Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I did come up with the plot. I do, however, own a very dashing Daddy C poster, which I may or may not kiss good morning every day. ;)
Summary: Arrogant, talented and young Edward Masen discovers he doesn't need to be in control all the time, and Dr. Cullen will show him how simple following orders can be.
Warnings: SLASH/BDSM/LANGUAGE/NSFW/GRAPHIC LEMONS
CONFESSIONS
The school year was coming to a close, and my parents asked me to invite Carlisle to the party they'd decided to throw in my honor before the graduation ceremony. They wanted to celebrate the fact that not only was I early accepted into Julliard, but also there were three symphonies fighting over me to perform with them over the summer; two of them were in Europe. So, like the good son and pupil, I offered to deliver the invitation; but instead of mailing it, I decided to give it to Carlisle personally.
Yes, I could call him Carlisle now. At least, inside my head.
Ever since his generous gift, things had started to change, and I'd come to see Carlisle in a different light. I started noticing more things about his personality, like how he always drank tea instead of coffee, how he always twirled the pen in his fingers absentmindedly when he was reading something interesting, how his eyes tended to change color according to the light - my favorite being the blue they acquired inside the music room. Because of all these observations, I'd come to realize I was completely and irrevocably infatuated with the man.
Actually, as my sister Alice told me, I was a lovesick teenager with a need to release a lot of sexual tension. (That was the last time I asked for her help with shopping for more clothes to impress Carlisle.) Once I had finally confessed my growing attraction to my tutor to Alice, it'd helped me realize that I had no idea if he was even a little bit attracted to me. I needed to formulate a plan to find out if he indeed felt anything for me, hence the shopping with Alice.
Yes, I'm such a tease…
The next time I went to class, wearing my new fitted clothes, I noticed Carlisle staring at me with a hungry look in his eyes as I played the piano, and I'd even heard him groan when I bent down to pick up my bag, which confirmed my suspicions.
He was attracted to me, too.
After that, the dreams started. By now, I'd woken up almost every night - more than once - from a very hot and sexy dream, and I'd barely been able to resist screaming his name when I had to take care of the raging hard on produced by said dreams.
I was fucked, and not in the good sense.
I needed to do something to get his attention.
I sighed and picked up the invitation to the party.
Maybe I could say something to him at the party, or maybe I should just ask him out.
He was no longer my teacher after all.
Shrugging, I took my coat out of the closet and put on my boots. It had been raining non-stop for two days, but right now it seemed like it had finally stopped.
I took advantage of the good weather and raced to Carlisle's house, since I only had a few minutes to see him that afternoon. It was close to noon, and I knew he always left his schedule free from noon until two so I was sure I wouldn't interrupt any class or other activities. I even sent him an email, letting him know that I planned to stop by at that time, so I was pretty sure he'd be expecting me.
Imagine my surprise when I got there and no one answered the door.
I called the house phone. I could hear it ringing inside, but no one answered it.
Not knowing what to do, I waited for a few minutes outside and then rang the doorbell again.
Nothing.
I considered sliding the invitation into his mailbox, but I feared it might get wet. Besides, I had never seen Carlisle checking his mailbox, since most of his mail was received via FedEx or DHL.
I pondered what to do, debating if I should let myself in.
Then it started raining again.
Fuck it, I thought and walked into the house.
The first thing I noticed was the wet floor down the hallway to the music room, the water started by the door to the basement. A door that in all my time coming here had remained locked.
Until now.
Now said door sat wide open, and if the water on the floor told me anything, it was that perhaps Carlisle had had plumbing problems.
I bit my lip and thought for about 0.5 seconds before I started walking to the door and climbing down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was a small and very organized room with garden equipment and another set of stairs that probably led to the kitchen. But, there was another door on the wall to my left that caught my eye. That door was slightly open and I could see small puddles of water inside. I pushed the door open and looked inside.
I blinked.
Then my jaw hit the floor.
Now, I was a very curious teenager, always had been. Therefore, I'd seen my fair share of all kinds of porn. Especially during the time when I was trying to figure out the whole being top, bottom or switch thing, which was how I knew exactly what I was looking at in that moment.
It was a playroom.
Not the kind that are considered playgrounds for kids or 'man caves'.
No.
It was a BDSM playroom.
If the four poster bed with black satin sheets and the pulley system attached to the top didn't clue you in, then the bench, sex swing, and St. Andrew's cross where a dead giveaway. Still, the room held some sort of elegance that I hadn't seen in any of the videos during my porn surfing. The walls were painted a beautiful dark cerulean, and all the furniture was a dark cherry wood. There were two tall wooden cabinets at the far wall by the cross and a chest of drawers by the bed. The floor was the same dark wood as upstairs, and I could see a door that led to a bathroom to my right.
I'd unconsciously walked further into the room and was inspecting the sex swing that hung at the far left corner of the room, when I suddenly heard his voice.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
I yelped, startled by his sudden appearance, and I spun to face him.
Jesus Christ, he looked pissed.
He stood there, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a black tank that was so tight I could see the definition of a piercing on his left nipple.
Fuck me, how did I not notice that before?
"Well, Mr. Masen?"
"I—I—I was . . . I r-rang th-the door and—"
Fucking hell, think!
He quickly charged inside the room, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, and then dragged outside, slamming the door to the playroom shut on his way out. He threw me against it, both of his hands now fisting my shirt, almost hoisting me up.
"I've tolerated your disobedience for far too long, Mr. Masen."
"But I didn't do anything!"
"SILENCE!" he screamed in my face. "What were you thinking when you came down here, boy? Always too bloody curious for your own good. . . I bet you want something in exchange for keeping this to yourself, don't you?"
I shook my head.
"No? You don't fool me, Mr. Masen. I knew exactly who you were ever since I laid eyes on you. That innocent act you carry around it isn't gonna fool me. So, you'd better tell me what you were planning by coming to my house and snooping around!"
"I swear I don't wan—"
"Don't. Lie. To. Me."
One of his legs then slipped between mine. I could feel his thigh close to my cock, which had gone hard as rock in spite of the circumstances.
It was all him, and I knew it.
His presence and power were a huge turn-on.
He fisted my shirt tighter, my cock making contact with his thigh.
I moaned.
Loudly.
He chuckled. "See, Mr. Masen, I knew you were a very dirty boy."
I gasped at the sound of his voice. It was dark, grave, and commanding. It was fucking hot.
"Tell me, Mr. Masen. What is it exactly that you want?"
I threw my head back, thumping it against the door, his thigh was pressing hard against my cock, and I suddenly felt his teeth on my collarbone.
"Yes . . ." I groaned.
"Tell. Me. NOW!"
I grabbed him by the back of his head and crashed my lips to his, our lips collided together. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I sucked on it with all that I had. I pulled back far too soon, but I needed to say this once and for all.
I trailed my lips up his jaw and then growled in his ear, "I want to suck your cock."
And then he pulled back.
I was left panting, holding myself up against the door.
He stood in front of me, smirking. His eyes stared right into mine, dark with lust, and his hands were flat against the door at each side of my head.
He raised an eyebrow, and chuckled wickedly. "Well, don't keep me waiting, Mr. Masen."
He leaned in and started nibbling up my jaw in the same fashion I did to him. He bit down on my earlobe, hard, and I whimpered. He licked down where he had bitten, and I swear I swayed were I stood. He grabbed my face by the jaw and pulled back again, his face dark and commanding.
He looked straight into my eyes and, in a strict and flat tone of voice, said to me, "On your knees, boy. NOW!"
I dropped to my knees without second thought and rushed to undo his belt. The buttons of his fly followed, my fingers almost popping one of them out in my haste. I almost had a hard attack when I discovered that he was going commando.
His long, thick cock stood at attention. Hard, firm, and waiting.
I moistened my lips as I stared at its magnificence. I wanted to build his cock a fucking temple.
I licked up and down the hard shaft, swirling my tongue around the head and sensitive underside, and played with his balls. He spat out a whispered 'fuck' as his cock slid down the back of my throat. I lapped and sucked him, tasting his salty sweetness as I did.
I'd planned on going slowly, to show him how it felt to be played with, but I just couldn't help myself. This was exactly what I'd dreamed over and over again, night after night for the past months. So, I sucked harder, taking the entirety of his smooth cock in my mouth, moaning as the tip of his head brushed against the back of my throat. I swallowed, my throat tightening, making him groan.
I could feel his eyes on me, watching his cock disappear between my lips.
He put a hand on the back of my head, grabbing my hair hard.
"I'm gonna fuck your mouth, boy . . . would you like that?"
I moaned, his words making me harder than ever. I obeyed and let go, quickly dropping my hands and crossing my arms at my back, giving him full permission to do as he pleased.
"Fuck yes!"
The pace was hard, punishing, and greedy, just like I'd wanted and needed it all my life.
I finally understood what I'd felt all this time.
I'd needed someone to control and use me for his pleasure.
I'd lived for it without knowing it.
He was exactly what I needed.
He was grunting as he hit the back of my throat, his thrusts picking up speed.
"No. Fucking. Gag. Reflex!"
I moaned around his cock again, egging him to fuck my mouth harder and deeper.
I reached up to massage his balls with one hand while keeping the other at my back.
"Fuck!" he cried out. "Swallow it all, boy!"
He thrust one last time in my mouth before coming hard, spurt after spurt sliding down my throat. I swallowed every last drop, then I licked him clean, releasing him from my mouth with a loud 'pop.'
He tucked himself back in, making me pout like a kid who had been denied dessert after dinner, and he chuckled at my expression.
He pushed my face up with a finger beneath my chin, "Such an eager dirty boy. We're so not done here, I promise."
