Everything in Time

Автор: Ravenschild

Dark hair that curled into the collar of his finely cut linen shirt, open enough to show a well-muscled physique. Blue eyes the color of sapphire cut through him like a blowtorch.

“Thank you, but I’m waiting for someone,” Connor said, keeping his face and voice carefully neutral.

“Oh, but I thought you were a willingslave.” Denisoff smiled again, disarmingly urbane and attractive. He exuded an aura of sensuality that Connor was hard pressed to ignore as he sat down.

“You sent me a dud photo.” Connor stood up, ready to leave.

“Please. I apologize for the ruse.” The voice was cultured, educated and European, a slight intonation that suggested Russian. That wasn’t in the file; but, then again, no one had gotten this close to the man.

“And you thought it necessary because…?” Connor was still standing, clearly indicating trust was an important issue for him. For him to submit willingly, the Dom knew he had to have complete trust and he’d blown it. The ruse put Connor in control and he felt more at ease with his role.

“The internet is such an impersonal device, is it not?” Denisoff reached forward and gripped Doyle’s hand in his own and guided him back to the chair. “Many times I’ve been taken advantage of; my photo, as it were, has been over the internet and circulated in less than salubrious situations.”

“Go on.” Connor dropped his eyes to the hand that held his and the first faint stirrings of fear prickled his skin.

“And often the people I’m to meet have done the same thing to me. So this way we both get to look first before we approach each other. It is fair, yes?”

“I guess,” Connor mumbled as he opened the packet of cigarettes and offered one to his companion. Denisoff simply declined but did offer a light and Connor took notice of every movement.

“You will allow me to buy you a drink?” Denisoff asked.

The first test, he was specific when he asked for nondrinkers and boys who were drug free, although it had been many years since Connor considered himself a boy he understood the intimidation that it implied.

“No, thank you, I don’t drink.” Connor was polite, painfully so, as if he were at his grandfather’s knee.

“Good boy,” Denisoff approved and Connor stiffened when he caught sight of a familiar shock of gray hair. Peter moved with a feral, sinuous ease, almost gliding to the bar, the touches being largely ignored, and a beer was on the polished steel top before he arrived to order it.

Within seconds, he was approached by a man, mid to late thirties, attractive in an aquiline way. His body was well toned; he was slightly smaller than Peter, and he had light curly hair. Connor watched, almost slack jawed, as, without preamble, Peter approached the man, ran his hand up the side of his face and leaned in for a deep, intimate kiss. He pulled back moments later and smiled, his eyes flicking over to Connor’s.

“This is rather exposed. Shall we move?” Denisoff asked quietly, guiding Connor to the back of the bar and into one of the booth tables. The red glass jar, filled with a glowing candle in an attempt to create ambiance, was lost in the dark jungle of scents and tainted leather.

Connor complied almost too willingly as his brain short-circuited for a moment and he remembered the words Peter had spoken earlier. “Only when I want the company of men.” He understood now and a dozen smaller things clicked into place. Peter and his friend had moved to the dance floor, lips locked the whole way; but instead of a lover’s embrace, Peter kept his distance. It was a distance Connor had felt the full glare of lately and he understood why it bothered him so much. Peter was a passionate man; for him to be not invested in the act sent waves of guilt and longing up Connor’s spine, and at the same moment a hand settled on his shoulders.

Too heavy to be gentle, holding him firmly in place and squeezing the muscles under his hand, a little too hard to be kind. Connor lowered his eyes instinctively.

“So, boy, have you had a master before?” Denisoff asked and Connor gave his full attention to the dangerous man next to him.

“Yes, sir.”

“Indeed, sometime ago I would think.”

“Not so distant.”

“Does he know you are out looking for a new Master?”

“No, I doubt he’d care.”

“I find that hard to believe; someone like you only comes once in a while. A willing slave who will sacrifice himself to my every desire is a rare jewel.”

“He probably doesn’t even remember my name,” Connor pouted softly and the hard hand held him firmer in place.

“I don’t have that problem. I remember them all, boy, every single one, every one night stand, every boy, every toy, every moment.” Denisoff leaned over and ran his tongue up the side of Connor’s face, tasting him as with the fingers of his other hand he traced a pattern up the inside of Connor’s thighs. “Do I need to tell you to spread your legs?” Denisoff said almost nastily as his hand gripped Connor’s balls and tightened sharply, causing his vision to blur momentarily. He gasped and leaned forward against the table. “Ah, better.” And the pain diminished as he spread his legs and allowed the man further access.

“Hands on the table,” Denisoff ordered. “Now tell me,” he opened the top button of the tight jeans and began to slide the zipper down, “do you enjoy being collared?” His fingers brushed skin; the second test, no underwear, and Denisoff smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

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