Love in the Land of Fire (11 page)

Rafe reaches for his zipper and Josiah frowns and grabs his hands. This thing between them is about more than sex and he wants Rafe to know that as well.

“Turn around.” His voice is low but not harsh and Rafe seems to relax at the sound of it as he twists around until his back is facing Josiah.

“Closer, wrap your arm around my calf and relax yourself. You need to learn that I’ll take care of you, Rafe, so stay there until I tell you to move. You will tell me immediately if you’re uncomfortable or in any pain, do you understand?”

Rafe nods his head silently as he wraps one tanned arm around Josiah’s calf, leaning himself against Josiah and trusting him to give the support that he needs.

The room goes silent again, Josiah turning back to the p.a.t.c.h that rests in his hand as he tries to lose himself in the remainder of the information that Gar had sent him. He makes sure to continue touching Rafe periodically, running a hand through his hair, scraping his nails gently across his scalp, trailing a finger softly down the curve of his neck. All of his actions are silent reminders to Rafe that he’s there, that he’s present and has not forgotten about him.

Eventually Josiah manages to actually get absorbed in the files; Gar’s sent him a truly impressive amount of information and Josiah is afraid that he’s going to owe Gar more than one after this. After he’s slogged through a good amount he’s distracted as he feels Rafe shift slightly against him and he takes a look at the time. It’s been well over an hour now and he’s pleased with the way that Rafe’s acted. He’d accepted his directions without complaint and Josiah knows that this is just the beginning for them.

“Rafe.” Josiah calls his name softly and when he gets no answer he leans forward and tips Rafe’s head back so that he can see his face.

Rafe’s green eyes are glazed over, his expression perfectly at ease and a tiny half smile flirting with the edge of his mouth. Josiah calls his name again, even softer than the first time, and those thick black lashes flutter 5as Rafe finally focuses.

“Oh.” It’s a tiny sigh of a sound but the contentment, the relaxation that it holds goes straight to Josiah’s cock and he has to resist the urge to turn things in another direction instead of what he has planned for the moment.

“You went down far for our first time.” It’s true and Josiah does nothing to hide the pleasure it brings him to know that already he can take Rafe down so far without even really touching him.

“Hmm.” Rafe hums a pleased sound and rubs the back of his upturned head against the firm wall of Josiah’s thigh.

“Do you need help standing?”

Rafe seems to contemplate the question for a moment before he nods as he slowly unwraps his arm from its place around Josiah’s leg. Josiah stands up, careful not to jostle Rafe as he maneuvers around until he’s in front of him looking down at his still kneeling form. He reaches out a hand and is pleased when Rafe immediately clasps it in his own. He tugs the submissive to his feet, steadying him when he stumbles slightly because his legs are most likely asleep after so long in one position.

He guides him around the living room a few times, careful to make sure that Rafe stretches and gets his blood flowing properly. Then when he knows that Rafe’s steady and able to support himself he releases his hold and turns to look him in the eyes.

“You and I need to speak. Sit down on the couch and listen to me very carefully.”

Rafe immediately sinks down on the cushions, his body reacting almost without thought to the commanding tone in Josiah’s voice.

“We still need to deal with what happened earlier, Rafe.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Josiah takes a deep breath and lets the part of himself that he’s always held back rise closer to the surface, the part that chafes with the urge to dominate, to show others their place beneath him. It’s a part of him that he’s never really been able to embrace, never been able to truly tap into with any of the submissives at the pleasure houses, no matter their tier. He intends to unleash it on Rafe fully however, intends to show him just how he really is.

“You offered yourself to me, offered me a contract and then you went against the spirit of that offer, Rafe.”

Rafe stares at him in disbelief and confusion and when he speaks his voice reflects both.

“I…we haven’t actually entered into the contract yet and from what I saw we won’t be able to for a while, if ever, since I doubt Noah’s going to give up without a fight.”

The newly unleashed part of Josiah growls in displeasure at hearing
his
submissive speak of another with such familiarity. Josiah reaches down and tangles a hand deep in Rafe’s hair, a gesture that he’s quickly become obsessed with, and tips his head further back.

“His name is Frisch. You’ll not be so familiar towards him again; he’s neither asked for nor earned the right to have you use his first name. Do you understand me? You’re mine now whether we have a contract at the moment or not. He’ll
never
get you back.”

5Rafe’s breathing goes deep and his eyes are wide as Josiah looks closely at him. There’s no fear in his gaze, which is something Josiah is thankful for. Rafe seems to know instinctively that Josiah’s not trying to truly hurt him; he’s simply exerting his rights as his dominant. Still holding Rafe by the hair Josiah lowers his voice again, lets it slip into the commanding baritone from before.

“You damaged my property, Rafe.” He sees the confusion on Rafe’s face and knows that he’s going to have to explain, knows that this is something that Rafe will not understand to begin with, but it’s something that they both need.

“You’d already offered yourself to me, had already offered me your contract, and yet you turned on me, Rafe. You didn’t trust me enough to not jump to conclusions. More than that you turned on yourself, tried to take blame that I didn’t give to you and that’s not how this works.”

Rafe gapes at him, stunned at what Josiah’s implying before words begin to tumble out of him.

“That’s…you can’t do…you can’t punish me for blaming myself for something!”

“It’s well within my right as your dominant when that blame is doing you harm that I’ve not approved.”

“What was I supposed to think, Josiah? My own Head of House, my father’s sister, wouldn’t help me. No matter what I did, no matter what I said, there was never anywhere to turn, never any way out until that last day. If no one else had a problem with what was going on, how could I not believe that the problem was with me?”

Josiah doesn’t ignore Rafe’s words but he doesn’t respond to them either. Technically he knows that what Rafe’s saying is true, but he has a point to make and he’s not going to get sidetracked. He loosens his hold on Rafe’s hair and slides his fingers through the strands as he pulls back so he can grasp him by the chin instead.

“I’m going to go into my bedroom and I’m going to wait for you, Rafe. If you want to be here, if you want to be
mine
, then you’ll come to me. If not then go to your room and don’t come out for the rest of the night.”

He lets his hand fall away from Rafe’s chin, spins on his heel and goes to his room, careful to leave the door open a crack so that Rafe knows to come inside. He wants to pace but he doesn’t let himself. Instead he stands silently at the end of his bed and waits. Rafe will have to come to him, will have to willingly place himself into Josiah’s hands knowing that punishment is imminent if this is going to work between them. Josiah can’t be a proper dominant to a submissive that subconsciously fears him and isn’t willing to submit to the proper forms of punishment.

Five minutes pass agonizingly slow and then another and Josiah’s about to give up when he hears Rafe’s soft footsteps come padding down the hallway. He holds his breath, waits for the horrible moment when the sound passes by his door and heads towards Rafe’s instead. It never comes. Rafe enters his room cautiously, like he’d not just spent the hours curled tightly in Josiah’s arms on those same rumpled sheets. Josiah stares at him silently for a moment before he motions for Rafe to come closer until he’s standing directly in front of him.

“Strip.”

Rafe falters for a moment before he seems to gather himself and pulls down the loose sleep pants he’s wearing with a single fluid motion. He picks them up and folds them without being told and presents the small bundle of cloth to Josiah like an offering. He takes it carefully and places it on the smooth top of his dresser before he turns back to Rafe.

The submissive is beautiful, long planes of smooth, tanned skin and perfectly formed muscles. It hits Josiah 5suddenly that Frisch must have paid a small fortune in medical care to keep Rafe from scarring too badly. He shakes the thought off viciously and focuses back on Rafe’s nude form. This time he doesn’t try to hide the desire that he knows is shining in his eyes or the way his cock is rapidly filling from the submissive.

He wants Rafe to know that even if he’s displeased with him, even if he’s going to punish him, he’ll always want him, will always desire him. The trick is going to be showing Rafe that punishment and pain are not always bad things, that they can heal as well as harm, and that it’s something they both need to be happy.

Josiah walks a small circle around Rafe, reaching out a hand and running the tips of his fingers over Rafe’s chest and back as he goes.

“A dominant is nothing without a submissive and all dominants dream of having a beautiful one. And you are beautiful, Rafe. Now say yellow if I’m approaching your limit and red if I reach it.”

Rafe jerks at the mention of a safe-word and Josiah has to grit his teeth at the anger that rises in his chest at seeing the open surprise on his face. He hopes Frisch gives him an excuse so that he can rip his throat out with his
teeth
.

“You won’t need it this time, hopefully not ever, but you will have one. I’m going to hurt you, Rafe, and you’ll take it because you’ll want to please me, but I promise that I’ll never actually damage you. You’ll always be cared for, Rafe, always be the first thing on my mind before anyone or anything else. I’ll protect you even if it means protecting you from myself.”

Josiah takes a step back away from Rafe and settles down on the edge of his bed.

“Now, over my knee.”

Rafe only hesitates for a moment—Josiah’s more than willing to overlook it this time given the circumstances

—before he steps forward and lays himself face down across Josiah’s lap. Josiah runs a hand gently down Rafe’s flank, fingers flirting with the cleft of his ass, dipping in for a second to prod gently before retreating again. Rafe squirms lightly and Josiah stops him with a firm hand on his hip before he pulls it away.

“There is no count. I’ll stop when I think I’ve made my point and I don’t want to hear a sound until you can’t hold it anymore.”

Rafe nods jerkily and Josiah begins.

He delivers the first five strokes in quick succession, not pausing as he spreads them evenly across the rapidly reddening skin of Rafe’s ass. Rafe holds still, his body telegraphing resistance, but Josiah presses on. He falls into a rhythm, finding the necessary headspace easily as he alternates the speed and spacing so that Rafe is incapable of anticipating them. Rafe’s fingers tangle in the loose material of Josiah’s pants leg but he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t try to get away, and Josiah is proud.

Josiah redoubles his efforts, working towards a goal that he can’t properly express. He knows what needs to happen, knows what they both need; it’s just a matter of getting there.

When Rafe finally breaks, Josiah has no idea what the count is. His hand is fairly numb and Rafe’s ass is darkening with the promise of bruises, but it’s worth it for the way that Rafe clutches at him and groans deep in his throat. Josiah counts out ten more swift strikes as Rafe moans softly across his knees before he stops and slides an arm under Rafe’s chest to pull him upright and into his lap. Rafe’s eyes are blood shot, his face streaked with tears and sweat, but there’s also relief in his gaze, the beginnings of a sort of peace that reaches out and grips Josiah hard.

“You did so good, Rafe, so perfect. I’m so proud of you.” He cradles Rafe’s long body closer to him, 5tucking the submissive’s head under his chin as he rocks them both back and forth.

“Let it all out, Rafe. Give me everything just like we agreed. You’re not alone anymore.”

Rafe sobs then, tears coming full tilt and without hesitation. Just like earlier, when Rafe had wept silently into his shirtfront, Josiah knows it’s a good thing. Before had been about releasing Rafe’s pent up emotions but this, this was about absolution, about true healing.

“Thank you.” Rafe whispers the words into the hollow of Josiah’s throat and all he can do is smile, a small upturning of his lips that doesn’t do justice to the way he’s feeling inside.

He holds Rafe carefully for a moment before he prompts him to stand. Rafe’s shaky when he gets his feet underneath him and Josiah has to reach out and steady him with a hand on his arm but he doesn’t hesitate to obey. There’s a newfound look of contentment in Rafe’s eyes, a gentle glow of peace that reassures Josiah that he’s done the right thing. This is what they’d both needed. He’s managed to show Rafe that punishment and pain aren’t always the horrible scarring things that Frisch had always shown him and in turn Rafe’s obviously grown to trust him on a deeper level.

“Undress me.” His voice is low and husky and he sees the way Rafe’s eyes widen and go dark at the sound of it.

Rafe raises trembling fingers to the top button of Josiah’s shirt; he fumbles for a moment but recovers quickly and makes swift work of working his way down the line of buttons. He looks up and Josiah sees the silent question in his eyes. He nods and Rafe’s hands slip under the fabric of his now open shirt, fingers trailing over the skin of Josiah’s shoulders as he slowly draws the silky material down his arms and off. Rafe gathers the shirt before it can hit the ground and to Josiah’s pleasure folds it neatly and places it beside his previously removed sleep pants on top of the dresser.