Book 2, Chapter 10: Acquiescence (5/8)
Title: Acquiescence (5)
Authors: kiltsandlollies and escribo
Characters: Dominic/Billy
Word count: 3128
Summary: Continues from here.
Warnings: D/s
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
Billy's grip on the crop tightens as he steps back to watch Dominic settle into the position demanded. The matchstrikes on Dominic's back are rusty, visible even in the relative darkness of the bedroom. What light there is from the candles makes the rest of Dominic's skin glow orange and yellow-trapped fire, Billy thinks as he moves again to Dominic's side; another guttering flame fighting to burn as bright as possible.
Dominic's arms are stretched long, held tight by the cuffs and hook, and his feet shoulder width apart, forcing his knees to bend slightly to keep his balance. Resting his head on his forearms, Dominic sets his back in a straight line tapering to his waist and slight flare of his hips. Sweat makes his skin damp to the touch and his hair stick up from where Billy's fingers have mussed the careful non-style Dominic had started out with when he left his room.
The room is quiet except for the sounds Billy makes as he moves around; Dominic cannot even hear the usual soft ticking of Billy's bedside clock and wonders if it's been banished along with the ancient rug and the perpetual piles of laundry. Unlike in his past experience in this position, there is no music to deafen his senses, and he finds the silence vastly more pleasurable. It's soothing, in its own way, and though the angle of his body may be awkward, Dominic finds he can relax into it-that he's comfortable, even-leaving him to experience the more uncomfortable pleasure of waiting for what comes next.
"Keep your chin up," Billy says behind him. “Your eyes as well.” Billy waits barely a second before delivering his first blow, a hard tap just inside the marks at the small of Dominic's back. "I’ve seen you move faster for less, Dominic; don’t pretend you can't."
Still too near Dominic to do much damage, Billy spiderwalks his fingers up and down Dominic's spine, pausing to rest the palm of his free hand flat at the curve of Dominic's ass to caress the skin there, gathering the sweat on his fingers. Billy watches the corded muscles of Dominic's neck and shoulders tighten, and he allows Dominic to see his smile before he moves again, one hand trailing the crop up Dominic's thighs to brush against Dominic's balls and lift his cock, the leather growing slick with sweat and pre-come.
Billy hums to himself again, his free hand traveling, fingers deep now in the cleft of Dominic's ass, just teasing for the moment. He’s not even opened the bottle of lube he's left waiting on the dresser, needing to keep a proper grip on the crop now more than to slide his fingers well inside Dominic. Dominic's holding himself back, keeping himself from pushing and arching into Billy's touch, and Billy's thrilled at the control on view here and can't wait to see more of it. Can't wait to break it in pieces large and small.
He stops his hand's movement just as one fingertip barely pushes past the resistance at Dominic's opening, and with his right hand Billy turns the crop underneath Dominic's cock, drawing it slowly down the full, thick vein and then sliding it away quickly, the sound of leather on damp skin making Billy's breath catch at the same time as Dominic's.
"Better," Billy murmurs, his mouth very close to Dominic's ear. He can see the trail of sweat that falls from Dominic's hair down the side of his neck, and it takes a strength Billy's surprised he has not to race his tongue across it-to taste Dominic’s skin while he pushes his fingers however harshly inside Dominic's body. He takes a deep breath and moves until he's entirely behind Dominic while he speaks.
"You’ll take four now,” Billy says. "Then I'm going to open you up again and bring you close and keep you there, and then six more. And you're not to come, or we're finished here, do you understand? You'll crawl yourself home, assuming you still can."
Another breath, and Billy takes a few steps in retreat, weighing the crop one last time before landing his first real blow high on Dominic's back. The second and third follow, lower but still within the confines of the marks Billy made earlier with those long, perfect matches. The candlelight in the room flickers with the shifts in the air, like little lightning streaks across the smooth plane of Dominic's back. The fourth blow lands significantly harder than the others, almost losing Dominic his balance, and he gasps with it, his body falling forward just a bit before he regains himself and pushes back.
The silence in the room is cut only by Dominic’s ragged breaths and Billy’s own, slower inhalations. Billy’s content to offer them both this pause-he wants Dominic to register the blows he’s already taken, to think on each one of them and recognize that there’s more to come-and he takes the moment himself to tuck the crop under his arm again, stepping back to the dresser for the lube and spreading it thinly on the fingers of his left hand. He has no intention of letting Dominic relax entirely, and so as soon as he’s satisfied again, he's behind Dominic once more, two fingers shoving roughly inside him with no warning, no further preliminaries.
The mix of first pain then pleasure almost prematurely breaks Dominic’s control, and Billy can feel him fighting to get it back, his desire to prove his strength stronger than any other at the moment. Billy’s eyes travel down Dominic’s body as he works, and Billy can’t hide the pleasure in what he sees, the feeling translating itself into the motions of his hand. He’s only landed four blows of the eventual ten, Billy knows, but the raised, reddened lines across Dominic's back are strikingly beautiful, and Billy’s thrilled by them and by his own control-his own ability to keep the marks inside the boundaries he created earlier. "Well done, Dominic," he says, pressing hard, twisting, listening for Dominic's breathing to change again. "Well done."
The minor praise drags a shattered exhale from Dominic, but he can’t speak. His cock aches and his back stings, and he focuses on the pain to force all other distractions from his mind. He suffers only for a moment before he fills his lungs then pushes the air out again through clenched teeth. He’s never felt this satisfied by this kind of scene, and it’s nowhere near finished. He’d expected Billy to know how to twist and turn him, how to make him beg, but he hadn’t expected to be sussed out this well, to be read like the simplest book and have himself read back in more complicated words. Somewhere in the recesses of Dominic’s mind, he’s impressed and grateful, but those are emotions he’ll replay and express some other time; for now he can’t do more than count backwards silently from ten-nine, eight, seven-until his body and mind balance-five, four, three-and he can again focus only on Billy. Two and one. Now he can move past the ache and the sting and enjoy the twist and curl of Billy’s fingers inside his body.
Billy watches and listens, wondering if Dominic's thoughts stay grounded in present reality or if he's somewhere else entirely. He almost regrets not having Dominic count, because he wants very much to hear Dominic do more than gasp. That notion reminds Billy that it has been a long time since he's done anything like this, and the thought crosses his mind that he's going to push too far at some point, or say something that will break this strange spell in the room. Already he recognizes that he should not have said anything about Barchi's drawings or his own reaction to them, but that’s the only regret Billy has had yet this night. He would still stand by what he said, but the reminder of his reaction to the pictures of Dominic bound just for show is almost too much.
The memory of that reaction now makes his fingers twist harder inside Dominic, further and better, and Billy thrills to it when Dominic rises up on the balls of his feet a little, both an encouragement to Billy and an attempt to escape the burn and press. Still, this sort of thing-Dominic controlling anything about this moment-is not on the cards, and Billy's hand lands firmly on Dominic's shoulder, pushing him back down. Dominic gasps again, and Billy swats the crop between Dominic's legs, against his inner thigh and just brushing below Dominic's balls. Another gasp, and this time Billy raises one eyebrow, pleased and amused in an abstract way. Rather than ask what Dominic could possibly be thinking, he smacks the crop again, lower but harder, and nods slowly when Dominic's legs open wider for him. The new posture bows Dominic's back a little, and Billy's eyes follow a bead of sweat down Dominic's shoulders to the small of his back, entranced. Billy presses the flat of the crop and his hand to Dominic's shoulder blade, forcing him forward and lower still, and then he moves a third finger inside Dominic, almost surprised at the still slight resistance he finds. He moves very close to Dominic now, and the heat of their bodies is intense. Billy turns his wrist as he speaks, feeling Dominic's legs begin to shake again.
"On your toes now and stay there," Billy hisses, more than a little breathless. "Keep your chin up." Dominic complies, shaking the sweat from his hair, and Billy steps away again from him, taking a moment to slide his hand down Dominic's back, his fingers trailing as before to the sweaty rise of the curve of Dominic’s ass. Billy would love to keep his hand where it is, to caress Dominic's reddened flesh and soothe it somewhat, but that time will come. His right arm and shoulder throb both with strain and adrenaline, and Billy catalogs every twinge.
The first three blows this time are more rhythmic than the ones before, to allow Dominic to adjust to the feeling again, this time with the added pressure of holding himself taller and better presented. Billy watches the tendons of Dominic's arms and neck flex and relax as he prepares himself for each blow, his hands clenching into strong fists above his head, and a spark of pleasure races up Billy's spine before he lands his second to last blow fiercely, memorizing the sight of Dominic's body reacting, his hands opening wide and tense and the sound of his gasp.
"I said you could speak but you've been silent," Billy murmurs, taking two steps forward, enough so Dominic will register the change in the nearness of his voice. "Tell me how badly you want this."
Nine. And Dominic can feel the sting and glow of each one separately and together, his back burning, both the muscles beneath and the skin stretched hot across. Everything all and together, deliciously. The last will be harder and more perfect than all the other nine together, he knows it and craves it, and when Billy pauses and Dominic has to wait, he fears not being able to ask for it well enough.
"One more, Dominic. One more and I'll let you down and we move on. It’s not over, but we move on. But not till y'tell me." Billy turns the crop over in his hand, weighing it once more. "Not till I hear you beg for it."
"I want-" Dominic begins then stops, knowing want isn't the right word. He doesn't just want it. It isn't like asking for an iPod for Christmas; he needs this. He's shocked by how much he needs it and has to take another breath-another moment-to sort it out, to understand it. His hands open and close again, and he checks his posture, rubs the sweat from his eyes on his arms as best he can. When he begins again, he's more shocked now that he has voice enough left at all to tell Billy what he wants to say. "Please. I need this. I need the last."
Silence again and Dominic has to wonder if it was his own voice that he heard speak by how tight and low it sounded. It's almost as if he hadn't spoken at all, and no blow comes. The prickling at the back of his eyes surprises him. It's not a reaction he's ever had with anyone else. Patience has never been Dominic's strong suit, and the pleading note in his voice is nearly tempered by the desire to demand, but he’s aware that he’s in no position to do so. He knows he'd be on his knees right now, if not for the restraints.
"I want this for you, Billy. I want to please you with this. Please," Dominic says. He lifts his chin again, his legs straight as he balances on the balls of his feet, his back arching while his arms are stretched, held tight by the cuffs and the hook. He banishes any sense of his personal desire, willingly and willfully sublimating himself to Billy. "Hard, Billy, please. I need to do this for you."
The blow is harder than any of those before, and lands before Dominic finishes his plea. Billy feels the sting reverberate back up through his own arm and watches the vivid mark rise up across the small of Dominic's back, just barely inside the edges of the matchstrikes. Billy releases an excited, fierce exhale, quite certain that it goes mostly unheard beneath the sound that comes from Dominic-gasp or sob, Billy's not sure which. Dominic's holding himself in such deep control that Billy watches in wonder how Dominic's body trembles but doesn't give, how he remains on his toes, his entire body taut and strong.
Billy gives them both the moment to recover, and then he's behind Dominic again, curling his fingers hard against Dominic's hipbone and sliding the flatter edge of the crop up underneath Dominic's cock again, slowly, before moving it back up Dominic's stomach and chest.
"Well done," Billy says, his fingers brushing one of the welts near Dominic's shoulders before he moves to Dominic's side and he turns the crop in his hands slightly until he can tap the edge against Dominic's chin. "Open your mouth, Dominic."
Billy turns the crop again, sliding it gently between Dominic's teeth and nodding for Dominic to bite down. Billy gives Dominic half a smile, more than enough, he thinks, and then cups Dominic's chin, turning Dominic to face him.
"You can make whatever noise y'like, but you might get down and back on your knees faster if you don't. And don’t you fucking come." Billy touches his forehead to Dominic's cheek, and then turns Dominic to face the wall again before his hand brushes against the matchstrikes and the long, vibrant welts on Dominic’s back. Billy closes his eyes and lets his mind wander for a moment, lets his fingers trail along the raised marks before they slide back down to the cleft of Dominic's ass to tease back inside Dominic again.
The slow, methodical rhythm of Billy’s hand almost breaks Dominic's resolve. He wants to push back, to demand more, and it's almost too much to remember to keep his body still, to keep quiet. Dominic bites down on the crop's tress, tasting leather and salt and wondering if it's his own sweat from where Billy had caressed him or Billy's, from his exertions. Concentrating on that scent and taste only helps keep his mind focused on something other than what Billy is doing. The smallest move he makes is being judged, he can feel it, and he wants to please Billy with this as much as everything else.
"Stay with me, Dominic," Billy says, keeping his words low and under his breath. "You have to know that however long it takes, it’ll be worth it." Billy's said such things before, and even in this context, but has rarely believed it so completely as he does now, appraising the flex in Dominic's calves as he rises again on his toes. It's a breathtaking sight when combined with everything else filling Billy's vision, and it's enough to make him reach again for Dominic's chin, turning it harshly this time to face him.
For a moment Dominic can see the flicker of need in Billy’s eyes, and for less than that moment he wonders if Billy’s going to kiss him, if this is meant to calm them both. Whatever else they've done or will do tonight, it means little unless they've achieved the kind of connection Dominic wants, and thinks that Billy does, too-a connection neither can speak aloud yet, but Dominic believes in it enough for both of them.
"Mine," Billy says almost kindly, and then releases Dominic's chin just as quickly as he'd taken it. Billy's hand moves to Dominic's hip, keeping him still, and then he reaches for the crop, nodding for Dominic to release it. It's too hard even for Billy to resist gently pushing Dominic's sweaty hair from his forehead, and he has no qualms in allowing Dominic to feel such a different and yet familiar touch. But it's only a moment, and there will be time for others like it later. For now Billy reaches high to release Dominic's cuffs from the hook above them, lowering Dominic's arms carefully and nodding him back down to his feet.
Dominic sways slightly as Billy moves them away from the wall and a few steps closer to the bed. It's not over, as he both hopes and fears, not nearly and it's only with the same kind of mixed relief and dread that he goes to his knees on the hardwood floor when Billy presses down on Dominic's wrists to guide him, holding onto the cuffs to steady him. The muscles in Dominic's thighs ache once he's released and on his knees, compete with the burn from the marks on his back, the stiffness in his arms. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding himself in anticipation, and he's surprised to find that the heavy, thick breaths he can hear are his own, that he feels so shattered. When Billy crouches to release Dominic's hands rather than let them fall, Dominic's caught between wanting to keep Billy's gaze and needing to turn away.
Billy makes the decision for him, leaving Dominic’s side to return to the dresser. Dominic closes his eyes and wills his heart to slow before Billy comes back with something that makes it race again.
"Drink," Billy says firmly, holding the wineglass to Dominic's lips. "Catch your breath."
To be continued.
Authors: kiltsandlollies and escribo
Characters: Dominic/Billy
Word count: 3128
Summary: Continues from here.
Warnings: D/s
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
Billy's grip on the crop tightens as he steps back to watch Dominic settle into the position demanded. The matchstrikes on Dominic's back are rusty, visible even in the relative darkness of the bedroom. What light there is from the candles makes the rest of Dominic's skin glow orange and yellow-trapped fire, Billy thinks as he moves again to Dominic's side; another guttering flame fighting to burn as bright as possible.
Dominic's arms are stretched long, held tight by the cuffs and hook, and his feet shoulder width apart, forcing his knees to bend slightly to keep his balance. Resting his head on his forearms, Dominic sets his back in a straight line tapering to his waist and slight flare of his hips. Sweat makes his skin damp to the touch and his hair stick up from where Billy's fingers have mussed the careful non-style Dominic had started out with when he left his room.
The room is quiet except for the sounds Billy makes as he moves around; Dominic cannot even hear the usual soft ticking of Billy's bedside clock and wonders if it's been banished along with the ancient rug and the perpetual piles of laundry. Unlike in his past experience in this position, there is no music to deafen his senses, and he finds the silence vastly more pleasurable. It's soothing, in its own way, and though the angle of his body may be awkward, Dominic finds he can relax into it-that he's comfortable, even-leaving him to experience the more uncomfortable pleasure of waiting for what comes next.
"Keep your chin up," Billy says behind him. “Your eyes as well.” Billy waits barely a second before delivering his first blow, a hard tap just inside the marks at the small of Dominic's back. "I’ve seen you move faster for less, Dominic; don’t pretend you can't."
Still too near Dominic to do much damage, Billy spiderwalks his fingers up and down Dominic's spine, pausing to rest the palm of his free hand flat at the curve of Dominic's ass to caress the skin there, gathering the sweat on his fingers. Billy watches the corded muscles of Dominic's neck and shoulders tighten, and he allows Dominic to see his smile before he moves again, one hand trailing the crop up Dominic's thighs to brush against Dominic's balls and lift his cock, the leather growing slick with sweat and pre-come.
Billy hums to himself again, his free hand traveling, fingers deep now in the cleft of Dominic's ass, just teasing for the moment. He’s not even opened the bottle of lube he's left waiting on the dresser, needing to keep a proper grip on the crop now more than to slide his fingers well inside Dominic. Dominic's holding himself back, keeping himself from pushing and arching into Billy's touch, and Billy's thrilled at the control on view here and can't wait to see more of it. Can't wait to break it in pieces large and small.
He stops his hand's movement just as one fingertip barely pushes past the resistance at Dominic's opening, and with his right hand Billy turns the crop underneath Dominic's cock, drawing it slowly down the full, thick vein and then sliding it away quickly, the sound of leather on damp skin making Billy's breath catch at the same time as Dominic's.
"Better," Billy murmurs, his mouth very close to Dominic's ear. He can see the trail of sweat that falls from Dominic's hair down the side of his neck, and it takes a strength Billy's surprised he has not to race his tongue across it-to taste Dominic’s skin while he pushes his fingers however harshly inside Dominic's body. He takes a deep breath and moves until he's entirely behind Dominic while he speaks.
"You’ll take four now,” Billy says. "Then I'm going to open you up again and bring you close and keep you there, and then six more. And you're not to come, or we're finished here, do you understand? You'll crawl yourself home, assuming you still can."
Another breath, and Billy takes a few steps in retreat, weighing the crop one last time before landing his first real blow high on Dominic's back. The second and third follow, lower but still within the confines of the marks Billy made earlier with those long, perfect matches. The candlelight in the room flickers with the shifts in the air, like little lightning streaks across the smooth plane of Dominic's back. The fourth blow lands significantly harder than the others, almost losing Dominic his balance, and he gasps with it, his body falling forward just a bit before he regains himself and pushes back.
The silence in the room is cut only by Dominic’s ragged breaths and Billy’s own, slower inhalations. Billy’s content to offer them both this pause-he wants Dominic to register the blows he’s already taken, to think on each one of them and recognize that there’s more to come-and he takes the moment himself to tuck the crop under his arm again, stepping back to the dresser for the lube and spreading it thinly on the fingers of his left hand. He has no intention of letting Dominic relax entirely, and so as soon as he’s satisfied again, he's behind Dominic once more, two fingers shoving roughly inside him with no warning, no further preliminaries.
The mix of first pain then pleasure almost prematurely breaks Dominic’s control, and Billy can feel him fighting to get it back, his desire to prove his strength stronger than any other at the moment. Billy’s eyes travel down Dominic’s body as he works, and Billy can’t hide the pleasure in what he sees, the feeling translating itself into the motions of his hand. He’s only landed four blows of the eventual ten, Billy knows, but the raised, reddened lines across Dominic's back are strikingly beautiful, and Billy’s thrilled by them and by his own control-his own ability to keep the marks inside the boundaries he created earlier. "Well done, Dominic," he says, pressing hard, twisting, listening for Dominic's breathing to change again. "Well done."
The minor praise drags a shattered exhale from Dominic, but he can’t speak. His cock aches and his back stings, and he focuses on the pain to force all other distractions from his mind. He suffers only for a moment before he fills his lungs then pushes the air out again through clenched teeth. He’s never felt this satisfied by this kind of scene, and it’s nowhere near finished. He’d expected Billy to know how to twist and turn him, how to make him beg, but he hadn’t expected to be sussed out this well, to be read like the simplest book and have himself read back in more complicated words. Somewhere in the recesses of Dominic’s mind, he’s impressed and grateful, but those are emotions he’ll replay and express some other time; for now he can’t do more than count backwards silently from ten-nine, eight, seven-until his body and mind balance-five, four, three-and he can again focus only on Billy. Two and one. Now he can move past the ache and the sting and enjoy the twist and curl of Billy’s fingers inside his body.
Billy watches and listens, wondering if Dominic's thoughts stay grounded in present reality or if he's somewhere else entirely. He almost regrets not having Dominic count, because he wants very much to hear Dominic do more than gasp. That notion reminds Billy that it has been a long time since he's done anything like this, and the thought crosses his mind that he's going to push too far at some point, or say something that will break this strange spell in the room. Already he recognizes that he should not have said anything about Barchi's drawings or his own reaction to them, but that’s the only regret Billy has had yet this night. He would still stand by what he said, but the reminder of his reaction to the pictures of Dominic bound just for show is almost too much.
The memory of that reaction now makes his fingers twist harder inside Dominic, further and better, and Billy thrills to it when Dominic rises up on the balls of his feet a little, both an encouragement to Billy and an attempt to escape the burn and press. Still, this sort of thing-Dominic controlling anything about this moment-is not on the cards, and Billy's hand lands firmly on Dominic's shoulder, pushing him back down. Dominic gasps again, and Billy swats the crop between Dominic's legs, against his inner thigh and just brushing below Dominic's balls. Another gasp, and this time Billy raises one eyebrow, pleased and amused in an abstract way. Rather than ask what Dominic could possibly be thinking, he smacks the crop again, lower but harder, and nods slowly when Dominic's legs open wider for him. The new posture bows Dominic's back a little, and Billy's eyes follow a bead of sweat down Dominic's shoulders to the small of his back, entranced. Billy presses the flat of the crop and his hand to Dominic's shoulder blade, forcing him forward and lower still, and then he moves a third finger inside Dominic, almost surprised at the still slight resistance he finds. He moves very close to Dominic now, and the heat of their bodies is intense. Billy turns his wrist as he speaks, feeling Dominic's legs begin to shake again.
"On your toes now and stay there," Billy hisses, more than a little breathless. "Keep your chin up." Dominic complies, shaking the sweat from his hair, and Billy steps away again from him, taking a moment to slide his hand down Dominic's back, his fingers trailing as before to the sweaty rise of the curve of Dominic’s ass. Billy would love to keep his hand where it is, to caress Dominic's reddened flesh and soothe it somewhat, but that time will come. His right arm and shoulder throb both with strain and adrenaline, and Billy catalogs every twinge.
The first three blows this time are more rhythmic than the ones before, to allow Dominic to adjust to the feeling again, this time with the added pressure of holding himself taller and better presented. Billy watches the tendons of Dominic's arms and neck flex and relax as he prepares himself for each blow, his hands clenching into strong fists above his head, and a spark of pleasure races up Billy's spine before he lands his second to last blow fiercely, memorizing the sight of Dominic's body reacting, his hands opening wide and tense and the sound of his gasp.
"I said you could speak but you've been silent," Billy murmurs, taking two steps forward, enough so Dominic will register the change in the nearness of his voice. "Tell me how badly you want this."
Nine. And Dominic can feel the sting and glow of each one separately and together, his back burning, both the muscles beneath and the skin stretched hot across. Everything all and together, deliciously. The last will be harder and more perfect than all the other nine together, he knows it and craves it, and when Billy pauses and Dominic has to wait, he fears not being able to ask for it well enough.
"One more, Dominic. One more and I'll let you down and we move on. It’s not over, but we move on. But not till y'tell me." Billy turns the crop over in his hand, weighing it once more. "Not till I hear you beg for it."
"I want-" Dominic begins then stops, knowing want isn't the right word. He doesn't just want it. It isn't like asking for an iPod for Christmas; he needs this. He's shocked by how much he needs it and has to take another breath-another moment-to sort it out, to understand it. His hands open and close again, and he checks his posture, rubs the sweat from his eyes on his arms as best he can. When he begins again, he's more shocked now that he has voice enough left at all to tell Billy what he wants to say. "Please. I need this. I need the last."
Silence again and Dominic has to wonder if it was his own voice that he heard speak by how tight and low it sounded. It's almost as if he hadn't spoken at all, and no blow comes. The prickling at the back of his eyes surprises him. It's not a reaction he's ever had with anyone else. Patience has never been Dominic's strong suit, and the pleading note in his voice is nearly tempered by the desire to demand, but he’s aware that he’s in no position to do so. He knows he'd be on his knees right now, if not for the restraints.
"I want this for you, Billy. I want to please you with this. Please," Dominic says. He lifts his chin again, his legs straight as he balances on the balls of his feet, his back arching while his arms are stretched, held tight by the cuffs and the hook. He banishes any sense of his personal desire, willingly and willfully sublimating himself to Billy. "Hard, Billy, please. I need to do this for you."
The blow is harder than any of those before, and lands before Dominic finishes his plea. Billy feels the sting reverberate back up through his own arm and watches the vivid mark rise up across the small of Dominic's back, just barely inside the edges of the matchstrikes. Billy releases an excited, fierce exhale, quite certain that it goes mostly unheard beneath the sound that comes from Dominic-gasp or sob, Billy's not sure which. Dominic's holding himself in such deep control that Billy watches in wonder how Dominic's body trembles but doesn't give, how he remains on his toes, his entire body taut and strong.
Billy gives them both the moment to recover, and then he's behind Dominic again, curling his fingers hard against Dominic's hipbone and sliding the flatter edge of the crop up underneath Dominic's cock again, slowly, before moving it back up Dominic's stomach and chest.
"Well done," Billy says, his fingers brushing one of the welts near Dominic's shoulders before he moves to Dominic's side and he turns the crop in his hands slightly until he can tap the edge against Dominic's chin. "Open your mouth, Dominic."
Billy turns the crop again, sliding it gently between Dominic's teeth and nodding for Dominic to bite down. Billy gives Dominic half a smile, more than enough, he thinks, and then cups Dominic's chin, turning Dominic to face him.
"You can make whatever noise y'like, but you might get down and back on your knees faster if you don't. And don’t you fucking come." Billy touches his forehead to Dominic's cheek, and then turns Dominic to face the wall again before his hand brushes against the matchstrikes and the long, vibrant welts on Dominic’s back. Billy closes his eyes and lets his mind wander for a moment, lets his fingers trail along the raised marks before they slide back down to the cleft of Dominic's ass to tease back inside Dominic again.
The slow, methodical rhythm of Billy’s hand almost breaks Dominic's resolve. He wants to push back, to demand more, and it's almost too much to remember to keep his body still, to keep quiet. Dominic bites down on the crop's tress, tasting leather and salt and wondering if it's his own sweat from where Billy had caressed him or Billy's, from his exertions. Concentrating on that scent and taste only helps keep his mind focused on something other than what Billy is doing. The smallest move he makes is being judged, he can feel it, and he wants to please Billy with this as much as everything else.
"Stay with me, Dominic," Billy says, keeping his words low and under his breath. "You have to know that however long it takes, it’ll be worth it." Billy's said such things before, and even in this context, but has rarely believed it so completely as he does now, appraising the flex in Dominic's calves as he rises again on his toes. It's a breathtaking sight when combined with everything else filling Billy's vision, and it's enough to make him reach again for Dominic's chin, turning it harshly this time to face him.
For a moment Dominic can see the flicker of need in Billy’s eyes, and for less than that moment he wonders if Billy’s going to kiss him, if this is meant to calm them both. Whatever else they've done or will do tonight, it means little unless they've achieved the kind of connection Dominic wants, and thinks that Billy does, too-a connection neither can speak aloud yet, but Dominic believes in it enough for both of them.
"Mine," Billy says almost kindly, and then releases Dominic's chin just as quickly as he'd taken it. Billy's hand moves to Dominic's hip, keeping him still, and then he reaches for the crop, nodding for Dominic to release it. It's too hard even for Billy to resist gently pushing Dominic's sweaty hair from his forehead, and he has no qualms in allowing Dominic to feel such a different and yet familiar touch. But it's only a moment, and there will be time for others like it later. For now Billy reaches high to release Dominic's cuffs from the hook above them, lowering Dominic's arms carefully and nodding him back down to his feet.
Dominic sways slightly as Billy moves them away from the wall and a few steps closer to the bed. It's not over, as he both hopes and fears, not nearly and it's only with the same kind of mixed relief and dread that he goes to his knees on the hardwood floor when Billy presses down on Dominic's wrists to guide him, holding onto the cuffs to steady him. The muscles in Dominic's thighs ache once he's released and on his knees, compete with the burn from the marks on his back, the stiffness in his arms. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding himself in anticipation, and he's surprised to find that the heavy, thick breaths he can hear are his own, that he feels so shattered. When Billy crouches to release Dominic's hands rather than let them fall, Dominic's caught between wanting to keep Billy's gaze and needing to turn away.
Billy makes the decision for him, leaving Dominic’s side to return to the dresser. Dominic closes his eyes and wills his heart to slow before Billy comes back with something that makes it race again.
"Drink," Billy says firmly, holding the wineglass to Dominic's lips. "Catch your breath."
To be continued.