Velvet Memories (5 page)

The Dom retrieved the oil, letting the liquid slide down the base of Michael’s cock and flow over his balls. His cock was fucking aching, his balls so tight and swollen he was surprised they hadn’t spontaneously combusted. He arched on the table, offering himself, begging with his body for something. A touch, a taste, Hell, even a look would probably set him off at this point.

But Rob refused to look at him as he waved the candle over Michael’s groin, so the only thing Michael could do was hold his breath and wait for the first delicious drop of liquid heat touch his dick or balls.

“Do you want some more?” Rob’s breath tickled his ear.
You can handle this. Take the pleasure. There’s nothing between the two of you. Take the pleasure.

“Yes,” he murmured. “I want more.”

He was rewarded as Rob slowly allowed the hot liquid to fall down his swollen shaft, engulfing it in a white waterfall of wax. He hissed his pleasure and pain through clenched teeth, and his hips rose to meet the sweet elixir that caused just the right amount of sting but so much more satisfaction. Rob’s other hand was busy caressing his thigh, never quite touching his ball sac or dick. He felt the heat of those caresses and wished the other man would touch him, squeeze or pinch him. He didn’t really care, just as long as Rob kept his hands on him.

His entire body was on fire from his hair to his toes and he fought his reactions. Rob was taking him to a place he hadn’t been in a long time, a place of pure sensation, of bliss. Michael knew he could let himself go there just this once. It was public, it was practice and here his heart was safe.

He relaxed his entire body and slid into the space every sub hopes to achieve, allowing Rob to take him to the heights of desire and lust a good Dom sometimes could. But this was more than playing with a talented Dom, no matter how much Michael might pretend otherwise. It was the fact it was
Rob
who had him flying. It was
Rob’s
touch he needed,
Rob’s
approval he craved.

He twisted his hands in the cuffs as Rob continued to tease him with possibilities. In slow motion Rob tipped the candle slightly and Michael watched a single drop of wax fall through the air, landing perfectly on the crown of his cock.

And that was it. He came in a rush, dick flexing in its prison of hardened wax as he exploded in a fountain of painful pleasure. He heard cries as if from a distance, strangled sobs and choked-back moans, and it took a minute for him to realize he was the one making all that noise.

It felt like he came for hours, a molten flow of cum every bit as hot as the wax covering him. He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t do anything but writhe in his bonds. And then, just when he thought he was done, Rob dipped his head and caught the very tip of Michael’s cock in his mouth.

He’d thought he was wrung out, drained dry, but he’d been wrong. With one flick of his tongue, Rob wrenched a final, agonizing spasm from the base of Michael’s balls, so deep he thought the Dom might just be sucking spinal fluid out along with cum.

He forced his eyes open as Rob lifted off, and shuddered all over again when the bigger man swiped the back of his hand over his mouth, smearing a trickle of Michael’s seed over his skin before leisurely licking it clean.

* * * *

Five days later Rob could still taste Michael. Could still feel the velvety skin of Michael’s cock-head. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was taut muscled skin and pale blue eyes staring up at him.

It had been the single most erotic act of his life, and he hadn’t even fucking come.

Well, not until he was home with nothing but his fist and his lube and the memory of Michael
—
Michael at seventeen, Michael at twenty-seven, made no difference, the man was sex on legs at any age. Then he’d come. Repeatedly. With Michael’s name and the memory of Michael’s taste on his lips.

He’d finally broken down and let his fingers do the walking, needing the other man’s phone number. There was unfinished business between them, and no matter how much Rob wanted to believe what happened in high school hadn’t mattered, the truth was it did.

Did he want forgiveness, some sort of absolution from Michael for the way he’d treated him? Maybe. Hell, for the first time since his confusion back then, Rob was filled with a kind of emptiness that made sleeping impossible. He knew if he could only tell Michael he was sorry for his past behavior, then he’d be able to wake up in the morning without this constant knot lodged in his stomach.

He tried not to even think about what he wanted from Michael now. It was so much easier to just tell himself that once he’d apologized properly everything would be okay again. Deep inside, though, Rob was afraid it wasn’t true. He’d had a taste of the man, and he wanted more.

Amazingly enough, Michael’s phone number was listed. After a painfully awkward conversation filled with uncomfortable silence on both sides, Michael agreed to see him. Rob was ridiculously relieved.

Now he was sitting at a small table in Velvet Ice, his nerves on edge. Michael had left his name with the head of security, allowing Rob temporary access to the club’s notorious third floor. The same floor where only a week ago he’d had Michael strapped down to a table and writhing with pleasure.

He tried to appear at ease, sitting leisurely in a leather chair watching the open play area before him. He’d been approached by subs, both male and female, offering up their services for the evening. His dick said maybe, but his head, his heart, turned them down. Not until he talked to Michael.

He nursed his beer for a good ten minutes until he saw the other man across the floor. He swallowed hard; Michael was truly beautiful to look at as he walked toward Rob as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

Dressed only in a pair of leather pants and boots, his chest was bare. Hard pecs and sculpted abs called to Rob. His skin was lightly oiled and his nipples both sported barbells through them. Oh, and then there was the collar. Plain black leather with an intricate “V-I” worked into it, about an inch wide, and clearly worn soft with use, the collar marked Michael as clearly as a brand as everything Rob needed to get off.

Fuck, he was in trouble. How the hell was he supposed to apologize when his mouth was so fucking dry he knew he wouldn’t be able to get a word out?

Michael stopped in front of him. Rob pointed the chair next to him. “Have a seat.” His dick thumped against his zipper as Michael sprawled across from him. He couldn’t help but notice that while Michael had kept his eyes down and had nodded deferentially at several other Doms as he crossed the floor, now Michael showed no signs of submissiveness. Just a sort of detached curiosity that made Rob crazy to break through and get to some real emotion.

“You said on the phone you had something important to talk about.” Pale eyes never left his face as he waited for Rob to begin.

“Where do I start?” Rob couldn’t believe how tongue-tied he felt. He was a successful trial lawyer, for Pete’s sake. He made his living with his words. This was his opportunity to make amends, to see where the other man stood where he was concerned, and he was about to blow it because he couldn’t spit the damned words out.

“How about at the beginning?”

“I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “For the way I treated you after
…
the gym.”

Michael blinked but his expression remained relaxed, unchanged. “Okay.”

Okay
…
Okay?

“It wasn’t about you. I didn’t know who I was. Hell, wanting you was a big fucking shock to me. Admitting I was attracted to another guy scared the shit out of me.”

Michael shrugged but didn’t react much otherwise. “I figured as much. How could the star football player be gay?”

The submissive’s voice was cordial, but Rob didn’t miss the edge in those blue eyes, and his chest constricted to the point he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to draw another breath.

Impulsively he reached out and grasped Michael’s hand. “I’m not that kid anymore. I’m not afraid of who I am anymore. I just need you to understand I’m sorry I treated you the way I did.”

Michael slipped his hand out of Rob’s grasp. “If you need to hear it, then fine, you’re forgiven. It was a long time ago, Rob. I’m totally okay, and have been for many years.”

Somehow that didn’t quite ring true, but there was no flicker in Michael’s gaze. Of course, there wasn’t much emotion at all in Michael’s gaze. Still, if Michael had forgiven him, maybe
…

“Do you think
…
?”

He didn’t even get the question out before Michael stood. “Hey, we’re cool, Rob, but I have to get back to work now.” He turned his back to Rob
—
an action that fairly screamed he didn’t see Rob as Dominant to him
—
and walked away as casually as he’d come. Rob picked up his beer, only now his fingers were shaking. He’d been given forgiveness but it felt empty. There was no relief running through his veins. No, the only thing he was feeling was the soul-deep need to have Michael naked and on his knees before him. The need to see that dark head bowed as the submissive shivered in anxious pleasure. He felt the ghost of Michael’s hand in his and he wanted more. He
needed
more. There was no way in Hell he was letting things end here. There was no doubt in his mind; Michael was meant to be his.

He scanned the room and spotted Master Sin. Mind made up, he stood and approached the events coordinator of Velvet Ice.

* * * *

Michael had been summoned to Master Brady Ryder’s office, a place he hadn’t set foot in since his initial job interview. He was terrified for no other reason than because it was Brady. The badass boss of Velvet Ice tended to have that effect on most people who came into contact with the scary recluse.

Praying no one had made a complaint against him, he knocked on the door and opened it when the gravelly voice behind it commanded him to enter.

The Master was sitting behind his large beat-up desk, an application folder in his hand. “Mike. Sit.”

It was on the tip on his tongue to correct Brady and tell him it was Michael, not Mike, but one look at the huge, tattooed Dom and Michael thought better and clamped his lips tight.

Brady sat back. “Mistress Violet brought me a new application from a prospective Dom this morning. My inclination is to accept, but it’s come to my attention you may have an issue with him.”

Michael felt his brows rise. This was the last thing he’d expected. While he knew Master Brady was beyond careful of the Club submissives, he’d never heard of quite this level of concern before.

Brady slid a folder across the massive desktop, and his large tattooed biceps drew Michael’s gaze like a moth to a flame. He didn’t know whether he wanted to shiver in anticipation or in fear. He forced himself to breathe; he wasn’t here because of something
he’d
done. He’d been brought into the tiger’s den because of an applicant.

Forcing his eyes away from the charismatic Dom, he saw the name on the application and sighed. He should have known it was Rob. The grown-up version of his high school crush had already been haunting his dreams, and now he was doing a pretty damned good job of tormenting his waking hours, too. Michael’s body reacted instantly, heating and growing hard. Dammit, how was he suppose to forget about the first man who ever broke his heart if he kept showing up and now he wanted to become a member of Michael’s own club?

“Mike, I need to know if there is some compelling reason why I should give this guy a no.”

Michael didn’t know how to respond.

“I know you two have a past,” the big Dom continued.

When Michael opened his mouth to reply, Brady held up his hand. “I don’t want to know the details. Trust me, I’ve been told enough.” Michael’s mind reeled at the thought of Rob sharing the story of their single, disastrous tryst with the formidable Brady Ryder.
Oh, God
. He forced himself to relax as Brady’s scowl softened just the tiniest bit. “I won’t allow him in if he’s going to cause you any trouble.”

The club owner was acting like a papa bear. Michael felt dizzy and his chest warmed. He’d been so alone since his mother’s death during his first year of college, and Velvet Ice had provided him a pseudo family, people who understood him and cared for him. The fact Brady was among them threatened to crack Michael’s composure.

Michael flicked his eyes back to the application. As much as he’d like to deny it, Rob becoming a member of the Club would probably present all kinds of problems for him. Hell, the man’s apology two nights before had almost gutted Michael.

But he couldn’t very well tell Master Brady to reject Rob’s membership just because the guy had broken his heart ten years ago. He might be submissive, but he wasn’t a crybaby. Besides, there was no way he was going to whine to his boss about his personal life.

“No, Sir, I don’t have a reason why you shouldn’t grant the application.”

“Are you sure?” The other man was searching his face as if looking for proof of his feelings.

Michael shook his head. “I’m sure.” He pushed the folder back to Brady.

“Fine. I’ll have Mistress Violet process it.” Brady closed the folder and shoved it aside. “You can go.”