Page 23 of On Your Knees

“So this is where you want to be?” My voice is cold, colder than I want, but I can’t help it. When Levi doesn’t reply, I demand, “Answer me: this is where you want to be right now? Instead of where you were.”

“I just… felt like I should go.”

“Because you were scared of me?”

Again, there’s no reply, so I go stalking toward him. Finally—fucking finally—he really looks at me. But it only lasts for a second. When I’m close enough to touch him, he looks away. He tries to anyway. I catch his face and force him to meet my gaze.

“Were you scared of me?” I ask again.

His reply is quiet but sure. “No.”

“But you were upset. Because you came?”

His eyes squeeze shut. He tries to pull away, but I don’t let him.

“That’s what you were supposed to do,” I tell him sharply. “You did it beautifully.”

His eyes open, showing me a vulnerability, a tender, frightened hope, that melts all the cold from my body. Heat suffuses me, and though there’s still anger in it, it’s different from before. It’s something I can control.

Levi senses the difference. I can feel it in his body as my hand slides down from his jaw to rest lightly on his throat. He relaxes just enough to talk to me.

“But you didn’t,” he says in a rough voice that tells me this is hard for him. “It wasn’t the same for you. It was just me.”

“That’s what bothered you so much? You didn’t think I responded, so you didn’t think I wanted you?”

He swallows hard. I feel it against my hand, and it’s answer enough.

I find myself relaxing. I rub his jaw with my thumb and tell him, “I didn’t want to scare you. I could tell it was new for you.”

When his eyes slide away from me, I squeeze his throat lightly to bring them back. I’m in enough control now to trust myself with force, to manage how much I use.

I tell him, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your body is perfect, and it did exactly what it was supposed to. But…”

I stall, debating whether he’s ready for this—and whether I am. But, God, the way he’s looking at me. So open. So receptive.

I confess, “Things are more complicated for me.”

With my free hand, I pop the button of my jeans and pull down the zipper. It sparks no fear in Levi’s eyes. He wants to look down, so I release his throat, letting him glimpse, in the opening of my jeans, my cock in its cage. I’m not wearing underwear, only the metal. The light is dim, but it’s enough to reveal my dick pressing against the long, curving bars.

“Wha…” Levi’s voice fades on a breath, then he tries again. “What is that?”

“It’s a cock cage. It keeps me from getting hard.”

“But… why?”

“So I can focus on the art. So I can focus on you.”

“Does it hurt?”

With his face tilted down, I can’t see his expression, but he’s riveted. Does he want it to hurt me? Is he a sadist too?

“A little,” I admit. “When I’m aroused like this.”

Levi’s eyes flick halfway up, like he’s going to look at my face, but he can’t get his eyes off my dick. He licks his lips. I wonder if he wants to touch me.

He says, “I don’t understand.”

“I’m not a good person, Levi. You’re not safe with me.” He still doesn’t understand, so I get blunt, “If I took this off, I would fuck you and I would hurt you. I’m trying to be careful.”