Page 20 of On Your Knees

I close my eyes, trying to drive the memory off, but the darkness behind my eyelids makes me hyperaware of my body. The heat building in it. The heaviness settling in my groin. It’s the same heaviness I felt when Ethan pulled down my pants, when the waistband grazed my cock, when he squeezed his eyes shut just like I’m doing now.

I shift on the couch as blood flows, unmistakably, to my cock. My eyes pop open, and I stare down at myself, shocked and horrified to find that my dick is visibly fattening. I watch, stunned, as it stiffens enough to lift slightly from where it should be resting against my balls. My muscles tighten like I’m going to spring off the couch and run.

“Levi.”

My eyes jump to Ethan. His gaze is steady, locking me to him even as my chest starts heaving. I can feel my dick stiffening more with every second.

“Just let it happen,” Ethan orders in a low, rasping voice.

My breathing is so loud that I can hear myself. I bite my bottom lip to try to be quieter, like somehow that will make my erection less obvious when I’m sitting here naked with my legs open. I can’t believe this is happening. The dream, at least, was private. But this…

Oh my God.

“It’s completely natural,” Ethan tells me in a tone that says my panic is obvious. “It’s beautiful, Levi. You are beautiful, and I want to see.”

I make a sound that feels like protest and disbelief and some kind of desperate, frightened need that I don’t really understand. Ethan just watches me, and it makes even more blood pump to my cock. My stomach starts contracting, making my dick twitch upward, rising and falling, lifting higher each time.

“Hnh,” I grunt helplessly as it gets so stiff that it flicks up and smacks my abdomen. I stare down at it.

Oh my fucking God!

Ethan snaps, “Eyes on me.”

My eyes jump up again to find a dark, dangerous look in his. Instead of scaring me, that look calms me down. It centers me. It gives me something to yield to.

My breathing settles. I stop panicking.

Ethan’s eyes never leave me. He rasps, “That’s it. Just relax and let it happen.”

He turns the page of his sketchbook and starts working again. He’s drawing me like this, with my cock hard, standing up against my abdomen. My legs are still open. My arousal is on full display.

It’s beautiful. You are beautiful, and I want to see.

I’m lightheaded and feel somehow both inside and outside of my body. I can’t quite believe that this is me, and yet I feel everything. I feel hot and electric and desperate for something. I felt that in my dream too. Ethan was stroking me then, but it had a phantom quality to it because nothing was actually touching me. Nothing is touching me now.

Usually when I get hard, I don’t experience the progression. I just wake up that way sometimes, like if I didn’t come in my sleep, and it’s basically pressure and restlessness, and I jack off to get rid of it.

This is different. I feel like I need something so badly that I’ll die without it, but my mind can’t fully accept what that something is.

I try to hold still, but I find myself squirming again. My hand twitches toward my dick.

“Don’t touch it,” Ethan says with a warning in his tone.

What’s the warning? What would he do if I disobeyed?

I think about the shackles and collars and the chains on the walls. Would he punish me? Would he care enough to force me?

Would he bind me, slap me… choke me?

Precum leaks onto my abs. I can’t help looking down. My dick looks so foreign like this: stiff and flushed and threaded with veins.

“Eyes on me,” Ethan reminds me.

I obey, but instead of getting locked on his eyes, I find myself looking at more of him. The veins of his hands and forearms. The strong tendons of his neck. The clean line of his jaw and that subtle cleft in his chin.

I’m attracted to him, I realize abruptly. I’m attracted to him and have been from the beginning.

I didn’t recognize it at first because I’ve never felt attraction before. But I want to look at his face. I want to look at his body.