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Finally, the gates of the mansion came into view, and with a big sigh, he lowered his window and put in his security code. He parked under one of the carports Jesse had set up for them and hurried through the biting wind to the front door. It opened before he could even get his key from his pocket, and Roman stood there with a big grin. “Fucking finally.”
Then he was in Roman’s arms, his lips caught in a bruising kiss. Lips crashed together, tongues dueled, teeth grazed, a battle for dominance that both craved and neither won. Their kiss was a reclaiming, a collision of hunger and relief. Roman tasted like coming home—dark coffee and cinnamon, an intoxicating blend that seared through Caleb’s senses.
Somehow, they managed to get inside and close the door, but Caleb lost his duffel as Roman dragged him up the stairs. Not that Caleb protested.
“Is that you, Caleb?” Wander called out.
“Later!” Roman yelled back, and laughter and catcalls erupted from down the hall. Caleb couldn’t care less.
The world faded, and nothing mattered but Roman’s touch, the heat of his body through the layers of fabric. They stumbled their way to Roman’s bedroom, their mouths still fused. Roman’s unyielding grip was like an anchor in this crazy storm threatening to drown Caleb.
They crossed the threshold of Roman’s bedroom, and the door clicked shut behind them, sealing them away from the world outside. Finally, Roman let him go, and they stood opposite each other, chests heaving, eyes dark with want, and lips swollen.
Roman cupped Caleb’s cheek and brushed his lips with his thumb. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
Caleb’s heart fluttered. “Thank you, Sir.”
“And how I have missed hearing that word from you. Say it again.”
“Sir. You’re my Sir.”
“Yes, I am. Now…” Roman swallowed. “Present yourself to me.”
Caleb had never undressed so quickly, flinging his clothes onto the ground in a way that would’ve earned him punishment from any other Dom, but Roman didn’t seem to care, only watched Caleb with hungry eyes. When he finished, he sank to his knees in a fluid motion. He bowed his head, clasped his hands behind his back, and offered himself to his Dom, putting himself at Roman’s mercy.
21
Roman had missed him. Six days since Roman had last seen him, touched him, commanded him. It had been six days too long.
Seeing Caleb had only driven that point home. Not that the constant pangs of longing during the week hadn’t been evidence enough that Roman was far, far deeper into this thing with Caleb than he’d imagined. But watching Caleb now as he knelt in front of him, his posture one of absolute surrender, Roman experienced a maelstrom of emotions.
Longing. Need. Desire. And something much softer, much more tender.
He wanted to fuck him but also kiss him until they ran out of breath. Create marks on his skin but also hold him and take care of him. Dominate him but also be his equal. Hurt him…and cherish him.
Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was happening? He didn’t recognize himself anymore. From a man known for having few emotions, he’d grown into this guy who had so many feelings he couldn’t tell them apart.
He’d have to figure it out later. Right now, he finally had his—boy? sub? partner?—back, and he wasn’t gonna waste time by getting lost in his head. The air thickened with every ragged breath they shared. Roman drank in Caleb’s form, every inch of his being yearning toward the lean lines of his body, the subtle strength coiled in his stillness, the sweetness of his surrender.
“Look at you…” Roman’s voice was laced with a hunger that surprised him.
Caleb didn’t move a muscle, too well-trained to respond. The power burst free inside Roman. He needed to…
“Open your mouth,” he said. “Raise your head and open your mouth.”
Caleb didn’t hesitate, and Roman unbuckled with lightning speed and took his throbbing cock out. Another time, he would take it slow, but right now, he couldn’t. His need was too strong, so he sank his cock into that wet heat. His hands sought Caleb’s hair, which was no longer there. Instead, he grabbed Caleb’s head and held it as he fucked his mouth.
“Fuck, yes…” Roman gripped Caleb’s skull tighter. The grip was a lifeline as much as it was a claim. Caleb’s throat, a velvet vise, welcomed him further, challenging Roman’s restraint.
Roman’s breath held in his chest as Caleb worked him with a fervor that was almost religious. There was no hesitation in Caleb’s movements, no protest on his lips, only the slick sounds of his mouth and the gasps that spilled out whenever Roman gave him a moment to catch his breath. Caleb looked up at Roman with eyes half-lidded with pleasure and an intensity that spoke volumes.
“Good boy,” Roman praised him, and the words that had seemed so cliché and maybe even corny now acquired a new meaning. Caleb was his good boy. And those words weren’t empty praise. They were a seal of ownership, an acknowledgment of their dynamic. Caleb had earned the right to be called that.
Caleb’s face lit up, proving how right Roman had been, as he eagerly continued to suck Roman off. Roman felt the pull, the seductive dance of power and surrender, and knew without a doubt that he was lost to this man, this moment, this new part of himself. This wasn’t temporary. This was who he was. This was where he was meant to be. Here, in the grip of something that terrified him and entranced him at the same time, he’d found a missing piece of himself.
He bucked his hips, thrusting into the warmth of Caleb’s mouth with abandon. Each movement was more forceful than the last, a primal rhythm driven by need. The sharp scent of arousal mingled with the musky undertones of their bodies—a heady mix that fueled the fire raging within him. Caleb was his to direct, to use, to possess.
God, he loved this, loved how Caleb let him chase the edge of control, loved the way submission painted itself across the younger man’s features, loved the power. It was intoxicating, a heady rush that made his heart pound and his body sing with a primal satisfaction he’d never known. The awareness of his role as Dom, or maybe of who he was, thrummed through his veins like an electric current, demanding more, craving the dominance he had only glimpsed in his darkest fantasies.
