Page 16 of On Your Knees

“I’m very fucking happy with you,” I tell him in a low, rasping voice. “You were perfect in every way.”

His full lips part. The alarm fades from his eyes. It shouldn’t. His instincts were right. I’m dangerous right now. But this is the dark part of him that instinctively responds to the dark part of me.

“Say you’ll come back,” I demand.

“I’ll come back,” he says. His voice is breathy. I feel it as much as hear it, like a feathery touch. It makes me shiver. It makes me reach out and brush my thumb over his plump bottom lip. God, I loved drawing that.

He sucks in a startled breath. I think I could kiss him, I really do. I think he’s so close to recognizing the sexual nature of his response to me that I could show it to him right now with my lips against his. But I don’t think I could stop there.

This is going to take more control than I realized. It’s going to take more than a cock cage.

I push back from the wall and walk to the door, opening it to see Patrick in his suit, waiting by the elevator. As Levi walks out, hands in his pockets, he glances back at me. He’s confused and unsure.

He’ll simply have to be that way for now. I have to fix myself first.

So I close the door.

I walk back through the penthouse to the playroom, where I take off my clothes, leaving only the cock cage. My dick is swollen to the limits of it, and my balls are painfully full. The weight is heavy and awful as I duck around the curtain.

I walk past the benches and chairs, the ropes and chains and pulleys. I go to the corner and kneel on the prayer bench.

Then I pick up the flogger and teach myself a lesson in control.

SEVEN

Levi

I’m sitting on the red couch, posed with my legs bent but open, one knee drawn up. He’s walking around behind me. I want to look over my shoulder and see what he’s doing, but I’m not supposed to move.

His fingers brush the back of my neck, making me shiver. I feel strange, all hot and agitated. Something goes around my neck. I feel it closing. Tightening. He leans down. His lips brush my ear as he hums, “Mmm, perfect,” then his hand slides down my chest and stomach to my stiff, aching cock. I’m suddenly aware of it as he touches it, like it didn’t really exist until his hand was on it.

I let out a long, needy moan that vibrates the collar against my throat. My body opens further. I arch, pushing myself up into the touch.

His lips are still at my ear. One of his hands grips the collar and pulls me hard against him. With the couch between us, that’s all I can feel, his fingers and his lips—and the hand on my cock. But there’s a phantom quality to it that has me desperate and straining. I need more, but it’s not there.

I whine in frustration. My body is so tight and hot. My heart is racing. I neeeeed—

My eyes fly open. I’m disoriented by the darkness, unsure where I am or what’s happening as my muscles seize and I start ejaculating. My hands are balled up at my sides. Nothing is even touching my cock, but it’s spurting cum all over my clenched abdomen. I gasp as it happens, and the sound is harsh and foreign to my ears.

It leaves me shuddering and shaky as reality sets in. I’m in my apartment, in my bed. I just came all over myself from a dream. From a sex dream.

I’ve never had a sex dream before.

I do come in my sleep pretty often, but it’s just something my body does. I wake up with a mess, but there’s never a dream attached to it. I’ve read that I could be having dreams that I don’t remember, but I find that so hard to imagine.

But that…

That was vivid. And it was gay.

Am I gay?

My mind skips past that because the fact that the dream was gay doesn’t feel half as significant as the fact that the dream was sexual. And that it was about Ethan. About him touching me. About him touching my cock while choking me. My hand flies to my throat, but of course there’s nothing there.

I find myself abruptly unable to lie still. I kick away the covers that are tangled around my feet. I slide from the bed and stumble the short distance to the bathroom, sidling into the narrow space. I don’t turn on the light because there’s always enough light bleeding in through the cheap, broken blinds. Besides, I don’t really want to see myself right now.

I lean over the sink and clean myself up. My hands are shaky. Everything feels unstable around me.

I go back to bed because there’s really nowhere else to be in this tiny apartment. I curl up on my side, pulling the covers over myself.