Page 22 of Piece Us Together
I can tell it’s a hard question. Maybe impossible, even. The way his face twists up like the question is cruel somehow tugs at my heart. I make myself stay quiet though. I make him decide.
“I want to hurt, sir,” he finally whispers, flinching at his own words.
Maison flinches at the exact same time.
Ah. I see.
“Maison, you can handle that?” I ask, even though his packets already said so. “Watching me hurt him?”
Maison clenches his hands but nods.
I make a mental note to keep an eye on him. That’s my job, after all. Whether he wants to admit to it or not, he’s under my care when we’re all together.
“Alright, then. How are you feeling? Are you ready?”
When they both just blink at me, seeming stunned that it’s already time to start, I gently prompt the chattier of the two. “Nolan?”
Nolan peers at me through his lashes. “Good. Um—nervous, but excited. I just—I don’t want to disappoint you, sir.”
“If you follow my instructions and let go for me, then disappointing me is impossible. I’m a very clear dom. I’ll never set you up for failure or play games. If you stray off-course unintentionally, I’ll always guide you back to where I want you. And I will always—always—” I emphasize, waiting until he lifts his chin a little more and looks me in the eyes before continuing, “—be proud of you for trying. That’s all I ask, is that you try. That you give me your best. You do that, and you can’t possibly let me down.”
Relief blooms on his face, his shoulders softening. “Okay, sir.”
“Good. Traffic light system still okay for you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me them.”
“Green is good and keep going. Yellow is that I’m nervous or need to talk about something and we need to pause or need to slow down. Red is everything stops.”
“Very good.” I tilt my head, openly taking him in. He’s so fucking beautiful. Maison is a lucky bastard. Hell,I’ma lucky bastard, regardless of the limitations placed on me. I let my appreciative gaze linger on him for just long enough to be uncomfortable. That’s what gets him squirming and blushing again. When he releases a breath, it’s shuddery.Perfect. “You have two rules tonight—you’ll continue to call me sir and you will not come until you’re given permission. Understood?”
He sways, almost like my words have knocked the wind out of him. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. The room is down the hall. It’s the only one with a door open. There’s an attached bathroom. You may use it if you need to. Then strip to your underwear and kneel on the cushion that’s placed at the foot of the bed. Use whatever position you like best, I’m not picky. I saw that you put eye contact limitations as a hard limit, so feel free to look at me as often as you’d like. We’ll be in shortly, but feel free to shout or to come back out for us if you need to safeword.”
He jumps—literally jumps—to his feet, visibly vibrating with excitement. “Yes, sir.”
His excitement wavers though when he steps past Maison. He pauses, his hands nervously twitching at his sides. He gives me a nervous glance like a kid about to sneak into the cookie jar before looking at his boyfriend. “You’re okay?”
Maison gives him an easy smile, but there’s something in his eyes that gives away just how uneasy he really feels. “Of course, baby. I’ll be in with him soon. Go on.”
“Okay.” He glances at me once more before giving Maison a quick kiss on the lips and running off.
He stops before he exits the room, his body tensing.
“Nolan?” Maison asks, half-standing from the couch like he’s about to run to him.
Nolan turns back to look at us, eyes wide, arms winding around his stomach. He gives Maison a look that can only be described as fucking anguished before dropping his eyes to the floor and mumbling, “There’ll be scars.”
What?
I glance at Maison, finding matching anguish on his face now. He deflates back against the couch and turns his gaze to me. It feels pointed. Almost like he’s passing the issue over to me.Well, fuck.
Okay, then.
“Scars?” I ask in what I hope is a light enough tone.