And we’d suffered the consequences long enough.
“Sir,” he whispered.
“Enough,” I whispered back. I kissed him and slid a hand to the back of his head, and all the feelings from five years ago surged forward with a vengeance, a little fractured, a little altered, a little matured.
He let out a needy sound and tried to cling to me, and that was all I wanted right now. To let his wants get rid of my doubts. To let his need for me give me faith that this was real.
I pressed my lips to his over and over, reveling in the softness. I kissed him slowly and hungrily, I tasted him for the first time in years, I controlled his every movement, and I no longer had to worry about pushing the envelope where kink was concerned.
His urgency bled through in everything he did, in the way he slipped his hands up my chest, how he tried to deepen the kiss, and those fucking sounds… Breathless, barely audible little whimpers.
When I swept my tongue around his, into his mouth, and went all in, he moaned and fisted my T-shirt. He tried to move closer even though we didn’t have an inch of space between us. That was how he killed the last tension in me.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he said, out of breath.
I flicked the tip of my tongue against the edge of his teeth. “I can barely believe you’re here.”
He grinned and cupped my face. “Maybe you should pinch me.”
No problem. I dropped my hands to his legs and upper thighs and pinched the soft spot over his hip. Hard.
“Ow!” He laughed and winced and leaned back. “I’m not a masochist, Sir.”
“Then don’t tell a Sadist to pinch you.” I smirked slightly. “Come back here.”
He leaned forward again and rubbed his nose to mine. He was fucking adorable.
“I know you’re a Sadist.” He played with the neckline of my tee. “You have a page on your community website where three questions are asked of every founding member. Core fetishes, favorite toys, and best way to collect brownie points.”
Archie really was a little stalker.
“I see you didn’t bring me a strawberry milkshake.” I nipped at his chin. “No brownie points for you.”
Although, he had hugged me. Those were what I’d half-jokingly listed as the best ways to collect brownie points with me. Hugs and strawberry milkshakes. Hugs from a brat put a grin on my face. Hugs from Archie and Sloan were evidently different.
“Do I want brownie points from a man who listed a sub’s brain as his favorite toy?” he countered teasingly. “Let the record reflect that literally all of you listed that one.”
Not Macklin, but yeah, the rest of us.
“The answer is yes.” I combed my fingers through his hair and tugged a little. “This is where you want my fingers. If that’s your kink, that is. So far, I can only guess you’re into domestic servitude and TPE.”
Two of my three core fetishes. Since he’d read that page, he already knew.
“Yes, I am. And so are you.” He smiled widely and let out a burst of excitement in a hard kiss. “I’ve explored a bit. I don’t like physical pain, but mental sadism intrigues me.”
Sexy. “Then you definitely want my fingers in your brain.”
He smirked and peered down between us, and then a pinch of uncertainty took over. “Is it okay that I only see pain as a method of punishment?”
“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” I lifted his chin, wanting eye contact. “In your word vomit earlier, you manage to hint about not only swinging and polyamory but your belief that two people can’t be everything to each other. I happen to agree to an extent.”
“You do?” It was precious how his eyes brimmed with so much hope. “The thing is—I…” Then he deflated with an exhale and chuckled. “I’m not going to have any voice left tomorrow for all the talking I’ve done tonight.”
I smiled. He was probably right.
“But I want to say one more thing,” he said. “It’s my biggest dream to serve you, to see if we can build something together. And I understand that might require a lot of hashing out, but in the meantime, I’m not making any demands. I may have learned a lot about you through your family on social media—”
“When you stalked me.”
“When I researched!” he corrected with a grin. “Nevertheless, I don’t know where you are in life, what your protocol is for BDSM and partners… All I’m asking for is a chance to see where this could go.”
That was fair—and summed up what I was willing to give in return. I’d been lonely for far too many years, and it wouldn’t do me any good to get my hopes up. Fairy tales didn’t exist, and I didn’t mean that in a bad way. But Archie and I weren’t going to ride off into the sunset, just the two of us. Kink, for me, was this big old house with so many doors to open every now and then, whether I helped Corey find his way or I demonstrated a toy on someone. Not everyone accepted those things.