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I stand there, breathing heavily, wondering if I should call time out. Julian waived blood and fluids when he first signed up at The Cellar, and so did I, though I’ve always used rubbers as Romeo. It was part of the look, those black, shiny condoms.
Still. I’ve never drawn blood during a session before.
The look in his eyes changes from predatory to puzzled. He takes a step closer to me, looking me up and down with admiration. I’d be a fool to let him get any closer, but I do; I watch him take step after step until he stands right before me, his hands rising slowly to my chest, mouth slightly open. His tongue flicks out to taste his blood and desire flares in my gut.
I grab his wrists, hard, and his eyelashes flutter. “I’m tired of fighting,” he whispers, his voice low and full of promise. “I won’t hurt you if you won’t hurt me.”
“Bullshit.”
“I can be good, I swear.” He lets his hands go limp in my grip and he looks up at me with an intensity that makes my head spin. If I let him go he could easily turn on me again, and I’m not so stupid as to trust his promises.
But I’ve observed Julian Castellani for a long, long time. I know how he fights. I know how he wins. And I know how to make him lose, if it comes down to it.
He moves closer until we’re almost touching. His breath is warm against my face and power radiates off of him. He was right, what he said before.
I’m really fucking into him.
“I can be good,” he murmurs again, and I know he isn’t just promising not to hurt me, but something more. He wants to be good forme. He wants what only I—what only Romeo—can give him. “I’ll do anything you want me to do. Anything at all.”
I’m torn between kissing him and throwing him against the wall. But his lips part slightly and I’m lost, my resolve wavering under the promise of what he could give me if only I let him go…
My fingers relax around his wrists and a tiny smile curls his lips as he takes a step back from me. His eyes remain locked on mine as he slowly kneels on the floor and reaches out to the leather strings that secure my pants over my crotch.
But I come to my senses, just as that long-fingered hand is about to pluck it open, and I grab his wrist. “I’m not looking to get neutered.”
He pouts. “Come on. We’re over that. We’ve moved on. Don’t you feel it?”
“I do feel it. But again, not looking to have my dick bitten off.” I pull him up to his feet.
“Then tie me up.” He smiles again, a seductive flirt.
“Seems to me that tying you up doesn’t guarantee anything, either,” I point out.
“Oh, I’m sure you could find a way to incapacitate me.” He says it in exactly the same tone as he says everything else designed to entice.
I exhale slowly. Icouldresist…but why should I? “Yeah,” I say finally, “I could.”
He gives a wicked grin. “Then do it.”
I push him backward until we’re standing at the hanging cuffs in the middle of the room. They’re similar to the sling in the corner, but attached to a chain looped over a hook in the ceiling. They’re strong enough to support my weight, so I know they’ll definitely support Julian.
Slowly, alert for any little movement, I pull his hands up over his head, slip the cuffs on him, tighten them until he’s on his toes, and then step back to watch as he tests them, his lips twitching in amusement. “Now what?”
He thinks he’s still in control. Maybe he is. I’m not dumb enough to think that just because his hands are out of action, he can’t kill me some other way.
But I do have an advantage.
I lean in close. “Now we’ll see who’s in charge.”
Lust stains his cheeks pink and he presses his lips to mine. I let myself fall into him, the taste of him overwhelming me. His lips are soft and warm as he kisses me back, his tongue exploring my mouth with disarming gentleness. I feel my control slipping away. If I don’t break away soon, I won’t be able to.
But I don’t want to.
I slide my hands up his arms, feeling the strength beneath the skin. His muscles tense and he leans into me, begging for more. But then he pulls away, breathing hard. “You,” he says, his voice thick, “aregoing to kill me, aren’t you?”
I’m not the type of man to lie to anyone. Not even someone as dangerous as Julian Castellani. “Yes,” I tell him. “I am.” I wait a moment, just to see how he’ll take it, but he only seems to get more turned on. “But not tonight,” I finally concede. “Not tonight.”
“In that case,” he says softly, “I won’t kill you tonight, either.”
