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Aled nearly tripped over his own feet as he crossed the square. He sucked in a breath, face going pink and hot against the cold afternoon, and let the lust of those few words swirl through him.
He needed to play properly with Jamie again. He ached for it, and he knew Jamie did, too. The kind of connection that was forged between two people when they played with pleasure and pain was heady and addictive, and he hadn’t taken a hit for so long.
“You might not say that when I have you splayed wide and restrained by those lovely hooks at the top of your bedposts, back and arse red and bruised from that studded flogger, while I fist that tight ass of yours until you cry.”
He hit send, then immediately regretted it.
“No, no, no,” he said aloud, racing to type another message to undo what he was sure was a hell of a lot of damage from that first one. Jamie had never mentioned anything about fisting. It was a hard limit for a lot of people and not something you just casually threw into sex or conversation.
“That was over the line,” he texted. “I got carried away. Sorry.”
He hit send, but a series of dots had already appeared in the chat window. They disappeared for a moment, probably as Jamie read his second message, then appeared again.
Then came the reply. “I will submit to whatever you want to do to me. All of it.”
Aled steadied his breathing as he stared at the words on his phone. Even when he wasn’t there, Jamie could turn him on and make him feel so powerful and…safe. Because, yeah, there was something that inspired incredible amounts of confidence when a man like Jamie told you he’d let you shove your entire fist in his arse if you wanted to.
Aled wasn’t sure he wanted to—well, he did, but he was still coming to terms with that want—but knowing it was on the table did things to him. That sort of trust was…there weren’t words for it. Maybe that was why Kit had been so adamant about him dipping his toe in the kink community. It wasn’t about the control of inflicting pain on people so he could get off, it was learning trust and stripping away things that didn’t matter to get to the heart of himself and his partner.
“Good boy,” he replied to Jamie with a smile, walking on. Then, in a different message, he changed tone and said, “In all seriousness, I would like to play properly soon. Think we could get away for a bit this weekend? Even if getting away is just to your flat?”
Again, Jamie replied almost immediately with, “Yes, Sir.”
Aled grinned like a ninny at Jamie’s reply. God only knew what just about everyone else in the world would think of his and Jamie’s relationship, but it made him happy, happier than he could remember himself being in years. It really did feel like he was moving on from the trauma of his past and making his own life, a life unique to him, for the future.
That joy was still pulsing in him, and he was still staring at his phone, when he bumped shoulders with a man walking in the other direction on the path through the square.
“Sorry,” he said by rote, then glanced up and over his shoulder to find Ronny glaring back at him.
Ronny stopped as soon as he recognized Aled, and for a moment, the two of them just stood there, the air between them sparking.
“You,” Ronny said, changing his mind about wherever he’d been headed and striding back to Aled. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Before he could stop to think about the wisdom of confronting Jamie’s ex, Aled said, “I’m a student here. What are you doing here?”
Ronny’s eyes widened at Aled’s admission he was a student. “What do you mean, you’re a student here?”
Something was off. Ronny was giving off all sorts of dangerous signals, like he was trying to dominate him.
“I mean, I’m enrolled at the Royal University of London,” Aled said.
Ronny squared his shoulders, like he was attempting to tower over Aled. “And what are you studying?”
The urge to snap some sort of reply like, “It’s none of your business, you’re not in charge of me,” was strong, but Aled pushed it aside. If Ronny wanted to challenge him, then he could do it as an equal.
“Psychology,” he said, staring back at Ronny as if acknowledging everything that implied, specifically, that he knew Jamie was a professor there.
Ronny drew in a slow breath, and his eyes burned with knowing. “He’s still mine, you know,” he said in a low, calm, threatening voice. “We’re not through yet, we’re just on pause.”
Aled adjusted his stance to slip his phone into his pocket, cross his arms, and generally meet Ronny stubbornness for stubbornness. “I think Jamie would disagree with you.”
Ronny laughed and tossed his head a little, glancing off to the side as if Aled were ridiculous before glaring at him again. “Jamie doesn’t know what he wants,” Ronny said. “Don’t let his age or his job fool you. He’s still a confused little boy who likes to be told what to do.”
Prickles raced down Aled’s back. Ronny spoke as though he knew more about Jamie than Aled did. Honestly, he probably did, since the two of them had been together for years while Aled and Jamie had just gotten together. But the length of time you knew someone didn’t necessarily mean you knew them at heart, it just meant you’d committed to what you thought you knew about them.
“All I know is that you and Jamie aren’t together anymore,” Aled said. “Jamie is with me now, and while, yes, it’s new, we’re finding our way together and liking what we have and where it’s going.”
Ronny laughed and shook his head. “You’re cute. So young and naïve.”
