Page 38 of Just Business
Good. “Do you want more beyond this night?”
A long pause. “If you’re willing.”
Oh, Justin. “We wouldn’t be lying here otherwise. Isceneat parties, that’s it. I don’t do this.” He gestured at them and the couch. “Not at parties. And not very often at all.” Never, actually.
The sound that came from Justin was a squeak.
Here was the part where he needed to tell the truth. “I’m not an easy Dom. I’m exacting and demanding and I will punish you—not for failure when you put in the honest effort, but if you don’t work for it.”
Justingiggled. “So basically, the same as at work, but with a crop in your hand?”
“Yes.” He paused. “And that’s eight, Mr. White.”
His breath caught. “I’m not going to be able to sit on Monday, am I?”
“Oh, you’ll sit. You’re just not going to like it.” Eli fingered Justin’s collar. “And you’ll get no sympathy from Sam whatsoever.”
“Fuck.”
Soon. “Tell me about this.” He tugged at Justin’s collar.
“It’s—I bought it. For when I’m not with anyone.”
“Good.” He hadn’t realized how much that had been bothering him until Justin answered. That possessiveness should have frightened Eli. It didn’t.
Nor did it seem to bother Justin. “You’re going to replace it.”
“How very astute.” As soon as Justin set foot in Eli’s home, that hunk of leather would come off. “Leave it for now. It’ll make a fine handle when you’re naked.”
Justin sucked in a breath. “You’re going to keep me on edge all night, aren’t you?”
Oh, yes. Until Justin was pleading for release. Screaming for permission. “You’re the one who claimed that you always come right on time.”
“I amnevergoing to live that down.”
“No. Certainly not when I get to say when the right time is.” Eli touched the top button of Justin’s shirt and worked it free before sliding down to the next and unbuttoning that, too. “It’s fun to use your own words against you.”
He moaned. “Sadist.”
Eli explored the warm flesh of the well-honed chest beneath the silk of Justin’s shirt, plucking at Justin’s dusting of golden-brown hair. “You say that as if it’s abadthing.”
Justin’s breath hitched.
Eli circled a nipple before pinching it gently. “Safeword?”
“Saturn.” Justin squirmed. “And that wasn’t me saying it.”
“I should hope not.” Eli pressed harder and twisted.
Justin about levitated off the couch. “Fuck!” But he didn’t thrash, didn’t try to escape. After the initial shock, he fell back and quivered, eyes closed, face a mask of pain and pleasure—but mostly pleasure.
Good. Eli increased the pressure until Justin was writhing on top of him. Wasn’t that the best thing he’d felt in years? Justin bucking against Eli’s body, hands locked on Eli’s arms, nails biting into flesh even through the dress shirt. Justin.His. Finally.
White-hot need drove straight up to Eli’s head and down into his balls. With his free hand, Eli caught Justin’s head and took his mouth, breathing in the whimpers and moans like smoke—more intoxicating than any drug. If Justin kept moving like that, Eli would be just as on edge and out of control.
Part of Eli wanted that—to become as lost as Justin. Not here, though. Not with so many eyes and ears present—so he relented, releasing the nipple, but not Justin’s mouth. Justin quieted and stilled.
Oh, Eli. You are so lost.
