Authors: A.R. Barley
Chapter Ten
Ian’s dark complexion almost hid the rosy blush on his cheeks. Either the dominant was less of a badass than he liked to pretend or he was out of practice. Kelly would bet money it was the latter. There weren’t a lot of clubs in the area that catered to those whose tastes were less vanilla and more double fudge brownie.
“Good boy.” His gaze was open and hungry. His mouth was open, like he was tasting the air. He was still fully dressed except for his jacket. His ruby-red T-shirt skimmed his broad shoulders and warmed his complexion while dark jeans clung to muscular thighs. He took a long sip of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
Kelly couldn’t drag his gaze away. A small whimper flooded the room. It took him a moment to realize the noise had come from him. He wanted to lick his way across that muscular body, losing himself in the taste of skin and the musk of sex.
But that didn’t stop his heart from fluttering anxiously when Ian walked out of sight, moving around behind Kelly’s back. The ugly green carpeting muted his booted footsteps, but it couldn’t hide the clink of a glass being left on the coffee table or a distinct rustle of cloth.
Was Ian taking off his shirt? Drawing that soft red cotton up over his shoulders to reveal acres of dark skin and the six-pack abs he’d been teasing Kelly with all afternoon.
Or, was he removing his pants to show his growing erection? Kelly hadn’t seen Ian’s cock yet, but he’d felt it. He knew it was bigger than his own, thicker. It would feel like heaven in his ass or his mouth.
His head twitched. He wanted to turn around, to drink in Ian’s body. He needed to see—
“Don’t move,” Ian said. Long fingers reached out to twist in Kelly’s hair, holding his head firmly in place, while his other hand moved to rest gently on his shoulder.
“I want to see you.”
“Not until I give you permission.”
“Please—”
“Do you trust me?”
Trust? Kelly barely knew Ian, but he liked what he’d seen so far. He nodded slowly. His gaze never shifted. He never turned. He just waited to find out what was going to happen next.
Fingers trailed across his spine. “Now, we’re going to talk about your punishment.”
“A spanking,” Kelly murmured happily. He wanted to feel the heat of Ian’s hand against his skin, warming him up with a soft slap before putting some muscle behind it. He’d have to work all night with his jeans rubbing against sore skin, and he’d wake up in the morning with bruises in the shape of Ian’s hand. His body shivered happily in anticipation.
“When you clearly want it so badly?” Ian chuckled. His breath was hot against the delicate skin at the back of Kelly’s neck. His grip never loosened in Kelly’s hair. “Now, I believe in letting the punishment fit the crime. You told me you didn’t have any limits. You didn’t know better, but it was still a lie.” His lips grazed Kelly’s skin with every word, nuzzling against him. “So, I’m going to show you one of the limits you could have set.”
There was a short pause where the only thing in the small apartment was silence and then...
Strong teeth chomped down at the base of his neck, quick and hard. Pain ripped through his body as Kelly flinched in shock and surprise, but there was no escaping, not with Ian’s fingers still curled tight in his hair and his other hand still firm against his shoulder.
Fuck. Adrenaline seared its way through Kelly’s veins as panic and desire warred inside him. It wasn’t just the pain—although there was a lot of pain—it was something primal and electrifying. Fear. Vulnerability. He wanted to twist away, to bend forward and throw his hands up over his neck, but he couldn’t move away from the reassuring hand on his back.
When Ian finally pulled away, Kelly was still panting hard, dragging air down into his lungs.
“Biting.” Ian’s hands dropped away. He moved back to where he’d left his supplies on the coffee table. “Did you like it?”
“Hell, no.” Kelly’s hands curled into fists. He wanted to turn around and tear into the other man, but at the same time...there was something about the throbbing sensation coming from his freshly bitten flesh.
He’d have a bruise in a few hours, black and purple and violent. If he wore a collared shirt then the cloth would rub against the bruise, reminding him of Ian’s punishment with every breath he took, but if he wore a regular T-shirt then everyone would be able to see the mark.
Oh, damn. His cock was like an iron bar protruding from his body. His breath was coming even faster now.
“Is it a limit?” Ian asked, reminding him of their earlier discussion.
“No,” Kelly yelped. His spine straightened, sending a secondary jolt of pain through his central nervous system. His nails dug into his palms. His voice shook. “I mean, no, it’s not a limit.” The bite hurt like a son of a bitch, but there had been something
intimate
about it. “I don’t think.”
There was a slight pause then a warm laugh. “Good to hear.”
The rustling sound came again, closer this time. Supple fabric stroked up and down Kelly’s spine, making every hair stand on end. Leather and silk. Cuffs? But then darkness dropped over Kelly’s eyes as the fabric was moved into place. A blindfold.
“Please—”
“I need you to trust me...at least for the next twenty minutes. The blindfold makes you focus. It heightens sensations. Can I leave it in place?”
“Okay,” Kelly murmured as the blindfold tightened against his face and Ian tied it firmly in place. He hadn’t been able to see anything anyway—not with Ian walking around behind him—but still, it felt odd not to have the ugly kitchen countertops to focus on.
The scent of leather filled the air and carpet fibers rubbed harshly against his knees.
“You look so good like that,” Ian said. “Naked and waiting. You don’t know if you’re going to be pushed down and fucked or brought over my knee. I could jack off right here, looking at you, and you wouldn’t even know it until I came all over your pretty face.”
Kelly let out an eager whimper.
“Oh, you like that idea. You like knowing how hard you make me.” There was a soft chuckle. “Should I do it? Or, should I—”
“Let me suck you,” Kelly said, only remembering at the last second that he probably shouldn’t interrupt. “Please.”
“Mouthy brat.” Ian chuckled. “Luckily, your mouth is one of the things I like about you.” He must have taken off his boots somewhere along the line, because when a callused finger reached out to stroke Kelly’s lips it was a complete surprise. “You’ve been offering me a blow job since we met. Is it just to make me happy? Or do you have a bit of an oral fixation?”
“Neither? Both?” Kelly’s lips parted and he sucked on the finger, drawing it deep into his mouth, sucking it like a hard cock. Damn, it felt good, but he needed more. He needed to hear Ian throb and moan, to know he was almost ready to come and Kelly had taken him there. “Please.”
“Good boy.” Ian drew his hand away. “This type of relationship works best if you can ask for what you want.”
The rich scent of Ian’s desire reached Kelly first, making him salivate eagerly. He wanted to drown himself in that leathery musk, but then new pressure was placed against his lips and he opened his mouth to take the hard erection inside.
Fuck. Kelly didn’t need to see Ian’s cock to know it was beautiful, stretching his lips and filling his mouth. He sucked hard, shifting further forward onto his knees to bury his nose in a thatch of rough curls.
Deep throating wasn’t in his skillset, but he’d never had any complaints. His hand reached up unbidden to wrap around the base of Ian’s cock and he hollowed out his cheeks, providing more suction.
“Fuck.” Ian groaned, his hips bucking eagerly. His hands came down to rest on Kelly’s shoulders, steadying and supporting him. His fingertips skimmed across the fresh bite at the base of his neck. Damn, it stung. His throat muscles contorted as he whimpered in response. Ian chuckled. “Easy.” The grip on his shoulders relaxed. “You weren’t kidding. You’re damn good at that.”
“Hmm...” Kelly thrummed in agreement, knowing the sound would make his muscles contract and smiling when Ian gasped in response.
His head bobbed up and down, his lips sliding on the thick erection like a fireman on a well-greased pole. Every few strokes he’d pause just long enough to swipe his tongue across the fat head, tasting salt and sweat.
Desire bubbled deep inside him. Kelly’s own hips thrust forward, searching greedily for some form of friction, but he knew without asking that he wasn’t allowed to touch himself. Fuck, he wanted that...almost as much as he wanted to be able to look up at Ian’s face and see those silver eyes dark with arousal.
But with the blindfold still bound tight around his face, he had to make do with the happy noises his lover was making.
“Hell.” Ian’s hips thrust faster, losing their elegant rhythm. His breath was fast and furious.
Just a few more seconds...just...
“Enough.” Ian broke away, pulling back with a sharp jerk.
Kelly’s jaw ached, his cheeks were sore, his knees were killing him and he wanted more. “I almost had you. Another minute and—”
“That’s not the point.” Ian’s voice was rough with heat and desire. “We’re not finished yet. I don’t want to come until we do.”
And what the hell was that supposed to mean? Kelly was about to open his mouth and demand answers when air shifted and Ian’s body lowered to the ground in front of him. They were kneeling face-to-face now, close enough to touch, close enough to—
“You blush all over, don’t you?” Ian said. “Such a pretty color. Like roses in July. I have half a mind to tie you to my bed and keep you this way forever. Of course, the university would probably frown on that.”
Ian tweaked his nipples, making him shudder under the rough touch. The sharp burst of sensation sent a zing straight to his dick and made him gasp in surprise. Ian laughed. “I did promise you a kiss.”
Firm lips pressed hard against his mouth, taking him in a bruising kiss. He tasted like sin and desire. Like all the dirty little secrets Kelly had ever whispered into the darkness, never hoping to get any response.
Fingers came up to cup his jaw, sending tiny shudders through his body as Ian’s other hand came to rest against the bite mark he’d left hours—or had it only been minutes?—earlier.
Wave after wave of sensation broke over Kelly as pleasure mixed with pain. The stillness he usually only found with a hard smack to the ass or a shove against the wall filled him completely.
The last thing he heard before he completely lost control was the familiar
snick
of a bottle opening and then a well-lubed hand fisting their erections together. Ian jerked them off in long even motions. A moment later they were both coming, creamy eruptions coating their bodies and leaving them both sticky.
All Kelly could do was hum his satisfaction as Ian removed the blindfold and helped him up onto the nearby couch.
Chapter Eleven
Ian could sense when Kelly stopped soaring and came tumbling back to earth. The peaceful expression on those swollen lips fell away and his head jerked around like he wasn’t quite sure of his surroundings. He looked stunned, unsure and completely vulnerable.
Like a puppy who’d just taken his first steps in a new world.
Ian wanted to wrap his arms around Kelly and draw him in close. Instead, he handed him the cup he’d gotten earlier. “Here.” The ice had kept it cool while they were playing. “Drink this.”
“I—of course.” Kelly blinked twice before doing as he was told. With the heat of the scene still staining his skin he was more than happy to take Ian’s direction. “Thank you, that was—” His brow furrowed slightly.
A frown crossed his face and he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, flinching when he connected with the bite marks. Cool water slopped back against his skin and he let out a yelp.
“You’re going to need to be careful with that for the next few days,” Ian said. He’d apologize for biting down so hard, but he didn’t feel sorry at all...not when it would mark Kelly as his for as long as the bruises lasted.
And when they disappeared? He’d do it all over again. He’d do anything to prove to the world that Kelly belonged to him—to protect him from other men’s prying eyes. Kelly was so sweet, so eager, if a real player had found him first—not just an asshole in a nightclub but a dominant with a taste for bloodsports and needles? Anything could have happened. The thought curled around Ian’s heart like an icy fist. It wouldn’t happen. Not if he had to mark Kelly with a bite...or a collar...or a tattoo on his ass with Ian’s name and number.
Whatever it took to keep him safe.
When was the last time he’d felt so possessive? Never. It should put him on edge, but instead he just let the knowledge roll over him as he stepped away to pull on the hunter-green boxers he’d discarded on the floor.
“How do you feel?”
“I—” Brilliant blue eyes wavered. Strong white teeth dug into his full bottom lip. “I’m not sure.”
Not exactly the response he’d been going for. “What aren’t you sure about?”
“Why did I respond that way? I’ve never—I mean—I’ve always needed more than that to get where I’m going. You know? It wasn’t very rough.”
“I don’t know about that,” Ian said. “Letting me put the blindfold on you? Trusting that I’m not going to knock you around or bring a dozen other guys into the scene? I’d call that intense. Especially after what happened to you at Ale Mary’s.”
“Don’t remind me.” There was a long pause. “People really do that sort of thing when they’ve got a guy in a blindfold? Bring in a bunch of other men?”
“I saw it once at a club.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. The sub was a friend of mine.” David with his dark brown eyes, impish smile and apple-shaped ass. The pretty fool Ian had thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Back when he’d thought that life would be spent in California.
They’d had an open relationship—David had been welcome to see other men—but it had been Ian he’d always come home to at night. It had been Ian who had driven him to the edge over and over again with the sting of the paddle and the bite of the whip. Then one afternoon he’d walked through the door of their favorite club and seen him up on the stage with another dominant.
It had felt like a knife to the gut. He hadn’t been enough, and he hadn’t been able to keep David safe. His lover had gone looking for riskier and riskier scenes. When he’d seen him on the stage with all those men behind him, his heart had seized.
“I waited for him to safe-word out. He didn’t, so I left.” It had taken everything he had to walk away, but it hadn’t been enough. “It wasn’t my scene.”
If he’d been a good man—the kind of man Kelly thought he was—he’d have gone back. Instead, he’d gone home and started looking for jobs anywhere else. Luckily, Halston had been taking applications.
“I’m pretty sure that’s one of my limits,” Kelly said slowly. He glanced down at himself, blinking in surprise when he realized he was still naked on the couch. His blush tinged his skin, starting at his cheeks and spreading to his broad chest. “You got someplace I can clean up? I don’t exactly want to throw my clothes back on over the mess.”
“Right through the bedroom,” Ian said. “You’ve got to hit the handle a couple of times to switch it over to shower, but it works eventually.”
“Fuck, this place is the pits.” Kelly took his clothes into the other room. There was a loud banging noise followed by the sound of pipes rattling and the shower turning on.
By the time Kelly got out, Ian was fully dressed and cooking dinner. “Spaghetti and meatballs,” he said. “The spaghetti’s from a box, but the sauce is homemade.”
“Sounds delicious.” Kelly was drying his head with a towel. “You don’t have any shampoo.”
“I don’t have any hair.”
“Makes sense. I’ll bring some over next time.”
So, there would be a next time after all. Good to know. Ian picked the pot of spaghetti off the stove and dumped it into the colander he’d put in the sink. Hot water singed his fingers and he flicked on the cold-water tap. The pipes sputtered but nothing happened.
“You’ve got to talk to your landlord.”
“Yeah.” Ian laughed. “Right.” The pipes would get fixed the week after the carpet was replaced and he moved back to the City of Angels. “You’re from Halston. You’ve seriously never been inside these apartments before?”
“You think this place is bad now, you should have seen it before the university expanded.” Kelly sat at the kitchen table, smiling happily when a plate of spaghetti landed in front of him. He dug in, relishing it like he hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in years. “My mom wouldn’t have let me inside this place with a ten-foot pole. Of course—” his expression turned thoughtful “—I think this is where my dad’s friends had their poker games.”
It was the first mention Kelly had made of his parents. Ian waited a beat to see if he would continue. Nothing. Ian sat across the table and tucked into his own plate of spaghetti. It was pretty good. “The rent’s cheap. Until I make tenure this place is the best I can afford, and even then I’ll be paying off student loans until the day I die.”
“Just be glad you don’t have a mortgage.”
Ian chuckled. He didn’t want a mortgage—he probably couldn’t get one with his credit rating—but it would be nice to have a house to call his own, someplace near the university with hardwood floors and leaded glass windows.
Of course, between his student loans and all the money he’d given to Andrew, that wouldn’t happen unless he won the lottery.
Halston University had been making major investments in their programs for almost ten years, hiring new professors and drawing in students from all over the country. They’d rebuilt their economics department from the ground up, going from middle of the pack to one of the best in the country, and word around the water cooler was that the English and engineering departments had received comparable overhauls. It lent a certain amount of prestige to winning a coveted tenure track position at the university, but it also meant decent houses were at a premium in a town that hadn’t expanded at the same rate as its major employer.
Maybe if he stayed on long enough, he could get a little place with a real kitchen and a yard, somewhere he could get a dog—not a tiny scrap of a thing like the puppy he’d seen outside Kelly’s dorm but a big shepherd he could take running—and build a life. He had a hard time picturing what it might look like. If he scraped his pennies together long enough, he might be able to afford a single-story ranch the next town over, but it was easy enough to imagine a cream-colored bedroom with a king-size bed and Kelly naked, sprawled out across a forest-green comforter.
Fuck. He sucked in a deep breath. He was getting ahead of himself. This was barely their second date. Kelly hadn’t even graduated yet. Still, he could almost imagine walking through the front door, calling out “Honey, I’m home.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips quickly to Kelly’s, stealing a kiss between bites of pasta. The taste of sauce filled his mouth along with a minty hint of toothpaste and the sweet flavor he was beginning to think was all Kelly. It was nothing like the powerful kiss they’d shared in the living room—a violent showing of dominance and ownership—but it still managed to fill Ian with quiet wonder.
“What was that for?”
“No reason.”
The skin between Kelly’s bright blue eyes crinkled slightly, making him look years older. It looked like he was about to say something, but he couldn’t find the words.
Ian was still dreaming about some unknown future an hour later when he dropped Kelly back off at North Dorm. They shared another searing—soul-binding—kiss in the parking lot before the RA headed off to work and Ian drove home to his quiet apartment.
For the first time since he’d moved in, he felt sorry he hadn’t looked for another group living situation like he’d had in Los Angeles. At least if he had a roommate there’d be someone to help fill the silence and share a beer with. Instead, he got a beer and sat on the couch to watch a movie. It felt fucking lonely.
Then the texts started rolling in.
The first one didn’t have any words, just a smiley face.
Next came a quick anecdote about a backed-up toilet somewhere on campus then a picture of a confiscated six-pack. Ian stopped paying attention to the movie—some romantic comedy starring Julia Roberts—and started texting back.
I thought you just helped kids who lost their keys.
ROFLMAO
, Kelly texted back.
Monday through Thursday. Friday’s something else entirely.
Animal, vegetable or mineral.
Apocalypse.
There was a thirty-minute pause before the next text, but after that they came in steady bursts for the rest of the night and two things became abundantly clear. First, being a college RA on a Friday night was like being a cross between an apartment manager, a cop and a cruise director; second, Kelly was damn good at his job. He seemed to handle every new catastrophe with the same good humor and quiet efficiency. Whether it was a problem with the plumbing or a laptop theft in one of the lounges, he always knew exactly what to do.
When Kelly finally sent his last message of the night from the local emergency room—where he was holding the hand of a sophomore who’d jumped off a third-story balcony and landed poorly—Ian was more than just impressed. He was damn proud.
Kelly might be a submissive in the bedroom, but out in the world he was strong and competent. Any man would be lucky to have him as a partner.
That is...if Ian ever decided to let him go.