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“Maybe that’s why we clicked?”
“Could be… Anyway, I’m sorry for interrupting you.”
”Yeah, well. Alex is pushing me to do something I don’t want. That’s a hard limit for me.”
“And to think that I took you for a wallflower at the bar.” A roar of laughter greets my words. We laugh until he freezes at my next inappropriate question. “Who’s Silas?”
His eyes glisten, and his mouth trembles.
“My first.”
CHAPTER12
STRONG
Ash
“Idon’t need help in the kitchen,” Aunt Marta claims one day, assuring me that her two younger daughters are sufficient for the task. As much as I love my uncle’s family, their views on “traditional” roles rub me the wrong way, and I can’t help but wonder if, deep down, my sexual orientation is an issue for them. Not that I intend to share my daily activities with Silas that started after a massive party that Tom organized. Spring break turned out to be my sexual awakening.
“Open.” Silas’s fingers run through my damp, tangled waves. I’m at peace. We just got back from an early-morning surf session, and everyone in his house is sound asleep. Still, he directed me to the downstairs powder room rather than his en-suite. I don’t dare move, although my knees ache against the cold tile. His grip tightens, and I brace myself for what’s to come. Pleasure. “That’s it. Good boy,” he reassures me as I take him to the back of my throat with teary eyes, to the point of choking. Pain. “Don’t you dare touch yourself until I say so.” Power. I wouldn’t have been capable of multitasking anyway. I relish our dynamics, which were established without an argument. Giving. Taking. Receiving. He knew that I was a clueless but willing apprentice. I knew that he was a demanding but caring teacher. We knew we were an in-sync but unlikely pair. To say that Tom was stunned when stumbling upon us kissing at the party was the understatement of the year… I hope he won’t ever bring it up; I used to confide in him, but my cousin was never privy to the intense pleasure and debauchery that Silas and I shared.
Entering the now familiar place that’s dimly lit by dozens of tapered candles, I’m flattered by Alex’s possessive gaze on me and the atmosphere. Alex isn’t the romantic type, but he knows that I enjoy it on occasion, so once in a while, he indulges me. And here I thought he planned to reprimand me for my friendship with Nino.
What did I do to deserve a reward, though?Forgetting my place, I dare to meet his eyes.
“Ashton,” he warns and leads the way.What was I thinking?
“I apologize.” I rarely call him sir outside of the bedroom.
“That’s better… Good boy. Follow me.” His voice is unsettlingly playful. I wonder why he spent hours to slick down his hair—a look he typically reserves for work.What is up with him?
I mull over his odd mood and my resulting discomfort that has nothing to do with the punishment that will follow dinner; I’m eager for it, unless it’s as misplaced as I fear. I could be mistaken, but Alex has reacted to Nino’s visit with disapproval and possible resentment. He can’t seriously be jealous of the friendship I forged with the man who saved my life! I refuse to grant him control of my clothes and friends as he does my reading and TV viewing.
I may be Alex’s submissive and aim to please others more than myself, but I’m far from spineless. My parents always encouraged me to speak my mind, which is why I came out to them so openly… although it was still difficult because I stupidly thought that they’d be disappointed.
I can’t believe that Alex denied me while Nino was in the city for about a week, only to schedule a dinner date the weekend after his departure. The last surprise was our late June trip to Bali. I doubt it went as he expected since we don’t share an apartment, despite his renewed insistence on Labor Day Weekend.
What we have works, so why change it?
I abide by certain rules. Rules that I find freeing. Rules that we discussed. Rules that Alex sometimes refers to as lenient.
Damn, I need the bliss that our rules provide. It quiets my spinning head and erases my shitty workweek. Many think that personal styling sounds fun and basically equals “earning a living doing brainless shopping.” Well, the personal shopping clients aren’t the issue, my new boss, Sebastian Silverstone, who confuses managing and bullying, is. I simply hope that Alex will treat me to a bunch of orgasms; while we were apart, he only allowed me to touch myself once while we were on Zoom… but adamantly withheld my release.
He halts at the threshold to the dining room, and I skid to a stop. What greets me increases my distress. First, even with my eyes on my feet, I can tell that the room’s poorly lit. Second, light classical music fills the expansive rectangular room, although he prefers to eat in complete silence. Third, I feel a presence. Scraping the tip of my shoe along the hardwood floor, I hurriedly glance up to see if I’m imagining things. A caterer sets plates on the table with a flourish.
Wow, fancy!
And that’s when I register that there’s an extra plate, and a baritone voice startles me. “Good evening.” My eyes widen. So much for a romantic surprise! How could I have misinterpreted the situation?
My eyes meet those of a well-groomed man. He nods and pushes away from the table to switch on the lights. His tall frame that’s packed with lean muscle is outfitted in semi-formal clothes that contrast his self-assured demeanor. This guy oozes sex. His overbearing presence stresses me out. The stranger’s inquisitive eyes appraise me. I can’t tear my eyes from his, spellbound by his regal posture.
Once the caterer disappears, I turn to Alex, who’s standing to my left. Why did it take me so long to notice that he’s overdressed for what he referred to as a casual dinner? I worry my lower lip because of my worn jeans and vintage sweater. “Oh, I had no idea we’d be having company.” In the two years I’ve known Alex, he’s never shared me or had a guest. I look back down. My mouth is suddenly parched; I bite the tip of my tongue for moisture.
“Manners.”
Right! I apologize and wait for Alex to introduce me to the Mediterranean-looking man. Dark hair and eyes. Tanned skin. Sinful mouth. In a flash, he’s standing in front of me, giving me a firm handshake. My pulse accelerates under his touch.
“Jason, this is Ashton, my submissive.” He beams with pride.
