Page 20 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded (Rogue Bonds #2)

Zeke

C ompletely unexpectedly, the question of consent was answering itself. Dax had a raging erection, and as he perched on the edge of my bed, he was leaning towards me, every muscle poised to spring into action. He might not be able to verbalise what he wanted, but his body language was all but screaming at me. And he was very good at communicating with his body language. I’d learned that on the very first day, when he’d silently scolded me for making him fetch the bottle of alcohol, back on the ship. I’d seen it over and over again, his growing dejection as I ignored and dismissed him, and then his open joy when I started to let him do things around the house. He’d been a calm, soothing presence when I’d had a panic attack. He’d been timid when I’d first asked him to sit on the sofa and watch a show with me. He’d been devastated when he’d presented himself to me to be punished for his unintentional disobedience. His thoughts and emotions were written in neon signs across his features, and he seemed completely guileless, holding nothing back.

If he didn’t want sex, or he didn’t like something in particular that I was doing, it would be just as obvious – so long as I took the time to pay attention.

Slowly, I slid the sheet away from my groin again, then very deliberately lay back on the bed. Then, deciding I didn’t have quite the right vantage point for this, I grabbed the second pillow and shoved it under my head, so that I was propped up a bit more, able to watch him without straining my neck the whole time. “Maybe you could… have another go at that massage,” I said, forcing the words out before I could think better of it.

He looked up at me, and the question in his mind was written on his face, clear as day. Did I realise what I was asking him for? he wanted to know. Was this an invitation for intimacy, or a simple attempt to ease the pain in my leg? I didn’t know how to answer the question, feeling as tongue-tied as he seemed to be, so I smiled, knowing it came out rather bashfully, and nodded.

He swallowed, tried and failed to suppress a grin, and then reached for my leg again. I tried to relax, like I had last time, but my heart was pounding in my chest, and in two minutes flat, I had myself so worked up with anxiety and apprehension that I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wasn’t getting hard today.

That was not good enough. I did not like setting Dax up to fail. I had no expectation at all of climaxing today, but I’d already proven that I was capable of getting hard – to a certain extent, at least – and if Dax could see a small degree of progress, then he had something to look forward to for next time.

I knew instinctively that ‘trying harder’ was only going to lead to more failure. This had worked the first time around because I’d been relaxed enough to let it happen, and so, ironically, the path of success lay down the road of surrender. I sighed, relaxed my shoulders, and let my thoughts begin to wander, even as my eyes mapped the path of Dax’s fingers on my leg. I thought back to the last man I’d slept with before… well, just before. I kept my mind firmly away from any of the things that were going to drive this particular experiment off a cliff. Alex had been tall, blond and muscular, and as cliched as it sounded, he’d been a plumber who had come to fix my toilet one afternoon. We’d stripped each other naked and then-

Oh, fuck, no. I flinched involuntarily, jerking away from the memory at the same time as I jerked away from Dax’s touch. Alex had been inside me, and after having literal fucking tentacles poking around at my insides, I now recoiled from even the thought of another person inside my body .

“I’m sorry,” Dax apologised immediately, snatching his hands away and staring contritely at the covers.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” I said, sounding more breathless than I would have liked. Or rather, because none of my lack of breath was from arousal. “Please, keep going. I just… I startled myself,” I tried to explain, not sure whether he would understand. He was far too quick to blame himself for things that were my fault, and keeping ahead of his internal narrative on the subject was going to be tricky.

Hesitant and unconvinced, he reached out again, resuming the massage. But my muscles were all locked up now, and persuading them to relax was near impossible. But there was a way around this, I realised, as I replayed my sex life on fast forward through my head. Before Alex, there had been Samuel, and I’d been topping him, that time. The monsters had done nothing unpleasant to my dick – hadn’t even touched it, for that matter – and the memory of hot, slick flesh around my shaft was still as appealing now as it had been then. I glanced down, seeing the dejected expression on Dax’s face, even as he kept up with the massage, and I debated whether or not I should ask him for something far more advanced than the meagre hand job I’d originally been expecting.

If he didn’t want this, I reminded myself, he would let me know. And right now, he was looking unhappy not because he had to try and get me off, but because he thought he was failing at it.

“Dax, maybe you could…”

He stopping what he was doing instantly, his gaze rivetted to my face as he waited for my next instruction. But I saw an immediate problem with my next request. “Wait, hang on a second,” I muttered, then swiftly grabbed the waistband of my boxers and stripped them down my legs. I had to wriggle a bit to get them off my feet, but then I lay back… and had to grin at the awestruck look on Dax’s face. My genitals were nothing particularly impressive to look at, but this was the first time Dax had seen me naked. And apparently, I was making quite the impression.

“Could you use your mouth on me?”

He looked like I’d just told him he’d won the lottery. “Yes, sir!” he chirped, hastily rearranging himself on the bed to be able to bring his face to my groin. He took my flaccid length into his mouth, not at all deterred by my current lack of response.

I moaned at the warmth of him, and then my breath caught in my throat, and I muttered a startled, “Oh, god,” as I found out exactly how talented a dimari was. Aiden had said they were trained to do this, and bloody hell, I really needed to have a look through that blasted operations manual. Holy fuck, he was good at this.

Sure enough, my dick began to thicken, far quicker than I would have expected. It wasn’t just the feel of warm lips and slick tongue against me that was getting me going. It was the look of sublime satisfaction on Dax’s face, the contented little moans he was making, and as I watched, he sneaked his hand down, pressing his open palm against his own erection.

And that’s when it occurred to me that I’d missed one of the major considerations in doing this. “Wait, wait… Dax, hang on a sec,” I interrupted him. He stopped immediately, pulling back with a look of apprehension. It was disappointing to see him expecting criticism so readily, and that just reinforced the idea of how badly I’d let him down so far. It would take time to build trust with him in the long term, with a steady diet of praise and reward, until we finally reached a point where he could relax in the knowledge that I was pleased with him as a general rule, and minor requests for him to adjust his actions were nothing to be feared.

For right now, though, I decided to just leap right in. “I want you to stroke yourself while you do this,” I told him. Heeding Aiden’s advice, I managed to stop myself from asking if he wanted to stroke himself, and simply made it an order instead. “And you’re allowed to come whenever you’re ready. You don’t have to wait for me.” Aiden’s notes had been very insistent about remembering to tell a dimari he was allowed to come. If I didn’t, then he would simply continue to hold himself in an aroused state indefinitely, without ever gaining any relief.

“Yes, sir,” Dax said. His hand was shaking a fraction as he reached for me again, but then he thought better of it and darted off the bed. He stripped off his sweatpants and boxers with quick, efficient movements, then scrambled back over to my side.

And holy fuck, he was hard. His cock curved upwards, a darker blue than the rest of his body, and the head was almost purple. He was leaking fluid from the tip, and he reached down to smear it around, giving himself some lubrication.

Shit, that was something I’d forgotten. There had been a whole pile of other instructions with Aiden’s notes, but the thought of lube reminded me of one part in particular. “Dax, I just want to mention that if I ask you to do anything during sex that hurts, I want you to tell me straight away. My intention here is not to hurt you physically at all, so if I’m doing that accidentally, I need you to tell me.”

“Yes, sir,” Dax said, nodding eagerly. Then without any further preamble, he leaned down and took me into his mouth again.

In this position, hunched over and kneeling beside me, I couldn’t see his cock, just the movement of his arm… and a rogue part of my brain decided that was unacceptable. “Dax?”

He paused again, this time looking more eager about receiving my next instruction, rather than apprehensive about an imminent scolding. “Yes, sir?”

“Could you move around to the side a bit? I want to be able to see you stroking yourself.”

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 at all 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, his hips 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 started working with us. It might be difficult for him to express his desires, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want things.

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 back on 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.

The question seemed to break him out of his daze. “No, sir,” he said, though he sounded far less confident than he had earlier. He lay back slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. It was tempting to just get on with this and hope for the best, to assume that he would enjoy it. But that would be going against a whole raft of ethical standards. As awkward and time-consuming as it might be to ensure he was actually consenting, I was acutely aware that refusing to do so was a very slippery slope. Dismissing one instance of discomfort would make it easier for me to dismiss it the next time it happened, telling myself there had been no lasting damage from the first time, and before I knew it, I could end up running roughshod all over his desires, on the excuse that teasing out his opinion was simply too difficult.

His body language right at the moment was a conflicted mess, weeping erection combined with open confusion. He wasn’t displaying clear discomfort, but at the same time, this was nothing like his eager anticipation, either.

“Were you taught how to go down on someone?” I asked him, trying to find an opening into this conversation.

“Yes, sir,” he said, his tone remaining wary.

“You do it very well,” I praised him.

That earned me a small smile, and the loosening of his shoulders. “Thank you, sir.”

I hesitated, trying to figure out what to say next, when Dax unexpectedly spoke again. “I was never taught… That is, dimari in general are not taught… how to receive oral sex. We were taught that our masters would not deign to perform such an act on us.”

Okay, now we were getting somewhere. Dax was concerned about this because he thought it was beneath me? Was that the only issue, though? “Well, I think that was rather negligent of your trainers, then,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “There are some masters – particularly humans – who would very much enjoy doing this to their dimari.” Was that too much like pressuring him into it? I was trying to tease out his opinion, not insist he do what I wanted.

“Oh!” He seemed genuinely surprised by that.

I tried to figure out how to get him to indicate an opinion, one way or another. “My original intention here was to make sure you can perform the rest of your duties today without being distracted. So would this help that goal, or should I let you finish with your own hand?” It was a very sideways question, and I wasn’t sure it was going to achieve what I wanted it to. But right then, I couldn’t think of a better way to ask it.

Slowly, tentatively, Dax lay back down, parting his legs a fraction wider. “I’m sorry for interrupting you, sir,” he said, as he tilted his hips towards me. “I’m very happy for you to do…” He gave a slight thrust of his hips. “…whatever you think best.”

Well, wasn’t that interesting? I licked my lips and leaned down, watching his expression as I neared his groin. Caution turned slowly to anticipation, and then startled pleasure as I closed my mouth around his head. “Oh, stars,” he muttered, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, sir,” he apologised quickly, before clamping his lips closed.

“Sorry? For what?”

A wave of violet flickered across his scales. “My trainers told me I was…” He hesitated, and the waves of violet got brighter. “They said I was too noisy. Masters do not wish to be interrupted while they’re…”

“I’m developing a rapid dislike of your trainers,” I said, before I could think better of it. “Or maybe they just don’t know anything about what humans like.” That part was certainly true. Dimari trainers had no reason whatsoever to care about the opinions of a species who condemned their bastardly slave trade. But it was imperative that Dax not find out about that. “If you want to express your enjoyment of this, that’s perfectly fine.” I phrased it carefully, to give Dax permission to do so, but steering well clear of an order to have him perform a particular role. I didn’t want to accidentally order him to be moaning in pleasure the whole time, as that would mask any of his attempts to express discomfort or reluctance.

“Yes, sir,” he said, sounding a little baffled, and I decided to skip any further explanation for the time being. His erection was waning, and engaging him in extended discussions about all the details of this was going to defeat the purpose of blowing him in the first place. Without another word, I bent down and took him into my mouth, intent on getting the job done without further interruption.

He hardened quickly in my mouth, and I moaned as I felt my lips stretch around him. He muttered an occasional encouragement, always stopping short of giving me an order. To a dimari, exclaiming ‘Oh, yes!’ was perfectly acceptable, while saying ‘Harder!’ was a violation of strict training.

Within minutes, Dax was panting and writhing on the bed, his legs flung wide and his knees drawn up. A strangled yelp leapt from his lips, and then I was tasting him over my tongue, swallowing rapidly as his hips jerked and his fists gripped the sheets.

I drew back, feeling supremely satisfied as I stared down at his sated body. He was sprawled halfway across the bed, his head near the bottom, his legs still parted wantonly as his cock softened. I wanted to ask him if he’d enjoyed it, but knew the question would be useless. Instead, I waited a few moments for him to catch his breath, then gently tugged on his arm. “Come on, scootch around this way,” I said, encouraging him to rearrange himself so that his head was on one of the pillows. I snuggled in beside him, pulling the blankets up over us, then tucking him in against my shoulder. “I think we’ve earned a snooze before it’s time to get up,” I said, just to make my intentions clear.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, sounding dazed. “Thank you, sir.”

I smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. My little dimari was turning out to be thoroughly adorable.