Robin

Geoff was flying, and he wasn’t coming down anytime soon. Which thrilled me. I’d delivered exactly what he needed, if his teary babbling was any indication. I loved listening to it, loved knowing I’d given him the experience he’d been yearning for probably since he hit sexual maturity.

I basked in it, held him while he lay there, half-insensible. His tears had subsided, but he was still having a hard time making his body and brain connect again. I made him drink several times from the bottle of water I’d placed beside the bed, and he guzzled it as though its cool moisture was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

I was buzzed myself, drained and yet high from launching him into subspace and taking care of him in the aftermath. God, I’d missed this feeling. I’d known topping him was going to be a hell of a ride, but holy fuck we had some amazing chemistry in a scene. The connection I’d felt with him all evening, the way our energy had fed off one another, was just intense.

So different from that last year with Kyle, when all our scenes had ended with me feeling like I couldn’t give him what he needed. That, or with anger because I wouldn’t give him what he demanded.

When Geoff finally settled again, a dreamy smile on his face, I picked up the knife. Instantly, his gaze sharpened, and he gave me a questioning look.

“I’d suggest you keep very, very still,” I said gently, and with complete confidence. I was getting tired, but I needed to keep him in that place where he knew, no matter what I did, he was safe in my hands.

“Oh, God, no,” Geoff whispered, quivering.

“Shh.” I brushed a kiss over his lips. “Just let it go. It’s all on me now.”

The knife had been a really big gamble. We hadn’t negotiated something that edgy, and normally I wouldn’t have introduced it without a discussion first. But I’d spent all day trying to figure out ways of giving him the sense of being forced that he wanted, without resorting to manhandling him into compliance in ways that might be injurious. The knife was what I’d settled on.

There was psychological currency in using something that would specifically speak to the part of him that had such a . . . complicated . . . relationship with the concept of bleeding.

Which was what I wanted to investigate now that he was returning from orbit.

“How do you feel, knowing I’ve got a knife against your skin?” I asked mildly as I laid the flat of the knife flush against his skin and began to carefully pry the hardened globs of wax up. Once the edges were loosened, they often came up easily, courtesy of the oil. Thankfully, he had no chest hair to speak of.

I saw him come to the gradual realization that he was still safe, even with that knife scrape-scrape-scraping at his skin. The fretful expression that had crept in was replaced slowly by bliss, and he sank back into the mattress like all his bones had melted.

“I asked you a question, Geoff.” I didn’t want him checking out entirely again.

His pale lashes fluttered as he licked his lips and frowned. I was sure he was going to ask me to repeat the inquiry, but finally he murmured, “Strange. Afraid. Contradictory.”

I peeled a long stream off his abs, which twitched as the wax caught the fine, tiny hairs close to his navel. “Want to elaborate for me?”

“I know—” He swallowed and started again. “I know you won’t cut me. And I know if you do, it’ll be something minor. I’m infused, so it won’t be a problem. But—”

“But your lizard brain is still telling you you’re in danger of bleeding, and for you, the idea of bleeding has all sorts of baggage attached?”

He nodded slowly, licking his lips again.

“But that video you sent me. That sub bled. You want that.”

His lips curved. “People want to jump off bridges with just a bouncy cord keeping them from going splat. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare the piss out of them. Oh!”

I was below his navel now, where the hair was getting a bit denser. His startled exclamation was followed by a hiss, and something evil inside me loved that sound. I yanked the next blob of wax harder, grinning at him, and he whimpered and moaned, and his eyes started to look less focused again.

His skin twitched reflexively when the blade touched his groin next. He tensed, bracing himself for the next pull.

The nick was accidental, a minuscule zig when I should have zagged.

I wasn’t going to let him know that. I’d be damned if I let alarm and fear ruin this for him. I saw the nick register, saw his eyes fly open, but I didn’t react. I gathered up a bead of his blood on my fingertip and held it up for him to see.

“And now you’ve bled for me.” I kept my voice level, confident. He’d said he was infused and that minor cuts were no big deal, so that’s how I was going to handle it.

The expression that he rewarded me with was sublime. He stared at that crimson drop, transfixed, and it was like he’d never seen it before. In this context, as something he didn’t need to worry about, it was new.

I brought my finger to his lips, and his tongue snaked out to flick the bead away. He closed his eyes, and his hips bucked. His cock filled quickly, and he gave me a look of raw need. What was it about him that made me powerless not to respond?

I closed the knife with a snap and tossed it aside. Then I rolled him over, and my fingers were in his ass again, parting him. I hadn’t come yet, though I wasn’t sure he had realized that until now. I was still hard, sheathed in the condom, but I’d stopped fucking him so he could recover from that first orgasm.

He was going to feel fucking incredible around my dick. My nuts were pulled up so tight, so very close to climax, that just about anything could have pushed me over. He shifted restlessly, trying to urge me to do more, and that was no good. I wrapped my hand around his throat again.

“Don’t even think you call the shots here.” I nipped his earlobe firmly enough to be sure I’d leave a bruise. He moaned softly. I sawed my fingers in and out, fucking him harder, faster. “I’ve got the knife. I’ve got the hand on your throat.” I tightened my grasp minutely to emphasize that point. “I’ve got my fingers shoved up your ass, and if you even think of fighting, I will make you very sorry. This is my show. I’ve got the control, and you’re going to do exactly what you’re told.”

He still wasn’t a sub. I knew that. But he needed to know I had it under control, and I needed to give him that. He went passive beneath me, heavy and still, as if weights were dragging his limbs down, making him helpless and compliant. As if he’d been drugged.

“Yes,” he whispered, shivering.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes . . . sir.”

Fuck, that was nice. I hummed softly. “Good. Get up on your knees and spread your ass open for me.”

I drew my fingers out, and Geoff moved slowly, as if in a trance. He got his knees under him, pressed the side of his face into the pillow, and reached back, pulling his ass cheeks apart for me.

“Fucking whore.” He jumped as I spat directly on his asshole with a sharp, explosive sound. Muscle and wrinkled skin twitched at the impact, the spittle running down his taint and balls. I rubbed the head of my cock up and down, smearing it across his skin. “You want it, don’t you? Want me to stick my dick in you and fuck your brains out. Don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” His voice was tight, the back of his neck a deep red. When I reached beneath him, a bead of pre-cum dripped from his cock onto the towels.

“I think I’m going to enjoy that,” I said cheerfully, and pressed against his hole.

I didn’t rush, not even a little. Millimeter by painstaking millimeter, I breached him, mustering every shred of control I had to drag this out, when what I really wanted was to lay into him. I leaned forward and curled my hand around the front of his throat, and he melted, going slack before me. God, that was amazing. A moment later, I was buried balls-deep.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I grated.

Geoff damn near mewled. It was an effort to pick up my monologue again, to give him that edge of humiliation that would keep him out of his head and far from worrying about what was happening to his body. I could barely concentrate, spitting a stream-of-consciousness trickle of epithets and raunchy promises. They erupted from my lips each time I pushed deeper, harder.

“Jesus . . . For a whore you’re the tightest piece of ass I’ve ever . . . Fuck. Gonna go balls-deep . . . gonna pound the fuck outta you.”

“Yes.” He rocked to try to hurry me along. I wrenched back control, restraining him by tightening the hand around his throat again. “Please. Please . . .” he begged.

That pleading was too much. He was beyond dignity, beyond pride. He’d say anything he had to say to get me to give him what he needed, and fuck that was a heady feeling. I rolled my hips against him, our moans rising in unison, and gradually picked up the pace.

“Fuck . . . Oh, fuck, you bitch . . .” I grunted, slapping his ass with my pelvis. Beads of sweat dripped off my brow to splatter onto his back and buttocks.

“Oh God . . . Harder. Come on. Please,” he groaned, once again trying to rush me. Then his knee moved, a small shift in position that distributed his weight differently.

I went still, reaching past him to grab the knife.

Geoff froze.

“Who’s in charge here?” I demanded coldly.

He whimpered. “You—you are, sir!”

I laid the point of the knife between his shoulder blades, not quite firmly enough to prick, but enough to make him clench in fear that it might.

“Don’t fucking forget it again.”

I used the dull edge of the knife to trace random lines down his shoulders and spine, ignoring the tightening grip of his ass around my cock, watching for other cues from his body.

Another shift, and I knew it wasn’t impatience or greed but discomfort, seeking a different position. I felt his attention and energy being pulled away from me toward the problems with his joints like a sour note spoiling the heady symphony of emotion and sensation. The longer it persisted, the harder it would be for any of this to feel good for him.

I stopped moving, not dropping out of character entirely, but backing off enough to give him room to communicate freely. “Your knees are bothering you?”

I watched the resistance grip him and bleed away. I could have fist-pumped and shouted in celebration when, instead of denying it, he nodded against the pillow.

“Lie on your side,” I instructed, sternly enough to let him know that I still had this under my control as I guided him down. He sighed and stretched out with his back to me. That sigh told me a lot about how he felt regarding this concession to his physical limitations, but I wasn’t going to let that ruin the scene for us, not after we’d come so far. I slicked more lube on my cock, pressed against his back, and shoved into him roughly. When his moan had faded, I lightly grasped his throat once more and growled, “From now on, if you’ve got a problem and you don’t tell me right away, there will be consequences that will make sitting in a restaurant with a plug up your ass feel like a walk in the park. Got me?”

“Yes!” he gasped, clutching a handful of bedding.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, did you?” I taunted. I thrust my top arm between his thighs, lifting the upper one, spreading him open while supporting the weight of his leg so he didn’t have to.

“N-no!” Anything else he might have said was lost in the hard pace I set, hammering into him. I could tell by his yelps each time I nailed his prostate. I could feel him hanging on the edge.

“Your ass is still mine.” I scraped his shoulder with my teeth. Not a bite, no, but a threat. Menacing. I could bruise him or make him bleed. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop me.

But I also wanted him to know that I wouldn’t.

I think the message got through, because his groans and shouts became more desperate. My dick was so hard and tight it ached, driving into his clenching ass. His cock dripped, the fluid drying into tacky trails down his foreskin.

“What a slut.” I slammed into him over and over. “Threaten you with a knife, damn near choke you, and you’re still dying for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes!”

I rammed him hard enough to jolt his whole body.

“Yes, what?” I snarled in his ear. “Am I going to have to teach you some manners?”

“Yes, sir.” He sobbed, bordering on incoherent. He really was on the edge, but it didn’t look like he could come without being touched. Just a little bit to put him over the top. He hadn’t done it himself, though. Was he waiting for permission? Had it even occurred to him to finish himself off without it? “Please! Oh Jesus, please!”

“Jack yourself off. Do it now.” Another driving thrust. And another. “Show me what a whore you are, that you’ll come for the man fucking you, whether you want it or not.”

Practically sobbing with frustrated need, he unwrapped his fingers from where they’d twisted in the sheets, and located his rigid dick. I was right; a few strokes was all it took before he gave a ragged shout, hot cum spurting through the ring of his fist to splash onto the bed. It felt like lava was building up at the base of my spine, ready to surge along my nerves the moment I let go.

And I did. Lightning erupted behind my eyelids. My grip on his neck and thigh tightened, and I shuddered behind him, groaning.

When I could think again, Geoff was limp against me. With my sweaty brow resting on his back, my breath exploded against his skin in sharp huffs.

Awareness began creeping tangibly back into his body. I brushed a kiss on his shoulder, holding him. As I pressed close, Geoff’s tension began to bleed away.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I think so.”

He shivered.

“Stay right there.” He shook harder when I moved my body away from his. Wanting to get him warm and comfortable as soon as I could, I made quick work of getting rid of the towels and pulling the covers up over him. Then I held the bottle of water to his lips. “Here.”

“Sorry.” He gulped it down as I curled myself around him from behind. After a minute, his shivering subsided and his voice grew steadier. “I don’t know—”

“It’s okay.” I kissed his shoulder again. “Did I take it too far?”

“I don’t think so.” He closed his eyes and sighed, his expression blissful. “I just wasn’t expecting . . . It was intense. But I liked it.”

“Good.” Of their own volition, my fingers traced the curve of his shoulder and trailed down the length of his arm, like they couldn’t get enough contact with his skin. “Enough to want to do it again?”

“Right now?” He smirked over his shoulder.

“Tempting, but I don’t think I could manage yet.” I kissed the side of his neck. “If you’re interested, though, I’d like to keep going while you’re here. There’s a lot more ground we could cover.”

He laughed, a soft, self-conscious sound. I tucked my face against the back of his shoulder and took an emotional inventory of myself. Most of my interactions with him so far had been driven by instinct and impulse, by the signals I was reading from him. I needed to figure out what I was asking for, here. How deep was too deep to get involved, considering he’d be gone in a few days?

Right now we were both high. Probably not the best time to make any decisions. Geoff’s body was heavy with lassitude, but there was also tension in him, as though he was feeling echoes of my own doubts.

I squeezed him, trying to tell him it was all right. I knew exactly why he felt so adrift, and I didn’t want him to batter himself with his insecurities about how to behave or what came next. I didn’t want to see him retreat, and then in a day or a week go back to trolling for an unsafe facsimile of what we’d done.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, but I couldn’t stop his withdrawal as he sat up.

“Sure.”

“Rest.” I settled for rubbing his back. “It’s okay to be exhausted after that.”

He pushed himself up. I rose to help in case he was unsteady on his feet. Considering his medical issues, I didn’t want him taking a spill on my watch.

He moved gingerly and frowned as if confused.

“All right?” I asked, hoping I was striking the right balance between solicitude and stepping on that pride of his.

“Everything just feels . . . strange. I get why my skin’s sensitive, but why would my muscles— They don’t really ache, but I don’t want to move much right now?” He ended on a raised note, like he was asking a question rather than making a statement.

“Release of tension. Adrenaline. It’s all right. As long as you’re not in pain or distress?”

I watched him do his own inventory. “No. I’m okay.”

I considered it something of a victory that he leaned heavily on me as he shuffled to the bathroom. We brushed our teeth together. He took a moment to stare at the fading pink blotches all over his pale skin. He evicted me while he took a piss, but by then he seemed steadier. I remained right outside the door, just in case.

“I feel drugged,” he said muzzily when he emerged, wrapping himself around me. I blinked and had to check my surprise. I’d been worried that he was going to react badly once he finally felt more stable, but instead he just . . . went with it.

I hugged him back, engulfing him as best I was able, and kissed his temple. God, I’d missed this part of being in the scene. I’d missed taking a guy to a place where macho posturing and pride had no relevance, where he wasn’t ashamed to require comfort and support.

Maybe Geoff, more than most men I’d met, needed that.

I chuckled. “You pretty much are. I should have realized; you haven’t really researched this at all, have you?” He shook his head as I slid an arm around his waist and escorted him back to his room. “Shit. I should have stopped to explain it a bit more.”

His voice was an indistinct slur. “Didn’t want to stop.”

I tucked the covers around him again after he crawled back into bed, and located the spare blanket to lay over him from the bottom drawer of the dresser. I slipped under the bedding to draw him against my chest. He was still shivering.

“Tomorrow, do some research,” I urged, breathing into his rumpled hair. “Especially about the effects of pain endorphins. That adrenaline rush from the fear play probably isn’t helping, either.”

“’Kay.”

I pulled away to reach for the water bottle, and by the time I rolled back over, his breathing was already evening out. I didn’t have the heart to wake him and push more water on him.

Instead, I settled in beside him and smiled, then let myself drift away.