“Fuck,” he grunted, the sound low and hoarse against Triton’s skin as he spiraled out of control.
Slamming home, his orgasm raced up his spine, fisted into his balls, and then he shuddered, filling the condom like he wanted to fill the boy’s body.
“Diesel!” Triton cried out and then shattered.
Diesel crooned to the boy as he cried, his hands soothing raw nerves until ragged breathing became normal and Triton lay sated in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” Triton whispered.
Diesel cupped beneath Triton’s chin and lifted the boy’s gaze to his.
“What for?”
“I keep crying.” Teeth worried a plump lip.
“You never need to apologize for that, baby boy. Never.”
He tenderly kissed Triton’s mouth and kissed away the tears that had slipped down one cheek.
Triton
Zane’s place was like living in a fairytale.
I love Diesel.
They’d done everything from cooking to watching movies, to talking, to making love. I love Diesel. The hopping back and forth of his brain was making him crazy. He wanted to shout it out loud.
He unlatched the handle to the woodshed and stepped inside. Molly ran inside, sniffing around.
“Don’t get too comfortable in here,” he told the dog.
Molly wagged her tail.
Triton lifted several pieces of wood, latched the door, and trudged back to the house. Entering the front room, he found Diesel’s eyes following him.
He placed the wood in the holder and brushed off his hands over the lowly lit flames.
“Didn’t want to run out. I think this is my favorite thing.”
“Favorite?” Diesel eyed him with a smirk.
A giggle bubbled up and out of him, and he dropped onto the couch and lifted the book he’d been reading.
I love him.
Sure, that was a strong statement, but then so was love, and he’d fallen hard.
He darted a glance at Diesel kicking back on the end of the couch with a book in his lap. Every time Diesel looked at him, his heart jumped. He wanted to please him. He wanted to fill all the Dom’s needs, but would Diesel let him?
Miles had said others thought Diesel was overbearing or high-handed. Triton actually loved it. He’d been able to stop automatically lying and concentrate on being truthful.
In the beginning, Diesel gave him the courage and support he had needed to feel confident. Now, it was more than that, he was just beginning to know who he was. And he liked what he was beginning to see.
“Can we talk about BDSM and the scene?” He lowered the book he held and watched Diesel’s reaction.
Diesel glanced up in surprise and then shut his book.
“Of course.”
Triton took a deep breath. “You’ve had a sub, that Shawn guy?”
“Yes, but we didn’t do it twenty four seven.”
“How did it work?” Triton bit his lip.
“It didn’t.”
He grew quiet. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Diesel sighed and laid his book aside.
“It didn’t work because I couldn’t give Shawn what he needed. I wasn’t what he needed, and he was too young to know his own mind.”
“What did he need?” He ignored the too young comment because it irritated him when Diesel started talking about age, like the guy was ancient or something.
“Shawn was hard core into pain. I’m not.”
Then he doubted the guy would be satisfied with Diesel’s stepsister if she wasn’t a Dom, but he kept that to himself.
“What are you into?” he asked instead.
“I’m into having control and taking care of someone. I like making the decisions and being obeyed.”
“So, not the whole collar and scene thing?”
“I like the collar, and I’ll go to the parties to mingle, but I’m not into the scenes.”
Triton didn’t know whether to shout or jump up and do a dance of joy, so he just stayed still after pulling his knees to his chest.
“I went once,” he said, gaging Diesel’s response.
“Tell me,” Diesel said, looking nothing but curious. No anger, no judgement.
“Fraser took me to a party. He goes all the time. He said I could find a man there.” Triton shivered.
“And did you?”
“No. They weren’t what I wanted,” he said, gazing at Diesel.
The soldier smirked and nodded. “At least you went. Now you know.”
“True. I mean, I saw some people there, some were getting flogged, and another one was locked naked in a cage.”
“And you didn’t like that?”
“No. Clay found out I went.”
Diesel grew still when he grew quiet.
“Finish it.”
“Clay said if I went to a BDSM club, then I must want to get beat.” His hands twisted. Diesel blurred before his eyes.
“Clay is a fool and a coward.”
Triton gave a wobbling smile.
“Forget about him. Tell me what else you saw at the club.”
“I did see something that I thought I might like.” Triton chewed on his lip.
“What?”
“I wanted to have what some of the subs had when they were kneeling at their Dom’s feet wearing a collar.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Excited.”
Diesel smiled. “Come here, boy.”
Triton rose to his feet and floated toward Diesel until he reached his legs.
Diesel drew him down to sit on the edge of the couch.
“Would you like me to teach you how to kneel at my feet?”
Triton gasped, wet his lips with his tongue, and nodded. “Yes!”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir.” The term Miles had used with Ted rolled off his tongue and he liked it, liked it a lot. So did Diesel by the look of pleasure on the Dom’s face.
“Then kneel.”
Triton sank to the floor almost on top of Diesel’s bare feet.
His heartbeat settled after the first rush of adrenaline. Diesel arranged him for a few moments.
A large hand cupped the back of his head and drew his cheek to rest against the man’s knee. Diesel made him feel safe, wanted, and complete in a way he’d never experienced before.
After a while, he became calmer and more content then he could ever remember being. He drifted, going into his head and floating, dreaming about their time together.
It was in that moment when everything fell into place. He’d found the love of his life. Diesel would be the only man he’d love forever.
“Up, boy. It’s time for a shower and then dinner,” Diesel murmured.
Triton blinked, noticing the sun had slanted at a different angle through the curtain. His legs felt a bit unsteady when he rose to stand. This kneeling took some getting used to. Diesel’s strong arm settled around his waist, and then he found himself lifted against the man’s chest, one arm around his waist and another beneath his knees.
Triton slipped his arms around Diesel’s neck.
“Next time, we’ll use a pillow from the couch on the floor for you to sit on.”
“Don’t you mean kneel?”
“Perhaps. There’s no shame in sitting at my feet. Kneeling or sitting accomplishes the same thing,” Diesel’s deep voice rumbled.