Page 12 of His for Hanukkah

“Follow me.”

“Yes, Sir.” It wasn’t necessary to say it, but saying the words sent shivers all through him. The way that Tate’s eyes widened was an even better feeling.

Tate sat squarely in the middle of the couch, his legs spread wide and feet planted firmly on the floor. The position screamed power and dominance. Like he was already imagining Adam on the floor between his thighs, serving him.

Adam stood awkwardly, waiting for a command.

“Up over my knees, boy.”

Adam scrambled to obey. They’d discussed punishments, but most of them had been things like standing in the corner. They sounded like they’d be horrible in the moment, but something about it felt both comforting and sexy anyway.

This was something completely different, though. Over my knees meant a spanking.

Adam’s dick was so hard it was tenting the loose pajama pants Tate had put on him. It bounced around as he arranged himself awkwardly on the couch, giving him zings of illicit pleasure.

Unfortunately, the way that Tate arranged his legs meant that it wouldn’t get any more friction.

Tate rested one warm hand on his back and another in his hair.

“This is a punishment, boy, not a reward. Do you know why I’m punishing you?”

Adam started to give an automatic answer. I’ve been a naughty boy or something like that. But he realized immediately that it wasn’t what Tate was looking for. Throw-away phrases like that were for throw-away encounters.

This was real.

He drew in a breath. He didn’t want to think about how much he’d fucked up today, but he loved the idea of absolution. “Because I messed up the Christmas display. Because I got angry.”

Tate’s hand came down hard and without any warning.

“Ow!” he wailed, though he told himself he wouldn’t cry. He hadn’t been expecting anything like that. It hurt, and not in a sexy way.

“No, boy. I’m punishing you to teach you a lesson that I want you to remember. Are you paying attention?”

“Yes, Sir.” Though he wasn’t so sure anymore that he wanted this type of discipline. He trusted Tate, though. He needed to remember that.

“Here’s the lesson. When you feel yourself spiraling out of control, before you get to that point, you come to me. You tell me what you need, and you let me take care of you.”

Oh, God. That sounded perfect. Like everything Adam had ever wanted, even if it couldn’t be true. Was having it for a week better or worse than never having it at all? He meant to agree, or at least make some noncommittal noise while he figured it out. But somehow, when his mouth popped open, he said, “Really? Are you sure?”

“Is that a safe word, boy?”

Adam shook his head frantically. Now that it was a real possibility, ending the scene would be horrible. Beyond contemplation. “Please, no, Sir. I didn’t mean it.”

“Then I think what you meant to say was yes, Sir.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Go ahead. Say it, then.”

This was hard, but he wanted to please Tate. “Before I get out of control, I’ll come to you.”

Adam felt Tate yanking down his soft pajamas just enough to expose his ass, and then pain flooded through him. It hurt. He bit his lip, but some sound still escaped. Did he want this or didn’t he?

He didn’t try to move away.

“Say it again.”

“Before I get out of control, I’ll come to you.” He felt foolish, like a bad student writing lines. The words didn’t mean anything, or maybe they did…