Page 42 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded

His eyebrows rose. “Oh,” he said, sounding unexpectedly delighted about it. “Yes, sir.” He shifted around on the bed, lying on his side and lifting his knee so that I had a clear view of his groin. It was a little more awkward for him to reach my dick this way, but he did the best he could, propping himself up on one arm while his free hand worked himself.

He came less than two minutes later, spilling over his own hand in thick spurts. He released my cock briefly, as he gave a strangled cry of pleasure, gasping for air… but then he was right back again, smooth suction and warm pressure on my cock – which was fully hard now, much to my amazement.

But I had been right about one thing. Climaxing today was going to be a challenge. The blow job felt fantastic, but there seemed to be an odd disconnect between the surface pleasure and the deeper sensations that would send me over the edge. Undeterred, Dax kept going, replacing fast strokes with slower, firmer ones, using his hand to massage my balls, now that he wasn’t occupied with his own pleasure. He didn’t seem to be atall impatient, content to continue the stimulation for as long as I required it.

As the minutes ticked by, I noticed him growing hard again. The realisation caused my own cock to twitch in anticipation. Dax’s body overall was noticeably smaller than mine. He was a good foot shorter, and narrower at the shoulders. And after a year of poor nutrition, he was also significantly underweight, but that was a problem we were working on, now that Dax was in charge of ordering our groceries.

But his dick was a stark exception to his overall well-proportioned body. It was longer than mine by a good inch, and… God, it wasn’t my imagination. It was nearly twice as thick. And he looked like he was ready to go again, just minutes after climaxing the first time.

Well, to be fair, he’d gone a whole year without any kind of release, so it was perfectly reasonable for him to be eager now.

“Dax?” My voice sounded husky now, and noticeably deeper than it had been before.

“Hm?” he asked, glancing up at me without slowing the motions of his mouth. Oh god, that sent a rush of desire through me, seeing his innocent eyes peering up at me, while his mouth was busy swallowing my cock.

“I want… Oh fuck… Uhnn… I want you to… stroke yourself some more. I want to watch you come again.”

For a brief moment, his eyes opened wider, but with his mouth full of my cock, I couldn’t quite figure out whether his expression was one of eager pleasure or harried disbelief. But the noise that rumbled out of his throat was one of wholehearted approval, and he quickly rearranged himself again to put on another show. His scales were taking on a deeper blue hue, I realised, as he stroked himself in long, slow movements. And his breathing was becoming deeper, his chest rising and falling, hiships jerking every now and then. God, he was enjoying this… and watching him enjoy it made me want to…

“Oh fuck,” I mumbled, my fists suddenly gripping the sheets like a lifeline as I came, hard and unexpected, into his willing mouth. He continued sucking, even as he swallowed my essence, his motions gradually slowing until he finally backed off, just as I was getting too sensitive.

I collapsed back onto the pillows, eyes closed, chest heaving, thoroughly stunned by the fact that I’d climaxed at all – never mind how hard I’d come. “Oh, god, that was amazing.”

Beside me, I could feel the bed dipping and shaking as Dax moved around, and then the rustle of tissues as he cleaned up a bit. Once I’d caught my breath, I opened my eyes and looked down at him. He was kneeling on the bed facing me, a bright grin on his face, combined with a look of soft affection. Of adoration, even. I hadn’t seen him look this happy since the day he’d climbed out of his crate.

But then I glanced down his body and saw that he still had a raging hard-on. “Uh, do you want to…” I stopped myself before I finished the question. But then I didn’t know what to say next. He looked entirely pleased and satisfied, sitting there watching me. So if I ordered him to get himself off, would that be too much stimulation for him? Or, conversely, if I didn’t tell him to, would he be left frustrated and on edge for the rest of the day?

“Do you want to come again?” I asked, bracing myself for all manner of sideways answers. Aiden had been very insistent that dimari should not be asked questions about what they wanted. It confused them, he said, and clarified nothing. A dimari wanted what his master wanted. That was all.

I didn’t believe that for a fat second. Dax had made his opinion known in a multitude of ways over the past year, and even more firmly in the past week, since Aiden had startedworking with us. It might be difficult for him toexpresshis desires, but that didn’t mean he didn’twantthings.

Dax opened his mouth to answer… but then his cheerful, relaxed demeanour seeped away, replaced with anxious confusion. “I… um…”

Shit. It seemed Aiden was right about that part, after all. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t work around this. “Are you feeling aroused?” I asked instead. That should be a simple, yes/ no answer.

“Yes, sir,” Dax said, without hesitation.

“Would you…” A number of questions flickered through my mind, each of them rejected in turn.Would you feel better if you came again? Would you be more relaxed if you came again? Are you feeling at all sore at the moment?Each one could be misinterpreted, and didn’t really answer the question I wanted to ask. I tried to think about this from a dimari’s perspective… and finally latched onto a question that might tell me what I wanted to know, at the same time as appeasing Dax’s ingrained sense of duty and responsibility.

“Would you be able to perform your duties better today if I let you come again?”

Dax grinned. And it wasn’t just a grin of desire. It held a knowing glint, a hint of keen intelligence that was so often stifled behind the need for obedience. He knew exactly what I was asking. And if I wasn’t misinterpreting things, he was genuinely impressed that I’d managed to ask in a way he could answer properly. “Yes, sir, I would,” he said, with all the confidence of a king surveying his subjects. And fuck me, that self-assuredness revved my engine like nothing I’d ever known.

“Then go to it,” I said, glancing down at his erection again.

I half-expected him to just leap on the order and jerk himself off, fast and efficient. After a year of waiting, god knows that’s what I would have done. But he didn’t. Instead, he settled backon his knees, leaning back and supporting himself with one arm behind him – all to give me a better view of his body. Then he stroked himself, sloooowly, up to the tip, down to the base, and I could see his fingers flexing as he squeezed himself. I’d said earlier that I wanted to watch him come again, and it seemed he was going to take the opportunity to put on a real show.

I watched transfixed as he worked himself, his eyes drifting halfway closed, faint moans and whimpers drawn from his lips. I heard him swallow, then he licked his lips, his other hand coming around to cup his balls, even as he held himself at an angle, leaning back, letting me look my fill.

His breathing was getting quicker, his abdominal muscles flexing and straining, and his scales were darkening, ocean blue turning to midnight blue. I stared at his hand, stretched around his cock, my mouth watering at the sight of how thick it was. I wanted to taste him…

And all of a sudden, I realised that I could. There was no question that Dax would let me… and I had every reason to believe he’d thoroughly enjoy it, as well.

“Dax, wait, stop,” I said, reaching out and putting my hand over his, stilling him where he was stroking himself. “Lie down on your back,” I said, not giving him the chance to get anxious about being interrupted. “Spread your legs.”

He scrambled over, throwing himself down onto the bed and spreading his legs for me. I wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting, but there was no question about his eagerness. I leaned forward and took him into my mouth, tasting the salty tang of his previous release and smelling the rich, musky scent of him.

The instant he felt my mouth on him, Dax sat up like a shot, gaping down at me in shock as a startled cry left his lips. I pulled back, watching him carefully. Was this mere surprise, or did he actually object to this? I waited, while he stared at me, then,when he seemed frozen in indecision, I asked, “Did I hurt you?” I prayed that he understood the question. I’d told him to tell me if I was hurting him, so that I could do things differently. Was it too early for him to understand that he could use that as an easy out to any sexual act that he wasn’t on board with? It might take a fair bit more time, and a lot more trust between us, before he dared to be that brazen in refusing his master.