Submissive Angel: A BDSM Romance Novella Page 20

  By the time the mother moved on, sending Ange a thankful look and warm smile, Robert had been struck by an idea. He decided to toss it out there, see how his sub might react.

  “You know that Fifth Ward community center? My mom took a one-day pottery class there, when she was still doing pretty good. She knew a glazing technique the instructor didn’t, and he talked her into a short demo. The center’s director encourages volunteers with skills that can expand their programs.”

  Ange sent him a curious look. “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah. I’m betting they’d do backflips if a classically trained danseur good with kids wanted to offer some instruction.”

  A mix of reactions went through Ange’s face, hard to decipher. “It would take me away from helping at the store.”

  “If you decide it’s something you’d like to do, I could work around it.” Robert shrugged. “Last year they did a recital, plus some community performances. For children’s charities and to benefit the center, things like that.”

  “Hunh.” Ange bent over the box of priced German ornaments, lifted out several to replenish the Christmas tree. He’d left the carousel on, the tinny music playing its dreamy tune as the horses revolved. When he shifted to the other side of the tree, which had him half-facing Robert, the multi-colored lights reflected in his thoughtful eyes. He had an interesting set to his mouth, not necessarily pleased or displeased. Just…hard to read.

  Robert left it alone. He’d let it roll around Ange’s mind and see what he did with it.

  After they finished up, they headed for the house. Since Robert had some calls and paperwork to handle, he encouraged Ange to do whatever he’d like while he went into his home office.

  As he worked over the next hour or so, he heard noises above and below that suggested Ange was doing some more interior décor adjustment. Then it got quiet. So when Robert was done, he went looking for him. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find him napping on the couch in front of the TV or even more pleasingly, curled up in Robert’s bed, but he found him out on the rooftop deck.

  Ange was sitting on one of the cushioned outdoor benches, positioned for optimal gazing at the neighborhood tree canopy. He was slouched down in a relaxed pose, upper body sunk deep into one of Robert’s heavier coats. His long legs were stretched out, athletic shoes braced on the fire pit.

  Robert took a seat next to him, thigh brushing Ange’s leg. When Ange gave him a serious look, Robert draped an arm behind him. “All right?”

  “Yeah. I think so. Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Do you want me to keep working with you at the store?”

  “Absolutely.” Robert squeezed his neck. “I love having you there.”

  When Ange’s shoulders relaxed at the immediate, emphatic answer, Robert reinforced it with the simple truth. “Before you, I didn’t think there was a single person I could be around almost 24/7 and not get tired of it.”

  “I feel that way, too.” Ange lifted a shoulder, looked away. “I want to be there for you, whenever you need me. You’re my Master. And more than that.”

  “You’re my submissive, Ange. And more than that, too.” Robert touched his jaw. “Which means your happiness, your contentment, seeing you become all you want to be? That’s you serving me, too. I want you to know you have choices. Whether it’s teaching at the community center, or pursuing your dancing or any other dreams you have, in whatever way you want, I want you to know that’s not going to impact how I feel about you. You have my complete support.”

  “Okay.” Ange’s jaw flexed beneath Robert’s fingers. Then he straightened and brought his feet down to the ground, turning his body to look at Robert. “But promise me you aren’t doing your ‘old guy’ thing.”

  “What?” Robert’s brows shot up. Ange flushed.

  “That thing you do, like when you were setting me up on dates. As if you’re this doddering old relic that expects I’m only in your life because of my problems. A bird whose wing you’ll fix and then I’ll fly away.”

  Ange surged up from the bench and paced away, leaving Robert frowning after him. But Ange wasn’t done. “I can see it in my head. You smiling that stiff smile you do, trying to hide your heart breaking because you don’t want to let me go, but you think that’s what’s best for me.”

  Robert’s second attempt to respond was thwarted once more as Ange pivoted and faced him. The unbanked heat in Ange’s flashing eyes startled him.

  “When you look at me, my knees get weak. When your hand closes around the back of my neck, I want to fall on my knees, be anything you need me to be. I feel your strength and power, and it surrounds me, keeps me safe, even as I want to show you just how high and strong I can leap and dance. For you. Because of you. That’s how you make me feel, because I know you’re there, watching. I’m not just saying it as a spontaneous thing, driven by my cock or because of how you’ve helped me. You are my Master. My life isn’t over, the journey isn’t over, because I chose you. It’s just beginning, with you.

  Ange’s passion was a sword wielded by an unfaltering, powerful will. And the words kept coming. “You’re thirty-seven years old, Master. Maybe those couple years you took care of your parents, you got pulled into that feeling of sickness and death and being old, so that somewhere along the way you started feeling old, too. But every time you embrace your Master side, all that falls away and you’re every bit of what you really are. A Master, a man in his prime, able to kick ass and take command of me and your life, and take care of others. Everyone knows that about you. Charlie, Sully, our customers, all the people you help. Including and especially me.”

  Robert had been thinking so much about Ange these past couple days. How to do things for his sub, help him, actualize him. His submissive had been doing the same thing, only his focus had been Robert. And it was clear a key number of Ange’s thoughts had been following the same tracks as Robert’s own these past few days.

  Now Ange stood before him, strong, beautiful and proud. Showing his love, even as he tossed out the kind of challenge that goaded a response from a Master.

  Robert knew the sure way to lose a fight was by holding parts of himself back, refusing to be all-in. Ange was saying in a hundred different ways that he was all-in. Robert owed him the same. This kind of relationship—any relationship worth keeping—had to have that kind of two-way trust. A belief that the two people involved knew what they wanted, for themselves and each other.

  As Ange spoke so determinedly, Robert’s hand had curled into a half fist on the chair arm. The pounding of his heart had increased, and fire rushed through his blood.

  No more fantasizing or mulling it over. He was taking Ange to Patriarch. He’d put his resurrection in a public venue to confirm it, declare it, in the best way possible. It would celebrate what he and Ange had, solidify it. He’d immerse himself in the experience of claiming his sub in front of others who knew exactly what it meant.

  It was a damn relief to make the decision, own it.

  Robert rose, moved toward Ange. He knew what Ange was seeing in his face, because after the flash of joy, there was a satisfying bit of terror. The kid was smart enough to lower his gaze, change the defiant body language to something more deferential by the time Robert was right up on him. He stood chest to chest with him, with a slight offset so he could more easily speak right into Ange’s ear. “What makes you think you can talk to me like that?” Robert asked with sensual menace.

  “Nothing, Master,” Ange said, his voice full of warmth, healthy fear, and love. “I apologize.”

  “Uh-hunh. I’ve decided you and I are going to Patriarch for the Christmas Eve party. I’ll show you just what kind of Master owns your ass.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ange said. The sidelong glance he sent toward Robert showed eyes shining with desire and need. His fingertips grazed Robert, high on the thigh, and it was all the encouragement Robert needed.

  Being a dancer was second nature for Ange. So mu
ch a part of who he was, there was no need to think about it. It took over when called, the way it should.

  Just like being a Master did for Robert.

  He gripped Ange’s wrist, the one attached to the hand that had just touched Robert. Swift and sure, he turned it, pivoted and put Ange down on one knee at Robert’s feet. He had his other hand on the back of Ange’s neck, just like his sub had described.

  “Did I give you permission to touch me?”

  “No, sir,” Ange said, his body quivering under his hold.

  “We’re going inside so you can take care of my hard dick with your overly talkative mouth. But you’re not getting any relief until Christmas Eve. And that’s only if you show me you know how to behave.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ange said, his fingers curling against the ground, right next to Robert’s foot. It conveyed his strong desire to touch, without actually doing so. The boy always did learn quickly, picking up on the shift in the balance of power. He was damn good at reminding Robert of the power he had over him, in ways that made him a sub worth keeping.

  He changed his mind and didn’t take Ange inside. Instead Robert took him around behind the bar as he had before. Put him back on his knees and opened his jeans.

  Out here in the cold and still melting snow, on the mostly covered deck, Robert gripped his thick erection, held it in front of Ange’s attentive face.

  “You want this?”

  “Yes, Master. Please.”

  “You want my cock stretching your mouth? Gagging you, because I have no interest in being gentle. You can take it, can’t you?”

  Ange’s lips parted, his breath making his chest rise and fall fast. Robert had taken things up a notch, and Ange registered it through the appealing quiver of his body, his hands resting on his knees. “Yes, sir. I can take it. I want it.”

  “You know the drill. Just your mouth. Keep those hands locked behind your back.” Ange quickly complied, shooting satisfaction straight through Robert’s balls. “When you’re done, I’m going to play with your cock long enough to get you begging for more. Then I’m going to keep you that way every minute possible. If you come, I’ll be punishing you at Patriarch in ways you’ve never even imagined.” He sent Ange a threatening look. “I’ll probably be doing that anyway.”

  His mind was overrun with the possibilities. Which was part of feeling fully alive.

  On Christmas Eve, Ange didn’t need to be reminded of the event that would dominate the night ahead. From the time he’d woken that morning, he’d felt it in the electricity between him and his Master. Ever since Robert issued his sensual threat, that charge had only been strengthening. He’d lived up to it, way beyond expectations.

  At the store, Ange was used to Robert’s eyes falling upon him often. He counted on it, hoped for it. The new way he looked at him, now that what was between them had been put into the open, made it an even more exhilarating pleasure. Yet his Master had done more than accept what Ange had offered for so long. Robert had taken the tether of Ange’s offered submission, tossed it aside and replaced it with a chain.

  Robert had shifted from acceptance to full possession.

  Every time Ange moved, the braided collar buckled on his throat reminded him of that claim, as the edges brushed the tender spaces between his neck and collar bones.

  It made Ange long for tonight, for when his Master would take that new feeling between them, the power and heat of it, and transcend even Ange’s wildest imaginings about it.

  He was certain Robert would. Because he’d all-out challenged Robert to throw off any doubt about their relationship. Ange had been frustrated with it, needing Robert to understand how much he wanted that full claim, no turning back. Robert’s response had been a glorious, full neon flashing sign that said careful what you wish for.

  Careful was the last thing Ange wanted to be.

  When Robert had put him on his knees in that decisive move on the rooftop deck, Ange’s heart had leaped, his cock had sprung to attention, and everything in his mind had stopped. Thought wasn’t necessary. Only serving his Master’s will, his desires, bringing him approval and joy. Pleasure.

  Since then, Robert had done plenty of things to keep Ange suffering from the strongest waves of desires he’d ever felt without jerking off. At the house, throughout that afternoon and evening, all the way up to bedtime, Robert had played with Ange’s cock whenever he wished. Stopping Ange in the middle of doing whatever to open Ange’s jeans, reach in and grip his cock. His Master had tugged and stroked, growled his demands while kissing Ange’s mouth, biting his neck, until Ange was helplessly rubbing up against him. Then Robert pulled away, carefully zipped him back up and sent him off on another task with a firm slap to his ass.

  Then there’d been yesterday morning, before the store opened. Robert had been doing stuff on his computer. He’d had Ange strip out of everything but the collar, then put him on his knees next to his stool, behind the store counter. As he worked, Robert curled his fingers under Ange’s collar, idly tugging on it as he made some calls, typed one-handed on the keyboard.

  When Robert raised his hand a couple times, Ange assumed he was waving to passersby. It made Ange’s erection agonizingly hard, knowing those people had no idea the toy store proprietor, in his tidy bow tie and suspenders—and those sexy damn wire-framed reading glasses—had a naked sub kneeling at his feet.

  Getting dressed and ready to work before opening hadn’t reduced his erection in the slightest. With a wicked grin, his Master had tossed a black store apron at him. Ange had to wear it all day.

  Today was Christmas Eve, which meant a shortened workday. As far as Ange was concerned, it could have been a double shift, the way the hours crawled by. His imagination about tonight kept him agitated, only his Master’s firm direction helping to keep him focused.

  Yet when they finally closed up the store, found some dinner and went back to Robert’s place, Robert still wasn’t cutting him any slack. Soon as they were in the door, Robert made him visit the bathroom, strip, then put him on the guest bed, in the room with the cheerful sunflower motif.

  He tied Ange’s hands and ankles spread eagle with festive Christmas ribbon, a loose tie that wasn’t about keeping him helpless, but willingly bound. Then he clicked on the TV and put the remote next to Ange’s hand.

  “I have some things to do before we get ready for tonight. I’ll check on you, but you lie here and wait on your Master’s pleasure.”

  With a heavy-lidded look, Robert bent down and took Ange’s cock to the root in a heated, sucking, tongue-swirling move that had his hips jerking up and a rough groan tearing from his throat. Robert gripped his balls tight and twisted, making Ange freeze in place. His Master offered a vibrating chuckle against his shaft and played his mouth over him another minute or two before releasing Ange and giving the inside of his thigh a stinging slap. “Be a good boy.”

  Another eternity of time, otherwise known as about ninety minutes of sheer hell. Ange didn’t change the channel. When Robert came to get him, he shot him an amused look that made Ange realize it had been on some Lifetime chick flick movie he hadn’t even registered. Robert untied the ribbons, letting them float to the floor as he helped Ange to a sitting position. Then he guided Ange up the stairs to the master bedroom. He stayed just behind him, steadying Ange with a hand to his waist and his palm clamped over a naked buttock.

  “Stand in the middle of the room.”

  Robert disappeared into his closet. When he came out, he had two items. One of them, something that looked like a leather jockstrap, he put on the bed. He handed the other to Ange.

  Black ballet tights. Ange remembered the errands Robert had handled while Sully was doing his fitting, and wondered if that was when he’d picked them up. He wasn’t going to ask his Master about his shopping habits at the moment, though.

  “Put those on.”

  Robert took a seat on the edge of the bed, legs stretched out, knees spread, arms crossed. The position stretched his slacks
over his muscular thighs and emphasized the wideness of his chest and shoulders in his dress shirt. He’d removed the bow tie, the shirt open at his strong throat.

  His dark eyes stayed focused on Ange. Was it Ange’s imagination, or had they become laser-sharp in the past twenty-four hours, the planes of Robert’s handsome face even more like carved granite, implacable and relentless?

  His Master was revealing a scary, irresistible part of himself Ange had sensed, but that Robert had kept mostly hidden. Until right now.

  As Ange stripped down, that piercing gaze lingered appreciatively on the swollen state of Ange’s cock. “Got you hurting for it, don’t I, kid?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  Robert’s expression reflected approval of Ange’s gratitude. As well as the way the tights fit over the erection, concealing nothing. When Robert revolved his finger, much like that kid who’d wanted to see the carousel in action, Ange pivoted slowly.

  “You have the finest ass for fucking I have ever seen.”

  Robert rose, withdrawing his pocketknife from his slacks. Ange couldn’t help noticing his Master’s equipment was straining against the trousers as well, and licked his lips.

  “You’ll get that eventually. If you’re good. Stay still.”

  Robert had closed the distance between them. As Ange watched, barely breathing, Robert slid his hand inside the tights. His knuckles pressed against Ange’s bare cock. Though holding still when Ange was hurting this bad for it was the kind of torment only angels and demons knew, the touch was functional. And protective.

  Robert slid his knife in between his palm and the front of the tights, cutting a slit. That extra care made Ange’s erection worse, because when it came to the things his Master did to him and for him, his heart was directly connected to what was between his legs.

  Robert gripped Ange’s cock fully, causing Ange to suppress another groan as his Master pulled it out of the cut opening. Then he returned to the bed to pick up the leather jock. It had straps, buckles, metal pieces. Ange’s cock was likewise threaded through a hole in the front, so it bobbed bare and free before him. Robert ran the slender strap between Ange’s legs and threaded the back strap through it, before he cinched everything to fully secure the jock.