Authors: SE Jakes
He looked over quickly at Derek, whose eyes were still closed, his big body relaxed, but his cock definitely hard. Glen’s own had been that way since Derek touched him. He could still feel the man’s hand on his neck even though he’d let go fifteen minutes ago.
How was this man getting home from his place? Where did he even live?
Glen found himself driving more carefully than normal, as if wanting to keep Derek from being jostled. He finally pulled into his driveway and then the garage, letting the door close behind him.
Derek got out immediately, and Glen found the man opening the driver’s-side door and helping him out. And Glen fucking blushed at that.
Derek most definitely noticed, gave a little twist of a grin, and Glen felt himself blush harder as he got out of the car and let Derek lead him toward his own house.
“It’s okay,” Derek murmured and somehow, with the Dom saying that, it was. At least for the moment. What happened once the door opened and Glen let him in, he wasn’t sure at all.
Chapter Two
Glen’s place was done in browns and beiges and blues—clean and calming, with comfortable-looking furniture and a modern kitchen that looked like it was barely used.
With red still staining his cheeks, Glen locked the door behind them and pressed buttons on the buzzing alarms.
“Can I get you anything?” Glen asked as he toed his shoes off.
“Water would be fine.”
Glen grabbed a bottle from the fridge, took the time to pour it in a glass with ice, and Derek couldn’t tell if it was manners or the man stalling or a combination. When Glen handed it to him, Derek took a sip and then asked, “What do you need from me, Glen?”
The boy shot him a look, the surprise obvious, and that was good. He was up to this.
“I, ah…fuck.” Glen pressed a palm to his forehead. “I don’t know. I like to be tied down. Hard. But—”
It was too soon—Derek would need to earn that trust. Coming into the club tonight had drained Glen, and it was up to Derek to make sure he didn’t fall apart sooner than he was ready to. “Why don’t you let me decide?”
“What if I can’t do what you want?”
“It won’t be more than you can take. It won’t be a scene. You’ll get what you need.”
It took a few minutes for him to nod yes. Derek sat in one of the leather chairs, glass in hand. “Strip for me.”
Glen barely hesitated, then stripped his shirt and his jeans, a defiant look in his eyes.
He wouldn’t go down on his knees into position—and Derek wasn’t going to make him. Not to prove a point, anyway. Instead, he took the time to appreciate Glen’s sculpted, lean body, the thick, jutting cock belying any protests the boy might make. He spread his own legs and let Glen’s eyes roam his body—there was no missing the swell of his cock through his pants, despite the tight leather. “Like what you see?”
Glen nodded slowly, began to stroke himself without breaking Derek’s gaze. Derek finished his water, put the glass down and walked to the boy, not telling him to stop his stroking.
“Beautiful.” He ran a hand over the tattoos that covered him, not surprised when Glen reached out with his free hand and pulled him in for a kiss. Glen’s hand wound in his hair, holding him closer, definitely taking charge, and Derek allowed it, because the boy knew how to kiss. Glen tasted like heat and sin. And then Derek changed the rhythm when he put his hand on the back of Glen’s neck and began fucking his mouth with his tongue, taking back all the control, and Glen opened his mouth wider, acquiescing.
Glen would enjoy submitting far more than he was willing to admit. The boy would have to have nerves of steel to fly combat missions—it took equal strength to submit. Glen was a tough-ass son of a bitch. Just what Derek wanted, someone to push back, to challenge him. He wanted that spark, the fight, which made working for the submission that much more satisfying.
When Derek pulled back, he asked, “You want to keep trying to scare me away by being defiant or are you going to let me take over now and fuck that tight ass any way I want to?”
Glen drew in a stuttered breath and his body trembled. “I haven’t…submitted—or bottomed—in a long time.”
“Since John?”
“A year after John died, I tried but…” He was holding it together well but he seemed horrified at the small amount of emotion he was showing. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
“Because you need to.” Derek stroked his biceps, still tasting the man on his tongue. “Show me where your bed is.”
Glen did, and Derek followed him into the bedroom with the king-sized bed covered in a gray comforter and a headboard definitely meant for tying someone up to.
Derek could give Glen the same effect just as well with a command. He pushed the younger man into bed after pulling the covers down, and Glen sat against the pillows, looking uncertain.
Derek stripped his own shirt and knelt between Glen’s legs. The boy looked confused when Derek stroked him and then licked a path along his abs and inner thighs.
“Derek?”
“Yes, Glen.”
“I thought…”
“Don’t think.” With that, he took Glen’s cock deep in his mouth, sucking hard, loving the way the boy’s body arched in surprise.
Derek’s mouth was hot and wet, sucking him in while Glen watched.
There was never any doubt during the entire experience that Derek was in charge.
All he had to do was let Glen’s cock slip from his mouth and say, “Raise your arms above your head and don’t move them until I tell you that you can.”
Glen complied. It was a small step back that left him wanting for more, which was surely part of Derek’s plan. And then Derek began playing with his cock, his balls, spread Glen’s legs where he wanted them, with the unspoken command that Glen was to leave them where Derek positioned them.
“You must look beautiful all tied up,” Derek said finally. “The things I’d do to you…”
“What?” Glen gasped out, because Derek was pressing a finger along his perineum while stroking his cock.
“Don’t come,” Derek warned, and God, that would be hard as hell, but he could do it. “I’d tie you so tightly you couldn’t move. I’d use nipple clamps on you, because you love them. Don’t you, beautiful baby?”
He did. Nodded and closed his eyes for a second, because just looking at the handsome man waiting calmly between his legs could take him over the edge.
“I know you want to be fucked tonight…but you’re not in charge here. I think you’ve already accepted that.”
“Please,” he heard himself whimper, knew that wasn’t always permitted, but there was encouragement in Derek’s eyes. He wanted more, wanted to know how Glen was feeling, and Glen let him know in no uncertain terms when Derek stroked his cock, long, hard strokes, just the way he liked it. Heard himself yelling his head off, because screw his inhibitions and his neighbors.
Getting his cock sucked was an unexpected turn of events and he was reveling in it.
Derek was spreading him, then fingering his ass while using his tongue to delve into Glen’s piss slit, which made him jump practically to the goddamned ceiling. Only Derek’s strong arms kept him in place firmly on the mattress and Glen allowed himself to close his eyes and get lost in the sensations. When Derek told him to come, Glen didn’t hesitate, the orgasm long and drawn-out and so goddamned satisfying.
You’re perfectly safe.
Maybe Derek even murmured that to him. It wouldn’t be the first time a Dom since John had, but Glen finally believed it.
But he was so drained and sleepy, wondered what Derek would do next. Steeled himself for it, even.
The man simply pulled Glen to his chest and said, “Sleep.”
And for the first time in a long time in bed, Glen did as he was told.
Chapter Three
What Glen had needed was a blowjob and sleep, which was what he got. When he woke, he was alone and he wondered if it was a dream. Why the Dom didn’t demand more. And how he’d gotten home, because Glen should’ve at least been the one to call him a cab.
Glen wanted to think less of the man for it but knew he couldn’t. John hadn’t held back their first nights together because he’d known that was what Glen had needed. Derek had held back for the same reason. He’d had Glen’s submission last night, even thought Glen hadn’t thought himself ready or willing to give it.
He stared at the ceiling, knowing the day would pass too damned slowly for him. He’d go back to the club tonight, his last night of leave for a while, because after that he needed to be mission ready. The SEAL team he flew was hunkered down on base and preparing. He would join in, along with his copilot, once they had their shit together.
He’d train the way they did. In order to back them up, he’d come up with several different plans if things went to shit. Which they always seemed to do at the last minute. But Glen was good at his job—he’d run the scenarios a million different ways until he was satisfied he could get all the men out safely.
But tonight was all his.
His cell vibrated.
Clint.
The man had known Glen had plans to go to the bar last night, and he was no doubt checking up.
“How’d it go? Did you get laid?” Clint asked.
“Jesus, Clint.”
“What? Isn’t that what you were looking for?”
“Maybe.”
“Give me his name.”
“I’m not letting you run a sheet on him.”
“Yeah, you are.”
He gave the name, then said, “I’m thinking former military. If I had to guess, Marine.”
“Guy’s a Marine,” Clint confirmed.
“So you know him.”
“I’ve never fucked him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You’re both Doms, so I pretty much assumed that,” Glen said.
“You want details, don’t you?”
“Why do you make me pull everything out of you?” Glen had no doubt Clint had already gotten information on Derek.
“More fun that way,” Clint said with a laugh, and his next words confirmed Glen’s suspicions that Clint had checked up on Derek already. “Okay, here’s what my buddy told me about him.”
Clint launched into a few things Derek was into, nothing out of the ordinary, but Glen tucked away several pieces of information that could be very helpful in the future when he wanted to please his Dom.
His Dom. Your Dom.
He felt a little dizzy at those words.
“Hey, you still there?” Clint asked.
“Yeah. Just a little…freaked out.”
“Guess you like him, then.”
“Maybe.”
“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”
Clint’s wasn’t an empty promise. Glen muttered something about overbearing CIA guys and said, “Gotta run.”
He meant it literally. Had to get the energy out so he wouldn’t be a mess. Clint just snorted and told him to keep in touch before he hung up.
A long run, a longer shower, complete with jacking off helped to take a little of the edge off, but it wasn’t enough. Derek probably expected him to be nervous, but Glen hated being off his game this way.
The Dom hadn’t left a number or a note, but the care the man had taken with him… It had been a long time since someone cared. And as stupid as it sounded, as fast as it had happened, Glen knew he wasn’t wrong.
Now he just had to decide how far he was going to let things go, how ready he was to really let someone else in beyond a quick fuck.
“How’d it go?” James asked when Derek settled in next to him at the bar and ordered a beer on tap.
“If he comes back, I guess it went well.” Derek ran a hand through his hair and played with the beer glass instead of actually drinking. Sounded calmer than he felt. “He and John must’ve been something together.”
“They never did public scenes but yeah, they were good for each other,” James acknowledged. “John had a few different subs, but he was closest with Glen. Even when the boy enlisted, they stayed together.”
Derek tucked than information away, since it differed slightly from what Glen had told him.
James continued, “Big age difference, though. Glen was twenty-two when John died. John was forty-seven when the emphysema killed him.”
Derek was thirty-seven. He’d never liked the young ones. Glen was a perfect age. A perfect fuck. And so much more…
Which meant the whole damned thing would blow up in his face.
“He tried once before, you know,” James said. “With Mark.”
Derek was familiar with Mark. The man used pain for pain’s sake, liked his whips and blood play, and God, that must’ve been a massive miscalculation on Glen’s part. Because, although the boy had a wild streak a mile wide, he didn’t need to be beaten in order to be tamed. Just the opposite—he needed gentling.
Derek had recognized it immediately. Glen would bolt if ridden too hard right now. He needed complete safety—that’s what he got off on. From there, it would be one of the wildest rides ever.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous.” James tapped Derek’s beer and Derek downed half of it.
“That obvious?”
“Probably only to me.” James smiled, and then nodded toward the front door.
His heart beating wildly, Derek watched Glen walk in, the same thing happening as last night, with men greeting him, although several of the Doms glanced back toward Derek to see what he’d do.
Glen looked, too, and Derek motioned for the boy to come to him, suddenly feeling way more settled than he had minutes before, especially because of Glen’s small smile, meant only for him.
“Nice job.” James gave him a clap on the shoulder as Glen walked toward them. Went to Derek and nodded and then turned and did the same to James, before the man hugged him.
“Didn’t get to talk to you last night,” James said. “You’re looking good.”
“Thanks.”
“I hope this means you’re not going to be a stranger anymore.”
Glen flicked a glance at Derek. A shy smile that couldn’t have been any more effective if the boy crawled directly inside his fucking heart, and he was done. “I think you’ll see me around.”
“Come on.” Derek slid off the stool and brought Glen to the back, found an empty couch in a quiet corner. For a while, the men simply talked. Sports. Pop culture. Navy life.
“I was a Marine,” Derek said finally.