Crawford hesitated. He wasn’t sure what he was looking to get from the exchange, but it was rare that he was so candid—especially with a submissive. Owen, his fledgling, needed guidance. Crawford knew it, and yet he still found himself weakening to him from a simplecorrespondence.
Then why don’t we meet early?Owen asked.My week is free from five o’clock onward. We could see eachother.
You’re notready.
I have never felt more ready inmylife.
The confidence was still there—Crawford wasn’t sure if he’d ever break it. Owen was quick to drop his gaze and follow commands, but he hadn’t become a counselor by batting his eyelashes and bargaining with Stonecrest HR. Owen was educated, intelligent, and driven. His spirit was like green wood—pliant, but sturdy. Eager to clingtolife.
Crawford wanted to keep itthatway.
You’re in bedrightnow?
Yes.
With the lights on?Crawford turned his head to look out the window. It was dark. Cloud coverage obscured the stars andthemoon.
One light ison.Why?
I want you to take pictures of yourself.Crawford started to harden, and he shifted his thighs to try to move his length into a more comfortable position.If you’re not shirtless already, take off your shirt before you take thepicture.
Owen’s reply was not instant. Crawford laid his phone on his chest and reached for his drink. His throat was dry and his fingers itched for somethingtodo.
When at last his phone buzzed, he set the drink down and picked his phone back up. The newest reply was a picture message—a bare chest. Small pink nipples laid flush with pale skin. Owen was slender but toned. His bedsheetswereblue.
I want you to play with your nipples. Getthemhard.
Once more, there was no immediate response. Crawford sucked in a breath and waited. Arousal crept through him, building in his balls and stiffening his length to its full potential. By the time Owen sent him a reply, Crawford was already looseninghisbelt.
On the screen was an image of Owen’s chest just as it had been before, only this time Owen’s fingers pinched at his erect nipple. Crawford huffed out a breath and slid his hand beneath his fly, grasping hislength.
Look how pretty they are, pet. You’rebeautiful.
If I keep doing this I’m going to get hard. I’m already so sensitive. CanIstop?
Crawford closed his eyes and tilted his head back in delight. To imagine Owen, nude and in bed, moaning in need while his caged cock denied him satisfaction was almost more than he could take. He pumped himself to the thought, breath quick andshallow.
A littlelonger.
Owen replied with another picture. This one was shot at a different angle, pointed down his chest so Crawford could see everything. Owen’s hand still played with his nipple, but this time his flat stomach was arched with pleasure. Crawford saw the slightest hint of light brown pubic hair and the glint of stainless steel before the rest disappeared beneath thesheets.
Owen wasteasinghim.
You’re going to go into the kitchen, Crawford wrote.In the kitchen, you’re going to open the freezer. If you have an ice cube, I want you to take it and work it in circles around your pec until it meets your nipple. Then I want you to take a picture. If you don’t have an ice cube, I want you to take whatever you have that’s frozen and dothesame.
I’llcome.
You won’t. You’ll be goodforme.
Was Owen really wound so tight that he’d come from nipple stimulation alone? Crawford pictured Owen’s seed dripping through the bottom of the cage, spilling onto the kitchen floor. He pumped himselfharder.
He didn’t need to touch Owen to get him to come. The power in that realization wasintoxicating.
The pause was the longest yet. As he waited, Crawford imagined the scene in his mind. Owen, writhing in pleasure as he tried to pull himself back from orgasm while ice melted against his skin. The soft, desperate gasps he’d make would break the silence in the kitchen. The sound of his whimpers would ring out loudly as his cock throbbed against its confines and spat despite his bestattempts.
Crawford knew if Owen disobeyed, he’d be honest. There was little bonding them together for now, butCrawfordknew.
Owen wasalreadyhis.
