Chapter 8

They stumbled over the threshold, Brody barely letting go of him between heated kisses. He clicked the door shut behind him, sealing them off from the outside world.

Josiah's heart raced, and he parted his lips to welcome another kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through him. Brody's mouth was insistent, tasting of the red wine they'd shared, intoxicating and bold. Josiah melted into the kiss, lifting his hand to tangle in Brody's hair, the texture gruff against his fingers. Their breaths mingled.

"You're so beautiful," Brody whispered. "So goddamn pretty."

Josiah felt beautiful, which was a miracle because he'd felt like utter crap the day before. How quickly things had changed.

"Strip for me, baby boy," Brody ordered. "Let me see all of you."

The command was firm, steel wrapped in velvet, compelling and irresistible.

A shiver ran down Josiah's spine, a mix of excitement and nervousness churning in his belly. With shaking fingers, he grasped the hem of his shirt, lifted it over his head, and let it fall to the ground, forgotten. His skin prickled with vulnerability and desire under Brody's watchful eye.

Strands of hair fell into his eyes as he popped open the button of his jeans and slid the zipper down with a hiss. He pushed the denim over his hips and let it pool around his feet, then stepped out of them with an eagerness that bordered on desperation. His briefs followed quickly.

Oh, wait. Brody wanted him to fold his clothes, and so Josiah did, neatly stacking them.

Then he stood, bared to Brody's gaze, the cool air caressing his skin, making him acutely aware of every touch, every look. It was as if Brody's eyes were leaving fire trails wherever they roamed, igniting a wanton need within Josiah that throbbed for attention.

"Good boy," Brody murmured, and those two words of praise set Josiah alight, craving more of Brody's control, more of that firm voice guiding him into surrender. He felt seen, not just as the flirty, outgoing persona he presented to the world but also as the man with an intricate tapestry of desires and insecurities lying beneath.

"Undress me, baby boy."

Josiah's hands were much steadier now that he got to touch Brody. One by one, he popped open the buttons of his dress shirt. Who knew those formal shirts could be so sexy? Maybe not on most men, but they certainly were on Brody. When his chest hair was revealed, Josiah let out a happy sigh. He ran his hands through it, loving the silkiness.

"Did I say you could touch me like that?" Brody asked, but his eyes were laughing.

Oops. "No, Sir."

He returned to the job Brody had given him, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it down his arms. He hadn't seen Brody naked. Funny, but Josiah hadn't realized that till now. During their scene with the anal beads, Brody had still been wearing his leather pants. The sight of Brody's exposed skin—slightly soft around the middle but radiating strength—sent a jolt of raw desire through Josiah.

Brody stepped out of his pants, showing the power in his thighs, the way his frame commanded space. Each scar and line told a story, a history etched into flesh Josiah yearned to read with lips and tongue.

Brody hadn't been lying about his size. His hard cock was perfectly outlined in his tight black underwear: big and thick. Josiah's mouth watered. He carefully dragged down the thin fabric, and Brody's cock slapped against his stomach with a satisfying thwack.

Josiah reached out but then thought better of it. "May I touch you, Sir?"

"Good boy," Brody praised him.

Jesus, would those words ever stop having such power over him? Would he ever not feel like a fire had been lit inside him when he heard them?

"And yes, you may."

Josiah went straight for the main prize. He'd explore the rest of Brody's body another time, but now he wanted to feel that cock. It didn't quite rival the biggest bead he'd taken, but it came close—and there was a lot more of it. Taking Brody would be a challenge, but he was all too eager to start.

He sank to his knees and wrapped both hands around Brody's cock, looking up at him through his lashes. They held eye contact as he brought the tip to his mouth and suckled. The intensity in Brody's eyes turned Josiah's insides molten, and he became even more desperate to please Brody. He sucked him in and increased the pressure while using his hands to jack him off.

"Mmm, that feels so good, baby boy… like that. Can you take me deeper?"

Josiah would never be able to take all of him—he wasn't particularly gifted at oral, though he did enjoy it—but he'd damn well try.

"Like that. You're doing so good for me, baby boy." Brody gently pushed him back. "That's enough for now. I don't want to come too quickly."

He held out a hand, and Josiah pulled himself up. With a tender gesture, Brody swiped the drool off Josiah's chin. "You're very pretty on your knees."

"Thank you, Sir."

"It's my turn now. Get on the bed."

"Your turn for what, Sir?"

All Brody had to do was quirk an eyebrow, and Josiah hastened to obey him.

"My turn to explore your body. I'm intimately familiar with your ass after our scene together—I've jerked off to that memory almost every day since, by the way—but I'm eager to discover all your sensitive spots."

Josiah stretched out on the bed, and Brody took position next to him. "Be still."

He kissed him again, a dominant, claiming kiss. Josiah's head spun with the need for more, but he fought to stay as motionless as possible, which wasn't easy. Brody's lips found the inside of his wrist, sucking gently at the pulse point. How could something so seemingly innocent feel so good?

The real exploration began as Brody traced the contours of Josiah's figure like an artist shaping his masterpiece. He touched first with his hands, sometimes featherlight, sometimes pinching or scratching. Lips followed, pressing against the hollow of Josiah's throat, his collarbone, drawing a gasp that fluttered into the charged air. His tongue traced paths on Josiah's heated skin, teasing his belly button and venturing lower.

"Stay still," Brody murmured, nuzzling the sensitive skin on the inside of Josiah's thigh. Shivers rolled down his spine. But staying still felt like holding back the tide, impossible when every caress drove his need higher.

"If you don't stay still, I'll have to start over."

Start over? Jesus, help him.

"Please," Josiah whispered, not hiding his desperation as Brody's mouth trailed lower, mapping the planes of his abdomen, then descending farther, teasing the lines of his hips again. Each kiss was a starburst, each nibble a lightning strike across his sensitized flesh.

"Quiet," Brody said, but the command held warmth, a tenderness underneath the steel. The duality of Brody—the caring man and the demanding Dom—ensnared Josiah completely, binding him not with ropes but with the invisible threads of trust and desire.

Brody's lips hovered over Josiah's straining cock, a whisper away from inciting another moan, when a devilish glint sparked in his eyes. "You keep squirming like that, and I might have to spank you."

Josiah, caught between a gasp and a giggle, arched an eyebrow playfully. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

His hitched breath betrayed the flicker of excitement at the notion. He wanted to feel Brody's hands on his skin. He wanted to see his handprints, his marks on himself.

"Careful, or I'll make good on it," Brody said, though his eyes told a different story.

"Promises, promises." Josiah grinned, daring Brody to escalate their game.

But the playfulness faded as quickly as it had appeared, the atmosphere thickening with desire once more. Brody's attention shifted, his demeanor turning earnest as he leaned down. His warm breath brushed against Josiah's cock before his mouth finally enveloped him, drawing a long, tortured groan from deep within Josiah's chest.

Josiah threaded his fingers through Brody's hair, anchoring himself as pleasure threatened to send him spinning into the void. He arched into his touch, unable to stay still. Brody worked with a precision that spoke of vast experience, his tongue tracing patterns that made Josiah's toes curl into the sheets.

"Mmm, you taste good." Brody let go of him. "Can I fuck you, baby boy? Is that okay?"

Josiah, floating on cloud nine, waved his hand vaguely. "You can do whatever you like, Sir."

"That's a dangerous thing to say to a Dom, baby boy."

Josiah shrugged. "I'm saying it to you. You're not just a Dom."

"No, I'm not."

"Lube's in the drawer."

"Condoms?"

"I'm on PrEP and negative. Tested after we…"

Brody kissed him softly. "Good boy. Same for me. I'll enjoy taking you bare, baby boy. Seeing my load drip out of you."

Brody prepped him methodically, and Josiah's body cooperated until he was squirming with need. "I'm ready, Sir."

"Is that for you to decide?"

He shrunk a little. "No, Sir."

"Then let me make sure I won't hurt you."

Finally, Brody was satisfied as well and coated his cock in some extra lube. "Stay on your back. I want to see those beautiful baby blues as I fuck you senseless."

Fuck, that was so hot. "Yes, Sir."

Brody had to put some force behind it to push the tip in, and a little whimper flew from Josiah's lips. Maybe Brody had been right, taking some extra time to prepare him. The man was thick, and Josiah had to work for it, willing himself to relax. But inch by inch, he took him inside while Brody helped with shallow thrusts and went a little deeper every time.

"Good boy. Such a good boy for taking my cock so well. What a pretty sight, that tight little asshole of yours stretching around me. I could fuck you for hours and not grow tired of watching."

Hours? That was an exaggeration, right? An expression? Josiah was afraid to ask.

When Brody was all the way inside him, Josiah let out a shivering breath.

"You good, baby boy?"

"Yes, Sir. Feels good."

Brody curled his hand, firm and commanding, around Josiah's neck and pressed his thumb beneath his ear. "You won't come until I say."

"But, Sir, I—" Josiah's protest faltered as he met the unwavering gaze of the man who held him in thrall.

"Quiet." Brody's tone sharpened. "No coming. Not until I give you permission."

Josiah bit his lip, warmth creeping across his cheeks as submission washed over him like a wave crashing upon the shore. He nodded, even as the challenge sparked a fire in his belly. He would obey. He craved to follow the rules set by this man whose very presence offered him safety.

"Good boy. Now hold on ‘cause I won't be gentle."

He started slow, filling Josiah with careful, measured strokes, creating tingles throughout his entire body, but then he sped up, went harder, deeper, snapping his hips and grunting. If he continued this, Josiah wouldn't be able to hold off for long.

But he had to.

The world spun around Josiah, the edges blurring into insignificance as Brody's thrusts became an unrelenting force of nature. Each movement was a testament to Brody's control—a firm, demanding rhythm that pushed Josiah to the brink of his endurance. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in the small bedroom, a carnal beat that resonated with Josiah's pounding heart.

"Please, Sir." He gasped, the words torn from him by a tide of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. He bucked upward, seeking more, yet desperate to obey the command that held him on this exquisite edge.

"Not yet." Brody gripped Josiah's hips, guiding him, holding him down.

Josiah moaned, eyes screwed shut as he tried to steady his breathing, to calm the storm Brody had conjured within him. But it was no use. He was adrift in a sea of sensation, each wave crashing over him harder than the last, threatening to pull him under.

"I'm so close…"

"Shh, not yet," Brody murmured, pulling back just enough to leave Josiah teetering.

He wanted to argue, to beg for the release that dangled before him like a promised gift just out of reach, but Brody's tone left no room for negotiation.

"Sir, I can't?—"

"You can," Brody assured him, his voice a grounding presence amid the turmoil. "You will."

Every cell of Josiah's body sang with the need for release, for the crescendo of pleasure he knew Brody could give him. He held back, clinging to the precipice because Brody had not yet given the word. He wouldn't disobey him again. Not because he was scared of a spanking. On the contrary. But because he didn't want to disappoint him. Because he wanted to hear those precious words from Brody's lips again and again and again. Good boy.

The waiting, the needing, was excruciating and exquisite all at once. Josiah's body was alight with sensations, every touch from Brody stoking the fires within him. But as much as he craved completion, a part of him thrived under the strict guidance, the push and pull of pleasure and denial. They performed this dance together, and even as frustration clawed at him, he couldn't deny the thrill that came with it.

His world narrowed to the space where their bodies met, to the relentless chase for that high just beyond his reach.

Something shifted, a change in Brody's cadence that signaled his impending release. His rhythm became rapid, erratic, almost frantic. Josiah clung to him like holding a lifeline amid the storm.

Brody threw his head back and, with a mighty grunt, came. His load filled Josiah as he continued to fuck him, slower but still so deep, until every thrust squelched obscenely.

Brody leaned down, brushing his lips against Josiah's ear, his breath hot and heavy. "You were perfect, baby boy. Such a good boy."

"Please, Sir." The words fell from Josiah's lips like a prayer to a saint specializing in sweet torment. The frustration of denied release gnawed at him, leaving him desperate for permission to tip over the edge.

"Now, Josiah. Come for me."

Brody wrapped his right hand around Josiah's cock, and that was all it took. Josiah's world shattered into a million vibrant shards as his climax ripped through him with the intensity of an Alaskan winter storm—wild, untamable, freeing. His body trembled uncontrollably, waves of ecstasy rolling over him as he cried out Brody's name.

As the aftershocks rippled through him, Josiah lay beneath Brody, spent and sated. The strength of his release left him vulnerable, open in ways he'd never been. But his surrender brought peace, a tranquility that seeped into his bones, whispering to him of trust and the beauty of submitting to this man.

But did Brody feel the same?