Page 13 of His Plaything

“Such a good boy,” Clark said, the praise making Seth dizzy. He took Seth’s mouth then, hot and hard and everything, before pulling away just enough to breathe against Seth’s lips. “Come for me then.”

It was easy to obey, with Seth so close and surrounded by Clark’s touch and heat and scent. He shuddered through it, legs nearly giving out. His whole boy throbbed with the pleasure of it as he spilled into Clark’s hand. Once it was over, he slumped back against the wall, a trembling mess.

He was given a moment to gulp air, and then, “Open up, sweetheart.”

Seth obeyed without thought, too fuzzy to even wonder what was happening. Clark slipped a wet finger into his mouth. It tasted bitter, salty–

Seth’s eyes flew open in realization, meeting Clark’s own dark smolder.

“You made a mess. So I think you should clean it up.”

It was like a knife to the belly. Seth had just come, but a zing of something pleasure-adjacent still licked through him. The finger in his mouth moved, painting his own spend across his tongue.

His face was burning. Tentatively he sucked at the finger, watching Clark watch him. His gaze was predatory.

When Seth had finished cleaning the one, Clark held the rest of his hand up, and allowed Seth to lap the milky spill off his palm. The man watched him the whole time with a hunger that was both frightening and exciting. The moment stretched thin, and Seth felt as pinned as a butterfly on a board.

“Now,” Clark said, bending down and coming back with something soft and damp. He began wiping Seth clean. It was too much too soon, and Seth whimpered and tried to twist away from the sensitivity.

There was a soft chuckle. Clark had backed up a little from his space, and now Seth could see Clark wholly unruffled but for the wrinkles in his sweater, and holding Seth’s forgotten towel. “Be good and let me clean you up,” he said, smile playing around his mouth.

“Yessir,” Seth managed shakily. He felt weak all over, chest puffy and sore, the muscles in his leg stiff from tensing.

“Good boy,” Clark said warmly, and proceeded to finish wiping him down, movements gentle and sure.

Once done with the towel, Clark dropped it back to the floor. Seth had a brief moment to wonder what would happen to it, who would pick it up to clean it, and promptly tried to stop wondering. It was easier to do once Clark stepped in for another kiss. Seth sighed into it, relaxing against him.

When Clark pulled away this time, he didn’t go far, cupping Seth’s cheek in one large hand. “That was perfect, sweetheart.” he said again, softly, just for Seth.

Seth swallowed, the intensity making his stomach flip-flop. “Thank you, sir.”

Clark looked at him in what almost could have been surprise, before he pressed one last kiss to Seth’s mouth, and then moved away completely, back toward the bed.

“It so happens that my personal assistant was picking up some dress shirts for me the other day.” Clark picked up the little pile of clothing he’d dropped on the bed. “As she was already out, I asked her to choose some items that might suit you. I guessed a little on the sizing, so they might be a little big, but–” a smirk. “Better too big than too small, hm?”

Seth blinked at him, not quite comprehending as Clark pushed the little bundle into Seth’s arms. Clark had gotten him clothes? His assistant had been shopping theother day?

But that meant…

“Now, I believe I promised you breakfast,” Clark said with a smile, as though he wasn’t turning Seth’s entire world upside-down. “So why don’t you get dressed for me?”

“Yessir,” Seth said faintly.

The smile sharpened. “Good boy.”

Chapter Five

Seth didn’t know how he’d gotten here. He was dressed in a cashmere sweater and a handsome pair of trousers that were sleek but somehow warmer than most of the pants he owned. He was seated in the passenger's seat of a black Porsche as Clark walked around to open the car door for him.

A hand curled around Seth’s waist as he stood, Clark keeping him close. It was a possessive and obvious touch, done where anyone could see. Clark guided them toward the valet that was standing just outside the doors.

Clark handed the man the keys. “Reservation for Miller.”

The valet nodded and gestured to the door, “Kim is just inside Sir, and she’ll seat you.”

Seth saw the valet glance him over, and he tried to fight down his blush. There was no way the man wasn’t making the obvious deduction.

With that hand on his lower back, Clark ushered him in the doors.

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