It’s not our suite at the Fillmore, but the bathroom facilities in our room at The Toolshed are perfectly adequate though nobody would describe them as warm and fuzzy. In the interest of efficiency, Dane and I share the shower stall, soaping up backs but generally keeping our hands out of each other’s erogenous zones. We still have several hours ahead of us, and I need all my mojo for the pièce de résistance that will cap off this celebratory evening.
Dane catches me staring at him in the mirror as his nimble fingers work the belt buckle. “Did I miss a loop, Master?” he asks, knowing full well he’s perfect.
“Nope.” I fiddle with the buttons at my cuffs, pretending to look at my reflection and not his.
He leans forward, carefully inspecting both sides of his scruffy face. “Would you like me to shave now, Master?”
There’s a tiny smirk on his face now; he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. Flipping a few fingers through his hair, he scrubs at his bangs until they fall into his eyes—eyes he sets on my reflection.
“Dane?” My tone freezes him in place.
“Do you remember what happens to boys who tease their Master?”
His lips flatten into a straight line. “Yes, Master.”
I give him a firm nod and a stern glare. “All right, then. If you’re ready, go wait by the door and stop torturing me.”
His grin breaks free, and as he passes in front of me, I give him a swat that propels him toward the door. I spend a few private moments performing grooming tasks I don’t need my boy to see, and soon enough, the two of us and our shopping bags are cabbing it to Del Frisco’s.
“Are you okay to drink tonight, Dane? I thought I’d order us a bottle of champagne.”
“Sounds great, as long as you don’t mind if I only have a glass or two.”
“That’s fine. We don’t get our money back if we finish the bottle. Why don’t you pick the side dishes for us?”
“Are you sure, Mast—”
I close my menu and smile at him. “Yes, I’m sure, and what the hell are we going to do about this, Dane? I plan to take you out and show you off. You realize you’re gagging yourself, right?”
“Hard limit!” he half-jokes.
The waiter stops by for our drink order, endorsing my selection with his best I-just-calculated-my-tip-on-your-champagne smile. I hand him the thick wine portfolio and return to my compelling date, who seems to have worked out the problem.
“How about if I just sit closer to you so nobody else can hear?”
I shake my head and chuckle. “That’s your solution?”
“Pretty much,” he suggests hopefully.
“I have nothing against you sitting close to me, Dane, but what if we’re with other people?”
This problem appears even more elementary for him. “Who will we ever be with who won’t know what you are to me?”
“Dane, you’re comfortable with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m not ashamed of being a submissive.”
Oh, hell. I reach across the table and cover Dane’s hand with mine. “I’m sorry, Dane. I didn’t mean to suggest you were, or that there would be any reason to be. You know I don’t feel that way about it.”
“I do know that.” Dane drops his gaze to the table while he pauses to gather his thoughts.
What pulled at my patience a couple short weeks ago is now a source of great admiration and respect. Before Dane speaks again, he stands and places his chair right next to mine at the table. When he unleashes his next comment, I start praying the place has a defibrillator.
“Master, I have never been more proud of anything in my life than the fact that you have chosen me to be your submissive.”
I don’t speak. Let’s be real—I can’t speak. I’m all choked up with no place to go.
This boy oozes pride at serving me, and I, in turn, have never felt more humbled in my life. “Dane, you elevate me with your exquisite submission.”
Dane’s gaze drops to the table, his luxurious lashes fluttering just above his cheeks. Our champagne intrudes.
Desperate to prolong the intimacy of our revelations, I grasp Dane’s hand under the table and pull it to my lap. A silent conversation leaps the distance between us while the waiter fiddles with wire and cork. The pop and promise of a festive toast and loosened inhibitions almost compensate for the invasion.
“I’ll be back in a moment to take your orders,” the waiter promises, tactfully slipping away so we can share a private moment.
Hands still clasped below the table, we both raise our flutes. Dane, being Dane, waits for me to start.
“To your many continuing successes, Dane, on every level—professional, physical, emotional, and spiritual.”
Dane picks up the thread and weaves. “And to the man who helped make them all possible for me.”
I pause, holding my glass just a fraction of an inch from his. “I’m toasting to that because you said, ‘helped.’ You know how I feel about this, too.”
With Dane’s nod, I clink with him and sip the champagne. As promised, the waiter returns. I order the Wagyu Longbone for us to share, giving Dane’s hand a playful squeeze as I do. Dane adds two baked potatoes and an order of asparagus.
“Are you sure that’s enough food, Dane?”
He shoots me a sheepish grin. “I was saving room for chocolate cake.”
The waiter looks at me, and I pass him the menus. “We’ll talk again later.”
“Sounds good,” he says before scooting off.
“So, Dane, I know it may seem a bit unconventional to have this conversation here, but I’d really like to get your sense of how things are going. Frankly, when we’re alone together, we just don’t seem to have enough time for talking.”
A pensive Dane pulls the champagne to his lips. Behind the glass, a small smile forms.
“Have a thought?” I ask.
“You haven’t disciplined me yet, so I guess I must be doing something right.”
“You’re doing everything right,” I assure him. “Would you like me to elaborate for you?” It will probably embarrass the hell out of him, but he needs to hear it. Dane isn’t used to hearing what he does well from his Master.
He sets down his glass and spins the stem between his fingers. When he glances up again, there is anxiety behind his eyes.
“Don’t worry, Dane. This won’t hurt a bit.” I’m not sure whether he’s worried he’ll hear something negative or whether the thought of actually hearing something nice makes him uncomfortable. “Look how far you’ve come in just two short weeks. When you first came to see me, you could hardly look me in the eye, and getting you to speak was difficult.”
His sly grin—the one that reveals the easygoing Dane I love to see—makes an appearance. “Does this go in the ‘be careful what you wish for’ category?”
I squeeze his hand. “No, I can handle a lot more of both, and while we’re at it, that devilish smile is right at the top of my list, too.”
He blinks a few times, his dark lashes drawing me in.
“And how about the fact that I couldn’t touch you in the beginning, wouldn’t even consider binding you . . . and we’ve progressed to cuffing both wrists,” I pause to lean in, “and someone’s even exhibiting a bit of a fondness for a spanking?”
Dane’s cheeks brighten, and he squirms in his seat. I can’t help but smile at his charming inability to mask his arousal.
“What a huge leap you’ve taken in such a short time, Dane, and I’m so very proud of you.”
“Thank you,” he responds.
“How is all this sitting with you? When you’re away from me or thinking about things . . . are you feeling good about where we are?”
Quiet now, Marcus. Let the boy answer.
“Master,” he starts out in typical thoughtful, quiet manner, “it feels right. I’m starting to feel like myself again.”
My heart floods with joy, but I can see he has more to share.
“Actually, that’s not exactly true. If you took all the best moments of my life—my most inspired dance performance, my most satisfying connections with friends, my . . .” his eyes give away what’s coming next, and my cock makes a pre-emptive twitch, “most fulfilling intimate experiences, and let me experience all of them at once, that would describe where I am now.”
“Dane, are you telling me you want me to stop pushing you? That you’re where you want to be?”
I have plans for the boy, dammit. Plans that get me worked up beyond belief. But I would chuck every single one if this is where Dane wants to stay. Maybe he’s hit a plateau, or maybe he’s really exactly as far as he needs to go in order to feel fulfilled, and if that’s the case, I will totally respect that.
But dammit, the plans I have.
Dane takes a longer drag on his champagne, downing the rest of his drink before speaking again. “I don’t know where I want to be, Master. I only know I’m happy with you.”
I take a deep breath, soak in Dane’s revelation, and refill the champagne flutes. I’m not sure at this point which of us needs it more.
“Dane, can you tell me how it felt when you were restrained today?”
Dane slides back in his mind to our scene in the club. His eyes take on that faraway glaze that puts me on high alert. It’s scary when he slips away from me. His hand in mine comforts me.
“At first, I still had that moment of panic. The old ‘what ifs’ started up in my head. ‘What if he hurts me?’ ‘What if he exposes me?’ ‘What if he leaves me here like this?’”
Not pleasant to hear.
“But then, I see you. I hear your voice. I feel your touch. And it’s you, not him. And I know I’m safe.”
I inject myself into his recollection, guiding his vision. “That’s good, Dane. That’s really, really good. Can you keep going, please?”
He continues on. “I can feel that edge, the thrill of giving myself to you. It’s still scary, but that’s what makes it so . . .”
I broke the spell, but I couldn’t help it. Dane meets my eyes, and he is positively sizzling inside—as am I. “Yes.”
I stroke his knuckles with my thumb, the caress a poor substitute for what we’re both imagining. “Your arousal outweighed your fear.”
A hint of that smile. “Hell yes, Master.” And now, he’s got me smiling, too.
“Dane,” I start, leaning in so my lips are just in front of his ear, “did you notice that you didn’t lose your erection today?”
He lets out a soft grunt, closing his eyes and tipping his head so that my lips graze his cheek. We’re back in that room, and I’m teasing the crap out of him, both of us aching for release. I’m getting hot under the collar, and I can feel Dane’s heart rate picking up.
I feel...gah! Hope you enjoyed this little mushball moment courtesy of this overly emotional pumpkin who's apparently taken over all my functions since my birthday. GOOD GRIEF! Anywho...let's see about those plans! XXX