“A few hours.”
He pouts. I grasp his chin and kiss his petulant look away.
“What should we do while we wait?” he asks.
“I can think of a few things. Why don’t we have something to eat first.”
“Can I eat your cock?”
I laugh loudly. “I think we both need some real sustenance. Then we can lounge on the sofa, and I’ll read some ofRock Hardto you.”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
“Then you can prepare yourself while I get everything else we’ll need to play ready.”
He wraps his arms around me and snuggles close. “That sounds like a perfect way to spend a few hours, Sir.”
I stroke his hair, smiling. I’m already looking forward to our play this evening. To watching him moan and writhe, his wrists and ankles straining against his bonds as I make him feel hot and cold pleasure.
“Thank you,” I say.
He blinks at me. “For what?”
“Telling me what you wanted yesterday. For persuading me to ask you to stay this weekend.”
He grins. “I’m glad you did.”
“You realise we’re both going to be exhausted by Monday morning?” I warn.
“That’s okay. I’m sure my boss will forgive me if I’m yawning all day.”
“Are you sure?”
“Perfectly. And if he’s annoyed with me, I’ll suck him off to get him in a good mood.”
"Your boss must like you."
"He does." Archie pushes his hand under my T-shirt. "I'm his muse."
“You are,” I whisper. And he’s quickly becoming so much more.
17
Archie
We cook together, and then we curl up on the sofa while Hamish reads the kinkiest scenes fromRock Hardto me in the sexiest voice imaginable.
When darkness falls, he sends me upstairs to shower and prep myself, while he gets things ready for our fire and ice sensory play session. My body tingles with anticipation as I clean myself inside and out. Knowing I’d be here for the weekend, I packed my douche.
I go through to the bedroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist and gasp. The room looks amazing. Hamish has closed the curtains and dimmed the lights to only the faintest glow. He's lit candles all around the room and has attached cuffs and chains to the bed. There's a black blindfold lying over the pillow, and a sheet covers the bed, no doubt so the actual bed linen doesn't end up with wax all over it. There's an ice bucket on the bedside table, full of ice and the dildo we made. He's taken it out of the cardboard tube and the condom, allowing me to see the spiralling ridged pattern that was created by the cleverly placed string. I swallow hard as I imagine what it will feel like inside me. There's also a tray with large pieces of skinned ginger root on it.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“If it’s too much, we don’t have to do this,” Hamish says.
“I want to.”
Hamish pats the bed beside him. I sit, and he grasps my chin in his hand.
