Something that had always been ill at ease inside him started to settle. All the things he usually worried about ceased to exist. One moment, one order, one man. Nothing else mattered.
Finally, Smith became bored with his efforts. “Rest.”
Rest position. Nate sat back on his heels, chewing at his bottom lip as he wondered how disappointed Smith was with him.
“May I…?” he risked a glance up at the other man, losing his nerve to ask a full question without permission.
Smith nodded at him to keep going.
“May I know how…may I know what would have worked, sir?”
Smith studied him very carefully. “Maybe I just enjoyed watching you try,” he suggested.
Nate dropped his gaze. If Smith wanted him to fail, then he supposed he should be happy about doing that, but it dawned on him right then that Smith was probably the only GAY FOR PAY
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man he’d ever met who wouldn’t consider a suitably expensive gift adequate compensation if he screwed up.
“Failing comes from not following your master’s orders—from not trying,” Smith told him, very seriously. “I’d have been very surprised if you’d got any further than you did. But you didn’t give up when you found it difficult. You didn’t complain or refuse to accept the limitations I put on you.”
Nate risked a brief glance into the other man’s eyes as all thought of expensive apologies dissolved away.
“Why not just reach out and use your hands?” Smith asked.
“Because you said…”
Smith smiled his approval of the answer. “Submission isn’t about following a dominant’s orders because you’re afraid,” he said. “Or because you don’t have any choice. If you don’t enjoy submitting to someone else’s restrictions, even when it’s difficult or frustrating, then there’s no point. And that’s something you can’t
know
for certain until you try.”
Nate met his eyes and forced himself to hold his gaze while he tried to understand what the other man was telling him.
“I don’t care what you’ve seen in some photo shot on the net. That’s not real dominance and submission. Neither was that mess in the club. The real thing is about far more than a whip or a chain. It’s about something inside you.”
Nate dropped his gaze. For once, he found that he really was sure, deep inside himself. He
knew
. He didn’t know how to make sense of it or how to explain it, but he knew he desperately needed exactly what Smith was giving him.
Smith stroked his hair back from his face. “This is important, Nate. Submission isn’t easy. Someone who practices it properly deserves the respect of the man he kneels for.”
“Yes, sir.”
Smith made him hold his gaze for a long time. He meant what he said, that was obvious. But there was something deeper as well. Maybe something like the mirror of the comfort he found kneeling at Smith’s feet. In some way he didn’t understand, it felt like Smith needed him there as much as he needed to be there.
When Smith finally let him look away, Nate’s eyes fell back to the older man’s cock.
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“May I stop resting now, sir?” he asked cautiously.
Smith chuckled. “You may move your hands.”
Relief flooded through him. He reached out to free Smith from the tangle of fabric.
“You may also wait until you are told what you are permitted to do with them.”
Nate slowly put his hands back behind his back.
“You may touch
your
cock. Just the shaft, not the head.”
Nate looked down at his erection as if he’d never seen it before. “But—” He put his hand over his mouth as he realised he’d just wiped away all the praise for not raising any objection to anything his master asked him to do. Nate closed his eyes.
Smith touched his cheek. “If you obeyed every order I gave you without hesitation, it wouldn’t impress me as much as it would quickly convince me you’d checked your brain in at the door. Submissives are erotic, drones are not. You can take thinking time if you need it.”
Nate bit down harder on his lip, not understanding why he wasn’t finding this part easy. It wasn’t even that he didn’t want to jack off. His cock ached for any touch, any bit of friction.
Smith sat on the chair above him watching, waiting. Very slowly Nate took his hand from behind his back as he pushed his embarrassment aside. He hesitated for a moment and then wrapped his fist around his shaft.
“That’s good. Remember—just the shaft. Don’t touch the head.”
His embarrassment faded away. Smith obviously didn’t think he was doing anything to be ashamed of, so there was no reason to blush just because there was someone watching him do something he’d only ever done in private.
“Look at me.”
Even with his desire to submit and please the other man burning inside him, Nate couldn’t raise his gaze to meet Smith’s eyes right then. His hand tightened around his shaft as he fisted the length and kept the dominant man waiting. His hand moved automatically, not looking to his brain for instruction now that his body remembered how good it felt to have anything wrapped snug and hot around his cock.
“Stop stroking. Look at me.”
Nate stared down. Holding his hand still, when every instinct wanted it to keep moving over his skin, was almost impossible. As he felt his will slip away, he looked up to GAY FOR PAY
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the other man for another order—for any instruction that would make him be able to do as Smith wanted rather than fail.
“That’s better,” Smith said. Nate couldn’t hold his gaze for long. His eyes darted off to the side or down, anywhere but straight into the other man’s eyes. Smith made no complaint as Nate continued to fight and pull his eyes back to Smith’s. Every time he looked back, Smith’s expression was unreadable.
“Look down.”
Nate doubted he’d ever receive an order that was easier to follow. His gaze dropped to rest on his own cock.
“Taste yourself.”
“Sir?”
“Gather the pre-cum on your fingertips and taste yourself,” Smith repeated.
Nate watched detached from the whole world as his fingers gave up on ever getting a sensible instruction from his brain. Smith had given his order. Even if his brain was lagging behind, his body was already starting to trust the dominant not to tell him to do something that was wrong.
His fingers swiped across the tip of his cock and rushed to his lips. His tongue fell in league with them, lapping at his fingertips. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed down a faint taste of salt. He looked up and saw Smith watching him very carefully.
Nate blushed and looked back to his fingers. He noticed a trace he missed and automatically licked his finger clean. Feeling more heat rush to his lips, he put both his hands behind his back and took refuge in his safe position.
Well, if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing ever… Smith traced a line across Nate’s full bottom lip with his thumb. The younger man offered a cautious lick in response.
“If either of us comes tonight, you’re going to lap it all up.”
“Yes, sir,” it was as softly spoken as all his responses, but there seemed to be an underlying certainty now, which hadn’t been there before. Smith stroked Nate’s hair back from his face.
“Submissive’s choice,” he offered. “At least one of us is going to come tonight. I’ll decide if we both do later on, but you may decide who gets to come first.”
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The purposefully difficult wording forced Nate to think about each word and what it meant. It was really a simple matter of letting Nate decide if he wanted to come or if he wanted his master to come more, but it demanded a thought process rather than a rote answer. He saw the moment when Nate untangled the words and made sense of them.
“You, sir.”
Smith leaned back in his chair and just appreciated the view for a few moments. No manipulation, just a simple desire to please.
He was such a natural submissive and he seemed so at ease with his place at his feet, it was all too easy to forget that he didn’t really know anything about formal submission yet.
Careful. Slow. Give him his chance to make his own decision.
“You can use your hands,” he said.
The younger man glanced up at him, all uncertain eagerness. His touch was impossibly cautious as he reached out and moved his clothes aside. Delicately freeing his shaft from the fabric, he glanced up, looking for another order.
Smith merely nodded his permission. He’d been painfully hard for what felt like an eternity. Even if he’d never laid a hand on another man, Nate had to know that meant he was desperate to come. Nate wrapped his hand around his shaft. The awe in Nate’s expression and the absolute certainty he was the first man Nate had ever touched took some part of the frustration away from the slow, overly gentle touches.
“Tell me what you like, sir?”
Smith shook his head. No matter how certain he seemed, there was no way in hell he could order someone in Nate’s position to suck him off right then. ”Do what you think is right.”
Nate swallowed several times.
Smith forced himself not to groan his frustration as he watched the muscles in Nate’s throat work around thin air rather than his cock.
Nate leant forward. Steadying his shaft with his fingertips he cautiously put his lips to the tip. His tongue flicked against the head. He glanced up at Smith and did the same thing again.
“That’s good.”
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Nate closed his eyes. Smith could practically see the relief rush through him. He’d pleased his master.
The younger man worked his tongue against the head, sucking gently as he took a little more of him into his mouth. He leant forward a little more, encasing more of Smith’s shaft in a perfect hot little cocoon. Then he had to pull back in a rush when Smith’s cock nudged the back of his throat. Smith’s cock slipped from between his lips.
Nate opened his mouth as if to apologise and then hesitated, remembering his earlier correction.
Smith held out his hand. “Give me your hand.”
As Nate did as he was told, Smith guided him to wrap his fist around the base of his cock, giving himself the enclosed feeling he was so desperate for and taking some inches off the length at the same time.
“Just concentrate on the head,” Smith advised.
Nate cautiously took the tip back into his mouth. There was no real technique, but Smith couldn’t bring himself to regret that. Experience would come with time, but the sort of innocence he saw in Nate right then would never be captured again—that bit of Nate would always belong to him.
All too soon, Smith found himself seconds away from coming. He stroked Nate’s hair back from his face. As much as he wanted to finish where he was, he was equally sure that Nate would be devastated to discover most people found swallowing with grace to be an acquired skill.
He let Nate keep going until he was right on the edge, then nudged him away at the last moment to come into his own hand. He knew he’d have to explain that move later, but right then, all he could do was drop his head back against the back of the chair and hold his breath as pleasure rushed through him fast enough to make his mind spin.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and savoured that perfect moment when there was no thought process present except the one that said, damn but that feels good. A moist tongue lapped against his finger.
Smith blinked his eyes open and looked down to see Nate, not unsure and needing reassurance that his master was pleased with him as Smith had expected, but calmly cleaning his hand. He looked up, as if realising he was being observed.
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“You said, sir,” he reminded.
“Yes,” Smith said, his voice slow and sleepy. He cleared his throat, as his adrenaline drained away all at once and let exhaustion rush back into his body. “Good boy.”
Nate smiled a little at the gentle praise and went back to what he was doing, licking and kissing the stickiness from Smith’s hand as if there was nothing in the world he’d rather be doing.
He’d put his own hands behind his back, Smith noted. He smiled and turned his attention back to the tongue working diligently away at his hand. Stroking Nate’s hair with his free hand, he fought to keep his eyes open.
When everything was gone, Nate pressed a final kiss to his skin. Perfect.
“Thank you, sir.”
Smith leant forward and brushed their lips together, smiling at the idea Nate should be the one thanking him.
“Go on—into the bathroom. Get ready for bed.”
Nate rose and walked across to the bathroom, his own untended erection bobbing with each step.
“Nate?” Smith called, when the bathroom door was almost closed.
“Yes, sir?”
“Don’t come.”
Nate only hesitated for a moment. “Yes, sir.”
Smith tidied himself up and dragged himself out of his chair to pace around the room, trying to make sure he would still be awake when Nate returned. His brain wanted to switch into neutral, but he forced it to work a little bit longer and work out what needed to be done next.
“You have a choice,” Smith informed him, as neutrally as possible, when Nate came back into the bedroom.
“Yes, sir?”
“You can come, in which case you may sleep on the sofa. Or you can sleep in the bed with me. One or the other, not both.”
Nate glanced at the pillow and blanket Smith had placed on the sofa, then at the bed, and then Smith’s shoes.
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“May I ask something, sir?”
Smith nodded his permission.
“If I chose the wrong one, may I have neither, sir?”
Smith considered the question carefully. “Which do you choose?”
“The bed, sir. But if you’d prefer I didn’t, I don’t mind the sofa,” he rushed to add.
“If I’d prefer you didn’t do something, I wouldn’t offer it as an option,” Smith said.
Nate nodded his understanding, although Smith knew he didn’t really understand how that part of submission and dominance worked yet.