by Quinn Ward
“Stay still or we’ll stop,” he warned. “Close your eyes.”
His voice was low and soothing. I did as he instructed, despite how badly I wanted to watch what he was doing to me. Without the benefit of sight, every touch of his hands on my body sent a jolt through my body. I resisted the urge to squirm as he lightly caressed my sides, wishing I’d warned him how ticklish I was. When I felt his tongue flick over my nipple, I gasped, then moaned. Fuck, that felt good. I couldn’t remember the last time sex had been about anything other than getting off. I’d damn sure never laid perfectly still while someone else worshipped my body. And that was the only way to describe what he was doing to me.
“Such a good boy,” he praised. I tensed briefly, my gut reaction being to remind him I wasn’t a boy, but something more primal took over and I felt uncharacteristic peace. I wanted to be a good boy. Wanted to be his good boy.
While Calvin alternated between flicking his tongue over my left nipple and sucking it into his mouth, he took the right between his fingers. Pinching, caressing, slowly squeezing. My cock ached from the lack of attention, and yet weeped because I was so turned on. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” That was the wrong answer, apparently, because Calvin lifted his head and pinched both nipples. Hard. That fucking hurt!
“Would you like to try again?” he asked, slowly kissing a trail down my sternum. I’d have done anything in that moment, if only to keep him on his path toward my dick. I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what I’d done wrong. I had an idea of what he wanted from me, but that was one step I wasn’t ready to take. I rolled the words around in my head, but couldn’t make them pass my lips.
“Please Cal, keep going,” I begged. “I’m so turned on right now. Please, don’t stop.” Tears formed in my eyes, praying that’d be enough, that we could get through this and then talk about my hang-ups.
“What’s wrong?” Cal reached up and wiped a tear away from my cheek. Before my mind could process what was happening, I was sitting up, leaning against Calvin’s body. “I told you to tell me if I did something you didn’t like. This is supposed to be fun, not leave you in tears.”
“And it was great, but then I ruined the moment.” God, what was happening to me? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten emotional, and yet I was on the verge of full-blown tears over a guy trying to get me off?
“You haven’t ruined anything,” he reassured me. Calvin pressed his lips to my temple, and I began to relax. “Let’s walk through what was going through your mind right before you started to get upset and go from there.”
I didn’t want to talk about this. Calvin was drop-dead gorgeous. He knew what he wanted, and he’d been up front with me from the word go. He could easily go to a club and find a willing sub who’d have no problem calling him Sir or Master. I relaxed a bit more when I felt Calvin’s strong arms around my waist, holding me tight against his body so I couldn’t run away.
“In order for this to work, both of us have to be into it. And maybe I was wrong when I thought you would be if you just got a taste of what it could be like. I shouldn’t have assumed I knew what was best for you and I’m sorry for that,” he apologized. I rested my hands on top of his and gave them a gentle squeeze.
“Don’t apologize,” I told him. “I’m glad you saw something, because I think you might be right. But the shit running through my head, it was intense and all jumbled around. I don’t want to upset you, but there are some things that are going to take me some time.”
“Such as?” he prodded when my thoughts trailed off. Every kiss along my jaw or casual swipe of his thumb across my stomach soothed me. “I’m willing to take as long as you need, Frankie. And if we do this and you decide it’s not something you want, we’ll figure it out.”
“I wouldn’t want you to do that.” I turned onto my side so I could rest my head against his chest. His heartbeat lulled me. “If you can deal with me freaking out along the way, I’d like to keep going. But I can’t call you Sir or anything like that. It’s too much for me.”
“Then don’t.” I felt him shrug and then his lips were against my hair. “We’re not in this to create a textbook couple. We’re real people with real issues. What we’re doing needs to be right for us, not some bland manual on how to do kink right. There are only a few rules to what I’m into, and one of those is that there isn’t a single way that’s the only way.”
“But you corrected me when I didn’t respond the way you wanted,” I pointed out. I’d screwed up, and if it wasn’t by not calling him Sir, then I had no clue where I’d gone wrong.
“One rule I live by, whether in the bedroom or out, is respect.” His tone was steady yet firm. “I don’t need a title, but I do expect you to answer yes or no when I ask you a question. Is that something you think you can do?”
“Yes,” I responded, instantly and certainly. Hearing him explain it made it sound so simple. “But I should warn you, there will be times I’ll forget, especially if you get me all lust drunk first.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to correct you.” He sounded almost giddy at the idea. Unlike when I’d been surprised by his actions, I found myself looking forward to him molding me into what he wanted. “I’m sure you’ll remember eventually.”
“I might,” I teased, happy to be back on more solid footing. I tugged the hem of his shirt free from his pants and slid my hand along his stomach. “But you might have to find other ways to punish me when I screw up. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit of a slut when it comes to someone playing with my nipples.”
To emphasize my point, I grazed the tips of my fingers across his chest, smiling at the sharp intake of breath. “You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you, Brat?”
“Mmmm, I’d like to think I’m a little more than that.” I shifted again so we were chest to chest and wrapped my arms around the back of his neck. The position was a bit awkward, but I ground my dick against his equally hard erection, wishing for fewer layers between us. “Please tell me you won’t punish me if I kiss you? I’ve been thinking about it all week.”
“You have? And what did you think?” Calvin’s hands gently massaged my back, drifting lower until he cupped my ass. He squeezed, pressing our dicks harder together, lifting and lowering me as we rutted.
“That I need to know if you’re a good kisser or not, because that might be the deal breaker for me.” I was a sucker for kissing. Outside a relationship or at least the possibility of one, it was something I didn’t do because it raised the level of intimacy. But when I was with someone, I could easily be content to sit on the couch and make out all night.
“Well, we wouldn’t want to waste all this time if we’re not compatible in that area, would we?” Before I could answer, he cupped the back of my head and pulled me to him. The first kiss was tender yet firm, no tongue. He pulled away. “How was that?”
“Not a bad start, but I might need a little more to go on.” I dragged my tongue across my lower lip to see if I could taste him. The jerk just smiled at me, patiently waiting. “Please Cal, kiss me again?”
That was obviously the right answer, because the next time our mouths crashed together, I instantly felt his tongue pressing at the seam of my lips, demanding to be allowed into my mouth. Fuck, that was hot. I ground against Calvin as he fucked my mouth. That was the only way to describe the assault as he held me in place, directing the kiss. By the time we broke apart, both of us were breathless, and I swore I was on the verge of coming.
“Feeling better?” he asked. I nodded, because holy hell he’d scrambled my brain. “Good. I don’t ever want to upset you, Frankie. I’m here to help you.”
“You are,” I assured him. I still didn’t understand why it was so easy for me to do what he told me to, but there was no denying I’d been less stressed this week. I wished like hell I could just let go completely. “Please tell me I didn’t ruin tonight.”
“Not at all.” He kissed me once more bef
ore guiding me back down to the mattress. “We’re not going to do much tonight, but I did promise you a reward for being a good sport this week.”
Without being told, I put my hands back into place and closed my eyes, allowing the timbre of Calvin’s voice to soothe me. As he peppered my skin with kisses, paying close attention to every spot that elicited a gasp or sigh from me, he rambled about how he saw us moving forward. I didn’t flinch at the mention of him setting a schedule for me to follow, hummed my assent when he suggested quiet time every night to refocus on my needs and wants rather than giving everything to everyone else.
“Is that something you’d be interested in, baby?” His voice was so soft and tentative as he asked, his breath ghosting over my hip. It wasn’t fair that he asked that question while hovering so close to my dick, but when I answered, I knew my response wouldn’t have changed even if I wasn’t so frantic for release.
“Yes, please.”
The moment the words were out, Calvin’s lips wrapped around the head of my cock. He suckled at the tip, never taking the shaft into his mouth. It was too much and yet not enough all at the same time. He hummed as he licked and nipped at the skin, turning his attention to only my shaft. One hand snaked between my legs, cradling my balls, squeezing gently when I warned him I was close to coming. “Not yet, Brat. I want you to see how long you can hold out.”
“I’ll try, Cal.” It was the only promise I could make, but damn if I didn’t want to please him. He took more of me into his mouth, sliding his tongue side to side as he slowly released me and took me in again. Every time I got used to the pressure he was using, he’d switch it up so I never knew what was coming next. “So fucking good, Cal. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
His hand replaced his mouth, jerking me slowly with almost no pressure. “You’re amazing, Frankie. So fucking responsive. So damn eager to please me. And you do. I’m honored that you’re trusting me to know what you need and give it to you.”
I wasn’t a fan of small talk during sex. For me, it’d always been about the physical release and nothing more. But hearing Calvin’s praise amped up every sensation. My balls tightened against my body, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer. He kissed me again, this time with the musky taste of my pre-come on his tongue. Another “I never used to like this” to add to my list. Calvin was turning everything I thought I knew about sex on end and I couldn’t be happier.
“I need to come, Cal,” I warned him. “You made me wait a week for this. Please, don’t make me wait any longer.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the sound or the sting of him smacking my hip that shocked me more. My immediate reaction was to knock him on his ass, but it was quickly replaced by the urge to roll over and beg him to do it again. Calvin chuckled. “Someone liked that.”
“I’m so twisted up right now I’d like just about anything you do to me,” I admitted.
“But can you admit you might not be as opposed to pain as you originally thought?” His hand stilled on my prick. The other reached up and brushed my damp hair away from my face. I shook my head, because I wasn’t sure I could form words. “Say it, Brat. Tell me you liked that.”
“Yes, Cal. I don’t know why, but I did. I want more. Need it. Want whatever you’ll give me,” I rambled.
“In time,” he promised, immediately before sucking me all the way to the back of his throat. He palmed my sac, his middle finger pressing into the seam of my ass.
I arched off the bed, spreading my legs wider, inviting him to breach me. He didn’t. Calvin seemed content to press against my hole as he sucked hard, the vibrations of the noises he made hitting every sensitive nerve. Finally, there was no holding back. My hands flew to his shoulders, trying to push him away, because if he didn’t want me to come, he needed to give me a break. Calvin’s free hand came up to caress my stomach as he started bobbing up and down on my cock faster, harder, and I took that as permission to come.
I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my release filled his mouth. I kept waiting for him to pull off, but he never did. Even after my dick softened and I lay in a boneless heap on the bed, he lapped at my skin, cleaning away every drop of cum.
As the haze of my orgasm faded, I tensed, waiting for him to quickly flee my bed with a reminder that this shouldn’t have happened. That we couldn’t do this when we weren’t alone in the house. Instead, he pushed me to the side of the bed and slid in behind me. His arms wrapped around my middle, and I rested my head against his chest.
“I’m not going to stay in here all night,” he clarified, kissing the top of my head. “But I’m not going to leave you, either. Thank you for tonight.”
Calvin’s erection pressed into my hip, and I realized how selfish I’d been. He’d spent all that time pleasuring me, and he had to be hurting. I rolled over in his grasp, forcing my hand between our bodies. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything for you.”
His fingers closed around my wrist, stopping me from sliding my hand between his pants and skin. “Tonight wasn’t about chasing my own release. Tonight was all for you.”
“But that can’t be comfortable.” I rested my hand over the bulge in his pants.
“I’ll be fine, brat. Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’re going to sit down and talk about expectations.”
“Great. More talking,” I grumbled. That earned me a hard pinch to my nipple. There was nothing sensual or erotic about the twisting pain. “Fuck! That hurt!”
“It wasn’t supposed to feel good,” he pointed out. “If we’re going to keep doing this, there’s going to be a lot of talking, preferably not in the middle of sex. I don’t want another incident like tonight, where you start worrying you’re not enough. You are exactly what I want, Frankie. Now, sleep.”
“Yes, Calvin.” I closed my eyes and tried to match my breathing to his. I didn’t want to fall asleep, because that meant I’d eventually wake up in an empty bed. For the first time in forever, the thought of waking up alone bothered me.
9
Calvin
Monday’s talk never happened. There was an emergency at the restaurant that Frankie needed to take care of. I was tempted to suggest he let his brothers take care of it since Monday was supposed to be his day off, but from the cursing I heard drifting out from his bedroom, I knew there’d be no appeasing him.
Tuesday, I was under a deadline and couldn’t pull myself away to give Frankie the attention he deserved. I did, however, make sure to text him throughout the day. That night was busy with Ryan’s practice and dinner with his mom and her fiancé. It had never bothered me to be the proverbial third wheel before, but I found myself wishing there was a fifth chair at the table, filled with Frankie’s larger than life personality.
This morning over coffee, Frankie promised he would get out of the restaurant no later than eight so we could finally sit down to talk. I knew Frankie thought it was overkill to spend more time talking about what we would or wouldn’t do than getting naked or getting off, but I couldn’t put either of us through another situation like Sunday night. Seeing him upset crushed me. Knowing it was because he didn’t know what was expected of him was a slap in the face, because my job was to lead him, to make sure he was happy and comfortable.
“You’re spaced out. Everything okay?” I jerked my head up to see Eli standing across the table from me. I’d asked him to meet me for lunch, because now that I was going after what I’d always wanted, I was nervous as hell. I’d already screwed up once; couldn’t let it happen again. “Ryan having problems in school?”
“If only,” I muttered in response. My son struggling would be much easier to deal with, even though he’d always been a model student. Despite how unprepared I’d been to hear Marisa tell me she was pregnant when I was trying to find the balls to break up with her and come out, we’d managed fairly well for the past fifteen years. Parenting was a cakewalk compared to not only getting involved in a relationship with my roommate who had more in c
ommon with my son than he did with me. Add in the fact I got off on light bondage and discipline and I felt as if I were drowning.
“Holy shit!” Eli’s chair scraped across the concrete bricks. He flipped it around and sat with his elbows resting on the back of the chair. “I know that look. You’ve met someone!”
“And how would you associate any particular look with me having or not having someone in my life?” I quirked an eyebrow, because his assumption was ridiculous. Eli made it sound as if I were a serial monogamist. “The last time I got involved with someone was Marisa. I’m pretty sure even your memory isn’t that good.”
“Maybe not, but you just said the last time, which confirms there’s a this time,” Eli pointed out. I wasn’t sure why I was even arguing the point since my sole purpose in asking him to lunch was to get his opinion on what I should do with Frankie. “So, who is he? It is a guy, right? You’re not getting cold feet and deciding it’s safer back in that closet of yours?”
“Why in the hell would I do that? If I wanted to be in a relationship with a woman, I could’ve stayed with Marisa.” We were an amazing couple. The only problem we had was that we both liked guys and she wasn’t the sharing type. Even now, there was love between us, and I was happy she was marrying a man who loved our son and accepted that I would always be a part of their lives.
“Cal, you know the only thing I despise more than secrets is suspense, so give it up already. And tell me when I can meet him. I need to know that this guy’s good enough for you.” Hearing him call me Cal reminded me of the nickname flowing from Frankie’s lips the other night. Most people called me Calvin, including Frankie, but when he was turned on, it was as if he couldn’t help himself.
“You know Frankie,” I told him.
“Frankie? You mean the kid roommate?”