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By His Rules Page 16


  Aiden’s navel, then blew a stream of cool air on the wet

  place. Aiden lifted his hips and twisted. Keaton laughed

  softly. “Let’s get this off.” He unbuttoned Aiden’s shirt

  and slid a hand under Aiden’s back, lifting him so that he

  could pull the article off. He ran his hands over Aiden’s

  chest. Aiden inhaled sharply when Keaton’s hands

  passed over his nipples.

  Keaton let his thumbs drift over the nubs once

  more. Aiden kicked, almost hitting Keaton. “Sensitive,

  are we?” Keaton smiled and circled Aiden’s nipples with

  his thumbs.

  “Please. Please… ”

  Keaton plunged down, taking one of the hard

  peaks between his lips, licking and sucking. Aiden

  arched his back and grabbed Keaton’s shoulders. Keaton

  moved to the other nipple, flicking it with his tongue,

  then letting his teeth scrape it lightly. Aiden dug his nails

  into Keaton’s shoulders, whimpering. His legs twitched.

  He worried he might come just from Keaton sucking his

  tits. He ran his hands down Keaton’s back, loving the

  man’s smooth skin, the dips and ridges of his muscles.

  Keaton kissed his way down Aiden’s chest to his

  navel and then down farther until he reached the

  waistband of Aiden’s pants. He undid Aiden’s fly

  slowly. Aiden rocketed his hips into the air so that

  Keaton could yank his jeans off, but Keaton pulled his

  pants down slowly, stopping to run his fingernails up

  and down Aiden’s outer thighs.

  “God, Keaton.” Aiden gasped. “I need… please… ”

  “Patience.” Keaton chuckled. He stripped Aiden’s

  jeans the rest of the way off, then exhaled a rush of hot

  breath onto the bulge in Aiden’s briefs. He reached up

  and gently rolled Aiden’s nipples between his fingers

  while he kissed his cock through his underwear.

  “Keaton!” Aiden wailed. Scott had never been so

  slow, so thorough, so gentle. Scott liked to fuck hard and

  fast, or else tease Aiden cruelly without letting him

  come. But Keaton—Keaton seemed to want Aiden to feel

  good, encouraged his whimpers and moans, discovered

  and worshipped Aiden’s body inch by inch.

  “You’re so hard,” Keaton whispered, nuzzling the

  front of Aiden’s briefs. He hooked his fingers in the

  waistband

  and

  tugged

  the

  underwear

  down.

  “Gorgeous,” Keaton remarked, staring at Aiden’s cock.

  He slid Aiden’s underwear off, then parted Aiden’s legs.

  He traced a path up Aiden’s inner thighs with his

  fingertips.

  Aiden shuddered. He was soaring, spread and

  naked in front of Keaton, at the man’s mercy. His mood

  dipped a little as he thought about what he must actually

  look like to someone as beautiful as Keaton—not

  gorgeous at all, but bony, awkward, pathetic. Most of his

  marks had faded, but there were still yellow-gray traces

  of bruising on his ass and one hip.

  There was suddenly no time to think about

  anything else, because Keaton took Aiden in his mouth

  and slowly, gently began to suck.

  “No.” Aiden gasped, pushing Keaton’s head back.

  He felt suddenly frantic, confused.

  Keaton pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

  “You shouldn’t be doing this. I should be the

  one… ”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I should be sucking you!”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” Aiden sputtered. “You’re the one in

  charge.”

  Keaton grinned, shaking his head. “Well, as the one

  in charge, I say lie back and enjoy your blowjob.” Keaton

  went down on him again without giving him time to

  answer. As he worked Aiden’s cock, his fingers toyed

  with Aiden’s balls, keeping a steady counter rhythm to

  the bobbing of his head.

  Aiden couldn’t help the moans that escaped him, or

  the way he arched his back and rocked his hips, thrusting

  deep into Keaton’s mouth. He knew he was close and

  wondered if he should warn Keaton.

  But Keaton stopped just before Aiden came.

  Aiden moaned with frustration.

  Keaton moved forward and kissed him, brushing

  Aiden’s hair back from his forehead, and running his

  thumb gently over Aiden’s eyelids. “Turn over,” he

  whispered in Aiden’s ear.

  Aiden obeyed with a mewl. Keaton’s palms passed

  firmly down his back, then gripped his hips. Aiden

  couldn’t help rocking a little against the bed. Keaton

  spread Aiden’s legs wide, then pressed his lips to the

  small of Aiden’s back. He lapped the tender hollow until

  Aiden twitched and bucked, then dragged his tongue

  down to the beginning of Aiden’s cleft.

  He licked down one cheek, then began to nibble the

  soft mound of flesh, never hard enough to hurt. Aiden

  gasped, grabbing fistfuls of sheets. Keaton brought his

  teeth to the sensitive juncture between Aiden’s buttock

  and thigh and nipped there. Aiden thrust his ass up,

  wanting more but unsettled that Keaton was doing all

  this for him, and that he was doing nothing to serve

  Keaton. Keaton moved to the other cheek, nibbling and

  kissing until Aiden moaned steadily, rocking against the

  bed.

  Then suddenly Keaton pressed his tongue between

  Aiden’s cheeks. He licked down Aiden’s crack, stopping

  to flick his tongue against Aiden’s hole, then continuing

  down to the soft skin between Aiden’s opening and his

  balls. Aiden ground against the sheets as Keaton brought

  his tongue up again and swirled it around Aiden’s

  entrance. Then Keaton thrust the hot, wet muscle inside

  Aiden. Aiden cried out as Keaton withdrew his tongue

  and plunged it in again.

  Aiden pulled at the sheets and scrubbed his cock

  against the bed, sure that if he didn’t come in the next

  few seconds, he would die. Keaton continued to rim him

  and then once again stopped just as Aiden reached the

  edge. Aiden nearly sobbed. “Keaton, please. Please don’t

  stop. I need this… ”

  Keaton leaned over Aiden and opened the

  nightstand drawer. Aiden heard him tear a condom

  package open, then, a minute later, uncap a bottle of

  lube.

  “I’m going to take you now,” Keaton said softly.

  “It’s going to feel so good. We’ll come together.”

  “Yes,” Aiden whispered, still squirming.

  Keaton spread his cheeks and slicked his entrance.

  It was cold, and Aiden flinched. Keaton slipped a finger

  inside of him, exploring, loosening him. Aiden took a

  deep breath and let it out. The finger was joined by a

  second, stretching him, finding that sensitive place inside

  him and stroking it. Keaton slid his fingers out and

  nudged Aiden’s opening with his cock. Aiden spread his

  legs wider, ready, desperate to feel Keaton inside of him.

  Keaton bore in slowly. Aiden felt a f
lash of fear as he

  remembered the last time he’d been fucked. He’d lain

  across the table, limp, exhausted from fighting, afraid to

  move in case Scott started hitting him again. Scott had

  made it hurt. A lot.

  This didn’t hurt at all. Keaton made love to him in

  long, smooth strokes that grew quicker and harder as

  Aiden begged. After one particularly hard thrust, Aiden

  whispered, “Yes. Hurt me.”

  Keaton slowed down. Ran a hand over Aiden’s

  back. “Never,” he said firmly. He lowered himself

  against Aiden’s back, then rolled Aiden so they both lay

  on their sides. Then he rocked his hips forward, inch by

  inch. Then backward, inch by inch. Aiden hadn’t known

  it was possible to fuck this slowly.

  Sometimes minutes passed between Keaton’s

  thrusts. Each plunge into Aiden’s channel drove a low

  moan of pleasure from Aiden. Keaton reached around

  and stroked Aiden’s cock, increasing his pace until

  Aiden couldn’t bear it anymore.

  “Keaton—”

  “Are you ready to come for me?”

  “Yes!”

  Keaton fisted Aiden’s cock once more, running his

  thumb over the slit, and Aiden’s cum shot across the

  sheets as Keaton arched and shuddered against him,

  coming with a shout.

  They lay there for a few minutes, breathing

  together. Then Keaton pulled out of him, stripped off the

  condom, and tossed it onto the floor. He pulled Aiden’s

  trembling body against his and dragged the covers over

  both of them. Aiden rolled over so he could bury his

  head in Keaton’s chest. Keaton trapped Aiden’s legs

  between his own and whispered into Aiden’s hair. “All

  right?”

  “All right?” Aiden laughed shakily. “That was

  fucking incredible.”

  Keaton chuckled. “No kidding.”

  Aiden wound his arms around Keaton. “Thank

  you,” he said softly. He didn’t know what he was

  thanking Keaton for, exactly. For the sex, for not hurting

  him, for letting him stay here.

  Keaton kissed the top of his head again. “Sleep,” he

  said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aiden set his pen down and looked over the list

  he’d just written.

  THE RULES

  1. I will behave respectfully and maturely at all

  times. This means no lying to, cursing at, manipulating,

  or back talking my partner.

  2. I will eat three balanced meals per day.

  3. I will be in bed by midnight each night, and sleep

  at least eight hours.

  4. I will not bite my nails or pick at hangnails.

  5. I will talk to my partner if I feel afraid, confused,

  angry, or overwhelmed.

  A fairly simple list—except that as Aiden read over

  rules one through three, he absently bit his thumbnail.

  He reached number four and quickly sat on his hand. He

  grimaced at number five. He appreciated Keaton’s

  concern, but no way was he going to bother Keaton with

  every little mood swing he experienced.

  Simple rules. And the consequences for breaking

  them were decidedly silly. Having his mouth washed

  out, or having to write lines wasn’t going to do anything

  but make Aiden feel a little foolish. And he had a feeling

  Keaton was probably a gentle touch as far as spanking

  went. Corner time was the only thing Aiden really

  dreaded. But Keaton had promised to stay in the room

  with Aiden anytime Aiden was assigned corner time. He

  stuck the list on side of the refrigerator facing the wall so

  that he’d always know where it was, but guests wouldn’t

  see it. He had a hard time taking this domestic discipline

  thing seriously. But if it made Keaton happy, what the

  heck?

  He was biting his nail again. Damn it. He felt a flash

  of annoyance. What business was it of Keaton’s whether

  or not he bit his nails? Scott’s rules had made sense. They

  were all designed to make sure Aiden was a good sub,

  that he pleased his dom. And Scott’s punishments were

  true punishments. These rules, except for number one,

  had nothing to do with Keaton, or Keaton’s pleasure. So

  why did they matter so much?

  “You don’t have to sleep there,” Keaton had said last

  night when they went upstairs and Aiden headed for the

  guest room. “Unless you want to.”

  Aiden had attempted a smile, though his heart was

  pounding. “I thought the reason I was here was to appreciate

  the guest room?”

  Keaton had laughed. “I’m relieving you of your duties.

  If you’ll accept my invitation to share the master bedroom with

  me.”

  Aiden had accepted, closing the guest room door

  and following Keaton into his room. Their room? Aiden

  still wasn’t sure what he and Keaton were. Partners,

  Keaton had said. But what exactly did that mean?

  Aiden sat back down and listened to his stomach

  try to digest the cereal he’d eaten for breakfast. Was it

  possible that Keaton really cared about him? Cared

  whether he was healthy, happy—safe? He’d spoiled the

  thrill of being asked to share Keaton’s bed by leaping up

  in the middle of the night to throw up his dinner. Keaton,

  of course, had woken and come into the bathroom. Aiden

  had tried to explain to Keaton afterward that he didn’t

  need help or comfort while he was throwing up, that all

  having Keaton there did was embarrass him—but

  Keaton wouldn’t listen. And fine, maybe it did help a lot

  to have someone rubbing his back while he puked. That

  still didn’t make Keaton’s intrusion acceptable.

  Now he was supposed to start brainstorming for his

  personal statement. He slid a fresh sheet of paper in front

  of him and picked up the pen. Keaton had told him to

  freewrite for fifteen minutes about his dream role as an

  actor—the lead in the play he and Keaton had discussed

  the other night on the way back from the gym. Why did

  he want to play the role? What drew him to the character,

  to the play? What unique interpretation of the part could

  he offer? What skills did he want to master before taking

  on the role?

  Aiden stared at the paper. The thoughts that had

  flowed so freely in the car with Keaton were now hiding

  in the shadows of his mind. He didn’t know why he

  wanted to play the part, beyond the fact that it would be

  fun. But he was too weak an actor to play it well, and he

  didn’t have anything unique to bring to the role, so why

  bother writing about it? How was this supposed to help

  him write a personal statement?

  He scribbled a few bullet points.

  * The role would be cool.

  * I’m a shitty actor

  * Who fucking cares?

  Keaton had said Aiden didn’t need to show him

  what he’d written; it was for Aiden’s personal use. Aiden

  sat there until fifteen minutes had passed; then he went

  to find Keaton in the studio.

 
“Hey,” Aiden said, standing in the doorway.

  “Hey there,” Keaton said. He was arranging coils of

  clay in an off-kilter tower. “How’d the writing go?”

  “Good,” Aiden said. A flash of guilt tore through

  him at the lie. He ignored it. “I think it’ll help with my

  statement.”

  statement.”

  “That’s great. What you told me the other night

  about that play and that role really shows your passion

  for theater. That might be a good starting point for your

  statement.”

  “Yeah. How’s your stuff going?”

  “Good. I’m getting a little frustrated with this vase.”

  “It looks—crooked.”

  Keaton grinned. “It’s supposed to be. Trouble is,

  it’s not quite the kind of crooked I want.”

  “You look like you could use a break.”

  Keaton wiped his brow with the back of his hand,

  smearing a little clay onto his forehead. “Maybe so. Want

  to take a walk?”

  Aiden shrugged, stepping closer. “I had another

  kind of exercise in mind.” He put his hand against the

  front of Keaton’s pants.

  Keaton’s breath hitched. “Oh really?”

  Aiden grinned. “Really.” He dropped to his knees

  and undid Keaton’s fly.

  Keaton groaned softly, and the sound sent electric

  waves through Aiden.

  He was about to take down Keaton’s pants and

  underwear when Keaton pulled him up by the

  shoulders. “Hold on.” He kissed Aiden thoroughly, until

  Aiden’s face was flushed and his breathing was rough.

  “There.” Aiden’s legs trembled as he sank to his knees

  once more and uncovered Keaton’s bobbing cock.

  During the next ten minutes, Aiden heard sounds

  he’d never imagined coming from someone as collected

  and dignified as Keaton Hughes. He finished, wiped his

  mouth, and grinned up at Keaton. “Good?” he asked.

  Keaton tugged him up and kissed him again, hard,

  backing him against the workbench. A cup of water

  tipped over. Aiden struggled for purchase and put his

  hand on a soft, cool mess of unmolded clay. “It was

  okay,” Keaton said. But he couldn’t keep a straight face

  for more than a few seconds. He unsnapped Aiden’s

  pants and let them fall, tugged his briefs down. “It was

  good. So good I’d like to show my gratitude.”

  He reached around Aiden and picked up a large,

  clean paintbrush. He dragged the bristles against Aiden’s