He was under Joe’s control now. Worrying was Joe’s responsibility. There was only one thing Scott needed to do, and that was please Joe.
Arching his back, Scott pressed his body against Joe’s more muscular frame. He felt Joe’s erection through his jeans as he thrust against him. As wonderful as Joe’s clothes felt as they rubbed against his bare skin, rough and gorgeous and so very Joe, Scott couldn’t help but wish he was thrusting against bare skin instead.
Scott whimpered, a low needy sound that came from the very depth of his soul.
Joe slid his arms around Scott and held him even tighter. His hands were strong and confident against Scott’s back. When they grabbed hold of Scott’s arse, they were even better.
Scott imagined that Joe’s hands would leave beautiful red marks in their wake, just like the crop had the previous week. Until he’d been spanked—first by Joe’s bare hand, and then with the crop—Scott hadn’t realised how wonderful wearing a lover’s marks under his skin could be. Now, he longed for it to happen again and again.
As the seconds ticked by, Scott became vaguely aware that he was being led somewhere, but that wasn’t important enough to make him take any of his attention away from the kiss. They weren’t in a club where anything went. Joe probably wasn’t walking him out of his flat and into a public part of the building.
He was most likely taking him into his bedroom. Considering that was the only furnished room in the flat, Scott had to consider that a good thing.
And Scott’s guess was right. By the time Joe lifted his head and ended the kiss, they were standing in his bedroom. Scott looked from the rows of toys on the walls to the big double bed. The flat screen TV was gone.
Scott tried to focus on the remaining contents of the room. Nothing else had appeared to take the screen’s place, but the kit on the wall had to represent more than enough entertainment to last a lifetime.
Crops. Whips. Paddles.
Gags. Cuffs. Hoods.
Scott had no idea if Joe had anything particular in mind for them that evening, but he had complete faith in Joe being able to make it one of the most erotic nights of his life. He glanced up at Joe through his lashes.
For once, Joe didn’t rush to announce his plans. His expression remained unreadable. He didn’t say anything; he just stared down at Scott in return.
If Joe was looking for some particular bit of information to be offered up to him, Scott had no idea what it could be. Joe not instantly stepping up to the plate to take charge felt odd.
As one silent minute slipped into another, it seemed more and more like Joe was waiting for him to do or say something.
Scott took a deep breath. He had to at least try to give Joe something. Everything Joe had said about him beingmore confident and more certain his submission would be well received came back to the front of his mind.
“So,” Scott said, in as close to a flirtatious tone as he had ever managed in his life. “Are you g-going to screw me now?”
“No.” There was nothing flirtatious in Joe’s tone. He was all seriousness.
For several seconds, Scott was sure he had tripped over some unspoken rule that meant submissives weren’t supposed to ask questions like that.
Maybe it had sounded like he was demanding sex from Joe? Or perhaps it had seemed like he thought that he was the one who should decide what happened between them, and when? Scott’s heart raced faster and faster. Maybe—?
The thought died unfinished as Joe finally spoke up. “Tonight, Scottie, you’re the one who’s going to screw me.”
* * * * *
“I don’t want to be a dom!”
Joe had mentally prepared himself to deal with a few different reactions, but that was one he’d completely failed to anticipate. All the stress that had been building in him through the day dissolved.
Laughter bubbled up inside Joe, more from a combination of relief and the realisation that he’d been an idiot to imagine Scott would react in any other way, than from amusement, but it still felt wonderful to let it out.
Scott’s look of horror faded. A small, self-mocking smile appeared in its place. He joined in with Joe’s laughter. “You r-really had me g-g-going there! For a s-second I actually thought you were s-serious.”
“I was. I still am.”
Joe’s laughter trailed off into a chuckle before drawing to a perfectly natural conclusion. Scott’s laughter cut out as if something had pressed a mute button.
It was several seconds before Scott found the remote and was able to break the silence. “P-pardon?”
“I was serious,” Joe repeated. “And I still am—perfectly serious.” He stepped forward.
