Bound and Determined (19 page)

from having his asshole stretched and filled this way, coaxing his erection back

to life by sheer willpower. His father wasn't going to win this battle.

“Ready now?” Owen asked, his voice soft, undemanding, so perfectly in

tune with Sterling that it was all the reassurance he needed to nod.

When Owen started to move his hand again, wide fingers pushing wetly

into Sterling with slow, even pressure, Sterling let himself moan and enjoy it,

immerse himself in it. This was who he was, and there was no shame in taking

pleasure in whatever brought him pleasure. He wasn't sure he believed in God,

but even if he did, he wouldn't have believed in a God that thought sex was a

sin, no matter who one's partner was.

Inside, Owen crooked his fingers, and the pressure against his prostate

was enough to make Sterling moan again, more deeply this time. “This is so—

Owen, it's so good. Please don't stop.”

“You're doing so well,” Owen said, his husky voice like another touch on

Sterling's body. “I want you to show me how much you like this, though. Come

for me, Sterling. Let yourself go. I've got you.”

As incredible as it felt, it was hard to come. Sterling
wanted
to, but letting

himself surrender completely, to take that last step when he'd avoided this for

so long, was more of a challenge than he'd expected. For long minutes he

hovered on the edge of orgasm, eyes tightly shut, hips working with the rhythm

of Owen's hand, trying to get there.

And then, like a sharp slap, it hit him—he
didn't
have to try, and, in fact,

he needed to stop trying. As soon as he realized that, it happened; his balls

tightened, his ass tightened, and he came so fast that a surprised cry escaped

his lips. He jerked and gasped, the rush of pleasure hot and more intense than

anything he'd ever felt, and Owen's fingers were
inside
him, and by the time it

was over he felt like he'd run a couple of marathons and followed it up with a

fourteen-inning baseball game.

“I can move,” he offered finally, slurring his words more than a little.

“Whenever you're ready,” Owen replied easily and slid his fingers out,

leaving Sterling with a sense of loss and an empty, throbbing sensation that

took a while to fade.

* * * * *

possibly even more gentle and slow than Sterling had been himself, but it had

just made Sterling's feelings for him deepen. Owen was the one in charge; he

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easily could have been rough and impatient with Sterling. But Sterling
trusted

him, and he hadn't done anything to make Sterling regret that.

Which meant that he was really,
really
frustrated that Owen wouldn't fuck

him.

“I said four months,” Owen had snapped the last time Sterling had

brought it up. “What or who gave you the impression that part of a sub's duty

is to nag and argue with his Dom?”

Sterling had ducked his head and accepted that rebuke then, but tonight

he was determined to make Owen see sense. When the guy was spanking him,

tying him up, finger fucking him and using a variety of plugs and dildos to get

Sterling to the point of
sobbing
with the need to come, actual tears trickling wet

and warm down his face, his breathing shot to hell, this insistence that they

couldn't have sex seemed worn ragged around the edges.

Everything that Owen
did
was sexy; he could get Sterling's dick twitching

with a word, a look—and Sterling was starting to fantasize about getting

Owen's dick in his mouth. He'd shared enough showers with Owen to know

what it looked like when it was full and thick, beaded with water, slicked with

soap, and he wanted to taste it—God, he wanted to fall to his knees and

fucking
worship
it, but Owen wouldn't let him.

He held his position and tried to keep his breathing even and quiet as

Owen turned a page of the book he was reading, a glass of single malt within

reach. Doing this was something that had taken him a while to get used to; it

had felt too much like being ignored, and he'd been restless, willing to risk

Owen's annoyance if it got him some attention.

What it had gotten him when he'd sighed loudly for the third time, rocking

to a more comfortable position, was an order to get dressed and Owen's hand

on the small of his back, propelling him firmly out the front door.

He'd learned to love it, though, after he'd begged, with a penitence that

after four days without seeing Owen was genuine, to be allowed to try again.

Slowly, as he knelt by Owen's side, he'd come to realize that he was as

important a part of the picture as the book, the drink, and the flickering fire.

More, he got to watch Owen, if he was careful, and when he'd slid into a state

of waiting without urgency, he'd gotten a hand caressing his hair and face and

a smile from Owen that was grateful as well as appreciative.

Tonight he waited for that light touch before speaking, knowing that this

was Owen at his most mellow.

When it came, he breathed in slowly, determined to keep his voice as calm

and reasonable as he could. “Owen, can we talk about something, please?”

Owen didn't answer right away, but Sterling was careful not to assume

anything based on that. He waited, patient, until Owen finished the page he'd

been reading, put a slip of paper between the pages to mark his place, and set

the book aside. “What did you want to talk about?” Owen asked.

Bound and Determined

79

“If you'd consider making an exception to your rule about my age,”

Sterling said. He'd chosen the words with care, not wanting the conversation to

deteriorate before it had even started because of the way he put it. “Please hear

me out. I know you must have your reasons, but I'm having a hard time

understanding them. I'm over the age of eighteen, which is the legal age of

consent in every state in this nation, and I know what I want. You aren't

coercing me—if anything, I'm the one trying to convince you. But I want—I

need
to take this further.”

“You still don't understand why I'm insisting on this, do you?” Owen

gestured him up with an annoyed flick of his fingers. “Get dressed and sit down

over there.”

When Owen was irritated, Sterling got even harder, an automatic

response. He stood up smoothly and moved to put on his clothes. Being told to

do so wasn't a good sign, he didn't think, but at least it meant that Owen was

taking him seriously. He hoped.

Sterling pulled his T-shirt over his head and sat down in the other chair.

“I want you to know I'm not asking to piss you off, and I'm not trying to rush

you or anything. God knows before school started if someone had told me I'd be

begging to be fucked up the ass I'd have laughed so hard I'd have hurt myself.”

He offered Owen a small smile, hoping for an answering one to reassure him.

He was disappointed. If anything, Owen looked as if he was on the edge of

losing his temper, his lips tight and a faint flush rising in his face. After a

moment, Owen opened his mouth and chipped off an icy, “Thank you for that

eloquent assurance that you've overcome at least one of your shortcomings.

Now maybe you can work on some of the others. Like obeying the single rule

you agreed to when this started without endless complaints, nagging, whining,

and attempts to cajole me into changing my mind. Because quite frankly,

you're boring me.”

Sterling felt like he'd just had a glass of cold water dashed into his face.

His stomach was churning because he
knew
that Owen got bored with subs

fast, and somehow he'd managed to convince himself that things would be

different with him, that he
wouldn't
be boring. “I'm not whining,” he protested.

“And I don't see what part of what you just said is an explanation, or how it's

supposed to help me understand the reason behind the rule. You
know
I want

to follow the rules. I want to do this right. I just need to
get it
.”

“Some Doms would say that all you
needed
was to do as you were told,

without question, once I'd earned your trust,” Owen said tightly. “Since I've

always encouraged you to ask questions, you can probably tell it's not a view I

share, but there's some truth in it. I choose my subs for their intelligence, not

their pretty little asses and smiles, and I like to think that they've got the

brains to work some things out for themselves.”

They were facing each other across the room, and Sterling wanted to be

back where he'd been, kneeling naked within reach of Owen's hand, so much

so that it was hard to stay in his chair.

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“So tell me, Sterling, can you think of any reason why I'm being so very

fucking unreasonable?”

“No, but you haven't explained yourself,” Sterling said. He should shut up,

he knew that, apologize and beg for forgiveness and assure Owen he'd never

bring it up again, but damn it, he was an adult and this was a relationship and

he had a say. “I just want to understand.
Why
is it so important?” This was a

mistake, a terrible mistake. He'd fucked everything up by not keeping quiet

when he should have, and now he was in over his head and it was too late.

Owen got to his feet, words spilling out, forceful and bitter. “Because

beyond the obvious rules to keep you safe, the worst thing a Dom can do is

waver, be indecisive, second-guess himself. Because that single stipulation,

that I admit I came up with more in an attempt to get you to rethink your

pursuit than because I had a real objection to fucking you, is the basis of our

arrangement. Because you weren't
ready
to get fucked, remember? Because

you were, and are, a student at the college where I work. Because there's

maybe more of the masochist in me than I realized.” He took a deep breath,

and his voice dropped to a conversational tone again, though his hands, before

he shoved them into the pockets of his jeans, were shaking. “Did
none
of that

occur to you? Really? I guess you're still as spoiled as the boy who came up to

me moments after an emotional scene and demanded that I set aside my

disappointment over failing to get the best from my sub to dance to his tune.”

Owen walked over to him, and Sterling winced as his chin was gripped

and forced upward, the first rough touch he'd ever had from that hand. It had

spanked him, fastened ropes and cuffs to his wrists and ankles, held a paddle

that stung and bruised his ass, but this was the first time it had hurt him. “I

don't want to dance to it anymore.”

“Owen…” Sterling looked up at him helplessly, wishing he could take all of

this back. A couple more months of waiting and he could have everything, but

he'd had to push and ask for more, had to be impatient. Damn it.

As angry at himself as he was at Owen, he stood up, shoved Owen's hand

away from his face and stood toe to toe with him, eyes blazing. He didn't say

anything at first, just glared at the man he'd thought would be his.

“You know what? Fine. I don't care. You think I need this? You're wrong.

And for the record, I'm
not
your student anymore, and if you think there aren't

hundreds and thousands of couples out there who started from some kind of

place where they maybe shouldn't have been together, you're crazy. No one

cares what we do!”

“If you can't respect my wishes in this—if you can't wait—” Owen

compressed his lips to a thin line, visibly struggling for a calm that Sterling had

thought ran bone-deep. “This isn't helping either of us, and it's damaging the

little we
have
managed to achieve. I suggest that we—”

“Take a break,” Sterling said. “I think we need to take a break, because I

can handle you being in charge, and I can handle doing what you tell me to do,

but I can't handle not understanding
why
, and no matter how many times I

Bound and Determined

81

ask, you won't tell me. Which tells me you don't respect me.” That was the

realization that pissed him off the most—he'd thought, at the very least, that

Owen respected him, but he obviously didn't, and right now, knowing that,

Sterling couldn't stand to look at him.

“I'm telling you, but you're not listening,” Owen said wearily. “You filter

everything through your own wishes and needs, and it's rare that you consider

anyone else's. You're immature, and that's nothing to do with your age; it's