fills me with relief, and he thumbs my bottom lip, sliding a finger in, and I suck hard, imagining it’s his cock.
When he pulls it back, I know the answer he wants to hear. “Your cock, buried so far in me, I can’t breathe.”
A sexy growl of approval rumbles from him. He works his fingers thorough my hair, and unzips his jeans to pull his shaft out.
For a second, I can’t speak. Lance’s stunning, massive, and I understand the need for the vibrator. I shudder as he draws me close, and I dart my tongue out, swiping the pre-cum from the tip.
“Fuck.” He teases me, slapping his dick against my cheeks, painting them with his jizz.
It’s such a turn-on, knowing he’s marking me like I’m his territory. His. I glower in frustration, which only makes him chuckle. Finally he pushes his member into my waiting mouth. I open up, gagging at first, before adjusting to his size.
It takes a couple of tries, but he’s patient. I suck on the crown slowly, savoring the taste of him. I explore every ridge and bump of his dick, loving how he’s like silken velvet over hot steel.
I nip, using a bit of teeth, and he seems to like that. Lance tightens his hold on my hair.
“Need to take over,” he says.
I relax my jaw while he thrusts in and out of my mouth. Lance’s careful. He pushes in slow and steady, eventually pulling out.
“Need to be in you soon.” Lance practically growls out the words.
“Didn’t you already tell me I’m yours?” The comment slips out before I can help myself. He stares at me. I lick away the droplet of cum on my bottom lip.
“Bratty sub,” he observes out loud, fishing out the remote again. The vibrations going through my ass stop. I moan, wanting more.
Lance pads behind me and takes the toy ou
t, leaving me feeling empty, needy. I hear him break the foil of a condom. I’m still aching all over from his recent punishment and horny as fuck. My dick’s straining against the ring. He presses his dick against my entrance, fingers around my shaft.
“Don’t come without my permission,” he warns.
“I’ll do my best, Sir.”
My answer satisfies him. Lance slides the metal ring off, freeing my erection. I nearly explode but recall his words. Eager to please him, I hold back, letting out shaky breath when he breaches my ass without warning. The little toy’s done its work. I barely feel the burn as he sheathes himself fully in me. Despite being slick for him, I can feel Lance’s prick, stretching me to my limits.
He feels amazing inside me, better than I imagined. Lance closes his hands around my hips.
“Fuck, Jax. You’re so tight.”
It’s a compliment, coming from his lips. My balls draw in tight, and I know I won’t last long. Thank God Lance begins to slide in and out of me. He starts slow, tormenting me so I feel every inch penetrating my most intimate places.
“Please, Sir. Ride me faster.”
Once the first difficult words come out, the next flow easily out of me. He picks up speed, hammering into me with relentless motions. My heartbeats quicken. I can barely string two coherent thoughts together.
Every time he sinks his dick in me, the fire in me burns brighter, until it becomes an inferno. Lance reaches for my balls, gives them a squeeze, before beginning to pump my cock up and down.
I’m panting, but so is he. He shifts his hips, and slams right into my sweet spot. My back arches, and I gasp as intense waves of pleasure strike my core.
“God.”
He lets out a rumbling growl of assent, and aims for my prostate repeatedly.
“I’m close,” I confess.
“Then come for me, boy. Let me hear my name on your lips.”
His words push me over the edge of oblivion. I empty my balls, as Lance sends my mind soaring, until I’m seeing stars. Lance thrusts several more times in me, before he orgasms. He keeps his softening dick in me, and I’m starting to wish there’s no thin barrier of latex keeping our flesh from touching each other.
Once we recover our breathing, Lance unbuckles the cuffs on my ankles and my wrist. I get off the spanking bench, stumbling slightly. I nearly taste the floor, but Lance wraps his massive arms around my waist.
His breath feels warm against the nape of my neck, and he leans in close enough that the slightly sharp edges of his teeth scrape against skin. He kisses the band of the leather collar, and I wish I could wear it forever.
I’m not sure how long we stand like that, not speaking. I don’t want the terribly tender moment to end. Will Lance tell me to clean off in his bathroom, then expect me to leave in tatters again?
“Let’s clean you up,” he says, nipping at my earlobe.
I shudder. “Do I hear a ‘we’ in that statement?”
“We can save water by showering together,” he agrees. I nestle close against him, rubbing my sore ass against his dick.
“Don’t tempt me to fuck you senseless again,” he warns.
“That doesn’t sound like a punishment to me, Sir,” I quip.
He chuckles, releases me. Lance grabs a fresh washcloth from the little table with his toys, cleans up both up, before jerking his head to the exit.
Halfway to his bedroom, he tugs me close and pulls our mouths together. Heat gathers in my belly. My cock starts to thicken, and his is rock hard once more by the time we arrive in the shower.
I raise my eyebrows, eying his shaft.
Lance chuckles. “We shifters recover easily.”
“If you’re intending to intimidate or frighten me, you’re doing a horrible job.”
The shower barely fits both of us, but I like how there’s no room to maneuver. Lance slams me against the wall, pins my wrists, and yank them above my head.
God. I love how rough and careful he is at the same time. He takes my lips again. My insides melt and my toes curl. I don’t think any other man ever kissed me like this, like I can easily forget about my demons, the whole damn world. It’s only us in here.
Us. I like the sound of that, but I can’t voice anything out loud yet, for fear one of us will chicken out and run. Lance pulls back, eyes glowing yellow.
“I like how your eyes look when you’re aroused,” I whisper.
“Some people become frightened when that happens. Reminds them they’re not dealing with a man, but also my animal.”
“I’m not scared. Never been.”
“You should be.” There’s old pain in his eyes. I’m guessing it’s tough being both a Dom and a shifter.
I shake my head. “Out in the desert, I’ve seen the horrible things men can do to each other. I’ve been through hell, but I know you’ll never hurt me, never in a million years.”
Lance says nothing for a couple of seconds.
“Why did you agree to do these sessions with me?” I finally possess the courage to ask.
Lance smiles, and his answer goes straight to my hardened heart, my wounded soul. “Because I saw a young man as broken as me.”
“We’re supposed to fix each other,” I point out.
“There’s nothing to fix. Wounds heal with the right person.”
My heart feels like it’s about to burst from my chest. “Am I that person, Lance?”
His lips curve to a smile. “Who else am I talking about?”
Chapter Nine
Lance
I wake in a tangle of limbs. It’s been a while since I didn’t wake up alone. Jax’s slender body feels amazing against mine. I breathe in the familiar scent of him, pressing my nose against the side of his neck.
Jax murmurs something in his sleep. I distinctly recall how he woke up in the middle of the night, screaming. Gathering him in my arms seemed to chase his nightmares away. His time in the desert did a number on him.
I of all people know some bad memories can never go away. All we can do is make sure the wounds close, even if they leave a scar. Hearing Jax snoring lightly, I smile. Deciding to do something nice for Jax, I peel myself off him.
It’s hard. He groans, digs his fingernails into my arm, but I hardly feel the pain.
“I’ll be here when you wake up,” I murmur against his ear.
Whether he hears me or not, he relaxes, and I manage to slip out. I can’t remember the last time I made breakfast for another person either. I grab a pair of fresh jeans from the drawer beside the bed, put them on, and head out.
Remembering Jax left his clothing by the front door, I scoop the clothes up, start the washing machine, and throw them in. Jax can wear something of mine while they dry.
The kitchen’s unfamiliar territory to me. It’s more Curtis’s domain than mine. I halt by the fridge. A photo of us is on the freezer door. Some days, I need a photo to remember his face. How crazy is that?
I touch the photo. The “me” in that photo is someone I can never be. The old Lance took risks, liked being reckless. I’m older and harder now, but for some incomprehensible reason, Jax still wants me.
Shaking my head, I pull my mind from the past and focus on the present. I check the contents inside and scowl. There’s nothing but a carton of old milk and a can of beer. Most of the time I do takeout. It’s easy, fuss-free, but I want to make breakfast for Jax. Pretty silly of me, but it feels like the first step to something.
I grab a shirt from the bedroom. Jax’s snores become louder. I remember him telling me that he has trouble sleeping. Deciding to leave him to his dreams, I grab my wallet, phone and slip on a pair of shoes.
Before Jax worries, I scribble a note, telling him I’ll be back with groceries and leave it by the dining room table. Whistling under my breath, I exit the apartment.
Inside of me, my lion feels calm, at peace when I spend half the time trying to control it. I know the beast will eventually push me to make Jax mine in every sense of the word. Giving
him the mate mark now isn’t prudent, but after last night, I know it will happen.
I’m just not certain how Jax will react to the news. Shifters mate for life. There won’t be anyone else for me but Jax. Watching him fall asleep last night, all the pieces seemed to come together. I can imagine being with Jax not just for all our four sessions, but longer still.
During the days he isn’t with me, all I think of is him.
I wonder if that scares him, if he’s ready to hear what lies in store for both of us.
****
Jax
The empty bed confuses me for a second. Then anger finds its way. I’m breathing hard, swearing under my breath. Shoving the sheets aside, I try to look for my clothes, but they’re nowhere in sight.
“Fucking lion. You did it again,” I mutter under my breath.
I try Lance’s cabinets and drawers, eventually settling for a pair of sweats. Naturally, they’re two sizes too big, but I’ll settle. I stalk out the room, fuming.
“Lance?” I call out.
No response. Fucking perfect. I’m about to leave the apartment in a huff, when I notice the note on the table. I grab it, about to rip it to shreds. The hell with his notes. This isn’t grade school. We can’t keep passing notes instead of communicating face-to-face, but I read it.
I let out sigh of relief. My reaction seems extreme, but he’s done it before. I hear a beep from somewhere in the kitchen. Curious, I go snooping to find the source. It’s the washing machine.
I let out a nervous laugh, unable to believe Lance is thoughtful enough to wash my clothing. To help save him time, I put them in the dryer.
I wander back to the living room. Something about the space feels different. It takes me several seconds to notice the discrepancy. All of the photos of Lance and his former mate are missing.
“Does that mean—” I falter. It’s nuts, talking to myself.
Needing to process how fast things are going, I sit my ass on the couch, wincing as the aches from the previous night act up.
Sub for the Lion Page 4