Author's Notes: A continuation of my previous Three Rivers story, A Thousand Kisses Deep. The opening scene just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it and it just grew from there.
Warnings: Dubious consent issues within an established BDSM relationship, flogging for pleasure and mentions of a past physically and sexually abusive relationship.
Spoilers: Brief mentions of Ryan's First Day and Code Green.
Andy's POV:
The sound of skin slapping against skin is loud in the otherwise silent room, with only the occasional moan also breaking the silence.
Looking down at the pretty whore beneath me, I can tell he's just about had more than enough but I don't care. If I'm gonna pay for it then I'm gonna get my money's worth. Plus, he's just a whore. He doesn't get a say in how I use him. Not when I'm paying good money for the privilege.
A quick glance at the clock tells me I've been at it for close to an hour. Normally I wouldn't be able to last this long, not with one as skilled as him, but I took the precaution of wearing a cock ring for just this reason.
I sit back on my heels and hook my arms under his knees, holding him open for me to really fuck his ass. In this position I can truly admire his young, toned body. A smirk crosses my face at the come dried on his chest and abdomen because I've managed to do something that probably hasn't happened since he first started turning tricks: I got him to climax twice while I haven't come once.
His now flaccid cock bounces against his right thigh with each of my thrusts and he whispers, "Please" in a tone that has my hips stuttering against his ass and my vision graying out and my dick throbbing as it empties into the lithe young body under me.
Before I've even fully recovered, I pull out and step from the bed. Opening the box of baby wipes on the bedside table, I use one to clean myself and remove the cock ring before dressing quickly. Once fully dressed, I pull out my wallet and remove a wad of bills, not even bothering to count them because I brought just enough to pay for his skills, and toss them down onto the table.
Turning to the body still stretched out on the bed, I reach down between the headboard and the mattress and untie him. "Just might have to do this again, sometime," I say, spinning on my heel and exiting the room without a backward glance.
After a slow count of five, I reenter my hotel room to find my Boy exactly where I left him: lying on his back in the middle of the bed with his arms stretched over his head, his legs splayed wide and his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
It never fails to amaze me that this beautiful young man has given me his submission and this time is no different. A gentle smile graces my face as I approach the bed. "Baby Boy?" I call softly because if he's fallen asleep I refuse to disturb him at this time.
Ever since I asked if he'd ever consider wearing my collar he hasn't slept well. I can't figure out a reason for it and so I insist he rest as often as possible, even going so far as to allow him to sleep in the bed with me instead of on his pallet.
"Mm, Master," he mutters, stretching his body sensually from the tips of his fingers to the tips of his toes. "Was that what you wanted?"
"Oh, Baby Boy!" I chuckle, taking a baby wipe and cleaning the dried come off his chest. "It was more than I could have imagined." I lean down and place a chaste kiss to his lips. "You were perfect, as always."
He blushes and tries to hide his face in the pillow under his head. "Will we do it again?"
"Oh, you can count on that!" I sit down on the mattress and run one hand possessively down his side, squeezing his right ass cheek when he rolls to his side in an effort to be closer to me. "I want to take you to a club. A special one where we can be ourselves and I can show you off."
"As you wish, Master." So very agreeable, my Baby Boy.
"It'll take me a few days to work it out, have to make sure we can have at least two days in a row off together."
"Hm," he hums and I can tell I'm about to lose him to slumber.
Swallowing a snicker, I pull the covers up and tuck him in. "Sleep, Baby Boy," I murmur, pressing a loving kiss to his temple.
I hate having to leave him after we've 'played' but I have rounds and two surgeries to prepare for. Not to mention securing the time off for the two of us.
Fucking my Boy always puts me in a good mood and when he asks me to act out a fantasy… well, the mood is increased a hundred fold. And so it is with a whistle and a little dance, I make my way down the hall to the elevator.
Before I left my room, I texted Sophia from his phone that he wouldn't be at work, even though I don't have to take such precautions since she knows he practically lives with me. Normally I wouldn't let a co-worker know such intimate details of my life, even if said co-worker is my boss, but we ran into each one night a few years back when I was at a club looking for a temporary submissive and she was there to show off her current one.
We decided that as long as our extracurricular activities don't interfere with our work at the hospital, we will forget we saw each other there that night. And just to make sure I'm not in that embarrassing position again, I stopped going to those clubs and instead started going to bars and picking up pretty boys who looked like they wanted to know if they could submit or not.
Until I met Baby Boy.
The very first time I laid eyes on him I knew he was mine but I wasn't looking for what he so obviously needs so I did my best to ignore the way he seemed to call to me. I was still trying to get back with Rena and he would just be a huge complication that would definitely put an end to that.
But then Miranda told me what happened when they went to procure the organs and I knew I wasn't going to be able to deny him. Finding him in the locker room later, I made a decision that I have yet to regret and am now thinking of making permanent by collaring him. Thinking of collaring him has me making a mental note to check with the desk to see if the package has arrived yet.
Rounds go smoothly with two patients being well enough to be discharged, one should be able to go home in another day and three should go by the end of the week. The daily UNOS meeting goes as expected, except I don't have any new patients to add to the list for the first time in a while. Then after lunch it's time for the two surgeries of the day.
The first is a routine quadruple bypass, the man's third bypass. Only reason I still perform surgery on him is because he's actually a healthy man in his prime. He eats right, runs several miles a day, just has the bad luck of having a family history of heart disease which causes cholesterol to clog his arteries.
"You're humming." Pam's laughing voice breaks through my concentration.
"Hm?" I hum, glancing up over the lenses of my glasses at her.
"You. Are. Humming," she repeats slowly like I'm a child. "And you're smiling."
"Just what are you saying, Nurse Acosta?"
"Just that you don't usually smile during surgery, Dr. Yablonski." I can see the crinkles around her eyes that signify her own smile.
I give a small shrug and return to suturing the vein in place. "Had a good morning."
"So I heard."
Only years of practice at hiding my reactions keeps me from twitching and nicking the vein I just turned into an artery. "Oh? What exactly did you hear?" I purposely keep my voice neutral.
"That you were able to discharge two patients and didn't have any new ones to add to the UNOS list."
"Yeah. Great isn't it?" I finish tying off the sutures and step back. "Okay, let's take him off heart/lung." With one eye on the monitors and one on his heart, I hold my breath waiting for the muscle to contract and start sending blood through his body. When it doesn't beat on its own after a couple of seconds, I tap it lightly with my forceps. "C'mon. Don't do this." A second tap and I see that beautiful contraction that tells me I've done my job and allowed my patient to go home to his family. "Beautiful," I breathe, starting to close his chest. The rest of the surgery is done in silence and when I set the final suture over his sternum, I look up at my nurses and say, "Good job, everyone" and get smiles and laughter in return.
It's always a head rush to have someone's heart in your hands and to know that because of you they'll be alive the next day.
After washing up, I head out to the waiting room to let my patient's family know that he came through the surgery just fine and they'll be able to see him once he gets settled in recovery.
I have almost an hour before my next surgery, a valve replacement on a six year-old girl, and I seriously think about going upstairs to look in on my Boy but then decide against it because I'll want to fuck his pretty mouth and that would put me at risk of being late for surgery. So I head to the break room instead and grab myself a snack before heading to my patient's room to see how she's doing, pleased to see that her eyes keep trying to shut as she fights the effects of the sedative.
Her valve replacement happens to be one of the surgeries I do the most often but even so it takes all my concentration due to her young age. Because of this the operating room is silent except for the beeping of the monitors and the swish of the ventilator and the gurgle of the heart/lung machine.
A glance at the clock tells me that I've performed the replacement with time to spare and I thank my lucky stars that the surgery was textbook perfect. "Okay, let's take her off heart/lung," I say, peering into her chest and holding my breath while waiting for her tiny heart to start contracting on its own.
A second goes by and I raise the forceps in my hand, intending to tap it, when it begins beating on its own. "Gorgeous." I set the last stitch and then look around at my operating staff. "Great work, everyone."
After washing up from the surgery, I head back to my patient's room to let her parents know that she came through just fine and a nurse will be by once she's settled into recovery to take them to see her.
My day ends with final rounds which reinforce my findings from this morning: I have four patients who will be ready to go home by week's end.
A sense of accomplishment settles around me as I head to the locker room to wash the day away and change my clothes before heading up to my sleeping Boy.
I can't help but whistle a little tune while I wait for the elevator, this really has been an exceptional day and now I'm off to fuck my Boy into the mattress.
With a ding the doors open to reveal Sophia standing there. Surprise flashes across her face for just a split second. "Sophia," I say, stepping into the car and pushing the button that will take me to the hotel lobby.
"Andy." She turns to face me, her brows lowered over her nose. "You've been in an awfully good mood today."
Her comment startles a laugh out of me. "Is it against the rules for me to be in a good mood?"
She shrugs. "No, just that you haven't been in this good a mood for some time." She tilts her head, looking at me like she's never seen me before. "Does this have something to do with Ryan?"
I rock back on my heels. "It might."
"Andy," she says warningly.
"Okay, okay. Yes, it has everything to do with Ryan."
"And this good mood, I'm guessing, has to do with the reason you called him in sick." She makes it a statement, not a question, but I answer her anyway.
"In a way. He hasn't been sleeping well lately and when he fell asleep almost immediately after this morning, I didn't have the heart to wake him."
"Uh-huh." She nods her head in understanding.
"Oh, I've been meaning to speak with you all day," I begin.
"Sure you have. It's not like we work together and you didn't have dozens of opportunities to speak with over the course of the day."
I quirk a smile at her and ignore her sarcasm. "We need a couple of days off next week."
"No." She doesn't even think about it.
"You want to think about that for a second or two, first?"
"I'm sorry, Andy, but I can't spare you next week."
"Why not?"
"You have four surgeries scheduled."
"One valve replacement, one pace maker replacement, and two angioplasties. They can all be rescheduled. It's not like any of them need those surgeries on the days they're currently scheduled."
"Except they do." She reaches out and pushes the emergency stop button before turning to face me and placing her hand on my arm. "We have a full schedule of surgeries next week, Andy. There isn't any other time for them."
I chew my bottom lip to keep from saying something I know I'll regret. When I look back up at her, I can tell I need to tell her the truth about my relationship with Baby Boy. "He really needs the time off, Sophia. He hasn't slept well in months and I'm starting to feel guilty every time I 'play' with him."
She blinks at me. "I hadn't realized it was that serious. Have you collared him yet?"
"Just waiting on the collar to arrive." I can feel my face heating with a blush at admitting just how much he means to me.
"So you need the time off for the collaring ceremony?"
"No. The collaring will be private, just the two of us. But I do want to take him to the club and show him off."
"I thought you didn't like people looking at your property."
I shrug. "Usually I don't, but there's just something about him…" I shake my head. "I can't quite put my finger on it but I want others to be jealous that he's mine."
She laughs. "Oh, Andy." She reaches up and pats my cheek. "You're in love, dear boy."
In love? Me? Not possible. Or is it? I know I love him, but am I really in love with him? Taking a deep breath, I think back on each and every encounter I've had with him, both in the bedroom and out, and come to the same conclusion: I've fallen head over heel for the boy and I want others to know it. "Well, fuck," I mutter, reaching out to start the elevator again.
"It's not as bad as all that," Sophia tells me. "I can't give you time off next week, but I can give you two days the following week. Would you like Tuesday and Wednesday or Wednesday and Thursday?"
"I'll take Wednesday and Thursday." I'd rather have Friday and Saturday but she didn't give me that option.
"Very well. I'll put it on the calendar."
"Thanks, Sophia," I say just as the doors open to revel the lobby. I step out and turn to wave good-bye. "See ya tomorrow," we both say at the same time.
Approaching the front desk, I see Patty is on duty. I know most of the hotel staff by name, I do live here after all, and Patty happens to be one I like the most. "Evening, Patty," I greet, leaning against the desk.
"Evening, Dr. Yablonski," she replies, a slight blush tinting her cheeks.
"I was wondering…" I begin.
"You have a package, Doctor," she speaks over me and we both laugh.
"I was going to have one of the bellhops leave it in your room but housekeeping said you have the 'do not disturb' sign up."
"Yeah, I had a friend spend the night and didn't want them disturbed if they chose to sleep the day away."
"Ah." She turns to the mail slots behind the desk and picks up the cardboard box along with the few envelopes that are in my slot and hands them to me. "Well, have a good evening, Doctor."
"You, too." I tuck the box under my arm and flip through the envelopes on my way to the elevators that'll take me to my floor. Most of my mail is bills, mostly things I told Rena I'd continue paying for until the divorce is final. I'll need to get them paid in a few days but for now I don't have to think about anything other than collaring Baby Boy and fucking his pretty brains out.
I enter the room and am almost trampled by him as he's trying to leave. "Whoa, where's the fire?" I grab his arms to help steady him on his feet.
"I can't believe I slept through my shift! Dr. Jordan must be pissed at me."
"Calm yourself, Baby Boy." His brows lower in a frown of confusion and I run one finger over the wrinkles, trying to smooth them out. "I called you in sick."
"But… why?" It's obvious he's still mostly asleep because otherwise he'd never have questioned me.
"Because you fell asleep almost immediately after and haven't been sleeping well the past couple of months. I figured you need the sleep and decided to let you have it." He opens his mouth and I place one finger against his lips. "You are not allowed to speak." He actually growls and narrows his eyes at that. I chuckle at his childish reaction to my dominance and lean forward to press a kiss to his lips.
"Seeing as how you're already dressed, how about we go out to dinner?" His eyes open wide at my suggestion. We've never been out together and while I know he knows this won't be a typical date it is a bit of a reward to take him out and allow people to see us together. He nods, a stunning smile breaking across his face. "Go grab the money I left on the bedside table." I turn him around and send him on his way with a pat to his ass.
When he returns, I help him into his jacket then shrug into my own before escorting him out the door.
The restaurant I have in mind isn't far and so I decide we'll walk. I don't hold his hand or put my arm around his waist but I do walk close enough that our hands brush and he has no doubts that if I felt comfortable doing so, I would be doing one or the other.
The steakhouse is busy for a Monday, but that just shows how good the food here is. "Dr. Yablonski!" the pretty red-headed hostess greets.
"Evening, Amy. Busy tonight."
"That we are. How many?"
"Two."
"It'll be about twenty minutes." She puts my name down on the list.
"That's fine. We'll wait in the bar." With one hand on the small of my Boy's back, I lead him from the entrance over to the bar area where we sit on the two remaining empty seats. I signal the bartender to bring us two beers and then turn to engage in one of my favorite activities: watching my Boy.
"Stop," he whispers, his cheeks bright pink.
I lean closer so that only he can hear. "Can't help it. You're fucking gorgeous."
It's telling of how far we've come that he doesn't instantly deny it, just ducks his head and blushes even more. When I first took him he had extremely low self-esteem from his previous Dominant constantly putting him down and it's taken me quite a while to convince him that he was wrong.
"When we get back, I'm going to tie you up and whip you then fuck your pretty little brains out. Will you scream for me, Baby Boy?" He shivers and nods. "Good." I feel the urge to kiss his cheek and decide to not resist it and earn myself a surprised glance before he leans in and brushes a chaste kiss of his own to my lips. I smile my pleasure at his gesture but before I can say anything my name is called.
We follow Amy into the dining area and over to a table for two set near a window. I hold his chair, again earning myself a surprised look, before sitting down myself and accepting the menu Amy hands me. "I'll send one of the runners right over with some bread," she says, turning to do just that.
"Thanks, Amy." I place the menu down on the table and fold my arms over it so that I'm leaning on the table and just stare at my Boy.
"You have got to stop that," he says but the smile on his face tells me he doesn't really mind.
"You have to get used to it. When I take you to the club all kinds of people will be looking at you." He opens his menu and holds it up so that he can hide behind it and I just laugh at his antics. "Oh, Baby Boy, you please me so very much." His menu quivers a little when his hands start to shake and I reach out and remove it from his lax fingers. "Much better," I murmur once I can see his face again.
He keeps his gaze on where his fingers are playing with his silverware and I allow him this tiny bit of defiance. I know I have his full attention even if he's not looking at me just like I'm always hyper aware of where he is in relation to me at any given moment.
My contemplation of the different shades of brown in his hair is interrupted by the runner bringing a small cutting board covered by a loaf of black wheat bread, a wicked looking bread knife and a tiny cup of garlic butter. I cut the end of the loaf off and butter it before placing it on his plate. That has him looking up at me. Of course it's with a frown, but at least he's making eye contact again.
I don't have to explain a thing to him, and he knows it, so my raised eyebrow tells him exactly what he needs to know. Even though we're in public and he's to call me 'Andy' and we're acting like a regular couple, he's still mine and he will obey me. Not that he'd ever not eat just that he's not used to being served first. That may be how I like it in private but out here, I want everyone to know that he is loved, cherished, adored and that I pamper him, even if my version of pampering isn't what 'normal' people consider pampering.
I know he must be starving since he hasn't eaten since I feed him some of my breakfast this morning but even so the manners his mother raised him with, and that I have reinforced with my training, have him nibbling on the bread like he's merely hungry instead of hungry.
We've each had two slices of the delicious bread when a good looking man in his mid-thirties with messy black hair approaches. "Hi, I'm John and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you anything to drink?"
"We'll have a bottle of your best burgundy."
"Very good, Sir." John shows just how good a waiter his is by not writing anything down. "Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?"
I hear Baby Boy swallow the bite he's still chewing but I start speaking before he can. "We'll take a double order of mozzarella sticks to start, then I'll have the New York Strip, medium, with corn and green beans."
"And your salad?"
"Caesar."
"Very good. And you, Sir?" He turns to look at where Baby Boy's still frantically chewing.
"He'll have the sirloin, also medium, autumn vegetable medley and fried okra."
"And for the salad?"
"He'll have the house with ranch dressing on the side."
"Very good, Sir." John takes our menus and I purposely ignore Baby Boy's gaze while I drain my beer bottle.
After several seconds, I sigh and roll my eyes from our reflection in the window to his face. "Ask."
"Why'd you order for me?"
"Because I know what you need. And I won't be able to feed you tonight. I wanted to make sure you had food you'd enjoy eating."
"But now that guy thinks I can't make up my own mind."
"Or that you'd already told me your order and I didn't want you choking on your too large bite of bread."
His face flushes at the obvious reprimand in that statement. "Or that," he mumbles, toying with the napkin in his lap. I'm positive if it wasn't a linen one it'd be in tatters right about now.
I lean across the table and hold out my hand, palm up, pleased when he doesn't even hesitate to give me both of his. "Ryan,-" I don't often call him that, even in public and he flinches a bit. "-relax. Tonight's all about being out together and to get you used to being in public with me outside of work. In two weeks we'll be spending an evening at a club and you can't be this jumpy there or they'll eat us both alive. Do you understand?" He nods, jerking his hands from mine when John returns with our wine.
If John has a problem with us holding hands, he doesn't let it show, another sign he's an excellent waiter. He uncorks the bottle and hands it to me for my approval. A quick sniff tells me it smells perfect and I motion for him to pour a measure into my glass. I take a sip, then swish it around my mouth for a moment before declaring it fit for my Boy's consumption and motion for John to fill both our glasses.
"Your appetizer should be out shortly. Is there anything else I can get you for now?"
"Yes, I forgot to go ahead and order dessert."
A small, barely there smile crosses John's face. "And what would that be, Sir?"
"A slice of the chocolate cake."
"Just the one slice?"
"We'll be sharing it."
A smirk replaces the smile on John's face. "Of course, Sir." He spins on his heel and disappears to the other side of the room.
"He knows," Baby Boy whispers, his voice tinged with what sounds like embarrassment.
"Why does that embarrass you? Do you think he thinks less of you for being my Boy?" He shrugs, refusing to meet my eyes, again. I reach out and tilt his chin up with two fingers. "What do you care what a complete stranger thinks of you or what we do when we're alone?"
"You don't understand," he says and I can hear the hint of tears in his voice. I refuse to let him cry in public, his tears are for me and me alone, so I drop his chin and the subject.
"You can help me understand when we get home, then." He nods, even though his agreement isn't necessary and our conversation is interrupted again by the arrival of the mozzarella sticks.
I pick one up and blow on it before dipping it in the marinara sauce and offering it to Baby Boy. He looks around before quickly leaning forward to take a tentative bite of the fried cheese. "Mm," he hums, wiping a drip of sauce from his chin as he sits back in his chair. "It's good. You should try it, Sir."
I dip what remains of the stick of fried cheese in the sauce and pop it into my mouth. "Not as good as you," I murmur once I've swallowed my mouthful.
To give Baby Boy his due, he doesn't blush but he does duck his head. "If you say so."
"Oh, I do. And I'll show you tonight." It's something I've been wanting to do for a while and I think tonight's the perfect time to do it.
We finish off the cheese, with me giving in and letting Baby Boy feed himself. For several minutes we're in our own little world and we lean close to each other over the table until John arrives to remove the appetizer plate in favor of our salads. Once those are finished, with me having to feed him more bites than I like, the plates are removed and John informs us that it'll be several more minutes before our steaks are finished.
While we wait, I manage to convince my Boy to let me hold his hands on top of the table again. Sensing his unease about the whole evening, I rub soothing circles on his knuckles with my thumb and watch as he slowly relaxes. Until we're interrupted by the wait staff. Every time one of them approaches our table he stiffens again and I have to start all over to get him to relax enough to enjoy himself.
Eventually our steaks arrive and I have to give up his hands in favor of allowing him to eat. I watch him carefully to make sure he takes a bite of everything. Unfortunately one bite is all he takes of everything on his plate. "More," I order. He just looks at me. "Don't give me that look. I gave you very little for breakfast. You have to eat more than one bite." He sighs, but does as ordered and I can tell he's forcing himself to chew and swallow. "Ryan?" I put one hand over his, stopping him for putting another bite of okra in his mouth.
He puts his fork down and finishes swallowing the bite he's chewing. "I'm not very hungry, Sir."
I narrow my eyes at him and then it hits me. The little I feed him has caused his stomach to shrink and it takes less to fill him up. "That's okay. We have time to sit here until you feel like eating a bit more. What you don't finish now, we'll take with us."
He nods and takes a sip of his wine, just barely hiding the grimace. "Problem with the wine?"
He shakes his head. "No. I just don't like red wine."
"Ah." I raise my hand and John is at my side in an instant.
"Yes, Sir?"
"My date doesn't care for the wine I selected. Please bring him a bottle of beer."
"Right away, Sir." And again John shows just how good he is at his job by melting silently away.
"You didn't-" he begins but I talk over him with, "Of course I did. You don't like wine so you don't have to drink it."
I reach out and tap the back of his hand to get him to look at me. "You don't have a problem letting me know you don't like something when we're alone, so why did you force yourself to drink something you can't stand?"
He sucks his lower lip in between his teeth and drops his gaze and I know that he's been keeping something from me. "Talk to me."
He looks out the window at the people passing by. "That thing you do after we have sex?" He says it all vague like but I know exactly what he's talking about so I just respond with, "Yeah?" He clears his throat and turns to meet my eyes. "I don't like it. I find it extremely embarrassing."
I frown at him. "I do that to check for tears."
"I know, but-" he falters and I can see him searching for just the right words without getting too graphic since we are in public. "I don't like the feel of, ya know,-" he wags one hand back and forth. "-dribbling down my, ya know." His face is red enough to stop traffic but I'm proud of him for finally telling me this.
"Huh." I suck on my top teeth. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"
He rolls his eyes. "It's a minor annoyance."
"Obviously not!" I counter. "I can certainly do it in such a way that it doesn't dribble out."
This seems to surprise him. "Really?"
My answer is interrupted by John returning with Baby Boy's beer. "How is everything?"
"Excellent but I think we need to take the rest home. And the cake as well."
"Absolutely." John grins at us before turning on his heel and heading off to get us some take home boxes and the check.
Leaning over the table I say, "Baby Boy," to get him to focus on me again. "I told you in the beginning that if you don't like something I do to tell me. This isn't just about me and my pleasure. When are you going to learn that your pleasure fuels mine?"
He just shakes his head but any response he might have made is halted by John's arrival with the boxes and the check.
Pulling enough money from my wallet to cover our bill and leave an above average tip for John, the man more than earned it, I stand up and drop the bills on the table, then assist Baby Boy from his chair, letting my hands linger on his shoulders.
As we leave the restaurant I can feel every eye on us and I know that every woman, and some of the men, envies me going home with him.
When we get back to my room, I pick the package up from the table where I dropped it a couple of hours ago and turn to tell him, "Go do what you need to, then come back out here."
With a nod, he steps around me and enters the bedroom area. Knowing he'll do exactly what's expected, I leave him to it and set about setting up the area in the living room. I turn the lights down low and toss a pillow onto the floor, he may be used to kneeling without the cushion of a pillow but that's for everyday stuff. For the collaring ceremony he deserves that comfort. Once satisfied the room is to my liking, I kick off my shoes and remove my jacket, rolling up my sleeves. Sitting down on the couch, I open the cardboard box and pull out the velvet jeweler's box, fighting the temptation to open it and make sure it's exactly as I requested.
I stand up when I hear him walking out of the bedroom, naked as the day he was born. In just a few minutes he'll never be that naked ever again. The sight of my beautiful Baby Boy walking confidently across the room, his impressive erection leading the way, has my breath catching in my throat and my heart beating faster.
"Kneel here," I tell him, pointing at the pillow on the floor next to the coffee table. Once he's settled, I step closer, clearing my throat of the tears that are threatening. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" I question softly, threading the fingers of one hand in his hair and tilting his head back so I can capture his lips with mine. "So very beautiful," I murmur, trailing my fingers down the side of his face.
"Do you remember that day a couple of months ago when I asked if you'd ever consider wearing my collar?" I wait for him to nod and can see a tiny shiver course down his spine when he figures out what's about to happen. "Well, it took me longer than I planned to find exactly what I was looking for. When I finally found it, the vendor was out of stock so it just arrived today." I open the case and turn it to where he can see the chain lying on the velvet bed inside. "I know I said it wouldn't be a dog collar and really it's not. It is styled after a choke chain, but it's made for a human. The company that makes it promotes it on the alternative lifestyle websites and in leather magazines." I realize I'm rambling when he grins at me. "Sorry. Guess I'm more nervous than I thought I'd be." I sit down on the end of the coffee table and take a deep breath. "Ryan Abbott, will you wear my collar?"
His smile turns loving and he bows his head, offering me his neck. I have to take a second to get myself back under control at how trusting he is in this moment. How beautiful he is kneeling there with his head bowed, completely naked and vulnerable.
Taking the collar from its box with shaking hands, I say the words that will bind him to me for the rest of his life while pulling the chain through one of the rings to form a loop. "I promise to not ever take the gift that is your submission for granted. I promise that your every want and need will be met from now until the day you die. I promise that if you trust in me, I will make you as happy as you make me." I slip the chain over his head, pleased that it goes on like it was made specifically for him, and pull it tight. Reaching into the case, I pull out the tiny lock that comes with the chain and lock it in place, removing the key and setting it aside for now, then run one finger between the chain and his neck to make sure it's not too tight.
"How does that feel?"
"Like coming home," he replies with a dreamy sigh, his eyes closing in bliss.
I let him bask for about a minute, then nudge him to get on with the ceremony. With an apologetic smile, he leans down and places his forehead on my bare feet. "I freely and without reservation give you my submission from now until the day I die. I promise to never give you reason to regret offering me your collar. I promise to cater to your every whim. I promise to be on my best behavior and to take any punishments you deem necessary without complaint. I promise to always trust you to give me what I need over what I want. I promise to make you as happy as you make me." He places a chaste kiss to the top of each foot before resuming the proper position.
My throat is clogged with tears and I find I don't have the energy to hold them back and so just let them flow freely down my cheeks. When he lifts his head, I can see that he also has tears streaming down his face. I reach out and gently wipe them away. "Thank you, Baby Boy," I whisper, leaning forward to press my lips to his.
He opens his lips in invitation and I take him up on it, thrusting my tongue deep inside to sweep the moist depths before pulling back, shushing him when he whimpers. "We're not done, yet." Reaching behind me I pick up the cardboard box and hand it to him. "This part is for you."
His collar came with a chain for the key and everything I read said the submissive should offer it to the Dominant, sort of like a double ring wedding ceremony.
He reaches into the box and pulls out the plastic zip lock bag that contains the chain for the key. Removing it from the bag, he opens the clasp and slips the key on. I can see him struggling to keep his emotions in check and watch him shudder as he thinks about the importance of what he's about to do.
After about a minute, he squares his shoulders, holds the chain up and looks me in the eye. "Andrew Yablonski will you wear the key to my collar and my heart?"
I don't remember ever smiling so much, or so big, and even though my cheeks hurt, I can't stop. "I will gladly wear the key to your collar and your heart," I say and lean forward so he can fasten the chain around my neck.
His fingers linger on my skin and I look deep into his eyes. Suddenly I'm hit with the need to tell him exactly how I feel but I find the words strangely trapped in the back of my throat. "Ryan…"
"Shush." He trails his fingers down my cheek to rest against my lips. "You don't have to say it."
"I feel like I should. Like this moment requires it."
"But it doesn't."
"How can it not? I didn't cry when I married Rena but I did tell her. Several times."
His smile widens. "But you weren't in love with her."
I swallow thickly. "How do you know?"
He laughs softly. "Oh, Andy." He leans in to press a gentle kiss to my lips. "You tell me a hundred different times a day in a hundred different ways." I can only shake my head. How is it possible that everyone knew this about me before I did? "I knew you loved me the first time you touched me. Remember, in the locker room? And then the night you had to punish me for breaking protocol, I knew you had fallen in love with me."
Pressing my forehead to his, I cup his face and just breathe his scent and revel in the fact that he's mine, for now and always. "I've never had a problem saying it before so why now?"
"Because you've never truly been in love before."
Pulling on his face, I tilt my head and seal my mouth to his, kissing him long and deep, taking possession of his mouth just like I take possession of his body. Breaking the kiss, I say, "Guess it's time to get on with the 'wedding night'." I open my pants and pull out my erection. He licks his lips and goes willingly when I push against the back of his head, sucking me in deep and curling his tongue around my dick just the way I taught him.
I lean back on one hand and let him do what he wants for a few minutes. With a gentle tug to his hair, I pull him off and he actually whines as I slip from his mouth. "Don't wanna come in that pretty mouth of yours, Boy. Wanna come in that fabulous ass that now belongs to me."
"Heart, body and soul, Master," he murmurs, trying to climb onto my lap.
"Not here. This table will never hold our combined weight," I say, pushing him off and standing just long enough to discard my pants and turn to sit on the couch.
As soon as my ass hits the cushions, he's straddling me and gripping my face tightly between his hands so he can shove his tongue down my throat. Normally I wouldn't let him take the lead like this, but tonight isn't solely about his submission to me; it's about us becoming one.
While he's busy sucking on my tongue, I point my cock at his hole and push him down until he's fully impaled. Even with the prep I require of him, he's still tight and I know it hurts. I've never entered him in one thrust before but he's a good little submissive and chokes off a cry of pain before it can fully form.
I don't let him get accustomed to me filling him, just slap his ass, urging him to move. He does everything he knows I love, alternating up and down with rocking side to side and wiggling in a circle.
I can't seem to stop touching him and he appears to have the same problem. He isn't usually allowed to touch but, again, tonight's not about his submission. Tonight I plan on making love to the man I'm in love with. I've never actually made love to anyone, not even Rena, and it's quite an experience.
He slowly unbuttons my shirt and begins kissing his way across my chest, stopping to suckle my nipples before gently biting them.
After several minutes it becomes obvious that neither of us is going to come in this position, not anytime soon, so I grab his ass in my hands and flip us so that he's lying on his back on the couch with me leaning over him.
The instant his back touches the cushions I'm reminded of having Rena in this same position a couple of months ago. I knew he could probably hear us but I didn't care. I was angry with him for breaking protocol and forcing me to punish him. Plus I was denying my feelings; refusing to admit, even to myself, that I was in love.
"Ryan…" I have no idea what I should say, if anything at all, but he puts one finger to my lips again and smiles at me.
"I know, Andy. I knew then. Before you fucked her. But you were angry, and rightly so, and used her to 'get back at me', as it were." He chews his bottom lip and I just can't help but suck the hurt away, pulling a moan from deep within him. "Not…done…talking…" He pushes on my shoulder until I lean back so we can look into each other's eyes again. "You were refusing to acknowledge at that time, even though she'd been trying to tell you, that your marriage to her had been over for a while. You knew deep down that you were in love with me and it scared you so you were holding tight to something that no longer existed."
One eyebrow climbs my forehead. "Wow. What is your degree in again?" We both laugh, then moan at the sensation.
Burying my head in his neck, I get back to the business of claiming his body. Sweat breaks out on our skin as we rock against one another, racing toward the big finish. I lick a stripe up his neck, then nibble on his ear. "Make me come," I whisper, thrusting in as deep as I can.
He gasps and wraps his legs high around my hips, digging his heels into my ass. His hands grip my back tightly and I know I'm going to have bruises tomorrow but I don't care, it's not like anyone'll see them. His head is thrown back, baring his neck to my questing lips and he tightens around me until I can hardly move. "Don't wait too long, Baby Boy," I grunt, rising up on my fists over him to slam repeatedly into his ass.
His eyes roll back into his head just seconds before his dick begins spurting all over his chest, the contractions of his ass pulling my own orgasm from me.
The world blacks out for several minutes and when I come to, I'm lying boneless on top of him with him slowly stroking a fingertip up and down the indent of my spine and nuzzling my hair. When I shift in preparation of rolling off him, he tightens his arms. "I have to be squishing you. Just going to shift so you can breathe."
"I can breathe just fine, Master." He squeezes his ass muscles and I'm surprised to find myself still lodged inside and starting to get hard again.
"No," I say, pulling out and standing from the couch. He sulks up at me. "Don't," I order.
He lowers his eyes and sighs. "As you wish, Master." He rolls from the couch and begins crawling to the bedroom.
"Get up and walk. I wanna watch." A blush spreads across his entire torso at my words but he does as told and rolls gracefully to his feet and continues on to the bedroom. "Oh, Andy, what have you gotten yourself into now?" I mutter, following after my beautiful submissive.
I enter the bedroom to find him lying on his stomach on top of a towel in the center of the bed. I'm touched that he remembered I like to do this. Approaching the bed, I keep in mind that he doesn't like the feel of my come dribbling down his balls. I climb onto the bed and shove his legs further apart to give me room to lie between them.
Licking around his balls, I pull his cheeks apart before shoving my tongue in deep and sucking my come from his body. He groans at the sensation and I can feel the tiny tremors that betray his tenuous hold on his control. With a grunt of satisfaction, I suck harder, adding a touch of my teeth, causing him to lose his control and sob out his climax. "Heart, body and soul, Baby Boy," I remind him, pushing one finger in to check for tears. Satisfied that there are none, I stand from the bed and head to the bathroom. "Are you coming?" A soft thud tells me that his legs are still a bit wobbly from his second orgasm and refused to hold his weight when he got off the bed and I just smirk that I did that; I took him apart in no time and with my fucking tongue.
While bathing his body, I remember he still has to tell me why he cared what strangers think of us being together but it's getting late and we both have to work tomorrow. Finally deeming us both clean enough, I prod him from the shower and dry him off before shooing him off to bed.
He looks at me over his shoulder, a frown on his face. "Testing my patience already?" I demand, resting my hands on my hips.
He drops his gaze, says, "Forgive me, Master" and walks over to the bed. He doesn't even hesitate, just kneels down and pulls his pallet from under the bed.
"Did I tell you to do that?" His head snaps up. It's obvious he thought that things would go back to the way they were. "I want you in that bed. What if I wake during the night with a hard on? Am I supposed to wake you so you can get in the bed? Or get on the floor to fuck you? I think not. I own you now. You are to be ready for me to fuck you whenever, wherever I want."
He's not quick enough to hide the satisfied smile on his face. "Yes, Master," he purrs, pushing the pallet back under the bed before climbing up onto it and crawling under the covers.
I walk through the hotel room, turning off lights and putting the room back to rights before joining him in the bed. Settling on my side, I wrap my arms around him and pull him back against me, shoving one leg between his, pressing my knee tight against his balls and brush a kiss to the back of his head.
Eventually his breathing evens out and I find myself following him into slumber.