Room at the Edge (32 page)

“We’ve got all night and all day tomorrow,” Liam told him, his fingers cruelly tight around Jay’s wrists, bruising him, marking him. God, he loved the small, purple ovals pressed into his skin by Liam’s fingers, hated covering them with the wide leather bracelets he wore to work. Liam sucked at Jay’s neck, pulling the skin tight and hot, lapping at it until it was wet with saliva.

He drew back to stare into Jay’s eyes from a distance of an inch or two, his face filling Jay’s vision, his breath hot against Jay’s face. “You’re mine. I’m going to play with you until I break you. Until you trust me. Until I’ve taken every tear, every whimper, every drop of sweat and cum. Mine. Say it. Make me believe you.”

Jay inhaled sharply, the wall hard against his back and Liam impossibly unbending in front of him. Liam could do, would do anything, and Jay would let him. Liam could whip him bloody, fuck him raw, and somehow Jay wouldn’t protest or complain. He’d love it. He’d love Liam for being the man who could do it to him.

“I’m yours,” Jay whispered, unable to look away from Liam’s eyes. “Yours, Sir.”

Liam leaned in another inch and bit Jay’s lower lip until he squirmed with the sharp, exquisite pain of it. “Convincing.” Liam’s voice was almost a growl. “Now see if you can be as convincing with your actions as you are with your words.” His hand ran down Jay’s side and slid between them; he squeezed Jay’s cock hard enough to make him gasp. “Go shower. Don’t touch yourself while you do. I’ll be waiting for you, so don’t dawdle.”

Jay was so aroused it was difficult to force his body to obey him, but somehow when Liam released him, he managed to stumble upstairs to the shower. He wanted to let his clothes lie where they fell as he removed them but made himself fold them and set them neatly on the counter. His hands shook as he reached for the soap.

Liam hadn’t told him what he had planned. Not knowing what to expect made Jay even more turned on than he already was. Was Liam going to take advantage of Austin being gone to make this really intense? A shudder ran through Jay, and he had to clench his fists to resist the urge to touch his cock.

When he came out of the shower, he wasn’t fully hard, but he knew that one look, one word from Liam would change that. He dried off, carefully avoiding his groin so that when he walked into the bedroom, the towel in his hand, drops of water clung to his cock and the dark hair around it.

Liam was standing by the bed, giving one of Jay’s shirts a critical appraisal. On the bed he’d put out fresh pants, socks, and shorts for Jay, for some reason. “This needs ironing.”

“You want me to get dressed?” Jay blurted out. “Why?”

Liam beckoned him over without answering, giving him the same frowning attention that the shirt had received. Jay held still under that gaze, wondering why it was so hot to be examined like this, to be on display, be judged. He stood straight and kept his eyes lowered, watching his cock perk up again.

After drawing his finger along Jay’s jaw, Liam clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You need to shave. Do that; then iron this shirt. I don’t want to see a single crease.” He moved his hand down to Jay’s erection, brushing the damp hair around it. “You’re wet, I see. Good boy. We can’t have you walking around like that, though.” He took the towel from Jay and tossed the shirt on the bed. “Don’t move. Don’t speak.”

Jay bit his lip as Liam dried him off with the towel. It should have taken a few seconds, no more, but Liam turned it into a form of torture, using the edge of the towel to saw across the exposed glans, chafing it until it burned red, cupping and squeezing Jay’s balls painfully tight. Liam smiled as Jay’s teeth dug deeper into his lip, and slid the towel between Jay’s thighs in an intimate, invasive caress. Jay wanted to spread his legs wider, weak with lust, but as he did, Liam withdrew his hand. “That’s better. Off you go.”

Jay picked up his shirt, a heavy cotton in the dark green Austin loved on him. “Sir, are we going out or something?”

“When you ask questions, it’s a sign that you don’t trust me,” Liam told him. “That you’re not submitting to me the way I want you to. That’s not acceptable. I will punish you for hesitating to obey me and for asking trivial questions. Tonight you do as you’re told, no more, no less. You ask permission for any action you take. Don’t assume you can decide anything for yourself. Not tonight. Tonight you’re mine, remember?”

“Yes,” Jay said, feeling his cheeks flush with shame. “Yes, Sir. I’ll do whatever you say.”

He went to shave, breathing slowly and carefully so he wouldn’t nick himself. Any blood drawn tonight should be at Liam’s hand, not his. He didn’t own himself. He belonged to Liam. The look in his eyes when he gazed at his reflection was uncertain, glassy, like he was coming down with something, but Jay knew better.

It took longer to iron his shirt than it should have. He didn’t iron often—most of his shirts were the kind that were supposed to be wrinkle-free, which was a lie but good enough for his job, where the dress code required he wear a shirt with a collar but no tie or jacket. He was supposed to be professional but approachable so that library patrons would be comfortable asking him questions.

Questions. Which he wasn’t asking any more of tonight, even if it meant he had to double-check every sentence that left his lips.

He stood there passing the iron over the dark green fabric again and again while Liam watched. He figured Liam would tell him when he’d done a respectable job, and the third time Jay lifted the shirt from the ironing board to look at it, Liam nodded. “Good. Come here.”

Jay went to the bed, where Liam had been sitting and watching him. Liam took the shirt, stood, and slipped it onto him, Jay moving his arms to help, in a daze of confusion and aching with arousal to the point where his cock, wet tipped, left a darker spot on the front of his shirt when Liam had finished buttoning it.

Liam glanced down at it, smiled faintly, and reached under the shirt to fondle Jay’s balls, handling them as casually as he would his own. Jay clenched his hands, channeling his desire into making them form tight fists, his breath catching in a dry throat.

With a final tweak to a cuff, Liam stepped back. “Finish dressing. I’m getting hungry.”

Not asking where they were going took an effort, but when they pulled up at the Thai restaurant fifteen minutes later, after a largely silent drive, it didn’t surprise Jay. Where else would Liam take him?

He began to get out of the car once Liam had turned off the engine, but was halted with a word. “Did I give you permission to leave the car?”

“No, Sir.” This was harder to take than a whipping. He felt tied down by invisible threads, a puppet controlled by a man he’d angered and disappointed too often over the last month or so. A man he loved, ached for, adored.

“Before I do, I just want to make sure you don’t forget who you are when we’re in there.”

Jay stared down at Liam’s cupped hand, extended toward him. It was dark outside, but the glow of a security light illuminated the interior of the car sufficiently for him to see what Liam held in the curve of his palm: a pair of nipple clamps, small weights attached. They’d hurt after a minute, be close to unbearable after five, have him squirming, begging for them to come off after fifteen.

He took them from Liam and held them, his gut cramping with a fierce, sweet heat. He loved and feared these clamps in equal measure. He closed his hand around them, the metal cold against his skin. Was he hiding them or keeping them safe? He didn’t know anymore.

“You’ll behave in there,” Liam said, pushing Jay’s jacket back so that he could get to the shirt buttons he’d fastened such a short time before. “Speak when spoken to by me, but don’t even think about talking to anyone else. I own your words.” He thumbed Jay’s nipple, flicking it until it was hard enough to take the clamp, which, in the chilly night air, wasn’t really necessary. “Don’t think I’ll permit wriggling or fidgeting, no matter how much these hurt. And no slouching.” Liam snapped his fingers. “Give me the first clamp, please.”

It was unfair of Liam to treat him like this, but Jay accepted that Liam had a point to make and had chosen this method of making it. On an impulse he couldn’t explain, he took one clamp and raised it to his lips, kissing it respectfully, before passing it to Liam.

Liam didn’t comment, but a flicker of approval crossed his face before he bent to his task. He fixed the clamps to Jay’s nipples without lingering, as if he didn’t want to draw it out for whatever reasons. Which, considering they were in a public parking lot, were probably numerous. Thinking about that was a solid distraction from the burn of Jay’s sensitive flesh caught in the unyielding pinch of metal that rapidly warmed to match the temperature of his body as he got out of the car when told and followed Liam toward the building.

The wave of heat that smacked him in the face as they stepped into the restaurant was a shock after the chill of winter air; he found himself reaching for Liam’s hand, and Liam let him and squeezed his briefly before letting go. Jay concentrated on the feel of the clamps under his shirt, glancing down at himself to see if they were visible to anyone looking. No, he decided, probably not. Not like anyone would be looking at him that closely anyway; people who wanted to look at a guy would be drawn to Liam.

They were shown to their table. Jay kept reminding himself not to talk to anyone but Liam—otherwise he would have thanked the waiter. God, he was hard. He forced himself to sit still, no fidgeting, as he stared blindly at the menu he was holding. Liam would have to order for him if he couldn’t speak, right? Would Liam ask what he wanted to eat or just decide for him? Not knowing what would happen next was as disconcerting as the constant throb of his nipples.

“I’ll have a glass of the sauvignon blanc,” Liam said when the waiter came back to ask what they’d like to drink. “Jay? Would you like a Coke?”

Jay lifted his eyes for the first time in minutes and nodded silently. He was supposed to call Liam Sir, but it seemed like that would be weird in public, and Liam hadn’t told him what to do. As soon as the waiter, who didn’t seem to have noticed anything odd, left, Jay opened his mouth to whisper an explanation, then abruptly pressed his lips together and instead said nothing.

“It’s difficult, isn’t it?” Liam asked. “That’s why I’m doing it. Left to yourself, your mind wanders, even during a session. You forget you’re supposed to be in the moment; you drift away from me. I really don’t like that.”

It was too true for Jay to argue with. He knew it was a habit of his, but he’d gotten better at training his thoughts to remain focused under Liam’s guidance. He wanted to tell Liam that, reassure him, guessing Liam would see Jay’s distraction as a reflection on how effective he was as a Dom, but he didn’t think it would be well received.

“I do want to enjoy some civilized conversation over dinner, though. Just be mindful of the restrictions you’re under. Now, let’s look at the menu.”

The clamps were hurting him. He read the menu without taking it in, words dancing, disconnected to each other, sense-free. The pain radiating from his chest wiped his mind clean of a dozen small worries, even eroding his need for Austin to be there.

The waiter returned with their drinks, and Liam ordered for both of them without even a glance at Jay, who handed the menu back with his gaze fixed on Liam. If the waiter was surprised, he didn’t show it in his voice as he thanked them before walking away.

“If the clamps become too painful to bear—and I trust you to know when they’ve reached that point—tell me.”

There was no one in earshot. Their table was set against a wall, the closest occupied table fifteen feet away, muted background music providing some privacy. Jay murmured, “Yes, Sir,” and found that saying it helped ground him. He was Liam’s sub. Liam wouldn’t let him do anything that would make people stare at them, and all Jay had to do was what he was told as well as he could.

He straightened and felt the weights on the clamps shift, tugging at the captured flesh. Liam was watching him, and unseen by anyone as he was, Jay let his pain show on his face, gave it to Liam as a gift, seeing the heat flare in the blue eyes.

Liam was amazing to look at under any circumstances—Jay sometimes caught complete strangers admiring him—but he was especially hot when he was in control, when he was absorbing the power he held over Jay and Austin. In that moment Jay almost wished he was naked so that he could feel Liam’s eyes on him, so Liam could see how turned on he was and how thoroughly he was owned.

“The temperature’s supposed to drop tonight,” Liam said. “They said we might even get a dusting of snow, though it’s meant to be gone by tomorrow.”

Jay nodded. “If it’s going to be cold, I could make waffles for breakfast.” He studied Liam’s face as he spoke, trying to gauge his thoughts, but Liam had told him he wanted conversation over dinner. This was conversation. Casual, but conversation.

“Only if it’s cold?” Liam sounded amused.

“They seem like a cold-weather thing to me. Fall, winter…I don’t know. I tried to make pumpkin pancakes one time, but they wouldn’t cook right. They were too heavy. The middles just stayed raw.”

“I think I’ll pass on the pumpkin in that case.” Liam sipped his wine. “Someone at the office was talking about making pumpkin dinner rolls to have on Christmas day.”

Jay made a face. “If they came out like the pancakes, they’d be awful.”

His nervousness was fading. This was just talking, and Liam wasn’t a stranger. Had he ever been? Even in those early days, the three of them had clicked somehow. Liam had been distant, reserved, but he was like them, and that had been what mattered. They spoke the same language.

The waiter brought over their food, and without thinking, Jay smiled up at him. “Thanks. It looks—” He caught himself, breaking off midsentence, feeling a sickening lurch, as if he’d misjudged his step and was falling forward with the sidewalk waiting.

The man gave him a puzzled smile, clearly confused but not interested enough to comment. “Let me know if there’s anything I can get you,” he said and moved away when Liam shook his head.