Birthday Licks (2 page)

“One of my…friends likes for me to get bossy during sex.” He
paused. “Bossier than I’m comfortable with.

“He wants you to top?”

“I always top with him.” Ryan sighed. “I usually top, Sir.”

“Now
that
is a waste,” Vincent commented. Ryan
tensed. Thomas petted him.

“Shut up, Vincent.” This time Ryan didn’t think he’d
bothered to look at the silver fox. “Is that what you like, boy? To top?”

“It’s sex, Sir. It’s all good.” And that was true.

“But you’re looking for more than just good. And topping
makes you uncomfortable.”

“Not uncomfortable, exactly, Sir. And not all the time. It
just feels like Tristan needs something I can’t give him. And when he talked
about this, about being Dominated, that felt right in a way nothing else has
since I understood that I liked boys for sex.”

“And Tristan brought you here?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s my birthday present.”

“This just gets better and better,” Vincent said. “A virgin,
here on his birthday for his first ever scene. If you don’t spank the boy, I
will.”

Ryan tensed every single muscle to keep from running. The
words
virgin
and
spank
echoed in his head, all mixed up with his
aversion to Vincent and the mysterious pull he felt toward Thomas.

“Look at me, boy.” Thomas’ voice cut through the roaring in
Ryan’s ears. Ryan lifted his head, not meeting Thomas’ gaze.

“Is that what you’re here for? A birthday spanking?” His
voice was soft, almost tender. Ryan dared to glance at his eyes. Dark,
seemingly bottomless wells of quiet.

“I don’t know, Sir. I thought so. It’s confusing.”

Thomas nodded encouragingly, but Ryan’s words had stalled
out.

“Let’s narrow it down, then.” The Dom’s voice was
matter-of-fact. “Do you want Vincent to spank you?”

“No, Sir.” No hesitation at all, just a slightly tardy
realization that he might have offended the man in question. “No offense, uh,
Sir,” he added.

Vincent laughed, the same slightly cruel sound that had
grated on Ryan’s nerves and sent him into a near panic. Or something.

“Rejected!” he crowed. “Shot through the heart by Cupid’s
arrow and then brutally rejected by the object of my affection.” He reached
down and grabbed a handful of Ryan’s butt-cheek, and this time Ryan did more
than flinch. He
moved
, moved closer to Thomas, closer to security.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Vincent.” Thomas curled his hand
around Ryan’s neck, sending an irrational wave of calm through him. Irrational
that he should feel so safe in such a fraught situation. Irrational that one
man, Scary Dude, should make his skin prickle in revulsion while another,
Thomas, should send a shiver of longing over his body and fill his mind with
quiet in practically the same action.

Vincent laughed again, with an edge that hinted he was less
amused than he was attempting to appear.

“Fine, Thomas. Don’t allow me my entertainments. I suppose I
shall have to find a less alluring playmate elsewhere and leave the pretty for
you.”

There was a rustle of expensive fabric, and Vincent was
finally gone. Thomas’ hand fell away and he shifted back in his chair.

Light the Candles

“You’ve dropped your position.”

The words were soft, spoken without inflection, but they
struck Ryan like a blow. He jerked upright, locking his hands at the small of
his back and lowering his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Because it seemed like what he was
supposed to say. “And thank you.” Because he couldn’t have borne to let Vincent
touch him, and he wasn’t entirely sure he could have continued this instruction
with the other Dom’s ironic commentary. And he wasn’t ready for this interlude
with Thomas to end.

“Forgiven.” Thomas leaned back, crossed one ankle over the
opposite knee. Ryan slanted a glance upward, trying to read the Dom’s face
through his lashes. Thomas lifted his glass, a snifter with about an inch of
amber-looking liquid swirling around the bottom, and Ryan had a brief moment to
be grateful he hadn’t knocked Thomas’ drink flying when he’d fallen into his
lap.

“So, we’ve established you don’t want Vincent to spank you.”
The amusement in Thomas’ voice was so dry it was almost undetectable, but it
was also about a million times more authentic than Vincent’s raucous laughter
had been.

“No, Sir. I don’t want him.” Was that an invitation? A hint?
Ryan thought he might have meant for it to be one. Would Thomas take him up on
it?

“But you want to be spanked.” Ryan nodded slowly. “By a
Mistress?” Ryan’s gaze jerked up involuntarily. Was he
kidding
? Thomas
raised that expressive brow and Ryan lowered his eyes again.

“Hmmm.” Thomas shifted a bit. Ryan thought he might be
taking a sip of his drink. “Some men, even gay men, prefer to have a Mistress.
Domination and submission, while always intensely intimate, isn’t necessarily
always sexual.” Thomas was silent a while, long enough that Ryan thought he
should be starting to feel awkward, but somehow Thomas’ very presence kept him
calm.

“So, it’s not men you object to. Just Vincent.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Look around, beautiful. Do you see anyone who looks
tempting?”

Seriously? Did Thomas seriously not feel Ryan’s entire body
yearning toward him? Ryan looked obediently around the room, not really seeing
anything. A flash of green near the bar might have been Tristan. A glint of
silver hovering a few feet from their little nest could have been Vincent,
though Ryan deliberately refused to focus on him.

Really, he didn’t want to focus on anyone at all. He wanted
Thomas, and it was beyond belief that the Dom didn’t feel the thread of energy
stretching between them as strongly as Ryan did.

Ryan stole another peek at Thomas, peering up while trying
to hide behind the hair flopping in his eyes. Oh, no. The Dom absolutely was
feeling the connection every bit as strongly as Ryan did. An erection that
looked like an iron bar strained at his faded jeans, and his lips looked full
and flushed. But one finger tapped restlessly against the side of his snifter
as he gazed pensively into his drink rather than at Ryan.

It was awkward and embarrassing, but Ryan suspected a lot of
D/s stuff would be awkward and embarrassing, probably for a good long while. The
important part, he thought, was to push through the awkward and be honest.
Because what was the point of any of this if he wasn’t being honest, right?

“I want it from you, Sir.” He was proud of the fact he
managed to keep his voice steady. Especially when Thomas turned dark, brooding
eyes in his direction.

“I’m not looking for anything but a scene tonight, boy.”

Ryan frowned.

“Isn’t that the goal? To play? To have a scene?”

“It can be. If you’d played here before I’d expect a
birthday spanking would be.” Thomas reached out, toyed with the ends of Ryan’s
hair. “But this is new to you, and if it’s done right, it’ll be intense. Have
you ever heard of the term ‘subspace’?” Thomas’ voice stayed low, hypnotic.

“No, Sir.”
Just please don’t stop touching me.

“It’s a mental state, a place submissives find in their
heads where they can let go of everything and just float. Where they can feel
free and let their Dom make all the decisions.”

Ryan wasn’t sure when he’d lost his position, but he
realized he was leaning against the chair, pressed against Thomas’ leg while
the man petted him, and he practically purred like a cat.

“In a true D/s relationship,” Thomas continued, “the Dom and
sub build up a level of intimacy and trust so solid that the Dom can recognize
his submissive’s needs before the sub is even aware of them, and the submissive
knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that every single one of his Dom’s commands
are for his benefit.”

Long fingers tangled in Ryan’s curls with a light tug.

“You’ve got lovely hair, beautiful. Now display.”

The words were level and softly spoken, like everything
Thomas had said, but they jolted Ryan back into perfect posture.

“Sorry, Sir. And thank you.” He meant thank you for the
reminder as much as the compliment.

“So, subspace is the headspace where the submissive gives
over everything, trusting his Dom to protect him and to give him back what he
needs.” Thomas uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, running a finger down
Ryan’s spine. Ryan shivered and his cock made an earnest attempt to burrow
through his zipper.

“You most likely won’t find subspace tonight. In fact, I’d
be shocked if you did. And I don’t really think you
should
. Not during
your first scene, and not with a stranger. This is about learning: learning
your limits and what works for you.”

“You don’t feel like a stranger, Sir.”

“But I am one. Don’t forget that.” Thomas’ eyes were dark
and serious.

“No, Sir. I won’t.” But it would be hard.

“What concerns me most is that, because it’s your first
time, and because,” he smiled a little, “I’m
very
good at what I do,
you’re going to want to attach.” Thomas sat back, re-crossing his legs. “I’m
not looking for attachments.”

“I didn’t come here looking for a boyfriend.” He shook his
head and hurried on before Thomas could comment. “I didn’t come looking for a
relationship.” He shook his head again, wishing he could put the confused swirl
of emotions filling him into coherent words.

“I’m not sure
what
I’m looking for, Sir. I just know
I’m feeling my way along. The idea of submission? Feels right. The idea of
being spanked? Feels hot. The idea of being spanked by you? Feels
really
hot.” Thomas made an amused-sounding huff, and Ryan smiled at the floor. What
he said next, though, was deadly serious.

“More important than the hot part, though…the idea of you
spanking me feels right. The thought of anyone else doing it makes my stomach
knot up.” Ryan really wished he could see Thomas’ expression, see his eyes, try
to gauge how he was reacting to Ryan’s words.

“I want it to be you tonight. I think I need it to be you
tonight. Tonight, you’re the one I trust to show me…well, to show me whatever
there is to see, I guess. I don’t expect anything from you, except for you to
take care of me tonight.”

“I’m still not convinced this is a good idea, beautiful. But
I can’t deny you’re incredibly tempting. And I’m not a fan of self-denial.”

He could hear it in his voice; Thomas was giving in. Ryan
bit his lip and tried not to smile like a bloody fool. He figured he hadn’t
been very successful when Thomas gave another amused, exasperated-sounding
huff.

“You need, I want… Let’s begin.”

Thomas’ voice was low, rough and soft all at once, and it
sent a shiver down Ryan’s spine.

“A question, Sir?” Because it couldn’t be as easy as this,
right?

“Ask, beautiful.”

He felt beautiful. He felt Thomas’ eyes on him, tracing the
bare line of his spine, the dip and arch where his back eased into his
buttocks, and for that moment he
was
beautiful.

“Don’t we need…stuff?”

Eyes on the floor, he couldn’t see Thomas’ expression, but
it wasn’t hard to imagine that brow lifting. Particularly when the Dom’s voice
came, low and amused.

“What sort of stuff were you thinking of?”

Shit. That sounded like he meant sex stuff. Condoms and lube
stuff. And he’d figured out enough to know that expecting sex from Thomas was
beyond presumptuous.

“Like…I don’t know.”
Way to wuss out
. “Like paddles
and stuff.”
And how much more stupid could I sound?

“Oh.” Thomas chuckled. “
That
stuff.” A firm hand,
rough with calluses, stroked along Ryan’s side, and he unconsciously shifted,
pressed into the touch as much as he could without compromising his stance.

“That stuff can be fun, but it’s all just accessories.
What’s important is what’s going on in your head. What’s going on with your
body is just a reflection of what’s happening in your mind.”

Another slow stroke, and Ryan shivered. What was going on
with his body was that it was melting, going soft and supple. Which made
perfect sense, as his mind was going quiet. The questions that had been chasing
around like hamsters in a wheel slowed down with each touch of Thomas’ hand.

Thomas made a low, approving noise and Ryan wanted to preen,
wanted to flush and show the entire room how proud he was of pleasing his
Mas—of pleasing his Sir.

“Now, are you ready to begin? No more questions?”

“No questions, Sir. I’m ready.”

So very, very ready
.

“Stand, then, and lose
the pants.”

Ryan shuddered and did as
he was told.

“Standing display. It’s
the same as kneeling, but with your feet shoulder-width apart.”

Ryan shuddered. Again. And did as he was told. Again.

He still wasn’t quite sure what to expect. He’d had some
idea of bending over someone’s—some
man’s
—lap. He hadn’t pictured
standing stark-assed naked in a club full of people, waiting for direction from
his…Sir.

Thomas didn’t leave him floundering for long, though. After
a moment, he rose and began to walk around Ryan. Eyes toward the floor, Ryan
couldn’t see Thomas examine him, but he sure as fuck could feel it. The Dom’s
eyes were every bit as tactile as his voice.

A couple slow circuits around him, and Thomas ran a finger
down Ryan’s spine. This time, without the interference of Ryan’s pants, Thomas
traced his finger lower, toying with the divot at the top of his crack. Ryan’s
breath caught. Fuck. Who knew that was a hot spot?

“You’ll have two safe words. One as a warning, one for a
full stop. They should be words you’ll remember easily, but won’t accidentally
say in the heat of the moment.”

Ryan nodded, but he was frowning. One of the things he
thought he wanted was for Thomas to push past his instinctive denials, to push
him to take more sensation, give more surrender.

“Question, beautiful?”

Damn. Maybe Thomas really was reading his mind.

“Kind of. It’s just, I’m here because I want you to push me,
Sir. I don’t want you to stop.”

“And for what we’re doing tonight, you probably won’t need
me to stop. But if you decide to experiment in the lifestyle, you’ll become
involved in increasingly intense scenes. You’ll push boundaries, and sometimes
you’ll need a time out. That’s when you use your warning, when you need to
pause and talk through something. Sometimes, you’ll push too hard, or too soon.
That’s when you’ll need your safe word, your word to bring everything to a full
stop. Safe words aren’t something to play with. You use them when you need to,
not just because you’re uncomfortable or upset.”

Ryan nodded again, thinking hard. It made sense, but that
didn’t keep it from feeling like a cop out.

“You understand in your head right now,” Thomas said. “But
when the time comes to use them, you’ll understand in your gut. It’s enough for
the moment that you choose two words, and promise to use them if things get too
intense for you.”

“Okay. Okay, Sir. Um. Sparrow. Sparrow and crow.”

“Very good, beautiful. Sparrow to pause, crow for a full
stop. So.” Thomas’ voice rubbed over him, that combination of soft and rough
that he could practically feel stroking his skin. “Twenty-one, eh?”

Ryan nodded, not entirely sure he was supposed to answer,
but unable to stop his body from responding on a purely instinctual level.

“That’s a lot of blows, beautiful.” Thomas stroked his free
hand over Ryan’s ass, lingering to cup the fullness of one cheek. “Are you sure
you’re up to it?”

“No, Sir.” This time his response was verbal. Thomas didn’t
comment, so he thought it must have been okay. “But I know I want to try. I
need
to try.”

“Hmmm.” Thomas stepped away from him to resume his seat, and
Ryan shivered at the loss of his body heat. He hadn’t realized just how close
the man was standing until he wasn’t there anymore. There was a pause, a faint
clink as if a glass was being set on a table, then a soft whisper of fabric as
Thomas shifted back in his seat.

“Over my lap, beautiful.”

Awkward. So awkward as Ryan draped himself over Thomas’
knees. As the Dom adjusted Ryan’s cock to fall heavy between Thomas’ thighs. As
he cupped Ryan’s balls, shifting so they’d get enough pressure to be
distracting, but not enough to hurt in a bad way.

The seat was low, and Ryan was tall. He ended up with his
own knees bent, feet and palms planted for balance, ass high and vulnerable to
Thomas’ stroking hand.

“We’ll start with a set of…five, I think.” He squeezed,
digging fingers briefly into Ryan’s skin, and Ryan shivered. Sensation.
Anticipation.

Please, please, please…

“Count them off,” Thomas instructed, and with no more
warning than that, the first blow landed.

Thomas didn’t hit hard. It barely even stung. Still, Ryan’s
breath clogged in his chest and his mouth went dry.

“You aren’t counting,” Thomas observed quietly.