A year ago I released His Sire's New Pet, a BDSM threesome set in my Demons Age series. It was supposed to be a one shot but the muse wondered what happened the morning after. I seem to be saying that a lot... The story is currently with my editor, so this is a raw glimpse at what will be coming in February...
Tyler sighed when he tugged his boxers over his ass. The cotton felt like sandpaper against his stinging flesh. It was heavenly.
The lingering pain wasn’t exactly unexpected; he’d been spanked before, after all, and he’d had mornings such as this one, with beautiful memories sparking back to life with every twinge of pain. However, Jeremy, the only Dom Tyler had known until the previous night, had never pushed him as far as Alan had.
Tyler had come close to voicing his safeword—both from too much pain and too much pleasure. He was glad he hadn’t, and could only hope he would feel the effects of the night as long as possible.
“Why are you up so early, pet?”
The question, offered in a mildly chastising voice, startled Tyler. His mind had been drifting on images and sensations and he had not noticed Alan standing outside the guest bathroom until he spoke. Although he didn’t wear a stitch of clothing, Alan looked every bit as much in control as he had hours earlier.
“It’s not that early,” Tyler replied with a half smile, now picking up his pants from the floor and trying not to stare at Alan’s gorgeous body.
He wasn’t as muscled as some fighters in Tyler’s battalion who had a fondness for the gym, steroids or both, but a feeling of strength emanated from him, a confidence that spoke not only of physical endurance but also of mental peace. Those overly muscular fighters pumped up because they were afraid of losing their lives to demons; Alan didn’t need to say a word to express quite clearly that he wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone.
Tyler found that more attractive than anything, though it didn’t hurt that Alan had striking features, highlighted by a light stubble, a lean body that moved with that predatory grace all vampires seemed to possess, and piercing eyes that, at that moment, considered Tyler with an odd coolness.
Alan raised his closed fist and extended one finger. “You contradict me.” A second finger. “You fail to answer a direct question.” A third. “You prepare to leave without having asked and much less received permission to do so.”
Tyler’s smile faltered. Was Alan teasing him?
He knew the answer to that question at once. Granted, he hadn’t known Alan very long, but that stern tone of voice and expectant glint in his eyes were no games.
Dropping the pants to the floor, Tyler gave the only appropriate answer he could think of at that moment: he folded himself down to his knees, instinctively crossing his wrists behind him.
He faltered, wondering if he could speak or if he was only failing Alan a little more.
“Go ahead,” Alan said, finally lowering his hand. “You what?”
“I didn’t know I had to ask permission to leave.”
It wasn’t a valid excuse; Alan’s arching eyebrow said as much without him needing to say a word. Tyler continued hurriedly.
“I mean, before, when I played with Jeremy, he didn’t ask… I didn’t need…”
With every word that passed his lips, the feeling that Tyler was only making things worse for himself only grew heavier in the pit of his stomach. Falling silent, he lowered his gaze and stared at a chipped tile in front of Alan’s right foot.
“I thought I’d made it clear,” Alan said in a slow voice, “that I expect more from my pets than Jeremy does.”
As far as Tyler was concerned, that was a deep understatement. He’d never played a BDSM scene before meeting Jeremy, and he had been thrilled to finally find what he had craved all his life without quite knowing where to look for it. But last night, Alan had shown him an entirely different level of domination, both mentally and physically.
Tyler thought he’d still enjoy playing with Jeremy. He enjoyed simply being with him, and it didn’t matter what they did, they always had a good time together, whether they were sharing a beer and trading war stories in a pub or whether Tyler was on his knees in a dungeon-like backroom and waiting for Jeremy to decide how he wanted to play with him today.
The next time Tyler truly needed, though, the next time that old itch started, so deep under his skin he could do nothing to scratch it by himself, he’d want more. He’d want Alan’s hand, Alan’s touch. His rules, too, as harsh as they may be.
“Where were you going, running off without so much as a goodbye?”
Was the disappointment in Alan’s voice fading, or was it only wishful thinking on Tyler’s part?
“I have to report to my battalion, Sir.” Tyler wanted to look up and try to see on Alan’s face what he was thinking, but he had been taught otherwise and kept his eyes on the floor. “I didn’t check in last night. They must be wondering if I’m dead or what.”
Tyler suspected Elton, his head of battalion, would yell at him until he was blue in the face for not reporting on time, but that idea somehow didn’t bother him anywhere as much as the thought that he had disappointed Alan.
Alan stepped closer. His fingers combing through Tyler’s hair and tugging lightly were the signal Tyler had been waiting for. He raised his head, looking up, past Alan’s heavy, half-hard cock and to his face. His expression revealed nothing.
“Ask,” Alan said. “If you want to leave, all you need to do is ask for permission.”
Could it really be that easy? Somehow, Tyler was a little uncomfortable that Alan might let him go so quickly after chastising him.
“May I go back to my battalion, Sir?”
The previous night, Alan’s eyes had been gleaming with golden flames the entire time, and Tyler would have been hard pressed to say what color they were. Now, he could see they were hazel, with a circle of light brown around the pupil melding into green. They considered Tyler with a thoughtful but gentle look.
“You may,” he said. He paused then added on a matter of fact tone, “As soon as we’ve settled a few things, of course.”