He’s asking me, not demanding it.
“Alright, little Lanny. I’ll show you the stars.”
It takes no effort to conjure illusion inside of me, and a few moments later, the room is shining. It’s less impressive here in the daylight, but it’s visible all the same. And as one bud of light traces his back, tickling his skin, his sated eyes open once more.
He peers around himself—as much as he can without moving, that is—and releases a pleased sigh.
“Perfect,” Landon mutters, his forehead rubbing gently against mine.
And then a moment later, he’s asleep.
Landon
14
I HAVE NOREALpreference on whether I’m dominated or dominating—both are fun, and the real joy comes from the struggle of it.
There is nothing more appealing than a man on my level, pushing and shoving as he tries to overcome me. The feeling of hot, calloused hands roughly running over my skin, of a strong man whimpering as you finally push inside, or trying not to come when they finally push intoyou.
Or, at least that’s what I thought. That is what I was convinced I liked more than anything up until about three months ago, when Nate locked up my cock and fucked a painful, overstimulating orgasm from my balls.
As it turns out, I like beingforcedinto submission. Sure, the triumph of winning such a fight is liberating, but having no choice but to surrender? Letting it all go after instigating over andover again?So. Fucking. Hot.
And if I’m being honest, so is the unfortunate reality that it’s hotter coming from him. Nate. The man who hates me, and whom I, in turn, loathe to my core.
You’d think that thestrugglingaspect would be the most appealing when beneath his hands, but there is something wild in those honey-brown, cat-like eyes of his when he finally has me where he wants me.
When Nate finally gets me to listen, he glows. It’s like some dangerous, primal part of him becomes so pleased thatIcan feel it. He becomes a bit frantic, a whole lot horny, and honestly—kind of nice.
Soft, gentle touches and calming words will leave him as I lie there, panting and sated. He’ll say things like,“That’s my good boy,”or“Have you finally learned your lesson, sweet Lanny?”and I’ll melt, nodding my head like a bitch in heat even though I just fucking came.
And the next time I see him again? We start all over; I antagonize and push his limits, he shit-talks me and sort of hurts my feelings, and then he fucks me until I listen to him again.
Then all the of the evil, vile things he whispered into my ear prior to my getting naked feel like foreplay rather than cruelty, and I find myself wanting to thank him for wringing me so dry.
I mean, I don’t, but I want to.
Sometimes, late at night when I’m all alone, I begin to wonder exactly who it is I’m hurting here with my seduction plan. Because at this point, with him visiting twice a month on the weekends and texting me to head over to his little hotel, I’m finding it hard to imagine this ending.
I still don’t even know why hedoestext me—why he calls me to him. The first time he locked up my cock and took my ability to speak, I passed out before he could say anything important. It felt almost as if the whole purpose of that exercise, of his visit,was to enforce his rule of monogamy, even though we aren’t dating.
And since then, in the six other trips he’s made to California, all we’ve done is fuck, fight, and sleep. He doesn’t ask me about coercion outside of inquiring if I’m stilllying low,whatever that means, and never questions me on anything personal.
I guess that means he’s really only interested in my body, but I can’t really bring myself to care. Not when he handles it so well, and once he’s gone, I find myself annoyed by his existence again.
I mean, the justice complex? His high sense of morality, which he appears to think makes him better than everyone else? The fact that he’s convinced that what he says is always correct, and basically law?
I couldneverbe with this guy outside of sex, even if sometimes, when he’s holding me after I come so hard I nearly black out, I let myself imagine it. Just briefly—before he goes back to annoying me.
So yes, my plan to destroy him with the only thing he cares about—my body—is absolutely still in place. It’s just… harder.
Especially today, as he’s supposed to be here right now andisn’t. He has come every other weekend without fail since the end of January, and what, now I’m supposed to say nothing as he ditches me?
No way. I may enjoy being shoved into submission more than I originally thought, but I don’t enjoy being toyed with.
If Nate won’t come to me, I’m going to him!
I send a message to my dad, informing him that I’ll be leaving the state again for the night. He’ll believe that I’m flying to see Julian, considering how much time we’ve spent together in thepast, but convincing Susie that nothing is amiss? That is much harder.
