Pushy Bottom

A Sealed with a Kink Story

By Sean Michael

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Pushy Bottom
Copyright © 2013 Sean Michael
Edited by Andrea Grimm and Venus Cahill
Cover Art by Les Byerley

Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-668-4

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including
infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable
by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic Release: June 2013

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product
of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

He’s so fucking pushy.

I’ve never met a bottom who pushes as much as he does. I’ve been watching him for

weeks as he wraps one Top after another around his little finger. He’s broken more than one.

None of them can handle him. None of them are me.

He’s also stunning. His long, dark hair is a stark contrast to his pale skin. He takes marks

beautifully, but he never takes many before he’s whining and complaining. He doesn’t safeword;

he doesn’t have to. As I say, I’ve been watching, and tonight, I’ll make my move.

The Winter Meadow is filling up, and I’m on my second Coke. I don’t drink the hard

stuff when I plan to play.

Nikolai is across the room, in the midst of a group of twinks, holding court. There’s

something about the dark eyes, the grace, that makes a man’s mouth dry, makes him a little

crazy.

I put my Coke down and slowly make my way toward him, my focus narrowing.

He’s telling a story, pure drama and charm, the twinks all laughing. They grow quiet as I

draw near. All of them but Nikolai. Those dark eyes look me up and down, black eyeliner

making them look even bigger.

I hate to admit it, even just to myself, but he does it for me.

I stare back, not letting this pushy man get to me—he’s a bottom and I’m a Top, and I’m

not going to let him forget it. He tries to stare me down, tries to back me down. Instead, I take a

couple steps forward.

Several of the twinks surrounding Nikolai slip away.

“Master Black? Can I help you with anything?” Kane, one of the more experienced subs

who has been writing something on a notebook looks up at me, smiles.

“No, thank you, Kane.” I spare a smile for Kane then go back to looking at Nikolai, one

of my eyebrows going up as I wait for him to acknowledge me.

The man’s teeth worry the thin bottom lip, pierced tongue flicking out. “Hey, Master

Black. How’s it going?”

“Good. And how are you doing, boy?”

“Great. Just giving our boy Kane here a little hell. He’s going to school. Doing

homework.”

“And that deserves hell?”

Nic shrugs, nudging Kane with one shoulder, and it suits me to the bone that the contact

seems playful, fond, not mean at all. I want to play, but I won’t abide bullying assholes. “After

he teased me for a month about my job, absolutely.”

Kane sticks his tongue out at Nic and Nic grabs it, tugs. That playful charm is what draws

everyone to Nic. It’s also how he escapes trouble.

“Would you like to share a drink with me? When you’re done tongue-tying your friend,

that is.”

“Me? Sure.” Nic looks a little confused. “I can always use a little lubrication.”

“Excellent.” I turn and get the attention of Royu, the bartender, and indicate a refill for

myself and one for Nic. Royu will know what the lovely man is drinking tonight.

Royu nods and winks, and Nic’s lips twist. Such a moveable feast, that mouth.

“You’ve never stopped to talk to me before.”

“No, I haven’t.” I could just come out and tell him what I want, offer my proposal to take

him on as a sub, but I want to see if he will ask, and if he does, what he will ask.

“Huh.”

“Nicky! Nicky, come dance with us?” Two little twinks bebop up, wrap around Nic,

kissing his cheek.

God, he’s sexy. Beautiful.

I answer for him. “Maybe later, boys. He’s having a drink with me.”

“Oh. Oh! Sorry, Master.” They are a slinky pair, rubbing together, seductive. And they

make an excellent foil for Nikolai. Perhaps one day I’ll do a scene with all three of them.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. “It’s fine, boys. You didn’t know.”

Nic looks at them. “We’ll goof off later. Maybe play Spin the Bottle.”

“Maybe. Don’t bank on it, though, boys.” I give them a wink then turn my attention back

to Nikolai.

He looks at me, obviously curious, but doesn’t ask.

Royu brings our drinks—my Coke and his…

“What the hell is that?”

Nic grins. “A flaming Dr. Pepper.” He blows the flame out with a puff.

I have to laugh. He’s a showy, beautiful, pushy boy.

Nic shoots the drink back, long throat working. “Thanks for that. Love the burn.”

“Do you really?” If he does, why does he always work his way out of hard scenes with

cries and whimpers and those puppy dog eyes? I want to know. No. I need to know.

“Huh?” Those huge dark eyes meet mine.

“You said you love the burn. Do you?”

“Sure. That’s why I drink them.”

“I wasn’t talking about the drink, boy.”

I get a look. “I’m no one’s boy.”

“Don’t you want to be?” Surely, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t, but his actions don’t

seem to agree.

He shrugs. “What does it matter? Do you want to play or what?”

“I do want to play. I should warn you though, Nikolai. I’m interested in far more than just

playing.” A pushy boy like him needs someone full-time—someone who won’t be scared away

by the fact he needs a strong hand.

“We’ll see. I’m not the long-term type.”

No, Nikolai pushes everyone away. I have seen him do it again and again, but he hasn’t

pushed me away yet. “I need your safeword, Nikolai.”

“Camel.” At my look, he shrugs. “It’s what I smoke.”

“It’s a filthy habit.” I tuck away the safeword in the back of my mind. I won’t forget it.

“Maybe. Addictions are entertaining.”

“Can be entertaining. Some are dangerous and deadly.”

“That’s cool. I’m easy.” And glib. And fierce. And, I think, scared.

I touch his cheek, letting my fingers linger on the smooth skin. It’s warm, which surprises

me, because he looks like he’d be cool to the touch, like porcelain.

Heat stirs in my belly, in my balls. And I keep stroking; it’s not a sudden and sharp

electricity. It’s something much deeper, a warmth that grows between us. A tension full of

promise.

Those dark eyes fasten onto me, staring. He’s either going to run or kiss me. I wait for

him to choose, willing it to be the kiss. Come on, pushy boy. Don’t stop pushing now.

He leans in, kisses me hard and fast, biting my bottom lip.

Brat. Pushy, exciting, wonderful brat. I want him. There’s no two ways about it.

I put my hand behind his head and tug him in, taking a kiss of my own. It’s hard, like his

was, but not fast. Not fast at all. His hands land on my shoulders, not pushing me away, but

keeping me at a distance.

When I break the kiss, I look into his face. “Tell me what you like.” It isn’t a question.

I’m ordering him to tell me.

“I like to play.” That’s not an answer, and what’s more, he knows it.

I let a hint of a growl slide into my voice. “Be specific, boy.”

“Well, I mean. I like to…” Nic shrugs. “I’m easy, man. What are you into?”

“I’m into you answering my questions when I ask.” I’m not letting him off the hook. I

know most other Doms have; he’s been able to get away with any shit he pulls. It’s not going to

work with me.

“I’m a sub. You know, I like sub stuff.” He looks at me like he really believes that’s an

answer, but it’s not one I’m going to be satisfied with.

I have to ask. “Do you even know what you want, Nikolai?”

There it is. The tiniest shake of the head. No. No, he doesn’t.

“Then it’s a good thing I came over, isn’t it?” He might push, but I know how to push

back, and I’m not going to run off just because he isn’t easy.

And yes, I’m willing to admit the fact he isn’t easy is part of what makes him so

seductive to me. I don’t want some easy sub without a mind of his own.

His lips part and he looks toward the bartender. But no, I think he’s had enough to drink,

even if it was mostly non-alcoholic.

“We can start small. Work our way up to…more intense things. You’ve got your

safeword, and I’ve got experience.”

“Maybe…maybe we could try.” He stands, and I can smell him—sandalwood and soap

and all delicious male. “I need a quick smoke, man.”

“No. If we’re going to do this, we’re starting now, and you won’t smoke.”

He needs to learn I’m not a Dom he can work his way around.

“I need a cigarette.” The pout is adorable. It doesn’t work on me, but it is adorable.

“I won’t have you smelling or tasting like an ashtray during our scene.”

The long nose wrinkles, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. “I’m not stinky!”

“Did I say you were?” I stay calm, though every honest emotion from him pulls a

response from me.

“You said…” He frowns and stamps his foot, and I have to fight the urge to laugh and

just throw him over my shoulder or drag him by his hair, caveman style. “What do you want?”

“Private scene. You, me, and one toy.”

“Just that? Okay…okay, sure. I can handle that.” His bravado really is sweet.

I also suspect he’s never had an intimate scene before—oh yes, some Tops have played in

private with him, but had it truly been a focused, intense scene? He wouldn’t be so glib if any of

them had been.

“I’ll let you pick the toy. And Nic, don’t be quick to throw this gift back in my face.” I

wasn’t going to be in the habit of letting him choose what instruments we used in our play.

“Anything I want?”

“Yes.” I’m on pins and needles, very interested in what Nikolai will pick.

“Cool. I can do that. Let’s…let’s do a blindfold.”

I have to admit I’m surprised. It’s a huge offer of trust, and I am quick to accept his

choice. “That works for me. I have a room in the back reserved.”

“Okay.” The pack of cigarettes is moved from one pocket to another.

“Do you have a blindfold you’d like to use?” If not, there will be at least one if not

several to choose from in the playroom. I want to know if this is something he’s actually serious

about or something he’s pulled out of the air.

“Like I have one in my back pocket. Although, that would be fun, huh?”

I nod, grin even. “It would be. Have blindfold, will travel.” Winking, I stand.

Nic chuckles and shifts, one foot to another. I hold out a hand. I’ve already collected the

key card. It’s in my pocket. Room three. Nic looks nervous for about half a second, then that

bravado returns.

Bang. It’s a lovely, bratty mask, but it’s a mask nonetheless. He puts his hand in mine,

and we head for the back rooms together.

Chapter Two

It’s quiet back here, the low rumble from the main room muffled. I’m always pleased

with the cleanliness of the private rooms, the simplicity. White sheets on a simple queen sized

mattress. A spanking bench, a table and chairs. The cabinet holds the barest supplies—a paddle,

some cuffs, some lube, a simple black blindfold. Nothing too personal.

I take out the blindfold. It’s soft, but not shiny the way satin would be. I hand it over so

Nic can touch it, examine it. Anticipate it. Nic takes it but looks at me, stares at me. He is letting

me lead, and I know this is another gift. I might pay for it later, but for now he is being generous

with himself.

“I’m going to blindfold you then undress you,” I tell him, wanting him to know what’s

going to happen.

“Works for me. I’m okay with naked.”

That doesn’t surprise me at all. He’s a beautiful boy.

I take the blindfold back and move behind him. I can see the tension across his shoulders,

in his back. He’s not nearly as cavalier as he likes to pretend. But that’s okay because I’m not

casual about this at all.

I draw the blindfold across his eyes. Once I have it tied, I run my fingers through his hair,

enjoying the silky feel. It’s heavier than I’d thought it would be, honestly, and very thick.

“You like guys with long hair?” he asks.

“I like it on you.” I don’t have a type so much when it comes to physical attributes. I like

a man that needs what I can give, who craves it. I think Nikolai can be that guy.

I lean in and breathe, pulling his scent into my lungs.

Nic steps away, obviously surprised.

“Where are you going, boy?” It feels right, to call him that.

“Nowhere. Sorry, man.”

I’d like more respect than his off-handed “man” offers, but I need to address his apology

first. “You don’t have to apologize for your reactions, especially if I haven’t given you any

orders yet.”

“Are you going to touch me?”

“I am.” I speak quietly, keeping the mood between us intimate.

God, he’s lovely, standing there, shivering for me. I reach around him and begin to undo

his buttons. His belly goes tight, hard, like he’s pulling into himself. There’s nowhere for him to

hide, though. And I’m going to strip him bare. Completely. Totally bare.

I slide my hand along his belly, from his chest bone all the way down to his waistband.

His abs roll, the beauty of his pale skin compared to my tanned hand is breathtaking. Groaning, I

start opening his pants. He reaches for his fly, unzipping it for me.

I nuzzle his neck then pull his shirt off his body, trapping his hands. “I’ll do it.”

“But.”

I swat his ass, hard. “I said I’ll do it.” I growl a little. “I don’t like repeating myself, boy.”

“Okay! You don’t have to hit!”

“You don’t like spankings, Nic? Most subs get off on them big time.”

Nic shrugs. That’s not an answer.

“I asked you a question, boy.” I spank him again.

He moans, and I see his prick fill. No matter what he says now, there’s my answer.

“You didn’t say you’d be spanking!”

“You didn’t say you’d be ducking my questions and making me repeat myself, either,” I

point out.

“I’m not. Jesus.”

“Then answer my question, Nic. Do you like spankings or not?”

“I like good ones from talented Tops.”

I’ve shaken him a little bit, I can tell. I think it’s a good thing—he needs to be shaken up

and to push back, and he needs me to push right back instead of giving way like everyone before

me has.

“You don’t like admitting your needs, do you?”

He sniffs and shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” Does he not even want to admit it to himself?

“Don’t speak for me, man. I know my own brain.”

“Do you?” I open his pants and pull them down along his hips.

“I do.” His muscles ripple, his long, thin cock continuing to fill for me.

He’s shaved bare, and it makes me draw in a breath, my own cock twitching hard. “Who

shaved you, boy?”

“I did it. It made my prick look bigger.”

I manage not to burst out laughing. “There’s nothing wrong with your prick, boy.”

His pale skin goes rosy, not hiding anything. Damn, I am going to remember this.

I slide my hand down along his belly, fingers sliding across his dick. His breath stops,

and he waits, so tense. I run my fingers right to the tip, sweep my index finger across it, then

slide them back up over his sweet belly.

He’s focused on me, on my touch.

I flick his right nipple. “You’d look great with a pair of rings.” His long, lean body is

almost calling for them.

“I almost did, once, but I chickened out.”

“That’s the kind of thing that’s better with your master there to hold your hand, anyway.”

When he’s my boy, I’m going to decorate him. Piercings and ink, both. He’ll fuss and protest,

but unless he safewords, my will is law.

I’m still behind him, looking down along the beautiful length of him. I can feel the heat

pouring off his body, and it’s sexy as fuck. I find his balls, roll them gently. It’s stunning, how

his lips part, his tongue flicks out.

I blow into Nikolai’s ear, and he steps forward again, moves away from me.

I growl and grab his hips, yank him back against me. “You don’t walk away from me.”

He stiffens, pulls the blindfold off. “I didn’t. You surprised me.”

“Put that back on before you earn a punishment.” I snap the words out. Already he’s

pushing, trying to get me to end things. I’m not going to.

“I didn’t tell you that you could.”

I chuckle softly. “You know exactly what a scene is, and you know what it means to

disobey during one.” I smack his ass again. I have to admit, I could get used to this.

“Leave me alone.” That pretty cock is hard as nails now, though.

“Do I need to bind you to get you to obey? I’d have thought you would have the strength

of will to do it without aid.”

“Stop it.” He’s off-balance, off-center.

I have a hunch this is exactly the point where most men back off. I’m not going to. Not

unless he uses his safeword. “I’m not doing anything right now, boy. Unfortunately, neither are

you. Put the blindfold back on. Now.” I stare at him.

“I don’t want to.”

Pretty little liar. His cock is telling a completely different story.

“If you don’t, I will put you over my knee and spank you.” Let’s see which one he wants

more—the blindfold or the spanking.

His lips part and he stares at me, obviously shocked.

“I won’t say it again.” It’s the only warning I’m going to give him.

The blindfold flies across the air between us and slaps me in the chest.

“Spanking it is.” That suits me. I’m going to enjoy making his sweet ass rosy. I take his

hand before he has a chance to react and pull him to the chair.

“I-I can’t. I don’t.” That sweet ass is right there, pale and bare for me.

I sit in the chair and tug him down, make sure his prick is between my leather-clad legs.

God, it really is a beautiful ass.

His breath is coming fast and light, and he’s struggling, pushing at my legs, grabbing for

me.

I put one hand on his back. “Breathe, boy. In and out.”

“This is a mistake.” He takes in a deep breath, though.

“No, I think it’s long overdue.” I rub his ass with my other hand, letting the anticipation

build.

He’s shivering, holding my leg now, fingers digging in.

“Five swats, boy. And then we’ll resume.”

I bring my hand down on that beautiful ass. My handprint shows, white at first, then

flushing bright pink.

“Mmm. Lovely.” I swat his ass again.

“No…” He kicks, but the motion is almost idle. Almost practiced, for show.

I swat again, harder this time. “That’s three. Two more.”

His kicks push his cock between my thighs.

“No coming from this, boy.” I smack Nikolai again, wait a beat and hit him again.

“That’s all. That’s all…”

“Next time I’ll make you count.” I rub my hand over his ass. Five were hardly enough,

and there’s barely any color there, but I’m sure he’ll give me plenty of opportunities to punish

him again.

He moans, pushes up into my hand. Needy boy.

“Is it next time already, boy?”

He stills. “W-what?”

“I think we should do it again; this time with you counting.” I know how much he wants

it. His ass is still pushing against my hand.

“No. No, I don’t need to.” But he doesn’t move.

“We do. Five more. Count for me.” I rub his ass again, then raise my hand, giving him a

beat to get used to the idea, and I swat him.

“Nooo…” His thighs spread, and I can smell him. God.

“That didn’t sound like a one to me. Let’s try again.” I give Nic another swat.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck…” Once again, not a one.

I smack Nikolai’s ass again.

“Ow! Stop it!” His hips start rolling faster. I imagine he wants it harder, too.

“I’m waiting for you to start counting, boy.” I meet the next rise of his hips with a solid

swat.

It takes him four more swats, four more screams before I hear the “one”.

“Good boy. Keep counting.” I hit his beautiful, rosy ass again.

“Two. Two, stop please.”

“Good boy. And we’re going to five.” I hit him again, my handprint going stark white

against his red ass, then filling immediately with color again.

“No. No more. No more.” He’s humping my legs, rippling on my thighs.

“You’re not allowed to come without my permission, boy.” I give him the warning before

spanking him again. Also, he needs to give me my three.

I wait, is he going to give it to me or do I have to do it again?

Nic pants, chest heaving.

“Count,” I demand, smacking his ass again.

“Five!”

“Nice try, boy. The last one you counted was two. That makes us at three, when you

finally call it correctly.” I hit his ass again.

“No. No, we’re at five.”

God, I’ve never met someone who needs so very badly.

“Nope.” I let my hand drop again.

“No! You let me go!” He starts kicking and pounding on my legs.

I press my hand harder against his back and start really spanking him, one hit after the

other. He can be as pushy as he likes; I’m going to push back.

He makes a complete fuss, and it isn’t until I don’t slow down that I hear, “Three, you

mean man.”

“Good boy. Two more.” I swat him again, this time giving him the chance to count.

He does, then sobs, still draped over my legs, his ass glowing red.

“One more to count.” I spank him for what I hope is the last time.

“Five. Let me up.”

“Not yet.” I rub his ass, letting the burn sink in. “That was a good job, boy.”

Now I let him up, pulling him into my arms to give him comfort. He shakes, like he’s

unsure whether to pull away or push closer. I don’t give him a choice. I hold him close and tight.

If he wants to leave, he’s going to have to use his safeword.

Come on, boy. Take the care you need. I press his head to my shoulder and stroke my

hand through his lovely hair.

“I don’t like you very much.” He sniffles then presses into me.

“I know.” I’m what he needs, though. And I don’t want him to like me. I want something

much more real from him.

I let my hand slide down, barely stroke the bright red, burning skin of his ass. I kiss the

top of his head, feeling him getting heavier as he leans against me.

“I should…”

No. No, he should stay.

“You should relax. We have the room all night.” I’m not giving him up.

“All night.” He takes a deep breath and lets me hold him.

“That’s right.” I have to wonder if he’s ever lasted long enough in a scene to enjoy this

part of it.

His skin is soft, smooth, and I can’t stop touching him, stroking him. I want this. I want

him and his surrender—hard earned and worth more than the easy sweetness of most of the subs

I’ve met.

“What happens now?”

“We move to the bed and see if that hard-on was just for the spanking, or if it was for me

too.” I want it to be for more than just the spanking.

“Like those aren’t the same.” Was that a compliment?

I liked to think that it was.

I gather him close and manage to stand. He’s no lightweight little twink, but I’m still

strong enough to lift him, just, and carry him to the bed.

He’s staring at me, wide-eyed. “You can’t carry me.”

That makes me chuckle because despite his words, I clearly am carrying him. I sit on the

bed, keeping him close. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“What if I don’t kiss on the first date?”

“You’ve already kissed me, boy,” I remind him.

Nic’s cheeks turn bright red. Silly sub.

I lean in and take his lips, and they’re soft, pliant beneath my own. They open, Nic’s

tongue sliding and greeting mine. I groan and lick my way into his mouth. He kisses me back,

tongue tentative still, but only for a breath or two. Then we’re kissing like our lives depend on it,

devouring each other eagerly. He doesn’t hold back, sucking on my tongue, hands pushing into

my clothes.

I like his need. It’s hot. My prick is hard, pushing at my leathers. He works a hand

between us and starts rubbing at me, at my cock.

“Did I give you permission to touch me, boy?”

“Hmm?” Nic isn’t listening.

I take his hand in mine, removing it from my body. “I said, ‘Did I give you permission to

touch me?’”

He pouts. “You want me to.”

“That’s not what I asked you.” He’s a handful this one. A delightful handful. I squeeze

his ass, make it sting. “I want an answer to my question, boy.”

Nic looks confused. “You asked a question?”

“Yes. I asked you if I gave you permission to touch me.”

“I didn’t ask.” Stubborn boy.

“Which means you don’t get to touch me.”

“You want me to, though.” Nic tries to tug his hands from mine, wriggling so beautifully

in my lap.

“That’s not the point, boy. You can ask for permission or wait for me to ask you.” I keep

hold of his hands, not letting go for a moment.

He’s so used to having his own way that this small barrier is a huge turn on for him. His

excitement is ramping up again, his cock full, curving over his belly. One day I’ll bind that prick,

make him come just from having his hole touched, stretched, fucked.

When he remains stubbornly silent, I prompt him. “Are you going to ask?”

“Let me touch you.”

I manage not to chuckle at the almost demand. “Was that a question?”

“Absolutely.”

I slap his hip, not hard, but he’ll be sore enough to feel it. “You have a problem with

authority.”

“I do not.” Little liar.

“Then why are you pushing so hard?”

“I don’t know.” That may be the first honest thing he’s said to me.

I kiss his forehead lightly and lie back on the mattress. “You may undress me, touch me.”

He deserves a reward for his honesty.

The gentleness seems to make him nervous, but he slides my shirt off, works my leathers

open. I watch him closely, and I react to every time his fingers brush my skin.

Nic sighs, his hand wrapping around my cock, measuring me, base to tip. He’s got soft

hands, and I enjoy them on me.

He begins to jack me, and he’s got a sure technique, almost practiced.

I grab his wrist, silently telling him to slow down. “We have all night, boy.”

“Just trying to get you off.” He’s verging on another pout.

“I don’t want to get off. I want you to explore me, learn what I like.”

His lips twist and he’s uncomfortable again, stiff. “You don’t like it?”

“I don’t like a quick rub and tug, no. I like to take my time.”

“I jack off fast and hard.” The words are almost defiant.

I move his hand, stroking my prick nice and slow.

“When we draw up a contract, you won’t be allowed to jack off at all.” Because now I’m

sure this is what I want, now I know how much he needs me, and how good we can be together.

“A contract?” He snorts, thumb working my slit. “Not going to happen.”

“It will,” I tell him.

Chapter Three

He wants it to. He needs it to; I can feel that pouring off his skin like sweat. And I feel it

too, that pull, that intensity and attraction.

I take his mouth, leaning over him and devouring him. He opens, hand still working my

cock. I put my hand back on his and stop him. He whimpers, fighting me, kissing me with a

ferocity and a hunger. That is honest, that need, and I wrap my hand around his prick. It had

gone down to half-hard since we started talking, but all it takes is my touch and he’s hard again.

I’ve never met anyone who needed so badly—or should that be so well? Ever. He must

be terrified of that need, with the way he pushes and acts up.

I stroke him slowly as I devour his mouth, fingers learning the shape of his cock. He

starts to gasp, to moan into the kisses. I change things up a little, stroking more slowly, but

rubbing my thumb across the tip with every upstroke. He whines for me, arches into my touch.

“No coming without my permission.” I shouldn’t have to say it—it’s pretty much

standard among masters, but I know he needs me to say it, or he’ll come on purpose, just to push.

His answer is a low, soft groan.

I keep jacking and go back to kissing him, stealing his breath. Wild little sounds push out

of him, and I breathe him in. Groaning, I jack him a little faster, pushing him, making him work

to keep from coming.

“Goddamn it,” he snarls, almost growling at me.

“Watch your tone, boy.” If he won’t be able to comply, he needs to tell me, to warn me.

He needs to trust me with it.

“Let me go!”

“That’s not how this works.” I tug harder, watching his every move, his every breath.

“Let me go. Damn it. I can’t…”

I slow my stroking but don’t let go. “You can’t what?”

“Think. Do this. Anything.”

“You’re doing this just fine.” I increase my speed again and lean in to whisper in his ear.

“Just a few more seconds and you’ll be allowed to come.”

I feel him, tightening all against me.

“Wait for it, boy.”

He screams, kicking, fighting me.

“The harder you make this, the longer I wait to let you come.” That’s how this works.

“I hate you!”

“That’s okay.” I keep stroking, working his leaking prick. He’s harder than ever.

He sobs softly, bucking on my lap.

I lick his earlobe, suck on it, then bite just after murmuring, “You can come.”

Heat splashes over my legs, just so.

“What a good boy.” I rub the cum into his belly, the scent of him intoxicating.

He’s trembling, shivering, hiding behind that dark hair.

“My turn, boy. What are you going to do to make me come?”

“What do you want?”

“I want this beautiful mouth with the pouty lips.” I trace his lips, fingers rubbing the soft

skin, imagining them swollen, wet, wrapped around my cock.

His lips open, his tongue touching my fingers. I push my finger deeper into his mouth. I

get a sharp little nip. Then he pushes back, settles between my legs, and his mouth drops over my

cock.

“Fuck!” I buck up, pushing deep.

He sucks me hard, that fucking heat blazing as he works me.

“Take your time,” I tell him. “I want it to last.”

He slows the motions of his head, which helps some, but the pressure doesn’t let up.

“Has no one ever taught you the value of building things up?” I think no one’s ever

taught him anything. I don’t think Nic’s allowed it. I think it’s about fucking time someone

Topped him and meant it.

I’m that someone.

My eyes cross as he sucks even harder. His fingers roll my balls in their sac, pushing me.

It won’t be much longer, so I wrap my fingers in his hair and start to thrust up into his mouth,

taking it, taking his mouth.

He takes me in and takes me in, pulling harder at my cock. Moaning, I come, my spunk

pouring down his throat, pouring into him. And he takes me, in and in, leaving me panting,

leaning back on my elbows.

Groaning as I finish, I drop back and touch his head, his silky hair, which is all mussed

now. He stays still for a minute or so, then slowly eases back, goes for his jeans.

“Stop. We’re not done yet.” I plan to spend the night with him. What's more, he knows

that. I’ve already mentioned it.

“What?”

“I’m not finished with you yet, boy.” Even if we were, I wouldn’t let him go—he’s not in

charge here, I am.

“You got off.”

“And so did you, that’s not the point, though.”

His jeans are in his hands, his hair is a mess, and he’s stunning. More beautiful than I’ve

ever seen him.

“Put down the jeans and get back in bed.” It’s a direct order.

He stands there, eyes wide, watching me.

I let my right eyebrow go up, waiting for him to do as he was told.

“I’m going home.” He steps closer, though, his breath coming faster.

“You’re leaving before we’ve completed a single scene together? I’d heard you were a

quitter.”

Suddenly, it’s like a shutter falls over Nic’s face and I know, like I know my own name,

that I’ve fucked this up, stepped somewhere we don’t know each other well enough to step yet.

“You heard right.” His jeans get tugged on, and he grabs his shoes and shirt, never even

looking at me.

“I was hoping what I’d heard was wrong.” Can I save the night? Save the session? Save

this thing that’s between us that could be so strong and vital?

“Well, it wasn’t. I suck. I’m a diva and a quitter and probably a shitty fuck.”

“If you keep leaving before you get to know anyone, that’s never going to change. I saw

something in you, Nikolai. That’s why I chose you.”

“Shut up.”

God, I almost laugh because he looks shocked, surprised.

“No, I’m the one who gives the orders. So get those clothes off and get back to bed.” I

give him a little smile. “There’s a whole other world after the scene, after the fucking, that you’re

not getting to tap into. You should stick around, see what you’re missing.”

It’s his curiosity. That’s his weakness, and he takes another step toward me.

“Bed’s still warm.” I slide my hand on the spot next to me.

Another step. One more and he’s right there. I reach out my hand to him, meeting him

part way. When he reaches out, fingers touching mine, I want to scream with it.

“The after part’s the best part, Nic.”

The shoes and shirt drop to the floor with a soft thud. “Yeah?”

“Come and see.” Come on, lovely boy. Trust me a little.

His dark eyes search mine, then he sits, leans into me. I put my arm around him and draw

him back down into my arms. He’s still got his jeans on, but his chest is warm, bare.

“Why don’t you ever stay after a scene?” Although from what I’ve heard, many don’t

actually run to completion

He shrugs. “It’s time to go. I just…it’s weird.”

“Wanting to connect with someone isn’t weird.” It’s what being human is all about.

“It might be. You don’t know. You don’t know anything about me.”

“Hence why I want you to stay, Nic.” I want to know every little thing about him. And

there’s only one way to learn—to be together.

He doesn’t answer, and I let him rest a bit, lean into me.

How many times has he let himself be held by his Top? How many Doms has he actually

let in? My guess is not many, maybe none.

Well, damn it. I want to be the first.

“This should be a safe place.” I want to be his shelter from the world, the place he can

truly be himself.

“That’s a fiction we all tell each other.”

“No. It’s something to strive for.” Someone has hurt him, and that makes me growl.

“You’ve had bad experiences,” I suggest. He can pick that up and talk to me, he can simply

acknowledge it, or he can ignore me. That’s his choice, and I can’t make it for him.

He doesn’t look at me. “Everyone has bad experiences.”

“You push people away hard enough I think yours was worse than most.”

“You don’t know me.”

“That’s why I’m asking you questions, boy.”

“I come here so there aren’t questions.”

It makes me sad, how lonely that must be for him. “I want to get to know you, Nic. I want

to be able to give you everything you need.”

“It’s not an option.” Nic kisses my shoulder, the touch gentle as all fuck.

That only serves to ratchet up my curiosity. “Why not?”

Nic doesn’t answer, just pulls away.

I stroke this shoulder and tug him back. “I’m not planning on hurting you, Nic.”

His heart is racing, and I keep touching him. I’m going to keep pressing, keep letting him

know I want it all, the good and the bad. He breathes, nose on my chest. I ignore the slight tickle

and concentrate instead on the closeness, the intimacy of it.

“So, do we just sit here?” he asks.

“We can. Or we can talk. Sleep. Neck.” For the moment, I’m easy; it just needs to be the

two of us, together.

“You like that? Just sitting?”

“With someone special? It has its place. Comfort, closeness, these are good things.” I

keep touching him, not letting him feel abandoned.

“You want me to go get you a beer or something?” It seems he really can’t believe I’d

want to just sit here and be with him.

“No, I’m good.” I lean in slowly and kiss him gently.

He trembles for me, so off-center, so confused. So delicious. I trace his lips with the tip

of my tongue, offering him pleasure. He opens, then pulls away, then pushes back in close.

I wrap my hand around his head and hold him in place as I turn the licks into a kiss. He

groans, pushes his tongue into my mouth, trying to fuck me with it. I grab his tongue between

my lips and start sucking on it, taking control. His eyes open, widen, and he tries to pull away. I

don’t let him, though, I keep sucking, keep holding him right where he is.

He growls, pushes at my chest.

“Go ahead, boy. Fight me as much as you want. I can take it.” And I won’t run away like

everyone else he’s pushed away.

Then I turn him over, cover him, let him have something to struggle against. It’s

fascinating as he starts screaming, biting at his lips.

I press my mouth against his throat and begin sucking, working up a mark.

“No. No marks.” His chins lifts, giving me more room.

I ignore the verbal protest and listen to his body instead, and I keep sucking. Curse

words, threats, complaints—they fill the air, but his safeword doesn’t. I let go with my lips,

scrape my teeth over the spot.

“Ow. No marking. No biting.”

“Too late.” I move to give the other side of his neck the same treatment.

“No. No, more.” His fingers curl into the back of my neck, holding me close.

I suck hard, tongue lashing at his skin.

“Stop it, goddamn it.” His cock begins to slide on my leg. Sweet, eager boy.

He’s holding on tight, moaning for me even as he cusses. I keep sucking, using my

tongue and my teeth on his skin. He’s starting to move, to undulate, and I wonder if he knows it.

I let him do it, let him take what he needs as I sink my teeth into his collarbone.

“Fuck!” He grabs me, tugging my hair.

I growl. “Don’t make me bind your hands, boy.”

“That’s not on the table.”

“Then behave.” There, I’ve made it clear what will happen if he doesn’t behave.

“You bit me!”

“And you loved it, boy.”

“I did not!” He is such a liar—is he lying to himself as well as me?

I grab his dripping cock in my hand. “No?”

He won’t even look at me, just shakes his head. I bend very slowly and bite his

collarbone again. His cock jerks, swells, fills my grip even more. I scrape my teeth along the

bone, following it by slaps of my tongue.

“No more biting. You ass. No biting!”

“You don’t have to call me names, boy.” I bite his shoulder this time, then lap at the hurt.

“I’m not anyone’s boy.”

His skin tastes so good—salt and something I can’t put my finger on. “I want to change

that, though, don’t I? That’s why we’re here.”

His answer is more silence, more of that heavy withdrawal.

It makes me growl a little, but I resist biting again—I won’t do it while I’m annoyed.

Instead, I start circling one nipple, tracing it in slow, lazy circles. His prick is still hard against

my palm, but I’m only holding him now, not stroking.

He begins to relax, and his breath joins with mine. I start stroking his prick again, gentle,

easy motions. My focus is on his chest, though, just tracing around the sweet nip. Over and over,

I trace it with my tongue, teasing him, making him need, but not giving it to him, making him

wait for me to touch that sweet little hard bit of flesh.

It’s hard, darkening, begging for my touch, but I don’t give it. No, I think I want to hear

him actually beg for it.

He starts moaning softly, wriggling in my arms. I run my nose along the marks on his

neck. I feel it when he swallows, his throat moving for me. At that show of need, I lick the spot,

pressing it with my tongue.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Tasting your bruises.”

Nic gives me a cry, and I let myself hum, satisfied. I stroke his lovely prick, admiring

each inch. He shifts, trying to make me stroke his nipple, touch him there. I don’t, though. He’s

going to have to ask for it.

He’s stubborn, arching, pushing up, reaching for me. I make sure to keep teasing and not

actually touch, though, moving with him. I can be stubborn, too.

“Damn it...”

“You want something, boy?” Need something?

“What are you doing? There’s nothing there.”

“Nothing where?”

Nic wiggled. “Where you’re touching.”

“Sure there is, it’s called your areole.”

Nic ducks his head, watching me, my finger, then he moans.

I repeat the question, slightly rephrased. “You need something, boy?”

“Just touch me.”

“I am touching you, Nikolai.” Round and round and round my finger goes.

“That’s not… You’re teasing.” His nipple aches, I can tell.

“But I am touching you.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“No. Not a bastard. But I’m not an easy master.”

Of course, he’s not an easy boy, now, is he?

“My skin aches.”

“Then tell me what you need.” I’m not giving in.

Nic twists. “I need you to stop teasing.”

I lift my finger from his skin. “To stop teasing and what?”

He groans.

Oh, listen to that frustration and need. I press our lips together, swallowing the amazing

sounds.

Nic reaches up, pinches his own nipple. Hard.

“Nic!” I grab his hands and move them up over his head.

The little shit surprised me, touching himself, pinching that nip. I get to punish him, get

to push back. “I’m going to have to bind you now. Keep you from doing something like that

again.”

“No…” Look at him blush, look at that long cock jerk and leak for me.

“Yes.”

There are cuffs attached to the headboard here, discretely hidden beneath the edge of the

mattress, so I don’t even have to fetch them.

He shakes his head, staring at me. I nod, staring right back as I put the cuff around his

right wrist.

“You can’t do this.”

Oh, I can. I am. And he’s not safewording.

“Of course I can.” I put his other wrist in the other cuff.

He’s all stretched out for me long and lean and lovely. “If I safeword, you’ll let me go?”

For the first time in this, I feel like he’s really talking to me.

“The answer to that will always be yes, Nic.” It’s one of the most sacred tenets of what

we do, and I believe in it.

“I want to go home.”

“What if that’s here?” I ache to have a boy of my own, for us to find our home in each

other. I see that in him, have glimpsed it as I watched him. I want it.

He shakes his head. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Why does it make you uncomfortable?” I’m going to keep pushing back at him.

“I don’t know. Stop talking. Can’t we stop talking?”

Anytime we get personal, he pulls away or pushes me away. It’s as fascinating as it is

frustrating.

I drag my hand along his stretched out side. “We’re talking, but we haven’t said very

much really.”

He hides his face in his upper arm, protecting himself, withdrawing again, and now it’s

more frustrating, given that we’d had a second of connection.

I lean in to nuzzle at his armpit, looking to make him laugh, to ease him again. He offers

me a soft, shocked little sound, goose bumps covering his ribs.

I lick at his skin and breathe in deeply, pulling his scent in.

“Oh…” He arches, ass pushing into the mattress.

I grab at the hairs there with my teeth and tug gently.

Oh. Oh, that laugh. It charms me, bone deep, so honest, so dear.

I tug some more then nose the hairs.

“Tickles. Tingles.”

“Good.” I use my fingers to tug this time.

Nic shifts away, but I hear that little laugh, and I love how he’s relaxing for me. Smiling,

I move on to nibble at his ribs. His belly is gorgeous, taut, tight. I trace it with my fingers,

admiring. Nic’s knees bend, the action as natural as breathing.

Chapter Four

I slide my hand between his legs, rubbing the inside of his thighs. So soft, like satin. I run

my fingertips down them, letting my nails run along his skin. He grunts and pulls up, knees to his

chest. Exposing himself to me.

Groaning, I run my finger along the line of flesh where thighs become ass, then move to

his crack. He clenches, tightens, hiding from me.

“Let me in, let me in.”

“I…” Nic sucks in a breath.

“Not by the hairs on your chinny chin chin?” I’m hoping to break the tension a little

again.

He blinks, then I get my laugh, and he does relax for me.

I keep stroking his hole, letting him get used to my finger while he’s still laughing, while

he’s relaxed.

“Your hands are warm.”

“All the better to touch you with.” I press against his hole. I have to admit to being

surprised when he pushes back, lets me in. My finger sinks to the second knuckle, and I wriggle

it around. Nic squeezes me, teasing, playing, and it’s charming, dear. I pull my finger back, push

it back in again.

His eyelids get heavy, and he licks his lips. God, he’s sexy; he makes me want so many

wicked things.

“Fuck yourself on my finger, boy. Show me how much you need.”

Is the pleasure enough of a draw for him to make himself even more vulnerable to me?

Nic closes his eyes and begins to move, his hole gripping my finger. I watch him ride me,

a soft moan coming from me; he’s like a wave personified.

“Beautiful boy.” I lean forward, brush our lips together.

Then I lean down and flick my tongue across the nipple I never quite managed to touch

earlier. Nic’s hole grips my finger like a fist, a loud cry on the air. I flap at that sweet bit of flesh

again and again, pushing my finger deep.

“More. Please. More.” He’s begging me for what I want, and it makes me smile. And

give him more.

I use my teeth, scraping along the tiny nub.

“Fuck.” The filthy word is bitten out, and I know that’s going to be the first rule. No

cursing.

We’re going to have so much fun together. Rules, punishments, rewards. Pain, pleasure.

Need.

Groaning, I close my lips around the little nub and begin sucking. He moves faster on my

finger, fucking himself a little wildly.

I let my finger slip away. “You need another finger, and I need lube.”

He arches, his body reaching for me.

There’s lube on the little table by the bed, so I don’t have to go far, which is probably a

good thing. I’m not convinced this mood would survive me actually leaving the bed. He’s still

not watching me, but he’s breathing in time with me.

I slick my fingers up, moving slowly. The anticipation is making my breath quicken, and

he matches me. I don’t know if he’s even aware he’s doing it. It doesn’t matter. What matters is

his focus right now.

I rub my slick fingers across his hole. I feel him, shivering and jerking around my touch. I

can make this last all night long, and I plan to do it, to make it last, to let it overwhelm him.

“Hungry little hole.”

My words make him whimper.

“Gonna make it mine.”

He hears me, I can feel it as he clenches against my fingertips, one of which has pushed

in the barest bit. I wriggle it, stroking him from the inside.

“More. Deeper.”

I want to shout in triumph, but I don’t. I celebrate instead in private.

“Pushy little bottom.” I back off, petting his hole, stroking it. “Going to make you really

beg for it.”

“Come on. I asked nicely.”

“That wasn’t begging though.” I stroke the sweet skin again.

“Uh-huh. Was too.” He wriggles against me, pushing against my touch.

“I say it wasn’t.” And I’m the master. It should be enough to convince him. He’s not like

other boys, though. No, he needs a firm hand. A hard hand. My hand. “You’ll beg when you

really, really want it.” I let my nail scrape, just a little, against his hole.

A string of curses leaves him, and I smack his ass, hard. “You curse far too often. It’s a

sign of lack of control.”

“Fuck you.”

Oh, I don’t think so. I pop his ass again, harder than the first time.

He tenses, belly rippling. “Asshole.”

I swat him again. “I can do this all night.”

“I’m leaving. I don’t fucking like this.” And still he doesn’t safeword. Not only that, he

isn’t even tugging at the cuffs. He might not like it, but deep inside, he craves it.

“You’ll stay.” My swat this time is softer as he didn’t swear at me.

“I don’t like this…” But he does, I can feel the proof against my skin, his cock leaking

where it rubs against me.

“You need it.” And I know he wants it.

His whimper is low, soft, needy.

“Every time you swear, I will spank you.” Every time I’ve laid out what his punishment

will be, he has reacted well. This time is no exception.

His entire body shudders against me, his cock leaking even more. Yeah, that’s what I

thought. He responds quickly to my words; he’s beginning to trust me, I can tell. He might even

be admitting to himself now that he needs the rules.

I seal my words with a kiss. His lips part, allowing me in. I fuck his mouth with my

tongue, and fuck, he’s sweet. It’s addictive, how he cries out, bucks against me.

I let my fingers drift back down to his hole, keeping my touches light and barely there.

Soon he’s pushing again, driving back to try and take me in. I let my fingers slide away, tug

lightly on his balls.

He groans, wiggling against me. “Come on.”

“That’s not begging, boy.”

“You just keep teasing. Fucking touch me like you want to.” Nic gasps, stares at me. “I

mean… Shit.”

“That’s two.” Holding his gaze, I swat him, hard for the first, softer for the second.

“No more. I’ll bruise.” No way. He isn’t even close.

I snort. “You know what you have to do to keep me from spanking you.”

It’s so charming, how he spins from confident to unnerved to frustrated. It’s self-

protection, these little dramas.

I go back to playing with his hole, teasing the tips of my fingers into him. He’s quiet

now, still, like he’s trying to hide. I’m going to bring him back out of his shell again, teasing the

hell out of his amazing little hole.

It takes forever, he’s so strong, so stubborn, but finally he starts wiggling again, breath

speeding. I use my fingertips, let my nails scrape over that tender and sensitive skin. His ass

clenches, trying to keep me out. I scrape my nails over his hole again before pushing the tip of

my index finger in.

His lips part and he groans for me. “Please.”

“Please what, boy? Tell me what you need. Beg me for it.”

“Please. I’m aching. Help me.” The long black lashes are dotted with tears. “I’m so

tired.”

I kiss the tears away. “You know what you need to do, Nic. It’s all up to you.” I push my

finger deeper, pull it back, push and pull again.

“I need to feel more, please. Please, touch me harder.”

Such needy begging deserves a reward, and I push another finger in with the first. His

body ripples around me, welcoming me in. I finger-fuck him, pushing deep again and again.

“God, yes.” His throat works, face lovely in its need.

I push deep enough to hit his gland then stop, right there. His muscles are fluttering about

my fingers, and he’s not even breathing.

“Look at me, boy.”

His eyes are red, desperate and needy.

“Breathe and beg me to fuck you.” I can’t make my desires known any plainer than that.

He takes a hitching breath, and I lean in, breathing into his lips. That makes him jerk

back, suck in a deep, full breath.

“That’s it, boy. Now beg me to take this beautiful ass and send you to the moon.”

“Please. Please, take me. Let me feel you.” Good boy.

I make quick work of un-cuffing him, my fingers rubbing his wrists lightly. “Get the

condom, boy. You’re going to put it on me.”

He moves away, but I keep touching, needing this connection. He’s not the only one

who’s been alone. I stroke his ass, slightly red from my spankings. He arches, pushing into my

touch. So lovely.

He’s so responsive and needs so badly to be loved, adored, noticed. Pushed.

He soon has the condoms, and I smile. “Good boy.”

“Not a boy.”

He is. He’s my boy. And I’m not going to let him forget it. “You’re mine.”

He opens a rubber, stroking my cock with those long fingers.

“Mmm. You’ve got a sweet touch.”

“Thank you. I try.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. He’s such a brat. I get a smile, and I have to admit, I’m

charmed. Totally.

“Time to glove me up, boy.”

He nods and slides the condom down over my prick.

“I’m going to make you fly, boy.”

“Now is good for me.”

I laugh again. His ability to make me laugh is a surprise. A welcome surprise, mind you. I

get a sweet, charming little look, then he winks. Still chuckling, I move him, shift him, so he’s on

his back beside me again. It’s only a matter of spreading his legs, and I’m stroking his hole

again.

He’s relaxing, spreading, opening to me. I go back to teasing that sweet hole, stroking

and scraping along it.

“Jesus, I begged. Aren’t you going to fuck me?” Listen to that mouth.

I push Nic over to his side and swat him. Hard.

“Ow! You asshole!”

I swat him again, just as hard. “Language!”

“You can’t stop me!”

“I can try, boy.”

He whines softly, reaches for me. I pull him into my arms, so pleased he’s turned to me.

This is how trust is built. Just like this.

I find his lips with my own, kiss him. It starts slowly. I want his breath, his need, his

pleasure. Our kiss deepens, becomes more intense as it goes on, as I demand everything from

him with only my lips.

His fingers wrap around me, stroke my cock with a gentle, careful touch. I hum into him,

let him get me worked up again, make me nice and hard for him. He’s not trying to get me off

this time. He’s feeling me, letting me feel him. I want to cheer because this is real.

His thumb rocks over my wrapped slit, the touch still enough to ache. I move one hand

down along his chest, dragging it to touch as much of him as possible. His rhythm matches mine,

and soon we’re moaning, rocking together.

I eventually slide my fingers between his legs, finding his hole once again.

“Please.” The single word is filled with such need it nearly takes my breath away.

I push two fingers into him. He’s stretched already, and my fingers go in pretty easily. He

bears down, rocking hard, riding hard.

“Slick my prick up, boy.” I can’t wait to feel that eager need around my cock.

“Where is it?”

I lean over him and grab the tube I’ve been using to open him up, and hand it over.

“Thank you.” The lube spurts out, just going everywhere, and Nic looks up, a mixture of

worry and panic and amusement in his eyes.

I can’t keep my lips from twitching. It is funny. A snort escapes Nic. Then we both crack

up, laughing hard together. I bring him in tight, holding on as our laughter takes us. The laughter

fades, and we’re staring at each other, smiling, breathing.

This right here is connection, is something real. This is what he’s pushed away every

time he’s pushed a Dom away.

I move in slowly, bringing our lips together once again. His legs wrap around me,

holding me. I take his lube-covered hand and bring it to my cock.

He slicks me up, and we’re not playing anymore—we’re needing.

Once I’m slick, I push between his legs, getting the tip of my prick lined up with his hole.

I slide in, his heat surrounding me, holding me.

“Fuck. Nic.” The words are pulled out of me, the curse word undeniable.

Nic nods, moans. “In me.”

“Fucking in you.” I push and push until I’m all the way in, and I stare into his eyes,

circling my hips a little.

He’s tight, and I want to just slam into him, again and again, drive into him. I start

slowly, though. I know he doesn’t do this a lot, and I want him to feel every inch, every second.

I actually pull all the way out, then wait a bit before pushing back in, stretching his hole

open again. He offers me a low, needy little cry. I swallow it with my mouth and fill him again.

He grips me, needing me like no one else has, ever.

It’s a dance we share, moving and undulating, thrusting, giving, taking. I want to feel him

come, all around my cock. I keep pushing in, keep going deep, his gaze caught by mine.

“I’m going to make you mine,” I tell him.

He shakes his head.

“I am.” I push in hard, hitting his gland.

“No.” His shoulders leave the mattress.

“Yes.” I hit his gland again.

“No!” He screams, eyes wide, a deep flush covering his sweet body.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” I pound into him over and over.

He’s close. I can feel it all around my prick, those muscles squeezing me tight.

“Wait for my command.”

He meets my eyes, teeth bared, and nods.

“Good boy.” I increase the speed of my thrusts, pushing into him, thrusting with good

hard strokes. I won’t let him fail. I won’t. When I feel him beginning to strain to keep from

coming, I lean in and whisper in his ear, “Come for me.”

Spunk covers his belly, the pressure around my cock fucking perfect.

“Yes! That’s my boy.” I bang into him, making him shudder and shake, not letting him

free of his pleasure as I search out my own.

It’s insane, this need, this curious connection. It’s there, though. It was what drew me to

him in the first place. That and the knowledge I have what he needs, he can’t chase me off like

he does so many others with his outlandishness, his pushiness.

My teeth grit together and he squeezes me, demanding my pleasure. I manage a few more

thrusts before I’m lost in it, filling the condom as I shoot hard.

Christ, he’s sweet inside.

I lean our foreheads together as I pant for breath. He closes his eyes, but his hands are

still holding me close. And I’ll take it. Whether he knows it or not, whether he believes it or not,

we’ve forged a bond tonight.

I’m going to hold onto him, too.

He might be pushy, but I’ll be damned if I let him push me away.

Chapter Five

I’m not an especially eager or cheerful person in the mornings, though, I usually manage

to fake it well enough. Waking up next to a warm body makes the waking up better. Waking up

to Nic, even more so.

I stretch and tug him closer than he already is. His eyes fly open, the look panicked for a

second.

“It’s okay, boy. You’re in a safe place.”

“I…” Nic stares at me. “I spent the night.”

“You did, boy.” And without a fight, too. I’m very pleased.

“I should go.”

“Again, you’re trying to run off before the best part.” I smile at him. “Do you know what

the best part of staying the night is, boy?”

“No. I’ve never…”

“Waking up together and morning sex.”

Nic actually chuckles for me, face relaxing. “You didn’t have enough sex last night?”

“Oh, but morning sex is slow and lazy. We did not have slow and lazy sex last night.”

He shakes his head. “No. No, we had intense sex last night.”

“We did. It was amazing.” I was free with my punishments last night, but I’ll be just as

free with compliments if they’re earned.

He smiles, eyes closing again, getting heavy. I lean in and nuzzle him, rubbing my nose

along his cheek. That earns me a soft little hum, a gentle gasp. I lick where I’ve nuzzled, tasting

the flavor of his skin. Salty, sharp, male with the tiny rasp of stubble on my tongue—damn. I

could so get used to this.

Groaning, I lick again, shifting so my prick rubs along his thigh. He doesn’t say anything,

but he moans, leg sliding on me. This is as much seduction as the games we played last night;

I’m offering him the full package.

I want a promise of more. Another scene. Another night. I’ll take him one night at a time

until he finally admits that he’s mine. Until we’re so much a part of each other we can’t figure

out how to part.

I find his mouth with my own, keeping the kiss slow and lazy, letting it move our bodies.

His hands slide up along my arms, holding me close. I didn’t expect the connection, the touch. It

fills me with warmth, makes me want him even more.

Moaning softly, I deepen the kiss a little.

“Yeah.” He’s kissing me back, his fingers moving to comb through my hair.

I rub our legs together, pushing one of mine between his. He bears down, pressing his

balls against my thigh. Sweet, needy boy. He’s in a good mood in the morning. I’ll have to

remember that. It will make my own mornings better too.

I let myself touch him with long, slow swoops, adoring his skin. It’s like silk and his little

nipples two pebbles that immediately go hard for me. We rock together, his balls like heated

velvet.

I tug on his lower lip, teeth threatening but I keep the touch gentle. For now. This is less

about a scene and more about connection. Which, despite Nic’s best efforts, we have in spades.

I find his hip bone and rub circles on it with my thumb.

“Oh, that’s good.” He moans for me, pelvis rolling.

I keep touching, adding a sweep of my little finger along the edge of his buttocks. That

makes him wiggle against me, smile. Fuck, he’s a delight when he’s not pushing so hard.

“You’re so warm.” He sounds surprised.

“I’ve had you cuddled up next to me all night to keep me that way.”

Nic rolls his eyes. “I slept beautifully.”

“You do everything beautifully, Nic.” It’s one of the reasons why he gets away with so

much.

“I try.”

I chuckle at that. He spends a lot of time trying to do everything beautifully, I’m sure. I

want him to just do, though, not care whether or not he’s beautiful while doing it.

I slide my hand through his long, tangled hair, enjoying the early morning messiness.

“I bet I have bedhead.”

“You do.” I tug on his hair. “I want to wash it. Feel the silk all wet and soapy through my

fingers.”

“Oh.” Though he hasn’t said so, he clearly likes that idea.

“After we’ve made love.”

“I’d like that, very much.” Nic pushes up and kisses me, tongue pushing into my lips.

I grab hold of his tongue and suck, delighted that he’s throwing himself into this. Into us.

He’s not passive, not hanging back or fighting for dominance. No, he’s just wanting me.

I move my hand to stroke his belly, enjoying the flexing of his muscles. Amazing sounds

push into my mouth, Nic wanting me. I find his cock and trace it with my fingertips. He’s more

responsive than ever, and I rub a finger over his slit. He bites out a little sound.

I move on to his balls, rolling them gently in their sac. He spreads, hips pushing up in a

clear offer. I let my fingers slide behind his balls; he’s so hot here. The pinch I give him makes

him buck, jerking for me. I find his little hole, and it’s still slightly swollen from last night.

“I should have plugged you.” I can imagine having that to play with now, to take out so

he’s ready for me.

“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep.” It doesn’t feel like he’s pushing right now, just

being honest.

“No?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” I keep the question casual, playing idly with his hole.

“I’d just be squeezing it, over and over.”

The admission makes me chuckle. “You like being filled, do you?”

“Did I say that?” Those wide eyes don’t fool me.

“You did.” I push my finger into him.

“I don’t know about that…” He smiles at me, though.

“How else did I know?” I wriggle my finger.

“I…what?” His body grips me tightly.

“If you didn’t tell me, how did I know?” I smile down at him and push my finger deep

enough to nudge against his gland.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” His eyes cross, and he’s panting for me now. I’m not sure he

remembers what we’re even talking about.

“It’s because your body told me. It tells me lots of things.” I press into his gland again

and again.

“Lots of things.” He’s lost to it now, caught.

Bending, I kiss the top of his prick.

“Master…” He sighs the word, and I almost shoot from the pleasure there.

Humming, I kiss again, letting my tongue flick against his slit; he deserves the reward for

that one, sweet word.

He’s sensitive here, and I love filing that away. I’m learning so much about him, maybe

even more this morning than last night.

I push a second finger into him alongside the first.

“So good. Like heaven,” he murmurs the words, and they are like heaven to me.

I find his gland, wanting him to feel even better.

“Please. Please, don’t stop yet.”

Is it any wonder I wanted him to beg last night? He does it so prettily.

“I don’t plan to anytime soon, boy.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Please.”

So eager and needy. I love him like this. I love that I got him here. Oh, I’m not naive

enough to think he won’t be the same pushy bottom he was last night after we shower, but I’m

enjoying this while I have it.

I work his gland, driving him higher and higher. He cries out for me, rocks for me. I add

a third finger, and he grabs his knees, pulling himself open. Yes, for me.

I get the slick and use it before pushing three fingers into him, fucking him with them.

“Look at you, boy. So fine.”

I’m not sure he even hears me. It doesn’t matter, he feels me. I spread my fingers wide,

stretching him.

“Fuck…”

He jerks when I swat him. “Language, boy.”

I’ll curb him of this swearing habit of his. Eventually, he’ll only do it when he wants the

spanking.

“What? What?” He’s riding me hard, lips parted, focused on my fingers inside him.

I keep finger-fucking him watching his face in pleasure. “No swearing.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.” No brattiness, no complaints, just an honest response.

“Just don’t do it again. Or I’ll spank you again.”

“Uh-huh.” He’s not listening now.

I snort. He’ll pay attention the next time he swears, and I swat him again.

I add another finger, and he moans for me, pushing up on his elbows.

“That’s four, Nic.” I meet his eyes, see the need there so clearly he might as well be

speaking the words. “You want my whole hand.” My words are not a question.

He holds my gaze. “I never have.”

“You want it, though.” I keep looking at him as I move my fingers inside him. Four of

them, and he’s riding them like they’re nothing.

“I don’t know…” His head falls back, throat working, that sweet body driving harder.

“You do. You just need to stop thinking about it.” I push my fingers as deep as I can,

hitting his gland.

He almost leaves the mattress, feet kicking. I beam at him. That’s right, I’ve got his full

attention.

“Please! Please, help me!”

I tug my hand out and slick it up really well. “I won’t leave you hanging, Nic.”

He twists, sobbing softly, hands dragging over his own body.

“Pinch your nipples, boy. Let me see how much you need me.”

He doesn’t hesitate a second, tugging and torturing the tiny bits.

Once my hand is well lubed, I start pushing more of the slick into his hole. He’s wild,

bucking and rolling on the bed, calling out for me.

“Right here, Nic. I’m with you all the way.” I work three fingers back into him, using his

own motions to finger fuck him.

As soon as I’m back, he relaxes. How many Doms have left this man high and dry? He

pushes, and they back away, leaving him needing and wanting and refusing to show it.

I slowly work that fourth finger into him, stretching him.

“Oh, man…” He arches, hips rolling.

“Right here, Nic. I’m going to blow your mind.”

“Promise you won’t run away, after.”

God, the need in those softly spoken words speaks volumes.

“I’m not going anywhere, Nic.” It’s a promise. I tuck my thumb into my palm and begin

to push it in. “And you’re going to feel me for days.”

“Oh…” His head shakes, throat working.

“Nic. Breathe with me.”

He looks at me, eyes wide, letting me in.

“There you go.” We take several breaths together, and I start moving my hand into him.

“You…” He’s barely holding it together.

“You’ll never forget this,” I tell him. “Never forget me.” He won’t. I’m going to be

holding him in my hand. Then I’m going to make him come, and no one has ever done that for

him. And, if I can help it, no one else ever will.

I moan as I work my hand in as far as the widest part of it. He’s more open now than he’s

ever been and can see the edge of panic in his eyes.

I respond to it; he needs me to be strong here, to be the master I am. “I have you, Nic.

Trust me.”

This is the crucial moment. The moment when I’ll know if he will truly be mine.

Pulling in a gasping breath, his hands open and close. “I do. Please, don’t leave me like

this.”

“You know I won’t.”

I twist my hand a little, and while he’s catching his breath from that, I carefully push it

the rest of the way in until his body closes hard around my wrist. He’s flushed and panting,

hands opening and closing convulsively on the sheets.

He’s stunning like this and I draw it all in; I want to remember him like this—open and

vulnerable, exposed to me. Perfect and so present.

“My hand is inside you, Nic.”

“I’m…” Nic swallows convulsively.

“Right here with me, boy.” I wriggle my fingers inside him.

He gasps, and his body grips my fingers hard.

“Talk to me, boy.” I need him to stay present, stay with me.

“Full.”

“Full of me.” I pull out by a half-inch and push back in, fingers pressing up against his

gland.

He convulses and a short, sharp scream fills the air. Leaning in, I suck on the tip of his

cock as I move my hand inside him again.

His “Master!” wings out, fierce and needy.

Nodding, I pull him deeper into my mouth and push my fingers harder into him. He grabs

my arms, squeezes me tight. I tongue his slit, fingers curling and uncurling inside him

“Master. Master. Master, please.”

I pull off long enough to tell him, “You’re allowed to come.” Then I take him back

between my lips, sucking fiercely as my fingers touch his gland over and over.

Spunk fills my mouth, his sounds filling the air. I swallow him down, my hand curling

into a fist. His sweet prick just leaks and bobs, filling my mouth. Circling the head with my

tongue, I open my hand again, fingers stretched inside him; he holds me so fucking tightly.

I’m not going to leave you, sweet boy, I think, willing him to hear me. I’m in this for the

long haul, and he can push as hard as he wants; I’m not going anywhere.

A single tear escapes him, sliding down his cheek.

I clean his cock and grab the lube, slicking up my wrist. “Coming out now, Nic.”

“Don’t leave me…” The words are mere whispers.

“My hand needs to come out, but I’m not going anywhere.” I have no intention of leaving

him.

“Swear it?”

“I swear it, Nikolai.” I mean it.

“I’ll hold you…” He moans for me, his body holding me tightly.

“Every night, I hope.”

I feel his husky chuckle all around my hand. I reluctantly begin to work out of him. His

body clings to me, but I add more lube, slicking him and easing out.

I quickly grab a condom and work it on, using the excess lube on my hand to slick myself

up.

He’s moaning, restless, unfocused, but I know what he needs and as soon as I’m ready, I

slide between his legs, pressing against him. It’s like pushing into fire. Groaning, I sink all the

way down. All the way in.

“God, boy, you’re so good.” Tight and slick and perfect.

I don’t want to move because I don’t want to stop being inside him, but I can’t stay still

either, no matter how hard I try. My body is making demands I can’t refuse.

I begin moving. In and out, fucking him with long, slow motions. He’s melted for me,

easy and quiet underneath me. I keep thrusting, the pleasure building in my balls.

“You’re beautiful.” His words surprise me.

“Thank you.” My voice is rough, but my words are heartfelt.

His fingers trace my jaw, the touch feather light. I turn my head so I can take his fingers

into my mouth. I feel his well-fucked ass flutter around me. I keep sucking, even as I move,

pushing into him over and over. I want him so badly my balls ache, my entire body buzzing.

Again and again I push into him, his body gripping me hard.

“Soon, boy. Soon.”

He nods, grabs my ass, squeezes. I bury myself in his body and my gaze in his, letting the

pleasure take me over. I’ve never come so hard, so much, and it’s never been so good. I shudder

several times, the spunk pouring out of me until at last it’s over and I collapse onto him.

He holds me, lips on my temple.

“You’re amazing, boy.”

“I try to be.”

That makes me laugh.

His cheeks go pink. “What? I do.”

“I know.” I pull out reluctantly, get rid of the condom. “You are amazing, and then you

push hard and people forget you are amazing. They don’t realize that’s part of what makes you

amazing.”

“Is that English?”

“Brat.”

He’s adorable. Amazing in fact.

“Yeah, but you don’t hate that.” He’s learning me as I’m learning him, and that bodes

well for the future.

No. No, I don’t. “I don’t hate anything about you, Nic.”

“Yet.”

“Oh, I think you’ve worked very hard to make me hate you, and it hasn’t worked. So, go

ahead and keep pushing. I’m not going anywhere.” And I’m not going to let him run away from

this either.

“No? We have to. Someone will want the room.”

I blink at him for a moment, then start to laugh, the humor unexpected, but so very

welcome. He offers me a quick, wicked little grin.

“We have the room until eleven. So we have time for a shower together. And to make

plans.”

“Plans?” He’s so curious I can feel it pouring from him.

“For what we’re doing when we leave this room. I told you I’m not letting you go, and

you can’t push me away.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. I can. Yeah. Yes, Sir.”

I like the way that word sounds coming from him.

I cup his face, my thumb brushing his lips. I keep it easy, slow, and bring our mouths

together. He opens for me, tongue sliding against mine. This kiss is lazy, slow, intimate. Worth

it. Totally worth it.

I swat his ass. “Come on, boy. Let’s clean up.”

We have the whole rest of our lives to explore this.

I, for one, am looking forward to every second of it.

About the Author

Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker
of “Maurice”, Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd
collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by
horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean
whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the kama sutra by channeling
the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to Chicago.

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts
of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? He’ll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies
together to see if they spark.

Find Sean on the web at www.seanmichaelwrites.com

Also Available from

Resplendence Publishing

Plugs by Sean Michael

Sealed with a Kink Series, Book One

For a year, Blake has been working toward making love with his Master, Archer. You name it
they’ve done it, except for that one act. Tonight, the waiting is over. Blake is naked, prepared,
and waiting for his Master to take him.

When his Master arrives and finds Blake might have gone too far in preparing himself, though, a
punishment of six plugs is given before Blake can have what he so desperately wants.

Will the night end the way he’s been dreaming and bring Blake and Archer closer together, or
will one thing not lead to another?

Vanilla Licks by Kim Dare

Sun, Sea and Submission Series, Book Four

Situated just along the beach from Pendragon Bay Hotel, Vanilla Licks is the most popular ice
cream shop for miles. Its success is at least partly down to Darrell—the cute guy who works
behind the counter and flirts shamelessly with all the customers.

Fulton’s an experienced dom visiting the hotel to give a series of master classes on a whole host
of kinky topics. Fulton doesn’t flirt. On the rare occasions that he speaks at all, it’s to give
orders—which he expects to be obeyed. When Darrell catches his eye at the ice cream shop,
vanilla is the last flavor on either of their minds.

Darrell is very good at joking about not being vanilla, but can he deal with a dominant who takes
his BDSM seriously?

Running Hot by Megan Slayer

Track Domination Series, Book Two

All work and white-hot play makes this boss very, very happy.

Collin Marshall, owner of Flash Racing hadn’t planned on jumping back into the dating pool.
He’s been burned one too many times by guys only wanting his money and relative fame. But
even the boss gets the blues and there's one man he'd like to get to know a whole lot better--Sam
Richmond.

Sam Richmond loves his job at Flash. Chief mechanic for both truck teams is a sweet job.
Having Collin as eye candy? Even better. When a shipment of parts derails the team’s finishes at
Iowa, it’s up to Sam to work with Collin to find a solution. Spending time with Collin forces
Sam to see his boss in a new light--a sexy, dominant light.

Can these two continue running hot in and out of bed, or will their differences get the best of
them?

Cock and Balls by Mia Watts

Handcuffs and Lace

Presidential son and ballsy playboy Hank McClaren isn’t going to make his dad’s reelection
easy. He’s got something to prove and it’s all about exposing the man behind the presidency. Or
rather, that was the plan, until Secret Service agent Montegue is assigned to cover Hank’s detail.
Now, it’s all about melting Monty’s cocky resolve and making him sweat.

Montegue has worked hard to be the president’s number one security agent. Now the antics of
the president’s son have him demoted to babysitting duty. He’s not pleased. Especially since
Hank knows all the right ways to turn him on, and he’s finding it harder and harder to hold back.

But Hank has an ulterior motive, and Monty’s about to get caught in the cross-fire…

Love in La Terraza by Ethan Day

Cain Elliott is a desperate man. On the brink of losing La Terraza, the 1920’s Spanish style
courtyard apartment complex his grandmother left him in her will, he’s faced with the option of
selling to a real estate developer or losing the building outright, due to the costs of upkeep that
have now left him teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. One setback after another has slowly
whittled away any hope he’d been harboring to turn the tides. Having time for little else in life,
Cain’s guilt over his failure to protect the home of those who reside within the walls of La
Terraza has crippled his spirit.

On the partnership fast-track at the flashy architectural firm of Hamilton-Bach, Henry Abrams is
new in town, a little lonely and looking for inspiration. Tired of games and longing for
something real, Henry discovers the road to happiness could lie in the arms of the sad,
uncomplicated Cain Elliott.

Discovering that Hamilton-Bach represents the mysterious entrepreneur attempting to purchase
La Terraza, combined with the self-doubt and mistrust over a love that develops too fast, leave
both men struggling to decide whether or not they can truly find… Love in La Terraza.

The Pit Boss by Dakota Rebel

Derek Sikes has always had a nice, boring life complete with a normal office job and weekly
dinner at his parent's house. His brother was always the crazy, unreliable, wild child in the
family. So Derek isn't really surprised when his brother ends up engaged to a Las Vegas show
girl and begs him to come be the best man at the wedding.

Derek's plan of flying to Nevada, watching his brother make a huge mistake, and making it back
to work by Monday gets sidetracked when he meets a handsome pit boss named Joel his first
night in town. Falling harder and faster than he ever has before, Derek can't help but wonder
what's going to happen when he has to go home to his simple life in Nebraska. Because
unfortunately, what happens in Vegas usually stays in Vegas.

www.resplendencepublishing.com