Make Me Soar (15 page)

“Yes, Sir.” Just agreeing with Alan brought him calm, and he had to marvel at how quickly the Dom had got under his skin. The fluttering in Dorian’s belly and the shakiness of his breathing told him how much he was relying on this contract.

I want this to work. I really, really do
.

“You are not to masturbate.” Alan’s words broke through, but this was nothing new, so he nodded. “And you are not to come unless I give you permission. From now on, I will control your orgasms.”

Dorian swallowed. “Will I be allowed to come during a scene?”

Alan grinned. “Probably not.”

This was definitely new, and for the briefest moment, Dorian wondered what he was letting himself in for. Then he remembered.
Alan’s going to make me fly
. “Yes, Sir.”

Alan’s eyes gleamed with approval. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “How about we make dinner, and then we can write up the contract in the morning?”

“Do you want me to go home and collect my things?”

Alan shook his head. “That can wait until tomorrow. For now, I’d like you to have an early night. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to think about. If anything else comes to mind, we can discuss it in the morning.” He gave Dorian a meaningful stare. “And you will be in the guest room tonight. No distractions.”

Dorian knew that made sense, it would be easier to think straight without Alan there, but part of him was disappointed. The thought of spending the night in Alan’s bed, Alan’s arms, was a pleasant one. Then he told himself sternly that there were going to be many such nights.

He could take one last night alone.

A
LAN
SAT
up in bed, his laptop on his knees. The house was quiet and still. Dorian had gone to bed about an hour previously, and there was no sound coming from his room. Alan had intended doing some of his edits before sleeping, but the words danced in front of him on the screen. All he could think of was Dorian. All he could see in his head was Dorian: leaning against the seat cushions, the creamy color of his flesh against the dark green of his robe; his lips parted, eyes closed as Alan caressed, licked, and sucked his way up Dorian’s body; the noises that had issued forth from his mouth when Alan had finally kissed him.

Alan gave up any idea of working and gently closed the laptop, putting it aside. He lay down, the pillows thick and comfy beneath his head, and closed his eyes. In his mind he replayed the scene and the discussion that had followed it. That had been a first. In the past Alan had always been objective when it came to initial discussions, but never had he sat down to work out a contract when he was already sexually attracted to the submissive concerned. He knew Dorian had been something of an obsession for a while. He’d made the inquiries in July when a Dom had mentioned Dorian and piqued his interest. It hadn’t taken long for him to recall Thomas’s challenge, issued not long after he’d arrived at the club.

Dorian in his scene with Andrew had been a revelation. Alan could still picture the ropes around him, suspending him from the frame while Andrew played over his body with a violet wand. Something had brought the scene to an abrupt end, but not before Alan had witnessed Dorian’s lovely reactions. The lad’s skin had been flushed, his breathing rapid, and Alan had loved the low, erotic moans that had spilled from his lips. And in that moment he wished he’d been in Andrew’s place, only he wouldn’t have stopped the scene.

He would have been balls-deep in Dorian, pulling more of those beautiful sounds from that sensual mouth, watching him unravel as his orgasm had him in its grip.

Alan opened his eyes and smiled. From now on, Dorian’s orgasms would be under his control. Alan doubted anyone had undertaken orgasm training with the submissive, so the next few months were going to be interesting, to say the least. He’d let the lad have one really good climax before they began. Part of him yearned to see Dorian come for him. And then they’d begin in earnest.

This was going to be so good.

D
ORIAN
LAY
awake, listening to the minute sounds that filtered into his room: the odd car in the street outside, the far off hoot of an owl, which had given him a start, and the tick-tick-tick of the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet.

Not that the sounds kept him from sleeping—there was too much going on in his head for sleep. Dorian had spent the last week with Alan, and a few of those nights Alan had slept in Dorian’s bed. He’d grown accustomed to the Dom’s presence, the warm, secure feeling of having him close by. When Dorian had awoken in the middle of the night, damp with sweat and breathless from the nightmares, the sound of Alan’s breathing had been a comfort. Focusing on that had been infinitely more preferable than falling back into an unpleasant sleep, where faceless men waited to torment him once more.

After tonight, there’ll be no more sleeping alone
.

As before, the thought brought with it dual sensations, relief at having Alan near, and the pounding of his heart at the idea of that lean, hard body pressed up against him, those strong arms wrapped around him, the scent of Alan’s warm skin enveloping him.

It had been a long time since Dorian had been this turned on by a Dom. A lot of the Doms at Collars & Cuffs were very good-looking men, and Alan was no exception. Dorian couldn’t deny that, but he knew there was more to it than physical attraction. How else did he account for the hunger in him at the thought of Alan’s hands on his body? He was accustomed to being fucked at the end of a scene, to losing himself in the powerful thrusts and grunts of the Dom. But to feel this…
craving
to be touched, stroked, kissed—this was new.

Dorian closed his eyes and let the memory of their scene wash over him. He could feel Alan’s lips and tongue teasing his nipples, tracing invisible lines over his skin, almost as if he were drawing symbols on Dorian, powerful spells to bind them together, to create this
pull
within him. Dorian’s stomach tensed. His skin tingled.

What are you doing to me, Alan?

He stroked his hand over his abs, heading lower to where his cock awaited his attention, precome leaking already, aching to be tugged, pulled, and coerced into climax. But something stopped him. Alan’s words still rang in his head.
You are not allowed to come
.

And damn it, he couldn’t ignore the man.

A rush of fear swelled and surged through him.
Is he going to let me come? What will his punishments be if I come without permission?
Even more important, what would it feel like to have those hands, those lips on him while Alan was inside him? Dorian’s imagination went into overdrive, hole tightening in anticipation, providing him with a brief but sharp reminder that there was still healing to be done.

And if I’m in no state to be fucked, whose fault is that?

A sudden flush of anger rolled over him. What surprised Dorian was the focus of that rage. For the first time since he’d returned from Berlin, that fury was directed at himself, and he fought against the emotion. This was the fault of those bastards.
They’d
done this.
They’d
been the ones who’d blindfolded him, tied him down,
held
him down while they subjected his body to their own sadistic desires.

But still that tiny voice flickered in the deep recesses of his brain.

I let them, didn’t I?

It was a long time before Dorian fell asleep, body and mind exhausted.

D
ORIAN
GAZED
around his bedroom in consternation. He was supposed to be packing, but he had no idea how much to bring. Alan hadn’t mentioned if Dorian would be clothed while he was living in his home, and Dorian hadn’t thought to ask.

Although that was now starting to seem like a damn good idea.

Alan’s soft knock on his bedroom door brought Dorian back to his task.

“Do you need some help in there?”

Dorian glanced at his clock. It had been over fifteen minutes since he’d entered the room, and he didn’t have much to show for the time spent in there. His mind had been all over the place, drifting back to the morning’s discussion. The contract was written, a printed copy in Dorian’s room, and the mere thought of it sent shivers up and down his back.

I have a contract
. It had been a while.

He made a concerted effort to give the task his full attention. There would be plenty of time for thinking about contracts when he was at Alan’s place. “Sorry, I zoned out for a bit.”

The door opened, and Alan stood in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

Dorian sighed. “Not really. I can’t seem to get my mind into gear. I keep looking at my clothes and wondering how much I need to take.” He peered at Alan. “Will I be spending a lot of time indoors?”

Alan smiled. “We’ll go out for walks if the weather allows, so don’t forget to bring a warm coat or jacket. Pack as many clothes as you want and whatever toiletries you’ll need. There’s plenty of space in your room. Do you shave with a razor or a shaver?”

“Shaver.”

That smile faltered. “Shaving a sub with a straight razor is a favorite of mine. It’s a great way to build trust, especially when I’m scraping the blade over his throat.” His eyes met Dorian’s. “But I won’t be doing that with you, of course.” His smile was back, so gentle that it caused Dorian’s chest to constrict. “I haven’t forgotten what’s in our contract.”

Dorian’s stomach clenched at the image that appeared in his mind. He could almost feel the cool blade on his neck, his cheeks. A warm, tingling sensation pervaded his body. “Thank you.” The tension in his spine eased.

“And besides,” Alan continued, “it’ll give us a goal to work toward. I’d hope to be able to shave you before your collaring ceremony.” He speared Dorian with an acute glance.

Dorian was suddenly aware of the blood pounding in his ears as he fully digested the implication of Alan’s words.
Collaring ceremony?

Alan didn’t pull any punches.

He cleared his throat, and Alan grinned, as if aware of Dorian’s thought processes.

“What else will I need?”

Alan tilted his head to one side. “What do you usually wear to bed?”

“A pair of boxers.”

Alan grinned. “Not in my bed. You’ll sleep naked, like me. I would suggest some warmer clothing, however. You’ve already sampled the temperature in my house, and we
are
in winter right now.” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Not that you’ll be cold in bed. I guarantee that.”

Dorian caught his breath, and Alan chuckled.

“I’m always warm. It’ll be like sleeping with a permanent electric blanket.”

“I see.” The prospect of curling up around a toasty Alan was a pleasant one. He racked his brains for what else he might possibly need. The problem was there were too many variables. He had no idea how he’d be spending his evenings, for one thing. Would he need books?

Alan brought his internal meanderings to a halt. “Let’s stick to clothes and toiletries for now. If you find you need anything else, we can always come back here. It’s not as if you live a long way away, is it?”

Dorian wondered why he wasn’t thinking practically. Then he gave an inner snort. Alan messed with his mind, pure and simple. It was like the man fucked with his wiring.

“How about you put all the clothes you’ll be bringing on the bed, and I’ll help you pack them into a couple of suitcases?”

He smiled at the suggestion. “Yeah, thanks.” Dorian began pulling open drawers and removing neat piles of clothing, placing them on the bed. Alan tugged the two large cases into the middle of the floor and opened them up. Dorian peered into the deep drawer next to his bed and became still. Within it lay his lube and several toys, including a thick dildo and a vibrator in a soft pink silicone. He stretched out his hand and then stopped, indecision filling him.

Alan’s breath was warm against his ear.

“Leave the toys.”

The firm, low voice sent a shiver down Dorian’s spine.

He jumped. “God, I didn’t hear you.” Alan could be bloody quiet when he wanted to be.

“I have plenty of toys, believe me.” A wry chuckle tickled his neck. “Back to packing, eh?”

Dorian nodded and proceeded to spend the next ten minutes making sure he had as many items of clothing as possible. When the cases were full to bursting, Alan lugged them out of the bedroom and stood them next to the front door, the muscles in his arms bulging with the effort. Dorian watched him, a ripple of quiet pleasure running through him at the sight. Alan was a fine looking man with muscles in all the right places.

And then Alan turned his head and caught him looking. He smirked.

“What are you staring at?”

Dorian froze, but the expression on Alan’s face was an invitation he couldn’t resist. “Your arse.” In that instant, Dorian almost felt like his old self again.

Alan’s eyebrows lifted, and he chuckled. “Someone’s feeling better—and very bold, I might add.”