“You’re mine to command, mine to use.” Gregory’s pumps quickened, growing feverish and erratic. “Mine to love.”
Gregory bit Landon’s ear when he came, pressing their bodies together so tightly that Landon was surprised they didn’t mold into one. Gregory grunted and trembled through his orgasm, pushing Landon down and smashing his dick against the rough fabric of the couch.
Landon whined and wiggled his hips, searching for the bite of pain that came with the friction from the upholstery. Gregory keyed into what he was doing and with a small laugh, used his body to push Landon’s cock harder against the back of the couch.
Landon’s orgasm built inside of him, an uncontrollable thing that threatened to send him barreling head first into the rest of his life…
“Go on ,” Gregory coaxed with one final slam of his hips.
Landon did as he’d been told, his cock spurting streams of cum onto the back of Gregory’s couch as he came with a watery cry. Gregory fucked his semi-hard cock into his ass until Landon was finished, then he pulled out and stepped back, the space between them quickly turning tangible.
Gregory petted his palm down Landon’s back and walked around to the couch, and sat abruptly. He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head low between his shoulders, scratching at his scalp with sweaty and lube soaked hands.
“Gregory?” Landon questioned softly. He did his best to wipe his release from the couch, smearing it down his leg and mentally promising to do something later about the inevitable stains.
Gregory didn’t reply, so Landon cautiously approached him on the other side of the couch. He was shaking. Landon could see the tautness of Gregory’s forearms as the muscles tremored and twitched, as if holding his head in his hands was too much for him to bear.
Landon knelt in front of him and ran his palms up Gregory’s arms. Gregory startled as though he was surprised to see Landon there.
“Are you okay?” Landon asked.
“That really took it out of me,” Gregory admitted with a self-deprecating laugh.
Landon’s eyes grew wet again, and he was painfully aware of this being yetone more timeGregory had put him first. Landon fought down his own feelings of inadequacy and took Gregory’s face in his hands, pressing a gentle kiss against his mouth.
“Let me serve you then,” Landon nearly begged, “Let me take care of you. I’ll go draw a bath or something.”
“No bath.” Gregory stopped him. “Go into my room, though, in the sock drawer under the bandanas. Bring me what you find.”
33
Gregory
Landon knelt before him,ass on his heels and white pressboard box on his flat palms. His eyes were bloodshot from his earlier meltdown and Gregory anticipated his ass was sore from the lube-free finger fucking he’d gotten over the couch.
“What do you think it is?” he asked Landon.
“A collar.” The words left Landon’s mouth like a prayer.
Gregory pulled the top of the box off and tossed it on the couch beside him, revealing the contents to Landon. It was, in fact, a collar. A smooth, stainless collar that locked in the back, just as Gregory had described.
“This one is much moreyouthan the first one I bought you.” Gregory ran the rounded edges of the metal through his fingers, flicking the pad of his finger over the inlaid O-ring in the front. It was subtle, and understated, the complete opposite of Landon.
“Do you want this?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Landon promised.
“What does this mean to you?”
“Everything,” Landon rasped, directing his eyes toward Gregory’s face.
“Do you want to know what it means to me?”
Gregory plucked a small key from the cotton pad in the box, then took the box from Landon and set it beside the lid. Landon folded his hands in front of him and nodded.
“Yes, please.”
“It means no more tantrums.” Gregory slid the key into the lock and un-latched it. The collar split into two equal sized C shapes in his palm. “It means you trust in me, trust in this.”
