Dom’s body ached as he climbed the steps up to Adrian’s master bathroom. He took off his shirt and bowtie before washing and drying his face. What he really wanted was a nice long shower that he could hide in, cry in, and come out feeling drenched and purified.
But he’d asked Adrian not to cancel the reservation, and honestly, he didn’t know if a shower would even help at this point. Parts of him were flayed, cut open wide by his own actions. He shoved the desire to dwell, to replay the whole set of events over and over, to grasp onto the hurt he’d seen in Adrian and roll in that forever.
He leaned his palms against the edge of the marble countertop. Fucking hard not to. When he examined himself in the mirror, his eyes were still red. “You’re such a fuckup,” he whispered at himself. “You’re not really good at anything, are you? Not music, not love.”
“Babe.” A soft reply from the doorway.
Dom dropped his head and groaned. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” No one was. He only ever took himself down in private.
Adrian huffed. “Would you come here, please?” He stood just outside the doorway of the bathroom, before turning to retreat to the bed.
Despite the hollowness in his gut—or maybe because of it—Dom went out to see what Adrian was doing. By the bench that sometimes lived at the foot of the bed, Adrian turned, met Dom’s gaze and—sat.
Just sat down. On the bench. As if he was waiting for something.
Dom was halfway across the room before he realized it, and by Adrian’s side when it occurred to him what Adrian was offering and what he—Dom—was doing. What he needed. He fell to his knees, and pressed his head against Adrian’s thigh.
Felt right. Even more so when Adrian stroked fingers through his hair. Dom wrapped his arms around Adrian and held on, finding that center in Adrian’s calm, and remembering where it was in himself.
He didn’t know how long they sat like that, with Adrian stroking his hair, only that it was Adrian who spoke first.
“Dominic,” he said in that voice that made Dom both melt and tremble. “I’d like you to listen to me now, because this is important.”
Dom raised his head and met Adrian’s warm, strong, gaze. The one that commanded. “Okay.”
Adrian brushed fingers over his jaw. “Usually, when I demand something of you, it’s for a moment, or a short time. During sex or bondage, or times like now.”
Dom nodded. “Not full-time domination.”
“Or submission,” Adrian said. “Not your thing. Not mine, either.”
“There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there?”
“I’m going to demand something of you for long-term, open-ended, a command that I would like you to follow.”
A hard edge to Adrian’s words, to the way his fingers moved, too. He wasn’t joking. This was real. “What?”
“Don’t ever say anything like that to yourself ever again.” A hint of outrage slipped into Adrian’s smooth voice, making it crackle. “Don’t undermine yourself like that.”
For a moment, Dom couldn’t breathe. Parts of him rejoiced, other parts yelled, and those fucking tears were back in his eyes.
Adrian’s gaze softened, and he took Dom’s face in his hands, his palms warm. “And yes, I know what I’m asking of you is hard. But yes, you can do it.”
“But what if I can’t?”
Adrian stroked his thumbs along Dom’s cheeks. “You’re strong and you have a heart of fire. You can.”
Yeah, he didn’t think that was true. Besides, the voice wasn’t always wrong.
Except it kinda was wrong most of the time. Maybe all of it. Shit.
“How would you even know?”
This time, Adrian’s smile was sly. “Because you’ll tell me. And every time you do, I’m going to be compelled to prove that nasty little voice in your head is a fucking liar.”
“I—Can you prove it to me, even if I don’t beat myself up?”
A laugh. “I intend to do that, too.” Adrian leaned down and took Dom’s mouth into a kiss that was like air and light. Dom let himself be carried up and into Adrian’s arm, into his lap, until they were tangled into each other.
When they broke the kiss, Adrian threaded his hands into Dom’s hair. “I can’t abide anyone breaking you down, not even you.”
“You’re not my therapist.”
A small smile. “No. I’m your lover and your boyfriend, and sometimes the person who puts you on your knees and ties you up.”
All of that sounded good. So good. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.” Because it would be nice to ignore that shitty little voice for a while. “And I should see about actually getting a therapist, ’cause this is on me, not you.”
Adrian touched his forehead to Dom’s and stroked his cheeks. “Agreed.”
“Should we finish getting dressed? Or cancel dinner?” Just as Dom asked the question, his stomach growled.
“There’s your answer.” Adrian nudged Dom off his lap.
Yeah, now that he was calmer and more collected, hunger burned through him.
He finished cleaning up and put his shirt and bowtie back on while Adrian donned a tie and jacket that matched his pants. He looked crisp and finished, even with his hair slightly disheveled.
“Hey,” Dom called, then beckoned Adrian over. A quick brush of Dom’s fingers set Adrian’s hair right. “There.”
That got him a hand behind the neck and a sweet, slow kiss. Then Adrian straightened his bowtie. “I like the shoes,” he murmured.
Dom shook his head. “Now you notice them.”
They were both smiling when they left the house, hopped in the Uber Adrian had called, and headed to a nice place up by Columbia University.
“Hipster central,” Dom said.
“Says the hipster.” Adrian took his hand and tugged him into the restaurant.
The place? Nice. Really nice. If he weren’t actually secretly a rock star, it would have been way-out-of-his-budget nice. “Um, this is...” He looked around as they were led into the dining room. “May I pay for this one, Adrian?”
“No.” A very final answer, but delivered with a smile. “One nice benefit of my well enough job is that it pays far more than its enjoyment factor. And with no rent or mortgage...” Adrian shrugged.
Fuck. How many people would love to be that lucky? “Wow, okay.” Dom paused. “You really don’t like your job?”
Adrian gave a sigh, then looked up. “Hold that thought.”
Next thing Dom knew, a server materialized at their table. She took their drink orders. Well, order—Adrian asked for a bottle of wine Dom knew better than to check the price of. Part of him still cringed at how much things cost. But another part liked that he could afford them. The third part gave quite a bit to LGBT charities because he could and he fucking well ought to support the community. He’d always feel a little weird about the wealth, he was pretty sure.
After the server left, Adrian tapped at his menu. “We should order, then we can talk.”
Which could either be a diversion tactic, or a legitimate suggestion. Given his own exhaustion and emotional frailty, Dom leaned toward the latter, especially since he didn’t have the energy to poke secrets from Adrian. And he didn’t have the ground to stand on to do it, either.
But once the wine came and their food orders were taken, Adrian folded his hands in front of him on the table. “I don’t hate my job,” he said. “It pays quite well and it’s a damn sight more stable than the ones I had out in California.”
Dom considered that, picking up his wine and sipping. For a moment, he was lost in the complex tastes on his tongue, and he closed his eyes. “Fuck, this is a good bottle of wine.”
Adrian chuckled. “Well, it better be, considering.”
Yeah, the price had been high, then. Dom flicked his eyes open to see Adrian’s cocky smile. He, however, still hadn’t touched his glass, aside from when the server had offered a taste. Dom set his own glass down. “Not hating something isn’t the same as liking something.”
“No.” Adrian’s voice was dusty. He sat back, humor fading, and grabbed his wineglass. “It’s not. But not liking a job isn’t always a good reason to quit it.” He finally drank.
“But what keeps you there?” Because everything about the way Adrian held himself said he was unhappy, and Dom was pretty sure that this wasn’t about him. They’d already had their—fight? Spat? Whatever.
Another sip, then a sigh. “Right at the moment? Not much, to be honest. This week’s been hell. My best friend’s probably quitting, and I’ve been given a project that’s been royally screwed up by an asshole who somehow keeps getting promoted.”
“Um, Adrian? That kinda sounds a lot like hating your job.”
His laugh was dark. “Maybe.” He met Dom’s gaze across the table. “It’s been on my mind since that first night we met. My well enough job.” He took a larger swallow of wine, then set the glass down.
Dom toyed with his own glass. “What do you want to be doing? I mean, if you could pick?”
Adrian looked out into the dining room, brow furrowed. “Something creative. Web design. I love the freelance work I’ve done. I’d really like to come up with a better social media platform.” He looked back. “Honestly, anything’s got to be more worthwhile than fixing broken code for a corporate bank.”
Okay, so Dom did want to know more about Adrian, too. Learn what made him tick. But spiraling him into sadness was not exactly what Dom had planned. “Financial services institution,” he murmured.
Adrian’s eyes widened, and he laughed. “Right.”
Dom grinned back. “What about your friend?”
“Jackson? He’s probably going to take a massive pay cut to go work for a startup that’s full of people of color and developing apps for queer kids.” Adrian’s face fell a little. “He has more integrity than me, to be honest.”
Now look who was beating himself up. “Hon, it’s okay to make a living.”
Adrian arched an eyebrow. “Hon?”
Dom dropped his voice. “I guess Mish is wearing off on me. She calls us all hon.”
A smile. “The bassist.”
He nodded, trying hard not to glance around, but failing. Wouldn’t that be something? Domino Grinder, nerd extraordinaire, secretly out with his boyfriend.
Adrian reached his hand out across the table. “We’re far enough away from everyone else. One good thing about some expensive places, they don’t pack us in so you’re sitting on your neighbor’s lap.”
Dom slipped his hand into Adrian’s. “I know. It’s just... I kinda live in fear.”
The smile dropped away again. “Yeah, figured that out recently.”
He tried not to flinch. Failed.
“Babe, it’s okay. I get it now.” Adrian squeezed his hand.
Maybe he did. “Tell me more about your job. Or, like, what’s going wrong?”
Arched eyebrows. “You really want to hear about that?”
“Yeah, I kinda do.” He ran his thumb over the back of Adrian’s hand. “I want to talk like a normal couple. So...tell me about your week?”
Adrian laughed, loudly enough to turn a few heads momentarily, but once he quieted, the other diners looked away. “Dominic, are we getting domestic?”
Maybe Dom had been reading those BDSM books a little too much, because what came out of his mouth was, “Spanking isn’t really my thing.”
And, of course, that’s when the server brought the food.
Adrian dissolved into another bought of laughter, while the server impeccably and unfazedly laid down their meals.
“Don’t mind me, I’m just going to shrink into this chair.” Dom’s cheeks were hot.
There was a slight smile on the server’s lips, but he didn’t say anything except, “Bon appétit.”
Across the table, Adrian sighed, but it was a happy sound. “This is exactly why I’m falling in love with you.”
Heat and joy and embarrassment all blazed through Dom at the same time, and he looked into his wine.
Adrian clicked his tongue. “You’re witty and wonderful and my world is so much brighter.”
Was that what Adrian thought? Dom looked up—and there was nothing but love and admiration in those eyes. “I—Thanks.”
A nod, and a different blaze of heat at Adrian’s approval.
They both picked up their silverware. “So,” Adrian said, “you really want to know about my week at work?”
“Yeah, I do.” Dom stabbed a ravioli, slid it into his mouth slowly and carefully, well aware that Adrian was now fixated on his lips. Once he’d chewed and swallowed, he took a sip of wine. “Then when we get home, I’ll tell you about mine.”
An almost imperceptible shudder ran through Adrian. Had Dom not been watching him closely, he might have missed it. He didn’t miss the slow smile that blossomed, or the way Adrian shifted in his chair. “All right,” he said. “You have yourself a deal.”
As they ate, Adrian talked about his software programing job. Sometimes the terms didn’t make sense to Dom—wrong language—but the struggles Adrian had with management, the way he’d been used by his coworker, those Dom understood.
“I suspect Jackson will turn in his notice soon.”
“Your best friend?”
“Yes, he’s—” Adrian huffed a laugh, and color touched his cheeks. “We’ve been friends for a while. We met at a club.”
“I still think it’s weird that you go clubbing, given how much you hate modern music.”
“I don’t hate modern music, I just don’t listen to it much.” Adrian took a sip of wine and grinned over the rim. “And I wasn’t going for the music. I was going to get laid.”
“Did you?”
“All the damn time.” He paused. “Sometimes with Jackson. Friends with benefits on occasion. But not recently. Hell, except for that time with you, I haven’t even been to a club in ages.”
And not, Dom suspected, because of him—this felt like a before-Adrian-had-met-him kind of thing. “Any reason why not?”
“Same reason I didn’t hook up with you that first night. I wanted something longer.” Adrian shrugged. “Jackson’s also my personal trainer, more or less.”
That explained the toned body. “He does good work.”
That got a chuckle out of Adrian. “I’ll be sure to mention that next time. Maybe he’ll fuck off with those damn burpees.”
“Shut your mouth, Dominic Bradley.” Adrian grinned. That expression mellowed a bit. “I’m going to guess it’s not the gym that keeps you in shape.”
Dom laughed. “No. It’s touring and playing and running around onstage. I usually lose weight on tour if I’m not careful because it’s just so physical.”
He kept peppering Adrian with questions about his job. What he did like: solving complex problems. Fixing shit. Cleaning up designs.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said website design. There’s a lot of thought that could be put into how to navigate someone through content.”
Dom shook his head. “You’re looking at someone who just uses templates on a build-it-yourself site.”
Adrian cringed. “Babe, don’t say such things.”
Dom couldn’t help laughing. Okay, for starting out nearly the worst way it might have, this night was shaping up to be a good one after all. When they finished their meal and their wine, Dom glanced at Adrian. “Dessert?”
“At home.” The look in Adrian’s eyes sent a bolt of lust across all of Dom’s veins and his dick responded.
Home meant Adrian’s. It also probably meant rope. And maybe a chair. “Let’s go.”
They behaved for the Uber driver. Mostly. Adrian’s hand was high on Dom’s thigh, touching and teasing, and his smile was just shy of leering.
When they entered the house, Adrian gave Dom a gentle shove forward. “To the living room, please.”
The air changed, or maybe it was Dom’s brain, because by the time he stepped into that space he was a little high and a lot turned on. Didn’t help that Adrian placed both hands on his shoulders, halting him.
“Here’s fine.” Hands smoothed down Dom’s arms, then fell away. “Turn around, please.”
He faced Adrian and stared up into those gold-flecked eyes.
“Dominic.” Adrian breathed his name like it was a chant. “I love you. I want to give you everything I can.”
“You—I—”
Adrian framed Dom’s face with his hands. “We didn’t have a very good start to the evening, and that was my mistake and my fault. Before we do anything more tonight, I want to give you some time to make sure this is what you want from me.”
Dom exhaled and fell back to earth with a grunt, but he couldn’t look away from Adrian’s sad and hopeful eyes. “I know what I want from you.” Right now and later. “And I’m not gonna let you take all the blame for earlier.”
A small smile, then Adrian let go and stepped back. “Humor me. Sit for a little bit while I change.” He worked the knot loose on his tie. “It’s important to me not to overstep your bounds. Give me only what you want, Dominic. No more. And certainly not anything you don’t want to share.”
Dom nodded, because he did understand. Adrian was seeking Dom’s comfort and consent—which said a lot, especially given their earlier spat and Dom’s breakdown. He wanted touch and reassurance. But if it made Adrian feel safer and more secure...well, he could wait a little, too.
It was all about give and take and each other, after all.
“Okay,” he said. “But I’m pretty damn sure I want to be tied up tonight, so maybe—” He waved in the direction of the stairs. “Bring something down for that?”
The look Adrian gave Dom was worth everything. A cross between shock and lust, until intense control took over. He nodded once, then headed down the hall to the stairs.
Dom sank down on the couch. The vestiges of his panic attack lingered, as did the anxiety that brought it on. Showing both sides of his life to someone who wasn’t in the band was hard. He’d kinda had to do it with Zavier when he joined them on tour—but Zavier had known the old Dom in high school, at least in passing.
Adrian only had ever known Dominic. Showing him Domino was gonna be interesting. Sure, there were the songs and the videos, but existing in the same space as Adrian—that would be different.
He expected a jolt of worry, but none came. Excitement did, though—same as he’d felt when he’d dragged Adrian to the Met. He was something he could share. Give over. And those aspects of himself? Adrian fucking cherished them. Worshiped them.
Kind of like how Adrian worshiped Dom in his own way. Yeah, Dom might be the one on his knees, but Adrian took care of him, and that took Dom’s breath away. He turned the thought over and over in his head. Let it heat his blood and melt away the lingering stress and worry.
When he heard the creak of the steps, he turned toward the hall to see Adrian return. He still wore his dress slacks and belt. Socks and shoes. The jacket and tie were gone, but the white shirt remained. The top two buttons had been undone to expose his throat and his pale freckled skin. Dom focused on that spot before raising his gaze to those lips. He slid off the couch and onto his knees.
Adrian’s stare burned through him. “You really do know what you want.”
Those words alone made Dom’s mouth water. But what Adrian carried in his hands made his bones melt and dick harden. Several bundles of rope in one hand and a leather collar in the other. With rings attached.
“Yeah, I do.” Dom met Adrian’s hot stare. “And I love you, too. Trust you. Want to share myself with you.”
Those eyes flickered like a fire, and Adrian nodded. He strode to Dom and placed the items in his hands on the couch before stroking the side of Dom’s jaw with his fingers. “Are you fine with wearing a collar for me?”
“Yeah. I like ’em. I mean, when I wear them onstage.”
“So I saw in this photos. But this one’s mine, and will serve a different purpose.”
Dom’s cock pressed against the zipper of his pants. “Figured, given the loops.” He licked his lips. “I want to be yours tonight.”
Adrian stepped closer and tipped Dom’s chin up. “Good. Because every inch of you is going to be.”
Dom shivered. Couldn’t help it.
Adrian stepped back. “Up to your feet, please. Take those pretty shoes and your socks off.”
Somehow, Dom managed to rise without falling. He toed off the shoes and removed the socks, then waited, heart in his throat.
“You’re so very good at this.” Adrian cupped his face. “Giving yourself to me.” His lips brushed Dom’s in the barest of kisses.
Dom couldn’t help the moan the came from his soul. “I fucking love you,” he whispered.
Adrian bushed his thumb over Dom’s lips. “Shhh. Feel.”
Oh god, he felt. Every touch, every move of Adrian’s hands on his. All his nerves firing when that gold-flecked gaze slid down to Dom’s bowtie and nimble fingers pulled at the ends and untied the knot.
The tie landed on the couch next to the rope.
Fingers worked at the top button on Adrian’s shirt. “Everything about you is—” Breath skimmed over his neck before Adrian’s lips and tongue branded him there, kissing and sucking below his ear. “Delectable.”
He would have fallen over, if it hadn’t been for Adrian’s grip on his shirt.
Adrian worked buttons over and kissed his way down Dom’s neck until the shirt was open. Then it was sliding off his shoulders, and Adrian’s teeth nipped at Dom’s collarbone.
“I could spend years kissing every inch of you.”
“Please.” Dom groaned the word out.
A huff of amusement, and with a tug and yank, Adrian freed Dom’s hands from his shirt. That landed on top of the bowtie. He caressed his hands over Dom’s arms and pecs, skimming against nipples. “I love all this ink.” He gripped the knot-work on Dom’s shoulder. “This one most of all. Strong, like you.”
Dom lolled his head back when Adrian’s hands dipped lower to pull at his belt. Lost in the sensations of lips and breath. The sound of Adrian’s voice. The firm way he undid Dom’s belt and pants.
Adrian slid his hand down into Dom’s boxers and wrapped his warmth around Dom’s cock. “You’re always so fucking hard for me.” A few strokes stole Dom’s breath and threatened to take his legs out from under him until Adrian pulled their bodies together.
Adrian didn’t stop working Dom’s cock. “Never takes much to make you come for me, does it, Dominic?”
“No.” He breathed out the word. “You always make me hard. Make me wanna come so fast. But I’d rather wait.” He gripped Adrian’s shirt. “But only if that’s what you want.”
“You’re so very good,” Adrian said again. “I adore making you wait. Stringing you out. Watching you squirm and pant and buck for me.”
Finally, Adrian relented, which was for the best because Dom was so close to release, he didn’t know if he could have staved it off much longer. He was humming like a struck chord that went on forever and ever.
Adrian pushed Dom’s pants and underwear off, then opened space between them. “Step out of those.” He beckoned Dom forward.
Moving was like walking in a dream, all floating and light. “You make my head spin.”
A raised eyebrow. “Good spin or bad spin?”
“Good. Always so good.” Dom really wanted to kneel again, but that wasn’t what Adrian had asked for.
From the couch, Adrian claimed the collar and held it up. “May I?”
Of course Adrian would ask. Dom’s heart melted even more, even as his whole body lit. “Yes. Please.”
A smile, then there was leather around Dom’s neck, being tightened until it was snug. “There.”
So fucking good. The only thing on his body—Adrian’s collar. Fuck, he wanted more. Hands, tongue, body. He moaned.
“Babe.” Adrian’s lips brushed his again, then picked the rope up from the couch. “Kitchen, please.”
Not quite sure how he managed to cross the distance, but he did. Adrian nodded to the chairs at the breakfast bar—metallic, tall, and with reasonably high backs. “Sit, please. Hands on your thighs.”
Dom did as told, the chair cool against his flesh. He couldn’t help wondering if Adrian had picked these chairs for this reason—slick and hard against naked skin and with enough places to hook rope around.
This time, Adrian slid his hands over Dom’s shoulder, drifting fingertips down biceps. “So open and so hidden,” he murmured before meeting Dom’s gaze. “Would you mind if I listened to your songs? Watched your videos?”
A shock of heat ran through Dom. The thought of Adrian seeing and hearing the other part of his life beyond the magazine was like slowly ripping off a Band-Aid. It itched and burned, though he knew it had to be done. “I—Yeah. I mean, you should. Watch them. Listen to the albums.”
That earned him a kiss to his forehead. “I won’t when you’re here, I promise.”
Which meant, at some point, Dom would need to leave. Probably before the weekend was over. “I love you,” he whispered, because he hadn’t said it enough.
“Sweet, sweet Dominic.” Adrian planted another kiss on his forehead, then took a long sip from his mouth, one that left Dom breathless. “You are my heart.” He stepped back and pulled at one of the bundles of rope, unfurling it.
Dom’s whimper was swallowed up by Adrian’s chuckle. “Shall I take that as consent to tie you up, Dominic?”
“Fuck. Please, please, please tie me up already, Adrian.”
He did, crossing rope over limbs and torso and around the metal of the chair. Through the loops on the collar around Dom’s neck, adding to the wonderful sensation of being caught, being bound and held and helpless.
Kind of amazing how just a little pressure around his neck could send him skyward. Make him so hard he wanted to rock and buck and beg Adrian to get him off. In short order, he couldn’t have moved if he wanted to—and he didn’t want to. Not with Adrian so close, so flushed, and his pants tented like that. The way Adrian drank the sight of him made Dom dizzy.
Adrian fingered Dom’s nipple. Not hard, but playfully. The gentle tugging went straight to his balls, though, and he tried to rock his hips. Failed, then moaned at the conflict between pleasure and need and—wherever the hell he went whenever Adrian tied him up.
“In the clouds, aren’t you?” Adrian tipped his chin up. Looked down at him with those beautiful eyes.
“You make me fly.” The words were out before Dom even registered them. But that was true. He flew and soared. Different from a concert. So safe, too.
A smile, then Adrian stepped away. “I have a treat for you.” Then he vanished from view—heading for the fridge, from the direction. Dom couldn’t crane his body, nor turn his head enough to watch. But the sounds were of the fridge opening and closing. A knife cutting something. A dish. The clink of metal on ceramic.
Dessert. Adrian had said he had dessert. Dom hoped it was pie.
And yes, when Adrian returned, he held a plate with one of the most amazing slices of lemon meringue Dom had ever seen. “Oh fuck, Adrian.” He didn’t think he could want this man more. Now. Forever.
“Sunlight in your eyes and on your tongue.” Adrian set the pie down on the breakfast bar, pulled over the other chair, and perched on it.
“And you say you’re not a poet.” Dom swallowed. His skin was alive with sensations. The hard unyielding chair against his back, ass, and thighs. The soft, powerful rope pressing across his skin from his shoulders to his ankles. The strip of warm leather at his neck that he could feel with every breath and syllable and swallow.
Adrian didn’t reply. He just cut a piece of pie off with his fork and held it out to Dom.
He couldn’t do more than open his mouth—the way his collar was tied down didn’t permit him to move his head forward. Adrian slipped the piece of pie into his mouth, sending tingles down Dom’s spine, even before he closed his lips over the tines of the fork.
Tart and sweet exploded onto his tongue. Flakey crust. Perfect cloud-like meringue. Liquid lemon. The hard tines slid out over his lips and he moaned in ecstasy, every bit of his being overwhelmed by touch and taste. The citrus smell of the pie, the woodsy scent of Adrian. He closed his eyes because sight was too much to handle.
After he swallowed, Adrian’s mouth claimed his, tongue forcing past his lips. He moaned and squirmed and fought against the ropes, but couldn’t move.
Adrian could, though. Hands caressed thighs before one wrapped around Dom’s cock and stroked slowly.
Dom whimpered into Adrian’s mouth. This would do him in. There’d be a headline on some gossip site: DOMINO GRINDER SUCCUMBS TO ROPE BONDAGE, PIE, AND A KISS.
Adrian relented with a chuckle. “You taste so good.”
“You’re gonna kill me.”
“Oh no.” Adrian sat back and took his own bite of pie. “Not kill. Tease. Fuck. Make you cry out so loud the neighbors hear you again.”
Too much. Dom’s whole being was on fire. Body, mind, soul.
“Adrian.” There was an edge to his voice.
Adrian heard it. “Too much?”
“No.” Dom was swirling in pleasure, head so high, cock so hard. He didn’t know he could even exist in this state for this long. “Might come without you touching me.”
“Now wouldn’t that be a treat?” That fucking smile was light and heat, and Dom shivered in his ropes, the tugs and pulls cascading waves of pleasure over his heightened senses. “More pie?”
Dom opened his mouth. Each astounding bite was followed by more kisses and touches, until the pie was gone and Dom was a mess of moans and pleading. For freedom, for captivity. To be fucked so hard.
Adrian untied him from the chair and Dom nearly fell out of it. It wasn’t that his limbs were numb—his entire body was so turned on he couldn’t think straight. Like too many glasses of gin, but so much better than that. There was citrus in his mouth and he was in Adrian’s arms, with Adrian’s collar around his neck. “Upstairs?”
A huff of laughter. “Yes, babe.”
Adrian helped him up the stairs, as if he was in a drunken stupor, and Dom groaned in frustration, even as he got his legs back under him and he slid down from that perfect high.
“Dominic?” Adrian’s voice sounded strained. They’d made it to the second floor and into Adrian’s bedroom.
“You’re not gonna fuck me, are you? ’Cause you think I’m too far gone to consent?” Tears pricked his eyes. “You’re gonna pour me into bed, tell me you love me, and kiss my cheek, and—”
Adrian whirled him around until they were face-to-face, chests touching. Dom grappled at Adrian’s shirt and met his heated gaze.
“You want me to fuck you?” Adrian growled the words.
“Yeah. Hard. Until I’m screaming.”
Adrian pushed him back until he hit the side of the bed. “You sure?”
“Want all of you. Like you want all of me.”
Something shifted in Adrian’s expression, and he nodded. “Then I need more rope. And the cuffs.”
Dom’s legs gave out and he crumpled to the bed, both stunned and entirely turned on. “Yeah. Good. Get them.”
A raised eyebrow. “Topping from the bottom, are you?”
Dom gave a shrug. “All those books say the submissive’s the one with the true power.”
Adrian laughed, and it was a pure sound. “Oh, babe. You’re completely there, all right. Quite capable of consent.” He went to his dresser drawer, the one with all his toys, and pulled out the cuffs Dom had worn before. And rope. Several more bundles.
“How many of those do you have?”
“Enough,” Adrian said, his teeth flashing as he grinned. He slid Dom’s glasses off.
Enough, indeed. By the time Adrian was done, Dom was bound in rope, ass in the air, hands cuffed to his ankles. It was heaven. He’d moaned and rocked and squirmed while Adrian pulled and tied and ordered him still. The end was pure bliss. Open, exposed, yet covered everywhere and secure. “Oh fuck. Fuck me.”
“That,” Adrian said as he ran a warm hand over one of Dom’s ass cheeks, “is the idea.”
The lube was cool and slick against Dom’s overheated skin as Adrian spread it up and down his crack, and he nearly lost it when Adrian pressed a finger inside him. The stretching and the pleasure of it all, on top of his senses being on fire all night long.
Adrian finger-fucked him slowly, and Dom groaned in frustration. He’d been riding the edge of pleasure for what felt like hours. “Fuck me. Please, please, please fuck me.” He tried to push back on Adrian’s hand, but he was too tightly bound—and that only spiked his pleasure higher.
“I am fucking you,” Adrian said, too much amusement in his voice.
“I want it hard. This is—” Dom lost his breath when Adrian rammed several fingers in and slid over his prostate.
“You were saying?”
Dom pressed his forehead against the mattress and moaned. Another hard thrust. Same fireworks in Dom’s brain and body. “Oh god.”
“That’s what I thought.” Adrian withdrew his fingers, and there was the telltale sound of a condom wrapper.
Dom needed him. All of him. Every ounce of his focus. His hands and mouth and cock.
“You’re so splendid like this, babe. Out of your mind for me.” Adrian pressed against Dom’s hole.
That edge of pleasure vanished, along with Dom’s mind when Adrian gripped the ropes at his waist, and thrust in. All that remained was ecstasy and security and the hard, fast rhythm of being fucked into oblivion.
The room smelled of sex and rope and leather. Of Adrian. Salt and sweet clung to Dom’s mouth as he moaned and shouted and begged for Adrian to never stop. Never. Never. He wanted to stretch the moment, live in the heat and safety and joy of their union.
But when Adrian slid those hands up to Dom’s shoulders and kissed his spine while plowing into him, there wasn’t anything left to hold on to, and he fell over that edge, screaming into bliss and fire and light.
Adrian’s teeth scraped across Dom’s back. “Oh fuck, baby, yeah. Come for me.”
Dom could barely breathe through the intensity of it all, the way Adrian rammed in harder, the stretch of the ropes against his flesh as he shook. He’d never come without a stroke or some friction on his cock before, but he shot hard and long until tears were in his eyes and Adrian’s own shout was in his ear.
Didn’t really register that it was over until Adrian had him half unbound, ’cause his body sang and sang and sang like one giant guitar string that had been plucked. He was vibrating with love and life and delight and couldn’t stop.
“Adrian.” His voice was a scrape across broken glass.
“I’m here.” Fingers on his cheeks, and Adrian’s lovely eyes peering into his. “Talk to me, babe.”
Worry threaded through every word. So much concern. So much love. “Can pour me into bed now.”
A smile, like sunshine, like lemon. His Adrian. “Let me finish. Get you cleaned up.” He kissed Dom so softly. “I love you, Dominic.”
Yeah. And Dom loved him, too. “Please stay with me.” He didn’t mean now. He meant longer. Didn’t know how to ask for that.
A flicker in those eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. ’Cause I love you, too.” Dom closed his eyes. “Never loved anyone before you.”
Lips against his forehead, then Adrian made good on his promise. The rest of the ropes were undone. The cuffs and the collar removed, and the last thing Dom was aware of was being tucked under those cool sheets he felt so safe in.
This was home.