Page 7 of Destined By Dragonblood
I crowded his personal space, loving how my body responded. I felt alive for the first time in years, completely enthralled and focused on my purpose. Horny as fuck and ready to give this man whatever he requested.
“You listed two limits,” I stated, needing them repeated out loud considering the undeniable attraction between us.
“Skin contact and penetration, Sir.” He echoed what he’d written on his forms, much to my disappointment. “I have an aversion to the first when it comes to humans, which makes the second an impossibility.”
“Humans,” I repeated, perplexed, but not inflecting my voice with a question for clarity. “Have you ever been fucked, Dolyn?” I found myself asking, my shaft bucking at the thought of sinking my length between his ass cheeks, past his tight ring, and into the silken heat of his core.
“Yes, Sir.”
A low hum rose past my lips as I pressed in even closer, mere inches separating us. My heartbeat throbbed in harmony with my groin, much as it did when I pushed Ashley’s limits. “Did you like having a hard cock thrust deep into your guts?” I murmured, hands fisting to keep myself from caressing over his stiff length.
He swallowed audibly, a slight tremor rippling over him as his hands clenched briefly before releasing. “Yes,” he whispered, once more forgetting to address me properly.
I eased back slightly since biting his lower lip in punishment was off-limits, and I needed some space to breathe, as did he.
If Dolyn had enjoyed having his ass owned, why did he use the word “aversion”? Past trauma, I supposed, same as Ashley, but suspicion had me believing Dolyn’s issue stemmed from more. Did he crave the pain as some form of penance? The hard length straining toward his belly button and the droplet of pre-cum oozing down his shaft suggested he was here for more than a punishment.
Like me, he ached for relief.
I had no right to question why he’d come to my club. Opposite in their desires to submit, Dolyn and Ashley were two peas in a pod with their distaste for physical contact, and while both of them intrigued the hell out of me, only one stood ready to be taken care of tonight.
Dolyn deserved my full focus, and I would gift it to him.
I straightened my spine in readiness to give this man exactly what he needed from me—a cold-hearted beating that would ease his conscience and maybe empty his firmed ball sac if he could come untouched.
The conflict over his written answers and tells, however, required a verbal response to a question he hadn’t provided on his forms.
“What is your safeword?”
Dolyn returned his gaze to me, and I swore fire flashed in his eyes and blinked out. “I don’t need one, Sir.”
“The fuck you don’t,” I whispered, leaning closer. “What you crave, the lust for agony I feel radiating off your skin like electricity, will be a pleasure to inflict on your gorgeous body, but I promise I wield more than you could ever handle, boy.”
He snorted, the scent of burning cedar flooding my nose.
My cock pulsed inside my leathers, releasing an unnatural and unusual flood of pre-cum. Goddamn, this man worked me up inside like no one had before.
“I can’t be broken,” he claimed, his chin lifting, exposing even more of his neck.
I withheld my own snort at his gesture of submission and hissed as another burst of pre-cum slid down my thigh. “I use the stoplight system for checking in, but red won’t cut it tonight. I won’t give you what you need without a safeword, Dolyn.” It pained me—literally—to state the truth, but I was a respected Dom and I would have an answer, or he could walk out the door unfulfilled.
The muscle in Dolyn’s strong jawline ticked again. “My safeword is beta, Sir.”
Interesting choice. Fitting, as the puzzle pieces of him moved around in my mind.
My instincts demanded I order him to his knees. My fingertips tingled to grasp hold of his hair and shove his face into my groin and command him to use his tongue to clean up the mess he’d caused inside my leathers. But, without the right to touch him, I had to ignore the hungry inferno he kindled inside me.
“You requested a caning.” I double-checked, my focus back on the task at hand.
“Yes, Sir.”
“And do you have a preferred position?”
“Over a bench, wrists and ankles shackled.” He didn’t hesitate to speak.
A shot of adrenaline rushed through me at the exact position I’d always craved to see Ashley displayed in.
I strode toward the bench where she had yet to kneel for me, the fantasy of her pale, off-limits skin intensifying the ache in my groin. I’d never lost myself in a scene and orgasmed unintentionally, but if anyone could take me to that point, it would be her.
