He mumbled a yes, and I withdrew my hand from his mouth, using his cheeks to dry my fingers. I pushed him down, hand splayed out in the middle of his back.
“Spread your arms out,” I said, and he did.
I put enough space between us to get his wrist cuffs attached to the bolts on either side of my footboard, then I fastened his ankles to the spreader bar. The position looked uncomfortable, but not enough to cause him more discomfort than I wanted him to feel.
“How’s that, Silas?” I asked.
“Good. It’s good.”
“What’s two times two?”
He made a noise that sounded like it would have been a laugh if he wasn’t already fraught with arousal. “Four. Why?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my gloves. The kidskin leather was cool to the touch, but it warmed as soon as I slipped my fingers inside, flexing them to help the leather mold and form to the shape of my hands.
“Just making sure you’re still here.”
“Mmmn. I am,” he purred.
I had lube in my pocket alongside a gold-foiled condom, waiting for the right time, which was—unfortunately for me—still rather far off.
“What’s your safe word?”
“Red.”
“Good.”
I gave one last look at the sight of Silas on his knees, legs spread wide and arms spread wider. His cock hung parallel to the floor, smearing wetness across his stomach with every beat of his heart. Turning my back, I stood over the top of him, one leg on either side of his hips, then I sank down into a squat. Sliding one hand beneath his stomach to hold him up, I rubbed slow and smooth circles across the pale swell of his ass. The spreader bar helped keep him open, his asshole accessible if I wanted it to be, which…
I did and I didn’t.
I needed to keep up my end of our negotiated scene before fucking him, because I could tell from nothing more than the way he moved and moaned against me that once I got inside of him, I’d be completely undone. Needing to put me out of my own misery, I lifted my hand and brought it back down, a hard and sharp slap of leather against skin. Silas sucked in a breath, and I repeated the motion in the same place but harder.
Another gasp.
So I went harder.
Still…
Silas moaned like a whore, his body moving like he was trying to fuck the air, so I spanked him again but lower, the leather covering my palm landing hard and true against the delicate fold of skin between his thigh and his ass cheek.
That was the impact that finally earned me something louder than a whimper.
I got him quick and strong, five more times in the same spot, then five more, and Silas was gasping for air between the moans. Kneading the skin I’d just been spanking, I moved to the other side, starting low and hard without the warmup. Silas was greedy when it came to keeping noises to himself, forcing out breathy pants and gasps and the quietest moans. All of it enough to make my own dick throb against my thigh, but notenough to make me feel like I was giving him the kind of spanking he was truly after.
Thinking quickly, I undid his wrists and hauled him up onto the bed. I reattached his wrist cuffs at the headboard, sank my weight down onto the small of his back and resumed spanking him with better leverage and more power.
“Oh, fuck.” Silas’s voice was muffled in the sheets, but he was far more audible than he’d been before. I went hard on him after that, against the globes of his ass, down the backs of his thighs and up again. On more than one occasion, he tried to squirm and twist away from me, but the spreader bar between his ankles kept him open how I wanted him.
As surprised as Silas had been to learn I was a dominant, I was more surprised to find out he was a submissive, even more so a masochist. It spoke to the fact there were so many things neither of us knew about each other, and one other thing Silas didn’t know about me was that I had the stamina of a man half my age, and I wasn’t even close to getting tired of striking him.
Twenty minutes in, the thrust of his hips into the sheets lost its consistent cadence, and I was quick to lift his midsection off the bed, taking away the friction he’d been chasing after.
“No,” I warned, putting my body over his, fisting his hair and yanking his head up to give my mouth access to his ear. “You will not come on my sheets, and you will not come without permission.”
“Marshall,” he begged, he whined, hepleaded.
“Do you understand me?”
