Dominance

Summary: Syed had never thought Christian as being the dominant one when he first met him…but now he has realised that Christian is more dominant than he'd ever imagined.

Rated 15 for sexual themes. Something short, nothing special Christian/Syed

Stroke –

I had always been someone that would give in. A gentle caress of the cheek, a soft hand tracing my wrist, a lingering finger near my pubic bone…I'd be snapped up in an instance.

He knew that of course.

Talking it one step further…a stroke in the most intimate places. Eyes closed, I'm the submissive creature once more, bound by his invisible chains of sex and lust.

Stroke me once more…Fuck, I'm yours.

Sensations –

His breath tickles my earlobe; his hot-bloodied organ shoving deep inside my corrupted vessel. My veins are exploding and my heart is begging…pleading for more of him…just him. That's all that I need, and that's all that I want.

God.

I should never speak his name during this time, but the heavens have opened. It needs to be shouted from the rooftops if possible.

But for now, I'll just stick to another shoving sensation…

Craving –

'Syed', he shouts. 'Get down…' and I obey.

On all fours, I stare up at him and his big…blue eyes. Piercing, like the ocean waves, like the pureness of the sky, like the…

I'm smacked hard across the face. There's no time for romance

The whipped cream across my sweating back does not satisfy his needs. I wonder: Will anything?

He tries the chocolate syrup, cold, frozen, straight from the fridge and dumps it, not smoothing it onto my skin. It burns bitterly as my pores become ice but his lave-filled tongue breaks my agony, soothing me and comforting me.

He was always partial to the sticky taste of chocolate, a crazy commanded by the sweet tooth

And I will always be commanded by him…and I will always crave him.

Fluid –

I don't know what I prefer the taste of most…the fluid from the depths of his mouth or from the depths of his fierce organ. It's a tough choice.

It's all over the floor, and I just want to scoop it up. All of him into a little jar for myself…for when I have my own private time.

I don't really get the chance to enjoy one of them when I get to savour him…he never lets me fully gratify myself.

It's his way.

And I love him for it.

God –

I realised something…when I let him into my world again…when I gave a huge two fingers up to Allah…my god…I realised something.

He is my god…Christian.

He is Allah reincarnate, punishing me for what I've done. Sending me to my own special hell.

As I'm on all fours, licking the sweat off of his back I know this to be true. But I don't care. Fuck it if I'm going to hell, fuck it if I'm going to be severely punished…if he does it, then I want it one hundred percent.

For a few weeks now, it's been chains, whips and slapping…if that's just the start, I can't wait to see what else is in store.

Love –

'I love you' I whisper.

He just grimaces.

'Don't say it'

'Why?'

'It's not appropriate'

'Okay' I say, as he embraces me, harshly though.

After what I did to him before, the only way he can be with me is through subtle brutality.

Its okay, I don't mind.

He is my idea of heaven after all.

My God with wings…and if that angel carries a whip and a dozen cutting insults, then that is okay.

It really is.