James Scott has placed an ad in a local paper."Stern gentleman seeking young submissive man to guide and control. You will be cherished and restricted."
Peter has to reread that twice.
“Restricted?” Peter asks, afraid to hope. He wants to be caged. He wants a collar. He wants to know that Sebastian is taking this and them seriously.
He’s done a decent job keeping his desires to himself and tamping them down, but now they’re alive, crashing through him, and he’s so desperate to be owned that he might not survive it if this is all a misunderstanding.
Peter shoves to his feet, tempted to flee. If Sebastian isn’t going to cage or collar him, then he needs to know that now.
Sebastian holds out a hand, misunderstanding. “Wait. Careful, sweetheart. You have red. Don’t forget. You can say red or you can throw that note in the fire and we won’t go further. We’ll just keep having a conversation and then I’ll take you to bed and keep you there for as long as you’ll let me. But it’s your birthday and I’ve got a plan and presents. Do you want to know what my plan is?”
“Presents?” Peter repeats and is immediately swamped with shame at how much he wants presents and to be special.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Because it’s your birthday. I want to take care of you and give you what you need, don’t I?”
“I don’t know. This is too much. Maybe we shouldn’t.”
Sebastian frowns. “This is what I want for you. Aren’t you mine?”
“Yes, but?—“
“Then be mine. I want a good boy. This weekend, that’s what I need from you. I need you to take off your clothes by the fire and then kneel at my feet. I’m waiting, sweetheart.”
“I can’t do this. I’m a grown man?—“
“Not tonight. Tonight you’reHodge. You’re stranded in the middle of nowhere. You’re wet and shivering and you need to get undressed. You’ve had too much to drink. I’ve plied you with alcohol. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to. I won’t let you. I’m going to have you because I’m rich and avery bad man.”
Peter swallows hard. A very bad man. “What do bad men do with poor, stranded men?” Peter asks. He intends the question to be a joke. It comes out too strangled and earnest for that.
Peter has to decide now. Stay or go. Throw the note in the fire or not. “I’m not trying to be difficult. I swear. I just?—”
“Shh. I know. Let me show you.” Peter goes closer, heart pounding. Sebastian smiles at him. “Shirt off. It’s cold. You’re damp.”
“Was there ever going to be a party with people?” Peter asks, and if the answer is yes, then he’ll say red. Maybe not forever but for now. He is scared and it’s too much. But if Sebastian says no, if Sebastian knew him that well, then…
“No, honey. You’d have hated that,” Sebastian says.
Peter’s fingers tremble and he fumbles the buttons. There is so much emotion now and he has no idea what to do with all of it.
“Beautiful, sweetheart. Pants now,” he says.
Peter toes off his shoes and undoes his pants. He takes them off with his underwear, removes his socks, and puts the whole pile of clothes on the couch. He comes back over to Sebastian, kneels on the fur rug, and puts a hand on Sebastian’s leg.
“Good boy. It’s in my pocket. Go ahead now,” he says.
Peter pushes up to his knees and moves between Sebastian’s legs. He reaches a hand up to Sebastian’s jacket and slides his hand inside the fabric. Sebastian captures his hand. “If you like the present, you’re to say, ‘Thank you, Sebastian.’ If you don’t want it, then you tell me, ‘No, thank you.’ It’s fine either way. This is a bit of a gamble.”
He sets Peter's hand on the chair’s arm and lets go, tension in his hand. Peter's not used to seeing Sebastian tense.
Peter reaches into his pocket. Metal, warmed from Sebastian’s body, grazes his fingers. He knows what it is. He knows exactly what it is. He hesitates, staring at Sebastian’s lap.
“How did you know?” Peter whispers.
“Know what?”
“That I… want this.”
“Because you told me. I listened. I’ve been with you. I pay attention to my boy and what he likes.”
