Page 44 of The Barn: Frost and Q
“Play it by ear,” he agreed, his voice hiccuping when Frost’s forearm grazed his cock.
“Mmm, somebody likes that.”
“Of course I do. What about the blindfold?”
“What about it?” Frost asked, staring into his eyes.
“Are you going to use it tonight?”
“Not right away. You’re a little too tense.”
“I’m trying not to be.” He took a deep breath, and then he let it out, remembering that it helped release everything in his spine and his neck.
“I know that, boy. Don’t worry; there’s plenty of play for us to get up to.”
“That’s good. I like to play, but then I also like you to put me in my subspace.”
“I know, and I plan to.” Frost put a hand on his belly. “I want you to feel me here today. I want it to pull a little bit. I want everything to be intense.”
He almost choked on his own damn spit from that. Quentin sputtered a little bit, his hands clenching, his toes curling. “I like intense.” And it was true; he liked it more than he had even a couple of weeks ago. He was learning to deal with his body, and he was also learning that there was no shame in having to use his slow down or stop words. It wasn’t personal, and it wasn’t emotional. It was all physical.
“So the tape is okay on your ankles?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s like being bound, but without being held down.”
“Good. I like that.” Frost picked up the feather, twirling it between his fingers. “So now we’re going to start with just a little bit of sensation, and we’ll work our way up.”
Quentin took a deep breath, another one, and nodded. “All right, Sir. I’m ready when you are.”
“That’s what I want to hear, baby, but don’t brace yourself. Just relax and lean into it. Breathe.”
“Mmmhmm.” He closed his eyes. It wasn’t a blindfold; he could open them whenever he wanted and see what was happening, but he wanted it to be a surprise. That was the onlyway he could just lean into it and not anticipate what Frost was going to do.
His reward was Frost running the feather down from his forehead across his nose and then over his lips, the featherlight touch. It made his lips purse and made more goosebumps rise up on his body. It was too much and not enough all at once.
Frost chuckled softly and then brought the feather down his chin and around to his jaw, circling his ear, so gently.
Goosebumps raised up over his body, and he fought to keep his breath even.
The bullet had gone in on the other side, right behind his ear. There was a little indentation back there. The spot that one of the nurses in the hospital had called his angel mark.
“It’s where the angel kissed you, because there was no reason you shouldn’t have died. Your guardian angel kissed you there.”
Now wasn’t the time to think about that, though. Now was the time to think about nothing, to simply breathe and feel the tip of that feather slide down his neck and make patterns over his collarbones. His nipples drew up into taut nubs, like they were begging for the sensation, for a touch. Like they were calling for Frost.
The feather traveled down, circling one of his pecs, making slow, concentric circles. He chuckled because he caught himself moving his head in time with the spiral. He couldn’t help it; he was totally focused.
Frost wasn’t laughing. It wasn’t stopping him, so he figured whatever he was feeling and doing must be all right.
Before the feather touched his nipple, though, the circles began to go the other way, to get bigger and wider before going to the center of his chest and slipping down to tease his belly button. His body felt like it was on fire, like it was burning a little bit. And his toes curled as he tried to decide what the sensation he was experiencing actually was.
“You have the prettiest belly,” Frost murmured.
“Thank you. I’m aching for you some, Sir.”
“I can see that. It’s a good look for you—hard, dripping a bit. Your nipples are dark. Almost like they want a quick bite or a good hard sucking.”
There was no lie detected there.
