Page 60 of Sapphire Spring

“Is this what you want?” Someone else had spoken thesewords, some growling animal Naser had drawn forth from Mason’s soul.

One tap.

More. Naser wanted more.

Mason felt power, pure power. But it came in a surge, thencrested.

Because Naser’s grip on Mason’s calf was a reminder thispower could be taken away in an instant. It had been given. Not an entitlement,not an inheritance, but a blessing and a gift.

A test, Mason reminded himself.

Naser was pushing them close to the edge. Seeing if Masoncould be yanked back at just the right moment. No other explanation made sense.If Mason couldn’t maintain the perfect balance, if he overshot the mark, lefteven the slightestbruiseor lost himself in some fitof uncontrolled passion—if the bully he’d been all those years ago seized toomuch control—he would never have this again, never have the mouthwatering sightof Naser Kazemi, heaving and sweaty and beneath him. And that was out of thefucking question. Inconceivable.

“Is this what you want? Myfucking footon your throat?”

“Yes,” Naser whispered.

“Is this what you want, you little fa…”

Woah, woah. No, no.He was about to blow this wholething, and in the wrong way. It wasn’t hisfirst timedoing role play like this. For willing partners, male and female, he’d actedout fantasies involving brutish and punishing doctors and teachers, and yes,even bullies like the one he’d been in high school. But this was Naser!Invoking that old slur, the very one he’d coughed and muttered under his breathwhen they’d passed Naser in those cinderblock hallways, would be too far. Waytoo far. But Naser didn’t bat Mason’s punishing foot away, didn’t roll to oneside, sputtering angry, lust-free curses. Rather, the fear in Mason’sexpression brought a smile to Naser’s face.

“Say it,” Naser whispered. A taunt, a dare. Mason realizedhe’d instinctively lightened the pressure he was placing on Naser’s throat. Nasertightened his two-handed grip on Mason’s calf. “Say it,” he whispered again.

“Is this what you want, you little faggot?”

Naser bit his lower lip, then gave a lazy grin that saidsatisfaction.

Mason felt both shamed and purged, and it was all Naser’s doing.By making him repeat the old slur when his voice was thick with desire, hiscock half hard and throbbing from the sight of Naser naked and pinnedunderfoot, he’d made a mockery of that hateful word. Exposed it as Mason’sgruff and childish attempt to dismiss his own desires. An attempt that had, a decadelater, spectacularly failed. Together, they’d tossed that vile word into thesimmering brew of their desire, melting down everything inside of it that hadonce seemed solid, rigid.

The contradiction of it all made Mason’s head spin.

He was desperate to please the man below him, but to do it,he’d have to drag the bully he’d been from his cage and set him free.

Not free, he realized.

Leashed.

On a leash Naser held in both hands.

“Answer me,” Mason said, but what he thought was,Tellme I’m doing it right. Tell me I’m givingyou what you want.“Answer me, you little faggot.”

Naser lifted Mason’s foot an inch from his throat andswallowed his big toe. A hard, mean, angry suck that started with pain, thenturned into something wetter and wilder. Insane, really, that Mason should besurprised by this response, but the unexpected pleasure of it arced up his leg.In an instant, he’d gone from pretending he was about to crush Naser’s voicebox to struggling to keep his balance as Naser unleashed a wild, slick assaulton Mason’s entire foot. Long, wet licks down the center, from ball to heel,followed by another, another, and another. Little nips like the one he’d lefton Mason’s ankle a few seconds before.

Now it was Mason’s turn to draw wicked pleasure from thecontrast between their old versions and the men they’d become. Naser, once soprim and proper. Naser, who walked with an unassailably upright posture andspoke the King’s English, had been reduced to a slobbering little beast whocould only manage to growl the words “big fucking feet”overand over againas he worked.

“Dirty boy.” Mason wanted it to be a growl, but it came outfilled with wonder and awe. “Such a dirty, fuckingboy.”

In response, Naser bit the ball of Mason’s foot, hard enoughto sting. Then he licked toward the center and swirled. Mason had neverrealized how sensitive the spot was. Once Naser realized this, his tongue did awild flicker as he tightened his grip on Mason’s calf. It was a struggle tostay standing now, and the gasping breaths that came from him put the growlingbully he’d just released back inside his cage. What had seemed like a powerfulweapon a second before—his big left foot andall ofthe weight he could have shifted onto it in a second—had been exposed as a bundleof sensitive and easily manipulated nerves, capable of reducing alpha dog Masonto a giggling, gasping mess.

Finally, Mason’s eruptions had Naser laughing under hisbreath. He returned Mason’s foot to the carpet, sucking in a long, deep breaththat left his nostrils flaring and chest heaving. His lips were slick with hisown spit, and between that and his sparkling eyes, he looked as if Mason’s foothad been covered in some glaze of sugar and caffeine that had left him bothsatiated and wild.

For a while, they just stared at each other, as if theyneeded a beat to process what they’d turned into, what they’d become. What they’dalways hungered to be.

Naser reached up and slapped Mason across the back of hiscalf.

Once for keep going.

Suddenly, Naser felt himself goairborne. The bedding let out a soft woosh as he landed, Mason’s hot palmsreleasing his armpits.

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