“It’s not wrong,” Cruz said. “What’s happening here… it’s not wrong. It could never be wrong.”
I managed a nod that I wasn’t feeling, but not surprisingly, he called me on it. “It doesn’t make you weak or disgusting or a freak.”
I flinched at that and turned my eyes away from him. But he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him again. “Who?” he asked. “Who told you it was wrong?”
“No… no one.”
“Who?” he asked again.
I knew then that I was fighting a losing battle. And despite the fact that my lust had cooled somewhat, it was still there, simmering right below the surface.
“My first boyfriend.”
“What did he say?”
“Cruz—”
“What did he say, Elliot?”
I was a goner when his hand slipped down to my throat. Shamecrawled through me. “I… I always had trouble getting off with him. One day as he was… as we were…”
“Fucking,” Cruz supplied.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling foolish for not even being able to say the word. “He was behind me and I asked him… I asked him to hold me down by the back of the neck. He put his hand on my neck, but it wasn’t hard enough. I could still…”
I shook my head because I just couldn’t say the words out loud.
“Move,” Cruz said.
I nodded.
“You couldn’t let go,” he added.
I could feel the tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “When I asked him to hold me harder, he got mad. He said I was a freak for being into that kind of shit. But I didn’t… I wasn’t…”
Cruz sighed and said, “Did you explain to him that you weren’t asking him to cut off your air?”
I nodded. “I tried to tell him that it wasn’t like that, but he wouldn’t listen. Said I need to find some other sick fuck to do that shit to me. I think he thought… that I wanted… God, fuck,” I whispered harshly. I tried to pull free of Cruz’s hold as the humiliation washed over me, but he refused to let me go.
“He thought you wanted to play out a rape fantasy,” Cruz murmured.
“I didn’t!” I practically shouted. “I know some people like that, but that isn’t it—”
Cruz kissed me long and hard. “I know that, and I know you aren’t looking for breath play, either. You want to just be able to feel. You want someone to take away that noise in your head for a while.”
“He was right,” I whispered.
“He was a fool,” Cruz shot back, his voice tipped with anger. “What you want isn’t wrong, Elliot. Just like it isn’t wrong that I think it’s fucking beautiful. Let me prove it to you.” He kissed me again, gently, almost reverently. I kissed him back and hoped it was answer enough.
He released my throat only long enough to pin my arms over myhead with one hand before he returned his other hand to my neck. He kissed me hard as he applied just the right amount of pressure to my windpipe. The fear of failure instantly drained from my body and I drew on the strength of his fingers that were pressing into my skin. I had no idea how long he kissed me for, but my lust came rushing back to the surface within seconds. When I began squirming against him to try to brush our cocks together, he growled one simple order that had my dick leaking in my pants.
“Don’t.” When I instantly stopped moving, he continued, “Elliot, if at any time you want me to stop, you simply say the word stop. Do you understand?”
I nodded because I knew what he was doing, why he was bringing it up. It was a safe word. The very fact that he felt the need to have one both excited and humiliated me.
“It’s only because I’m still learning what you need,” Cruz explained. “I know that isn’t the kind of relationship you’re looking for.”
The realization that he knew what I was thinking was both comforting and embarrassing. I’d never been drawn to the sexual lifestyle that included using pain to bring pleasure, and I had absolutely no desire to call Cruz sir or master or any other title that put a label on what we were doing.
