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“Don’t bother, baby,” he murmured. “It doesn’t suit you. And it’s not what I want anyway.”
I lifted my chin again and met his tired eyes. There wasn’t any real lust in them, and I could see from the front of his blue jeans that he wasn’t getting hard.
“Get up.”
I rose, and he grabbed hold of my hands, leading me to the bed. “Pants off. Lay down.”
I obeyed and collapsed in the middle of the mattress on my back, chewing on the fabric in my mouth as I waited to see what he’d do next. Gazing up at the ceiling, I noticed the white, blank expanse wasn’t very sensual. I decided to get a canopy for the bed or maybe drape some dark fabric to make it less stark.
“Pay attention,” Minty murmured. He hadn’t raised or hardened his voice at all, but there was nothing timid about hiscommands either.
I turned my head toward him and saw that he’d stripped off his own clothes too. He wasn’t erect, but he looked gorgeous as ever with his pale limbs, blond pubes, and rosy nipples and cock. He crawled onto the bed, soft cock bouncing, and straddled my hips, letting his balls drop onto my semi-hard dick.
“Hands up. Touch the headboard.”
I complied, and he nodded. “Keep them there. Don’t move your hands away. No matter what I do.”
I nodded.
Minty reached up and pulled the shirt out of my mouth. “I want to hear you,” he said. “Be loud.”
I cleared my throat before speaking. “Any rules about what I can say, Sir?”
He shrugged. “Say whatever you want. Just don’t move your hands.”
“Yes, Sir.”
His next move wasn’t that different from when we were upstairs in my bedroom. He slid down on top of me, rubbing against my chest hair and rutting his cock next to mine until we both got hard. I wanted to reach out and take hold of him, move him to a position that would get me off better, but I kept my hands on the headboard, letting him do what he wanted.
“I really like the beard,” he said quietly, leaning forward to stroke his cheek against my new growth. “It’s sexy.”
“Thanks.”
He sat up again, pressing his ass against my cock. His dick hadn’t softened, but as he stared down at me, storms brewed in his eyes.
“Is there a problem, Sir?” I asked.
He sighed, touching my face, running his fingers through my beard. “The problem is I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You don’t have to.”
Groaning, he covered his face with his hands. “I thought this would work, but…”
“It’s not,” I surmised.
He shook his head, flopping over onto the mattress next to me. Resting on his side, he trailed a hand through my chest hair. I kept my arms raised to the headboard because he hadn’t said to take them down, and no one had called out of the scene yet.
“I think I was wrong. I don’t think I’m Dom material.”
“There are a lot of ways to be dominant. You don’t have to hurt me or choke me, or do anything painful at all. You could tickle me, or just make me lay here with my hands up for a while. You could make me sing Ave Maria in a Scottish accent. You could ask me to suck you off or play with your nipples. As your sub, I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”
He nodded, his brow furrowing. “I don’t know what I want.” He huffed. “Isn’t that the problem with me anyway? I never know what I want.”
“You wanted to try this. You were sure of that earlier. So, maybe tonight just isn’t the right night. It’s been a long day, and maybe you just need me to give you a massage and take you up to bed.”
“A massage?”
I nodded.
