Chapter 6
Testing the Waters
The drive took a while. Rune spent the whole time online, Googling Oliver’s name, learning everything he could. Oliver’s biography was listed on a few websites, identifying him as a journalist. Many stories came up with his name in the byline. There was nothing recent though, and no social media accounts came up, which was a little fishy.
Rune checked Grindr, found nothing.
So he kept digging, kept reading. He wanted to protect himself, get some ammunition to work with, but also wanted to fill the time to settle his nerves. Because he was in it now. No getting out. Either he’d just signed his ass over to a psychopath or at the very least, he was in for some super awkward encounters.
Because the silence was maddening. Oliver couldn’t sign. Couldn’t divert his attention from the road to type. They had few means of communicating, but Rune felt compelled to gather every means of self-defense he possibly could. The wrestling at Manse hadn’t been a joke or an act. It was imperative that Oliver understand he couldn’t expect Rune to roll over and beg for no reason. Trust and respect was crucial, but it also had to be earned.
Those signed papers meant Oliver could put Rune in chains, strip him down, fuck him dizzy and do any number of things to him. Sure, consent was key, and Rune had his safe sign, but even having David and Elet vouch for the guy didn’t really take Rune the whole way towards trusting his safety to the man behind the wheel.
He also still couldn’t figure out why someone like Oliver would want him anyway. His motives were in question.
Why take on a project like Rune? Why go to the trouble, when Manse was packed full of hot men who’d kill to suck Oliver’s dick and could hear every single command he’d give?
What the hell was Oliver getting out of all the hassle?
They pulled up to a huge old building that looked like it had once been a factory of some kind, and parked in one of a series of private garages along the side. Oliver cut the engine and reached for Rune’s bag. Rune smacked his hand away, but Oliver was determined. He didn’t let go and just stared Rune down until he gave up.
Blowing out a breath, Rune let Oliver take the bag and got out of the car.
Unable to quite believe where he was or what he was doing, he let Oliver guide him to a bank of elevators. Rune glimpsed enough in the lobby of the place to understand it had been renovated and was no longer functioning as a factory. So there was that, at least.
He felt the instinct take over to go deep into his head and detach. He didn’t even see what button Oliver pushed, or bother to check if he was trying to communicate at all.
The doors opened and Oliver stepped out. Rune trailed him to a door, which they went through, and into a space with brick walls, massive windows, steel and aluminum in the exposed ceilings, wood floors, leather furniture, high end finishes and more. For someone who’d been living in a dusty storage room, and otherwise was homeless and unemployed, it was slightly intimidating.
Mouth dry, struggling to swallow, Rune’s head spun.
He didn’t belong there. Standing in that immaculate place made him feel even more like a piece of shit.
He needed to hook Oliver. Show him the deal had been worthwhile. Rune also wanted to prove himself and establish his place.
Feeling more nervous than since before he’d trained at Manse, Rune tried to fake his way through it. Oliver set the bag down, then turned on some lights in the massive kitchen.
Rune walked over to him, staring at Oliver’s slightly exposed chest, trying to breathe normally. He put himself in Oliver’s personal space, inhaled the scent of Oliver’s skin and lack of cologne, nearly brushed his lips against the tan skin of Oliver’s neck and grabbed a fistful of his coat. Closing his eyes, he went for Oliver’s mouth.
A hand wrapping his jaw pushed him back.
Eyes springing open, Rune bit down on his back teeth and watched Oliver seem to struggle with what to do.
So Rune reached for Oliver’s crotch and palmed his bulge.
That hand got yanked away too.
A single word, mouthed carefully: Stop.
Oliver’s thumb brushed Rune’s lip, his eyes staring right there.
Growling, Rune fought the holds, which only made Oliver’s hand slip down to Rune’s throat. Oliver walked him back two steps to the brick wall, his expression washed over with sudden calm as he squeezed.
The air ran out, and Rune bucked reflexively. Oliver slipped a knee between Rune’s thighs, brought his arm up and around above his head, against the wall. His teeth scraped Rune’s lower lip. He licked, light and quick, over Rune’s top lip and kissed the end of his nose, then relaxed his hold on Rune throat.
Shaking his head slowly from side to side, Oliver held Rune still.
The moment drew out.
Then Rune fought back, trying to move, to break free. Oliver had to work to contain him, his effort showing in the flushed look of his face, the tendons standing out in his neck, and the strain of his muscles, but he managed to do it, no matter how hard Rune pushed back.
Oliver mouthed again: Stop.
Rune relaxed, stopped fighting. Slowly, Oliver let go, stepped back.
Rune charged him, knocking Oliver back into the counter’s edge, before sinking to his feet. He began sucking wide, obscene kisses to the hard bulge between Oliver’s legs, licking a wide stripe over the fabric.
Oliver’s hand locked under Rune’s jaw, pulled him up off the ground and to his feet. Rune winced at the pain, grabbing Oliver’s arm with both hands.
Oliver tossed him away. Frowning, he grabbed the duffel, then turned to walk towards a hallway through a living area carpeted with a thick, white rug.
Neck throbbing, Rune gathered all his will and ran, knocking into Oliver’s back, sending him flying awkwardly into a couch where he landed on his side. The bag dropped from his grasp as he moved to brace his fall. Wasting no time, Rune climbed on, straddling Oliver. He undulated down against him, showing Oliver he was hard, letting him feel it as his erection dragged against Oliver’s hip. At the same time, he scraped his teeth against Oliver’s neck, then sucked a kiss there.
Oliver threw them both sideways, rolling them onto the carpeted floor with a thud that drove some of the air from Rune’s lungs.
Dazed, Rune wasn’t able to stop Oliver from getting on top and pinning him more completely in place by his hips and both arms. Panting against Rune’s ear, Oliver showed him as he worked to calm down. His breathing slowed. His lips dragged against Rune’s jaw, causing Rune’s cock to twitch. He bit down on Rune’s earlobe, sending an extra jolt of pure pleasure.
Rune felt the sound get past his defenses—a whimper, a plea.
Oliver caught his eye, then kissed him hard, licking back into Rune’s mouth, forcing his jaw to open wide. Rune let Oliver use his mouth, tongues twisting, teeth scraping, lips teasing. By the time they broke, Rune was breathing hard, his need huge just to be had, owned, and claimed.
It all came to the surface, and Oliver stayed just far enough away to watch it, studying him, preventing Rune from sinking back into the kiss, or breaking free, or getting off. He was just trapped and seen, wound up and with no release in sight.
He just wanted it over. He wanted to stop thinking. Stop worrying. Stop fighting.
He wanted to know he hadn’t made a huge mistake. That he wasn’t worthless. That he wasn’t just a joke, good for a laugh, then thrown away in the garbage.
He wanted to show the rich man to whom he’d pledged his obedience, who had no way to know what Rune was so fucking scared of, that he could still make it feel good, even if the rest was a total useless mess.
Once again, he heard the scream of tires, felt his skin tearing away, heard his own cry for the last time, saw the doctor’s pity and felt his crew’s gaze sliding right off of him like he wasn’t even there. He felt Oliver, a stranger, his Dom, holding him out of reach, like he didn’t want Rune kissing him again, looking at him like he was a puzzle with no answers, and he broke his own biggest rule.
“Please,” Rune begged.
Something shifted behind Oliver’s eyes, and Rune looked away, biting hard at his lip, turning his head away, knowing that next Oliver would let go and point to the door. Rune was already mentally pulling out his phone, texting Max for a ride, ready to crawl back into his hole and give up for good.
But then Oliver sank down, lying completely atop Rune, circling him with his arms in a gentle embrace, pressing his lips in a kiss to Rune’s temple and just breathing, just holding on.
Rune wound his arms behind Oliver’s back, a slight tremor shaking him, and gave in.
Oliver carried the tray into Rune’s room. It was the largest of two guest rooms, with its own bathroom and walk-in closet. The tray was filled with an array of breakfast foods—everything from vegan to sausage, and coffee, tea and orange juice, just to cover the bases. There was still too much Oliver didn’t know about his new submissive.
Rune was still deeply asleep as Oliver walked in. Barely a trickle of sunlight escaped the thick curtains blocking the large windows. Oliver set down the tray beside where Rune curled up on his side in the bed, pillow folded under his head and a peaceful expression on his face. For just a moment, Oliver took advantage of the chance to study Rune while he was totally unguarded. His handsome features were somehow only enhanced by all of the black and grey-ink tattoos. He was stunning with his pale skin, nearly black hair, thick, dark eyelashes, and soft, full lips. Since he was shirtless, Oliver had his first chance to not only check out more of Rune’s body, but also his ink and the long swaths of scarred skin along his arm and back.
Rune awoke while Oliver was looking him over. Inhaling sharply and reaching up to rub his eyes, he tried to shake himself awake fast. He pulled himself upright, tugging at the sheet in a glimpse of self-consciousness. His phone lay on the nightstand, charging with one of Oliver’s spare cords. Unplugging it, Oliver turned it on and passed it to him. Then Oliver woke up his own phone and passed it to Rune to read from.
Good morning. We need to correct the communication issue. Elet’s on his way over to help me catch up. I plan to use the next few days just to study and get you situated. We’ll move your things here so you’re comfortable and I’d need you to take some time to tell me about yourself. I’ll return the favor as best I can. Send me whatever questions you have.
I’ve sent you a text with my email address and list of things I’m curious about. Things I need to know about your past, your goals, and your preferences. All the basics and broader subjects, like what’s important to you in life and what you eat for breakfast. I wasn’t sure on that last one, so I got a little of everything.
Regarding last night, I’m keeping hands off until we’re better able to understand each other. I won’t jeopardize your safety. I need to be absolutely clear on what you’re feeling at a given time, and that means learning about each other first. That’s why I stopped you. It’s temporary. I’m a quick study.
We also need to make some rules for your safety for when we do get into some scenes. I’m still putting them together. First off is no blindfolds and no binding of your arms at any time that would thereby impede your ability to communicate with me, or see me communicating with you.
Sorry for hitting you with all of this so early, but we’ve got a lot of ground to cover and it’s already driving me crazy to have you here and not be able to do anything about it.
The basics about me: I’m stubborn. I don’t do bullshit. I get what I want. Right now, all I want is you.
Oh, and I already have a submissive. You’ll meet him soon. His name is Jackson. Married. House. Two kids. He’s here when he can be. I’m hoping you’ll get along. I think you will.
Staring at the small glowing screen, Rune blew out a breath that sounded like it would have been followed by a hearty, ‘fuck me,’ if he was the speaking sort. He ran his hands back through his hair, tousling it in a hot, absolutely un-self-conscious way that made Oliver want to rip the sheet back, tear off any clothes in the way and have at it, rules and logic be damned.
But he could see the questions piling up in Rune, ready to burst out. And it was killing Oliver to not be able to just have a conversation with eye contact and everything, so he gestured at the tray, took his phone back and pointed to Rune’s.
Clearing the screen, Oliver typed instead:
I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be out in the living room if you need me, studying. Take your time. Relax.
After reading Oliver’s screen, Rune typed a quick response:
No work?
Oliver answered:
Day trader. Work from home.
Rune nodded in understanding, biting at his lip, seemingly caught between deciding to eat, type, go take a leak or get dressed first, waiting on Oliver to go before he could.
When Oliver saw Rune’s gaze sweep up and down his body, hand on the tray like he was about to move it aside, Oliver held up a hand and gave him an encouraging look before turning to go.