About this I can’t fudge at all. Besides, he knows the requirements of my job and wouldn’t buy it if I fibbed and said it could wait until morning. “Not much. I want to skim through those to familiarize myself with them before I go to sleep. I have meetings tomorrow afternoon.”
“Jordan said you skipped your workout this morning because of pain. How are you feeling right now?”
“I need the good kind of pain.” That’s no lie.
Don’t ask me why it’s different, but it is. The good pain helps keep the bad pain at bay. Don’t get me wrong, I mean yeah, sometimes I hurt too damned bad to do anything but lie in bed and cuddle with Jordan. Leo’s no stranger to chronic pain either, after surviving his plane crash years ago. Fortunately that means he totally gets me, in that way.
“I’ve been taking ibuprofen,” I add. “I was stiff and sore this morning. I’ve loosened up a little since then.” I smile. “Can’t promise I won’t be sore tomorrow morning, though. Kind of hope Iwillbe sore, in all the good ways.”
He makes a noise to stop me from unbuttoning my shirt. Then he walks over and gently swats my hands away so he can do it. “Let me.”
“Thank you, Master.” I think about our first weekend together all those years ago, where Leo took care of me, showed me how good things could be between us.
The way he carved through my fear with gentle love even as he brutally left his marks all over my flesh and claimed complete ownership of me.
I’ve been his since that night. I will always belong to him in some way, even if Jordan now fills my world. My guilt over Leo’s years of selfless dedication to me and our relationship will forever weigh heavily upon my soul.
Leo studies me for a moment before he palms my cheek. I know that melancholy smile curving his lips. “Pet,” he says, “all Ineedis for you to focus and do your job. Right now, you’ve got Jordan. I’mreallyokay. Don’t worry about me.”
This is something else I love about him, that he can pretty much read my mind. That’s no exaggeration. It’s partly because he’s a trained psychologist, partly because he’s former Secret Service, and partly because he knows much of my soul’s inner landscape like the back of his hand.
“But Master, it’s not fair to you to—”
He viciously fists my hair and tips my head back, cutting me off in mid-sentence. “Stoptrying to decide what is and isn’t fair to me. I’mtellingyou what I want. If you’ve decided you don’t want me to be your Master and have that control over you any longer then say so. Otherwise say, ‘Yes, Master,’ and be my good boy.”
The words fall from my lips. “Yes, Master.”
Immediately his grip eases as a smile breaks through. “Such a good boy for me,” he coos and I’m…gone.
Lost.
Utterly and completely.
He’s had this effect on me from that very first night and it’s only grown stronger throughout the years.
The only thing stronger is what Jordan does to me.
Leo tightly holds me as I wrap my arms around him. “You need to stop thinking you have to manage time between me and Jordan,” he mumbles against the top of my head. “Or that you’re shorting me. You don’t, and you aren’t. I have you, and I have our boy, and I am happy that you are here and he’s here with you because I know that you will be all ours once you’re out of office. Let Jordan and I handle the time management because your plate is already overflowing. What will it take to break through that stubborn brain of yours and convince you of that?”
“I wish I knew.” I don’t realize I’ve said that aloud until he chuckles.
“My sweet pet. Let’s get you undressed,hmm?” Without warning he shoves me, hard, and I hit the bed on my back. He immediately pounces on top of me, not giving me any time to respond and throw him off.
Not that I want to.
I enjoy our “struggle snuggles” as Jordan jokingly calls them, where Leo and I wrestle and fight, but I was wrong when I thought earlier that I needed a beating. Tonight, I don’t “need” that kind of play with Leo, even though I’d like a rough play session.
Tonight, I just need Leo here with us.
Webothneed him here with us.
He pins my hands over my head and slants his lips across mine in a crushing kiss, late-day stubble on our cheeks lightly rasping against each other. Dropping his weight onto me, over my hips, he grinds against me and the friction of our clothes against my cock takes all the fight out of me and makes me moan.
Leo sits up and finishes unbuttoning my shirt, peeling it open and exposing my undershirt. Then he unfastens my cufflinks and leans over, stretching, to drop them on one of the nightstands. He gave the cufflinks to me last Christmas, a day collar I adore wearing.
Smiling, he yanks my shirttails out of my slacks and then catches both it and my undershirt at the hem and drags them up and over my head. He carelessly tosses them off the bed where I hear them hit the floor, unseen.
Immediately his fingers clamp onto my nipples, rolling and pinching them, and my eyes fall closed. It feels like every spare drop of blood in my body rushes straight to my cock, which now aches where it’s wedged under Leo’s weight.
