I could see the red in his cheeks, the buzz from the alcohol giving his confidence a boost.
“Great! I’ll give you both my contact info,” Fenwick said with that perfect smile.
But I knew the thing that was important to him was happening right under my nose: His phone number was going into Luke’s phone and Luke’s phone number was going into his. All under the pretense of learning more about rigging.
It took everything in me to resist slamming Fenwick down on the bar and cuffing him right there. The rat was pawing at the cheese in the mousetrap, not entirely taking it, but not fondling it enough to trip the trap.
And that wasn’t just any cheese he was touching; it was my cheese.
My Luke.
Luke and I tumbled through the door of our brownstone, our lips pressed together in an elaborate dance.
“Fuck, I want you so bad, daddy,” he breathed when he pulled away.
I growled in response, turning all of my protective instincts for him into pure desire.
Pressing him against the wall just inside the entryway, I pressed my lips onto his large bulbous ones, sticking my tongue into his mouth to explore.
He did the same, desire thick in his body.
I moved my palm shakily down his face, along the side of his neck, and down to his shoulder.
Our bodies were chest to chest, and I moved my hands down Luke’s arms, then raised his hands and pressed them against the wall, pinning him there.
As our pelvises ground against each other's, I could feel the ridge of his erection rub against mine through our jeans.
“Oh…” he moaned, those beautiful bulbous rose-petal lips forming into an “o” shape.
“You like that, boy?” I asked, grinding a little harder against him.
It was hard to keep myself from moaning it felt so good.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew there should be something I was stressing about, something I was trying to figure out, but for now, all of that was filed away.
Now I was Dom Adam, and the only thing he was worried about was pleasing this beautiful little sub in front of him.
“You want more of this, boy?” I asked, looking into his wistful eyes.
“Yes, sir,” he said, his dark eyelashes flicking downward with his gaze.
“Kneel.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take off my boots.”
“Yes, sir.”
I freed him from the wall and watched as his eyes flicked up to mine. Then he slowly sank before me, not breaking eye contact the whole time.
I watched him kneel with delight, and the sensation of having complete control sizzled through me. My cock was so hard I thought it was going to explode out of my pants.
He got on his knees — making sure they were on the soft rug at the entryway — and lifted my right pant leg. Then he began plucking at the knots on my boot with his delicate fingers.
“Good boy,” I said, running my hand through his hair.
He looked back up at me, his blue eyes shining in the yellowish light. There was an unmistakable pleading in them that sent another surge of desire straight to my cock.
Once he’d undone the laces and pulled off my boots, I gave him a command to stack them in the rack next to the door.
“Now take off your shoes and do the same,” I said.
I watched as he obeyed me; every movement of his body guided by his submissive nature. It got me hot.
Once he placed them on the rack, I said, “Good boy.”
Luke looked up at me innocently, awaiting his next command.
“Go to the playroom and get it ready. I’ll be back down in ten minutes,” I said with the hard tone of command.
Luke nodded, then turned and disappeared into the door at the bottom of the stairs.
I tromped up the stairs into the kitchen, setting a timer for ten minutes on my phone. It was important for Luke to know precisely how long it would take until I was back by his side.
It was one of the things Dr. Brinkman suggested for him — to keep setting longer and longer intervals of how long I could leave him alone in the playroom. Apparently it would help Luke deepen his trust in me and overcome the trauma that his ex had put him through.
The anticipation of the delay was tingling through me, making me harder with each heartbeat. I got up to make some tea, keeping an eye on the timer.
Since Luke was such a perfect little submissive, I knew that the playroom would be absolutely flawless by the time I got there. He was so good at following directions…
Even if sometimes he talked back to me like a little brat.
The water finished boiling as the timer counted up. I poured it into two cups and put a packet of chamomile tea in each, watching as the yellow liquid unfurled into the water.
Leaving the two cups on the counter, I paced to the living room, then the bedroom, knowing that Luke could hear my footsteps from the playroom.
It would make the anticipation for what was about to happen even more delicious.
The timer was at the nine-minute mark, so I tromped over to the stairs, not bothering to lighten my tread.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I opened the door to the playroom and saw that the entire thing had been cleaned up. A blanket was folded and placed at the foot of the mattress, all the candles were lit, and various toys laid alongside the neatly-made bed.
My eyes flicked to the side of the room, where Luke was naked and in a child’s pose, indicating that he was ready for me.
I took a few steps forward, loving the control he was giving me. Walking close to the bed, I made a show of inspecting the sheets.
“Excellent work, slave,” I said, my voice hard and full of command. “Impeccable. There’s not a single wrinkle in these sheets. And these toys are perfectly spaced out and ready to go.”
My gaze lifted to naked Luke on the other side of
