Max’s eyelids grew heavy as he gazed at his boy, unable to resist envisioning Sean’s fantasy. Of the two of them, together, every single day. Max reached down and slowly ran his hand through Sean’s hair, then slid his fingers lower to lift Sean’s chin. Sean instantly met his stare. Holy fuck, his pupils were huge. Maybe he was envisioning his fantasy, too.
Max’s heart thumped. “Do you trust me?”
Sean nodded. “Yes, Maximus.”
“Will you obey me?”
“Yes.”
“Implicitly?”
“Yes.”
“You better.”
Sean smiled and held his gaze. Max almost smiled, too. God, he was beautiful. Max could look at him forever. Slowly, absently, he thumbed Sean’s lower lip.
“Do you relinquish control, caitín?”
Sean’s eyes hooded. “Yes.”
“Until I give it back?”
“Yes, Maximus.”
Of its own accord, Max’s dick started hardening. He loved Sean submissive like this. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t also love him frisky. Or gorgeously bold and brazen. Because he did. Loved every single aspect of Sean. But this subservient side just really rubbed Max right. Stroked his Dom like a fist along his cock.
Max’s lips curved. “Alright, Sean. Here’s the deal. I’m going to finish this project that’s due, and while I’m working you’re gonna make yourself useful.”
Sean’s brows drew together. “Useful?”
“Yeah. Useful. What, you need a dictionary?”
Sean tamped a laugh. “No.”
“Good. Now keep in mind, what you do with that time will dictate how we play once I’m done.”
Sean’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”
Max shrugged. “Pretty simple. If the things you do are things that please me, I just might decide to be nice.”
“Ah.”
Max could see Sean doing the math, acknowledging the outcome, of how things would end if he didn’t please Max. This should be interesting, seeing his choices. The angles he’d take to win Max’s praise.
Max palmed Sean’s cheek and gave it a pat. “So… Any questions?”
Sean shook his head. “No.”
“Good.” Max stepped back and turned toward his sculpture. “This shouldn’t take me more than twenty minutes.”
Sean rose back to his feet, tentatively looking around. “Um… Okay, so… something useful…”
“Right. Done quietly. With no fucking talking.” Max could all but feel Sean fighting back a scowl. He picked up his sandpaper, dunked it in its water dish, and commenced with the tedious task at hand.
Sean watched for a second. “Wet sanding?”
“Yup.”
“Ah. No dust.”
“Yup. Now shh.”
Sean sighed and glanced around again, scratched his cheek, then strode to Max’s wireless music system. Two seconds later, the power kicked on. A few more and “Gotten” filled the room. A soulful collaboration between Adam Levine and Slash. Interesting selection. Max approved.
He shifted his stance and sanded from another angle. From his peripheral, Sean watched him, his vibe palpable. Keen, intent, with a steadily climbing heat factor. Sure enough, the next thing Max knew, Sean was pulling his black tee over his head. A shirt, as it were, that Max really fucking liked. The way it hugged Sean’s torso leaving little to the imagination. Even its band logo was cool; Panic! At the Disco. Sexy and fun. The perfect fit for Sean. Not that Max minded him taking it off. The body beneath would always be preferred.
Discretely, he watched Sean carefully fold his tee, then search for a safe place to stash it. Over on Max’s desk. Max watched him set it down, then remove his shoes and socks. Sean slowly shucked his faded jeans next. Damn. That ass. He loved that ass. The boxer briefs still clinging to it, though? Not so much, but only because Sean let them stay on.
Max’s gaze dipped to watch all that snug denim drop, revealing the most gorgeous legs. And ankles. Ankles that just so happened to be wearing cuffs, too. Max’s dick steeled harder. When Sean first arrived, he spotted the ones on his wrists right away. The sight of them worn voluntarily outside of a session had thrilled Max so much more than he’d expected.
Sean folded his jeans, too, and set them atop his shirt, but not before grabbing something from one of the front pockets. Max eyed Sean’s hand curiously, then watched with thrumming dick as Sean promptly proceeded to don his black collar. Oh, fuck yeah. Sean’s wordless offering. A million fucking sentiments in one. The most important one, though? That he was officially all Max’s. Goddamn. The vision nearly put Max over the edge, that one final article, the icing on the cake. Like simultaneous strokes to his ego and cock, stirring him on every fucking level. It’d taken all that he had not to straight-up growl. Kind of like it was doing now.
Ah, God. To bend that boy over his desk.
Sean glanced over his shoulder. Max quickly looked away—time to give his sandpaper another dunk. And to start fucking focusing. Cuffs and collar aside, Sean had only turned on some tunes and stripped so far. All things Max liked and could definitely appreciate, but nothing any sub couldn’t’ve done. Sean better start putting some real points on the board if he wanted Max to take his pitch seriously.