Make Me Soar (24 page)

Dorian joined him and looked to where Alan was pointing. There were a couple of shelves full of books all written by the same author, Lauren Peters. He picked out a book and scanned the back cover. It was a gay romance about a police officer investigating a murder who falls for the chief suspect. He gazed at Alan, bewildered.

Alan smiled. “I’m Lauren Peters.”

Dorian gaped. “No kidding. Really?” Then he grinned. “Gay romance, eh?” He could imagine why Alan hadn’t spread this around the club. “Why do you write under a female pseudonym? I’d have thought you’d want your readers to know you’re gay.”

Alan chuckled. “Ah, but most of my readers are female. And I didn’t want to write under my real name. Just think about how some of my fellow Doms would react if they knew what I did for a living.”

Dorian had to smile at that. “Yeah, you have a point. So what was the call about, if you can tell me?”

Alan went over to the couch and sat down, Dorian following him. “That was the CEO of my publishers. The male-male genre is an exploding market for them, and they’ve organized their first ever writers workshop for their gay fiction authors. It’ll be in London at the end of February, and I’m going to attend it. Well, it seems one of their authors who was going to speak has pulled out, and they want me to deliver a presentation.”

“Wow. What do they want you to talk about?” Dorian could understand why Alan was flattered.

“Marketing, establishing a brand for yourself.” He shook his head. “A large part of my time is taken up with promotion on my website and via social media. It’s a necessary evil, unfortunately. My publishers promote my books, but I have to do my bit too.” He stared at the fire. “I don’t attend conventions for obvious reasons, but this will be just authors. And I don’t imagine I’m the only one who writes under a pseudonym of a different gender.”

“They must think you’re good at it for them to ask you in the first place,” Dorian suggested. “So do you think you’ll do it?”

Alan grinned. “Thinking about it. It was always going to be fun, especially since it will be the first time ‘Lauren’ makes a public appearance.”

Dorian laughed, and Alan regarded him quizzically.

“What’s funny?”

Dorian snorted. “I was just imagining you in drag.”

Alan arched his eyebrows. “Just for that, I’m going to put you to work.”

Dorian stared at him, and he chuckled.

“Nothing too onerous, and I could use your help. I have edits to do, but I’ve just finished my latest novel, and I need to go through it before I submit it. How d’you fancy being my proofreader?”

Dorian was intrigued. “What would I have to do?”

“Read through the manuscript slowly and carefully, checking for typos and grammatical mistakes.” He smiled. “I pride myself on sending in as clean a submission as I can, but I do make mistakes, so I always do a last read-through.” He cocked his head to one side. “Think you can manage that?”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian replied confidently. It sounded like something he’d enjoy.

Alan beamed. “Great. I’ll fetch my other laptop and load the book onto it. I’ll show you how to make sure I can see your changes.” He peered intently at Dorian. “The easiest trap to fall into when proofreading is to become so lost in the story that you don’t spot the mistakes. You’ll need to concentrate.”

“I can do that.” Dorian squared his shoulders and met Alan’s gaze head on. “And I have a laptop with me. I can work on that.”

Alan nodded in approval. “I’m sure you’ll do a good job. And if you enjoy it, I might ask you to beta read my work in progress for me.” When Dorian frowned, he continued. “You’d read through it, looking for plot holes, inconsistencies, anything I’ve missed. I have a few beta readers, but it never hurts to have another pair of eyes going through it.”

Dorian couldn’t wait. “When do I start?”

Alan planted a quick kiss on his mouth. “Eagerness. I like that.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll just go and bring you a copy of the book on a USB drive.” He exited the lounge.

Dorian brought a finger to his lips. He was growing accustomed to Alan kissing him. If anything, he looked forward to the feel of those lips on his.

He sat back against the cushions. One week since Alan had appeared in that hotel room, and already Dorian couldn’t believe how his life had changed, and for the better. Yes, everything was happening fast, and yet again it seemed to Dorian that he was being swept along by a relentless tide, but he couldn’t deny how good it felt. The pace was… right somehow. One thing was certain. He grew more and more confident that Alan was steering him in the right direction.

He couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

W
EDNESDAY
WAS
a bright but frosty day. Dorian peered out through the lounge blinds at the front path, now devoid of snow. Alan had spent a couple of hours the previous day with a shovel, clearing the snow so they could reach the front gate. Dorian had been clearing snow from the car. Alan’s thick gloves had been invaluable, though Dorian’s hand had ached by the time they’d finished. Only a few more days and the stitches could be removed. Dorian was slowly becoming accustomed to doing things with his left hand, but the experience hadn’t been without its frustrations. It was definitely a right-handed world.

Beyond the front gate the street was a sludgy mess of dirty snow that would be dangerous if the temperatures plummeted any further and it turned to ice. They’d ventured out to the local shop for essential supplies of milk and bread, both of them dressed in Wellingtons, heavy jackets, and woolly hats, armor against the cold. It had been a relief to get back into the house and warm up in front of the fire.

Dorian’s proofreading was progressing slowly. Alan had been correct when he’d spoken of delivering a clean manuscript, but Dorian had already spotted the odd spelling mistake here and there, as well as missing punctuation marks. Alan checked up on him now and again, but it was clear how pleased he was with Dorian’s efforts. As for the book, Dorian found it difficult to keep his task in mind. The plot was engrossing, and he’d quickly fallen in love with the main characters, Neil and Dan. He found himself yelling at the laptop screen when one of them did something surprising or downright stupid, which amused Alan to no end. Dorian loved his writing style. It pulled him in and kept him hooked. Alan had had to call him several times to come to dinner, he’d been so engrossed.

So what with clearing snow, shopping, and proofreading, the last few days had felt busy. There was still the matter of adjusting to life with a cock cage, however, but Dorian was proud of the way he was managing to ignore it most of the time. He was acutely aware of its presence when reading the scene where Neil and Dan exchanged their first kiss. His dick had begun to fill, and he’d winced to feel it pressing against the steel hoops that encircled it. Bedtime was a relief, but mornings were sheer hell, especially when he awoke with his cock hard as granite. The urge to palm his dick was enormous, but he lay there, hands deliberately kept clear of his morning wood. Once Alan awoke, the cage went back on and the cycle would begin all over again.

Dorian glanced at his phone, lying on the bookshelf. Justin hadn’t called yet. He’d been on Dorian’s mind ever since that phone call at the weekend. Dorian knew how nervous
he
got before a test, even though the chances of a positive result were next to impossible. He couldn’t imagine how Justin was feeling right then. It had to be driving him crazy with worry.

“I think it’s high time we shared another scene, don’t you?” Alan had done his ninja impression again. Dorian had lost count of the number of times Alan had snuck up on him, only becoming aware of his presence when his hand appeared at Dorian’s back. At least this time he’d spoken first. There was that hand again, gentle against his arm.

Dorian caught his breath, his thoughts a mix of trepidation and exhilaration. He cleared his throat before speaking, proud that his voice sounded steadier than he was feeling. “Sounds like a good idea.” He straightened, hands falling by his sides. “What did you have in mind, Sir?”

Alan smiled. “Upstairs, please. Undress and then get yourself ready. In my bedroom when you’re done. Oh, and take off the cock cage.” He walked out of the room, leaving Dorian to stare after him.

Oh hell
. Dorian knew what getting himself ready meant—penetration of some kind was on the menu. The thought sent a shiver running through him. He bounded up the stairs, went into his room, and swiftly removed his clothing. All the while he was in the bathroom, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing.
What’s Alan going to do?
He was tingling all over, his heart pounding. With trembling fingers he unsnapped the cock cage, washed it as usual, and left it in his room.

By the time Alan pushed open his bedroom door, Dorian was kneeling by the bed, naked but for his collar, arse cheeks resting on his heels, hands flat to his thighs, looking straight ahead. His dick was hard, pointing skyward. The anticipation of doing a scene made it next to impossible to stay soft.

“Good boy.”

Alan’s words of praise warmed him. He almost hummed with satisfaction when Alan stroked his hair softly. Dorian watched him lay a large rubber play sheet on top of the bed and then tuck it under the mattress, pulling it taut. Alan moved to the ottoman at the foot of the bed and lifted its lid. Dorian strained to take a peek at its contents, and Alan caught him and grinned.

“Come and take a look, then. I know you’re dying to.”

Dorian scrambled to his feet and hurried to Alan’s side, peering into the wide wooden chest. His hole clenched at the sight: several dildos and vibrators of varied length and girth, Wartenberg wheels, long, spiky feathers, a violet wand, candles, banjo picks and mitts, both furry and spiky, prostate massagers, floggers, and a couple of paddles.

It was sensory heaven.

“Like what you see?”

Dorian was getting used to that edge of amusement in Alan’s tone. “Yes, Sir.” Then it struck him. In the past, if he’d seen any of these implements laid out at the beginning of a scene, the first emotion he’d have experienced would have been disappointment, but now? There was a fluttery feeling deep in his belly, and his breathing quickened.

Dorian couldn’t wait to get started.

“On your back in the middle of the bed, please, legs spread, hands toward the headboard.”

Dorian climbed onto the high bed and stretched out on his back, lying as instructed. He stared when Alan reached into the depths of the ottoman and withdrew a set of straps, at the end of which were attached cuffs. He proceeded to fasten them around Dorian’s ankles and wrists and then attach the straps to the bedposts. Dorian was spread-eagled, with enough give in the ankle straps so that he could bend his legs. He focused on Alan, his pulse racing, desperately hard at the thought of what was coming.

Alan stood next to the bed, eyeing his rigid cock, his eyebrows arched. He raised his gaze to focus on Dorian’s, and it was then he noted the glint in Alan’s eyes.
Oh, fuck
.

“Just so you’re prepared, I’m going to push you today. You know what I expect of you.”

“Yes, Sir.” Dorian breathed deeply in an effort to calm himself.

“Safewords? Not that you’ll need them.” That wicked grin flashed again. “But you never know.”

“Thunder to stop, and Lightning to slow down.” Dorian’s heart was still beating fast.

“Good.” Alan’s eyes gleamed. “Your focus for this scene is not to come.” He stretched out his hand and rubbed firmly over Dorian’s belly before moving lower to caress his dick, slowly stroking it.

Oh, holy hell
. Dorian pushed down hard on the brief flare of panic that set his heart pounding just that little bit faster.
I can do this
.
I didn’t come last time, did I? I mean, how bad can it get?

Alan reached once more into the ottoman and brought out a curved object in black silicone, along with a small rectangular shape, obviously a remote control. Dorian gazed at the prostate massager in dismay. Alan hadn’t been kidding when he’d spoken of pushing him. Dorian had watched Pietro once when Miles had used one of those during a scene. Pietro had leaked copious amounts of precome the whole time, and his orgasm had been explosive, to say the least.

This was going to be nothing short of torture.

Alan flipped open the bottle of lube and slicked up the massager. He put the bottle to one side and got up onto the bed next to Dorian, kneeling at his side. “Knees bent, as wide as you can.”

Dorian obeyed and caught his breath at that first touch of Alan’s finger, cool and slick against his anus. Alan slowly pushed it into him, his gaze trained on Dorian’s face.

“That feel okay?” His expression was watchful.

Dorian nodded. Then he remembered his protocols. “Yes, Sir.” That finger felt so thick inside him. He closed his eyes briefly and swallowed, fighting the feelings of arousal that grew with each slow stroke in and out of him.

Don’t think about what Alan is doing.
Don’t even
think
about coming
.