Which is accurate. And he’s never come so hard in his entire life. He’s also never been that hard. And he feels good again. Being with Colton is practically magical. Whatever Colton wants, he will do. That’s his conclusion.
Colton is dressed when he comes out. He’s holding a pair of pants and Graham reaches for them. “No. I’ll help you. One leg at a time. Come on, honey.”
“I can dress myself.”
“Don’t argue, sweetheart. I want to keep you at least a little bit down for as long as possible. You need it and so do I.”
Graham tries to think about that a little, why Colton wants to keep him in a soft, receptive headspace, but he can’t come up with a reason.
“Why?” he asks, because he always needs a reason.
Colton shakes the pants in his hands and Graham goes closer, lets Colton help him into them. It makes him blush, makes his cock twitch in interest. He kisses Colton’s neck because he can and because he wants Colton to know that he’s his if he wants him.
He’s glad they’re not arguing anymore, can barely remember why he was so upset. He pulls back, swallows hard. “The submissive, we were talking about him.”
Colton frowns, presses closer and closer until Graham backs up, yielding easily until his back hits the wall. He adjusts his stance, legs open enough for Colton to stand between them. It makes him a little shorter than Colton and it would be so easy for Colton to reach between his legs and touch him. Hurt him, make him feel good. They’re the same thing.
“We’re not going back to that now. Time to go home, sweetheart. Open your mouth,” he says, and he pulls a piece of gum out of his pocket. It’s small and rectangular. “This is to sit on your tongue until we get home. You don’t chew it, don’t move it around your mouth, and certainly don’t fucking talk.”
He opens his mouth and Colton puts the gum on his tongue. He closes his mouth. It’s weird. His dick considers getting hard. Which is even weirder.
Colton takes a step away from him and Graham grabs his arm in protest. “Put this on, sweetheart,” Colton says as he picks up a zip-up hoodie and holds it so Graham can put his arms through. Has that been there the whole time? His hands come forward to zip it himself and Colton gives him a look.
He drops his hands and waits.
Colton zips it up, reaches a hand between Graham’s legs, fingers running lightly along his perineum to the plug. He presses firmly against it through the material and Graham makes a sound.
“How are you? Your fucked-open hole?” Colton is watching his face, searching for his own answer. “Are you healing already?”
Graham nods.
“Will you be all better by the time we get to my place?”
Graham shrugs, uncertain.Probably.
“Interesting.” Colton turns away and then back. “Hands.” And he shows Graham the cuffs.
He lets Colton snap them on. The first click of the handcuff has him flinching, straining closer to Colton. “Good boy. Other hand, sweetheart.”
Graham is trembling as he holds out the other hand. Another click as the metal locks. Colton gives the cuffs a gentle tug and Graham’s hearing goes a little funny, almost a ringing in his ears. He clenches on the plug inside him, would thank Colton if he could talk.
His Dominant has taken away his ability to speak, to move freely, has filled him with come and a plug and smeared it all over him. He’s owned. His will, his ability to act, even his identity as a person who makes his own decisions are all being wiped away.
He loves it. He strains hard against the cuffs, not wanting out but feeling like he has to try.
“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere, poor thing.”
He drags in a breath through his nose, pulls against the cuffs again. Colton pulls out a leash, an honest-to-god fucking leash, and clips it between the cuffs. He’s holding the lead in his hand.
Graham shakes his head and Colton grabs him by the jaw. “Is there some reason that you are physically unable to do this?”
Graham looks down. His jaw works to say something and he almost chews the gum.
Colton is watching him. “This is what I want from you. Silence. Obedience,” he says, and he tugs gently on the leash.
Graham drops to the ground. His legs have been shaking and the urge was hard to resist. He rests his head against Colton’s thigh.
“We’re ready now,” he says loudly and the door opens. Colton’s hand drops to his hair and grabs it gently, reassuringly, telling him to stay. He doesn’t need to look up. This doesn’t concern him. He’s removed from the occasion. He presses his forehead deeper into the muscle, not liking that someone is now looking at him on the ground.
