Dalton (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (20 page)

I catch his crystal, blue gaze with my own and slowly unzip my pants. The sound is loud in the too quiet apartment. I hear the bite of the metal against metal and the pounding of my heart, but the loudest sound in the space is Whitt’s breathing. He
huffs
in puffs of air.
His chest rapidly goes up and down.

I shimmy my jeans down my narrow hips and toss them at Whitt. He catches the pants in his hand, bu
t doesn’t look away from me. I’
m not a muscular man. Most people would find me different than the norm that people find attractive. My otherness is what makes me unique. It’s what turns them on. I have a slight frame and I’m of average height, but
I’
m completely androgynous. Women see the man. Strai
ght men see the pale skin, ruby-
kissed lips, big green eyes, and silky black hair and think woman. Gay men get to pick
what they see- man or woman. I’
m perfect to seduce any gender or orientation. I don’t know what Whitt finds attractive in a man or woman, but I can be either.

I should remove my shirt next and then slowly lower my boxers. I don’t. I drop my boxers to the floor in less than a second. No foreplay or pretense. I show him the thing that man or woman- gay or straight- requested me for, paid to see, and signed their lives away to touch. I stand before him in just a long sleeved shirt with my cock slowly filling with blood from the attention of his gaze.

Whitt gasps in air and his fingers tangle in the covers on my bed.
His reaction has me engorged in the blink of an eye.

“Do you have any idea how many people I’ve been on display for? But they
’ve
never had the look on their face that you have now
,
nor did they see me painfully throbbing for them.” Even as I speak the words my cock throbs violently. The pulse is
visible as it flexes and beats
.
“I’
ve been sucked by countless people and their faces blend together. They were forced on me or I simply obeyed orders. One time I had a mouth on me that I wanted and even that wasn’t by consent- his or mine. You have no idea what it means to me to know you want me as mu
ch as I want you. We may never d
o anything, but the look on your face will be worth it.”

And it is. His face
looks pained. He looks like he’
s gazing on the divine. All the others looked at my cock and their eyes would widen in lust, greed, and sometimes fear.

I saved my chest for last. I worry about the marks on my chest. I know he felt them last night, but seeing in the light ma
y change his thoughts on me. I’
m also covered in tattoos. I do know one thing about Whitt that I learned when we first met. His art is ink on flesh. I tho
ught he would appreciate my art
work more than the foot of flesh
protruding from between my hips. That’s why I saved my canvas for last.

My shirt I do remove slowly. I reveal the ruination of my flesh and the art that is covering it. I pull the shirt over my head slowly to allow my hair to fall around my face and swing
s
until it comes to a rest at my chin.   

I stand on display while he sits on the edge of my bed and h
is eyes greedily devour me. He’
s physically holding himself back. His fingers are twisted in the covers and the tension in his thigh
s looks painful. He’
s even clenching his jaw.
“You can touch if you’d like. That is if you don’t mind the burn marks.” I don’t have time to get the words out. His fingers make contact just as I say
if you’d like.

My eyes close at the contact. His fingertip is tentative and oh so warm and smooth. I
t
warms my soul. Such an innocent touch has my toe
s
curling.

Now I positively know that I did the right thing with Bianca. It wasn’t right for us to touch, to create life. She needs that from someone that makes her feel the way I feel
right
this second.
Even
Sebast
ian’s intimate touch feels muted
in comparison to
Whitt’s
one finger tracing
the spider tattoo over my heart.
“This one is exceptional. A true artist took a lot of care on this tattoo.”  I smile at the husky tone in his voice. I want to cry from happiness that when he looks at me he doesn’t see what everyone else does.

He immediately went for the tattoo that is in honor of my sister. He didn’t touch my cock and leer while he spoke nasty words. I smile wider when a thought comes up. Whit
t is a polite gentleman and he’
s alway
s talking dirty to whomever he’
s
with
in the dungeon. The real Whitt stands here with me- soft, calm, and looking at me in awe. 

“The same artist did all my tattoos. He rented a shop and the owner lost it in a card game to Tony. I gave him the deed. He deserved to know his business was secure. He wouldn’t let me pay him for the work. He put his heart into t
he ink and that’s what I needed.
Each
tattoo symbolizes something for me.”

His fingertips skim my skin as he makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat- almost a p
urr. I smile when I realize he’
s humming
a sound similar to a tattoo gun
. He does the same thing when he inks the M on our new M
asters.

He circles me a few times until he stops at my back.
I know what tattoo he’
s looking at by the way he traces all the intricate lines.
“That one is my lineage,” I say of the perfectly round tattoo covering my right shoulder. All my ink is black and gray shading- no color. When his fingers find the one on my
left shoulder I explain. “That’
s in memoriam of my father.”

I flinch when he finds two tatto
os connecting each other. They’
re for Pierre and Jon.
“What does
venge
r
stand for?” He asks of the tattoo of a knife scrolled with Pierre and Venger.
“It means avenge. With Pierre’s death I avenged my father’s
death
and m
y mother, sister, and my lives.”
“It’s beautifully done- extremely realistic.
De sang froid
?” He slowly tries the words out. His pronunciation is wrong and I smile. I repeat it in French and he says, “It sounds better when you say it.”
  

“It means
In
cold blood
,” I say of Jon’s dagger. He huffs in a breath in understanding. He goes back to studying my flesh.
 

“Why choose a panther in the center of your back?” His fingers trace the outline of the large creature. The cat is above my heart on my back. Spyder is on my chest because she holds my heart.

“It doesn’t look familiar to you,” I chuckle out. “Loo
k closer.”
“Oh, wow! I’m dense-
Devlin.” Devlin is a large black predator with the only color on my body. The cat’s eyes are shaded in pale white-blue. He watches my back just as the man does.

“Where is Olivia’s?”
I raise my arm and show him the demon tat
tooed on my side. “Because she’
s a t
h
orn in my side,” I say before he can ask.

His hand skims
along the tattoo and
he
presses his chest against my back
. My eyes close at the warmth of his contact. He slides both
of his arms around me until he’
s holding me loosely. He buries his face at the nape of my neck. I smile when he rubs his face back and forth moving my hair out of the way of my skin without using his hands. He places a kiss on my neck and I groan.
“I want to ink every inch of your body. You will be my living masterpiece. You have no idea how bad
ly I want that.” He speaks achingly
in
to
my ear.
I lean into his touch. My hand
s
come
up to his arms and I t
wine my fingers with his.
“I’
ll let you. I wo
uld be honored to wear your art,” I say seriously, and then I tease,
“
It’s your turn to show me yours, pretty boy.”

“It won’t be as titillating as when you did it. I hope I please you. I’ve um- I’ve never been with a guy before like this. It’s weird. I’m never shy. I never worried that I could
n’t
attract someone and now I am. I worry that you won’t
like what you see.” He squeezes me closer and I can feel him shake.
“It’s okay. You can take as long as you need. If you don’t want me to see, I don’t want to look. This has to be comfortable and we both have to want to do it. My whole li
fe has been about pressure. I’ll never pressure you,
”
I vow.

I hug his arms to me and feel content. Even if he doesn’t want me to see him, this is enough for me. It’s the most intimate I’ve ever been with someone.
Now
I know that there is a difference between intimacy and sex. All the sex I’ve had either felt horrible, clinical, or nice. Standing here with him feels like every nerve in my body is alive and firing lightning bolts.

“I want you to see. I just don’t have the ability to be seductive about it. I enjoyed the feeling of being with girls.
I’ve only had sex with two girls
and enjoyed my cock being sucked by countless others
. I
’d
held ou
t for a long time to be with one woman
in particular. She didn’t want to do it, but she took my
virginity. I love her and she’
s safe. She knows me in
side
and out
.
But
I’m very sexual and I needed an outlet. I chose Kristal because she knows me just about as well as anyone does. She’s the daughter of our housekeeper. She knew I was gay.
She’s a lot of fun and it feels damned good. I have no issue being with her, but it’s not the same. It’s not how it felt with my first and I don’t know if that’s how it should feel either.
That’s why I asked you in the park if you’d ever been with a girl and had it just about the two of you. I haven’t. I could look at them and get hard, but it was because I knew the pleasure I would get out of it. I just want to know if something is wrong with me. I’ve never felt whole.”
“I
’d
answered your question truthfully at the time. I
’d thought it’
d been about me and Bianca. It felt different last night with our hands on each other- better.
Just one of your fingertips feels better than her entire body against mine.
I know what you mean and I think a lot
of people look their whole lives
to find tha
t feeling of completeness. We’
ll just have to see. I honestly don’t know the answer for either of us.”

“Undress me. I would prefer your hands on me when you see me for the first time.” His voice sounds soft and pleading. The ache in it just about drops me to my knees.

I rotate in the cage of his arms. He loosens his hold on me so I can maneuver. He always dresses like a young man playing a businessman; only
the
thing is
,
he isn’t playing. I start on the top button of his dress shirt. I’ve never seen him in a tie. I smile at the thought of using it to pull him down to my mouth. He and I are such opposites. I dress emo when not playing Thompson.
“If you could dress any way you wanted
,
what would you wear?” I smile as I slowly unbutton his shirt. He said he couldn’t undress for me seductively, but I can undress him that way.

“Will it sound pitiful if I said I didn’t know? This is all I’ve ever known. When Dexter had us dress differently, Niel and I had no clue. We went with the absurd.”
“What do you know about yourself that isn’t a Whittenhower trait?” I peel the shirt off his shoulders a
nd resist stripping him fast like a kid on Christmas morning trying to get to the surprise under
neath
all the wrapping paper. He has a tight, white undershirt on and I want to drool.
“The only thing I can say is that I don’t like the life I live. I know I love tattooing- creating something that lasts an eternity.
I love art and I’ve drawn constantly since I could hold a pencil. I have books filled with illustrations. I know that my life is about to change. I ache to be the head of my family.
I know that I like you. I need to find myself and I know I never will if I stay on the path I’m on. I wasn’t lying when I said I want to be you when I grow up.
When I wish for something I get it. It never fails. I wished for you,
”
he breathes.

“Well,” I draw out as I pull his belt from his trousers. “We’ll just have to try everything until we find
your
something.
  We’ll find our paths eventually.
”