“Yes. Yes. I remember.”
“Good.” Nick released one of Spencer’s wrists, and the cuffs rattled as Spencer brought his arms back down. Spencer started to sit up, but Nick stopped him. “Not yet. I still have to take off the other cuff.”
Spencer looked at his wrist, bewildered, like he didn’t even realize the metal bracelet was still attached.
Nick took his hand. “You did very well.” He trailed his other hand from Spencer’s elbow down his forearm, inching towards the cuff. “You’re so obedient, Spencer.”
Spencer shifted a little. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.” Still holding onto Spencer’s hand and lightly touching his forearm, Nick leaned in and kissed Spencer. He kept teasing Spencer’s arm with feather-light touches as he gently urged Spencer’s lips apart with his tongue. Nick was painfully hard now, anticipating the eager, enthusiastic blowjob that was only a command away, but he hid it from Spencer and just made out with him lazily, gently.
He searched blindly for the cuff, and found it. Then the quick release. All he had to do was flick that switch, that tiny sliver of metal pressing into the pad of his thumb, and the cuff would come off, and then Spencer would be on his knees and sucking Nick’s cock.
One motion. One command. And he knew Spencer was hyperaware of that too. Poised and ready to drop to his knees the instant he was both commanded and allowed. The kiss they shared intensified with each passing second, Nick’s pulse rising and his hand barely staying steady on the quick release switch as he and Spencer kissed, and he wasn’t sure how he was just as out of breath as Spencer now, but he was.
He pressed the switch.
The cuff loosened around Spencer’s wrist.
A less obedient sub would’ve shaken off the cuff and dropped to the floor in an instant.
Spencer didn’t move. When Nick broke the kiss, Spencer shuddered and whispered, “Please?”
Nick kissed him once more. Then, “On your knees.”
The speed with which Spencer went from sitting on the bed to kneeling on the floor almost made Nick come. As Spencer knelt and waited, Nick swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and lowered himself onto his feet. And still, Spencer didn’t move. He knew the command, knew what Nick wanted him to do, but he hadn’t been given permission yet.
Nick touched Spencer’s face. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Sweating, out of breath, both shaking a little, they held each other’s gazes.
Promise me you’ll think about doing something, giving something up so you can be happy.
Spencer’s eyes were wide, a little wet from the intensity of everything they’d just done, and Nick swore they said, If you give something up, please don’t let it be me.
Nick drew his hand back, gave the slightest nod, and Spencer didn’t hesitate—he opened his lips and took Nick’s cock as far as he could manage. Even more—and this part was oddly touching—he didn’t use his hands, kept his wrists crossed on his back. Like Nick had taught him on a different occasion, and the fact that he remembered thrilled Nick as much as the wetness and heat of Spencer’s mouth.
He placed a hand on Spencer’s head, kept his gaze steady on his face; Spencer’s expression was blank and focused, every slide along Nick’s cock worshipful and loving. Spencer loved doing this, loved doing it for him, and Nick held tight onto his own control to enjoy this just for a little longer. Tongue, suction, the gorgeous man on his knees, utterly focused not on multimillion-pound deals and contracts, but on sucking Nick’s cock. He looked blissfully happy.
Nick gritted his teeth at a clever slide of Spencer’s tongue over the head of his dick, his own control brittle now. He didn’t like denying himself any more than anybody else would, though he sometimes let it deliberately build.
He urged Spencer’s head forward, and was rewarded with Spencer swallowing him all the way down. The workings of his muscles against the invasion did it. Two, three, four deep strokes right down Spencer’s throat, and orgasm hit him. He pulled back, though it cost him, and managed to come against Spencer’s face and neck rather than down his throat. Spencer looked up at him as Nick pumped his own cock, milking himself through the orgasm and painting Spencer’s skin.
“I want . . . to feel you inside me next . . . next time,” Spencer said, gently, softly, a polite request rather than bargaining.
Nick nodded, breathless, teeth gritted. He touched Spencer’s face, traced a drop of his own semen down towards the corner of Spencer’s mouth. “Can’t wait.”
Spencer smiled at him, making no movement to clean himself. Nick reached for one of the towels, used the corner of it to wipe his semen off Spencer’s skin, then put the towel down.
“Thank you,” Spencer said.
Nick bent down and kissed him again. “Come up into the bed.”