players only. takes place the day after Louis and Bradley sign their contract.
continued from here
Louis nods. "Of course." He quietly opens the door, careful to keep Bradley tucked in against him and moves them towards the chairs, taking a seat in one and pulling Bradley down into his lap. From here, they can see everything.
Safely cradled in Louis's lap, Bradley is secure enough to stare openly, unselfconsciously, taking everything in. The man's whole hand is disappearing into the raw-looking, stretched hole of the boy, who has his feet up in stirrups, spread wide open, buttocks and arse shiny with lube. The boy is beautiful, too, curly hair and long, pale arms and legs, though his face is wrenched with pain and pleasure.
Bradley can't stop looking at his cock. It's wrapped in black leather thongs, so tightly it looks like it might burst its bonds, stiff and red and resting on the boy's own belly. He's rocking, with the hand pushing into his body, and crying out, and Bradley gets a spike of lust and desire and arousal so hard it hits like a cramp, almost doubling him up, as he digs his fingers into Louis's arm for support.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Louis says softly, holding Bradley still closer, his mouth brushing against his ear as he speaks. "What the human body can take. What it finds pleasure in."
Bradley nods, nearly speechless. He locks his eyes on the way the big man's forearm is working its way into the trembling body of the boy, rhythmic, steady thrusts, gentle but inexorable. He also realizes he can hear the man talking to the boy, a soothing low rumble that gets to his spine and makes him squirm. "Unbelievable," he breathes back to Louis. "It won't, it doesn't hurt him? I mean, damage him. For real."
"No. Not like this," Louis says, shaking his head, one hand sliding up the inside of Bradley's thigh, the cage, hard rigid plastic under Bradley's trousers, making him smile. "Not when the dominant knows what they're doing, takes the time to make sure the submissive is ready, and when the submissive is willing to tell the dominant if anything doesn't feel right."
Louis's hand on him is so distracting that Bradley loses focus on the scene in front of him, squirming as if it'll give his cock some desperately-craved room and friction, turning a little so he can nuzzle Louis's neck where it meets his shoulder. "Someday," he whispers, nearly silently. "Someday, can we do that too?"
Louis nods, his cock throbbing roughly. Suddenly so hard he can barely breathe. "Yes," he whispers back. "It would be my pleasure to do that to you."
Bradley leans in even closer, feeling the way Louis's cock jumps and throbs under his thigh, and licks delicately at the corner of his mouth. "Good," he whispers back. "That's good. Can we...can we go somewhere a little more private now? After all this inspiration, I am getting a bit desperate for a practical demonstration."
Louis chuckles softly. "Even with this on?" he says, stroking firm fingers over and around the rigid plastic. "Knowing you won't be allowed to come, or even get hard."
"Even so," Bradley nods fervently. Anything will be better than this low, agonizing thrum of frustrated arousal that's turning him almost liquid with need. "It'll still be good. So good. You'll make it good, yeah?"
Louis simply smiles and stands, easing Bradley from his lap, their fingers entwined once again as he quietly leads him from the cell. "We'll go to my quarters," he says, guiding Bradley back through the dungeon. "But we're still having dinner in the dining room." The admonition meant as much for himself as for his boy.
"Okay," Bradley nods. That hum of arousal in his body amplifying with every step they take, hand in hand. He doesn't notice the looks they get as they pass back through the main area of the dungeon; he's completely focused on Louis, on the strong fingers holding his own, on breathless anticipation of what Louis might do to him once they're alone.
Louis opens up his quarters, pushing Bradley inside and locking up behind them. He turns on the lights and presses Bradley against the nearest wall, kissing him, aching with desire, any patience for the niceties like showing Bradley his suite long gone. "Want you out of these clothes," he whispers, biting at Bradley's mouth, his hands already making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pulling at his belt.
"Oh yeah," Bradley breathes back into Louis's kiss, pliant under his hands, turning with the pressure as Louis strips him quick and efficiently. He has flashing impressions of Louis's rooms; high windows with rich hangings, hallways branching off the main room, brightly colored cushions and dark, luxurious wood. But most of his focus is locked completely on Louis, and then he's bare, except for the cage, and pressing full-body against Louis's bigger, stronger frame. The slide of cloth against his bare skin is intoxicating, and he gets his arms up around Louis's neck, kissing him back with all the passion this whole tumultuous evening has given rise to.
A few more long minutes of kissing and Louis pulls back, breathing heavily. He nods towards the hall beside them. "Bedroom. Last door. I want you on your hands and knees, ass over the side of the bed."
Face flushing hotly, Bradley nods and then races down the hall, to the last door, and crawls onto the huge, high antique bed. It's gorgeous, like the rest of the things in Louis's quarters, elegant without being fussy and richly colored, but all he can focus on is curling himself up, on his knees and elbows, with just his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. His arse on his heels, naturally spread by the position, his face against the softness of the bedspread.
He can't get hard and he loves that. Right now he'd be mindless with needing to come, he knows it, and instead he's calmer, centered, swimming in subspace without the crazy pressure of orgasm. His cock jerks with every pulse of blood, straining to stand up, but it's a vague and familiar feeling now and he concentrates on the warm, liquid weight of arousal in his belly, the way it seems to loosen his joints, arch his back, spread his legs so much more easily.
"Look at you," Louis breathes, coming into the room. He slowly undresses, taking his time, his cock throbbing hard at the sight of Bradley's cheeks, still reddened and marked and starting to bruise from the earlier paddling session. His clothes set aside, he pulls a bottle of lube from the bedside table and slicks his fingers, pushing two quite forcefully into Bradley's ass.
Bradley's so in tune to Louis that he can hear him enter the room, hears the slide of his clothes coming off, the snap of the cap on the lube. He braces just a little and moans as Louis's fingers shove into him, rough and sudden, nearly pushing him forwards. He presses back, bearing down, wanting Louis inside him as fast as possible. The burn is delicious, and he pants out his breaths, struggling to relax and let him in.
Bradley's so incredibly tight and Louis's head almost swims with the heat, with the intensity of his own desire. He fucks Bradley a few times with those fingers, adding a third almost too quickly, his cock throbbing again when Bradley cries out. "Open up and let me in," he orders, curling all three fingers to stroke across Bradley's prostate.
"I'm trying, I'm trying," Bradley chants quietly, breathing hard. The bruised, aching muscles of his arse are protesting this new invasion, and he twists his hips, desperately attempting to force his sphincter to relax, ease, stop the burning clench that's trying to force Louis's fingers back out of his body. He makes himself breathe deeply, and bear down again, and finally he eases.
"Good boy." Louis smiles and strokes over that sensitive bundle of nerves again and again, waiting until Bradley's body opens even more before working a fourth finger in along the first three.
Maybe it's the angle, or the change in shape, but Bradley *always* struggles with four fingers. He arches up a little, breathing heavily through his nose, fighting to keep from crying out and pulling away from the intense burn, back so quickly after he'd loosened up. He tries to focus on the torturously pleasurable touches on his prostate, but without an erection, the burn is so much more intense that he can't help but give in to the cries trapped in his throat. He moans, whimpers, drops his head and lets the sounds out.
As achingly hard as he is, Louis refuses to be hurried. He scissors and twists and fucks those fingers into Bradley, every small cry, every moan, every whimper only serving to increase the pleasure and anticipation coursing through him. "This is mine," he says, fingers pulled almost all the way out and then pushed back in, deep, deep as they'll go. "Mine. Say it."
"Yours," Bradley cries, instantly obedient, absolutely sincere. "Only yours, just yours. Yours." He twists again on those spearing fingers, moaning, the pain translating itself slowly into mounting pleasure as his nerves get flooded with endorphins.
Louis nods. "Mine," he affirms, pleased, still working his fingers in and out of Bradley's body at the same time as he brings his other hand in sharply against his left cheek.
Shocked, Bradley jerks forward, out of his crouch, forward onto his hands. The slap on his already-bruised backside hurts so sharply that it drowns out the pleasure for a long moment, and his shout is genuinely pained, startled, and he twists to look at Louis with wide-blown eyes.
"Did I say you could break position?" Louis says, waiting and watching to see if Bradley will correct himself.
"N-no," Bradley says, though it's nearly a whimper. He gingerly eases back into his crouch, but he's tense, wary. He had no idea that the paddling earlier had made such an impact, that the bruises would hurt so much when struck again, and he's still waiting for the pleasure to come back. He knows it will. Things that he thought of as torturous, a mere month ago, are now the sources of his greatest pleasure.
"Good boy," Louis praises, pushing his fingers back into Bradley's ass and slapping the other cheek.
Bradley jumps again, huffs a short cry, but manages to stay in position this time. Even the act of controlling his impulse to get away is pushing him further down into subspace, and though Louis's slap hurts, it's more distant this time, more easily ignored. And he presses back against Louis's fingers, nearly purring as his body opens smoothly this time.
"That's it," Louis murmurs, slapping one cheek and then the other, his fingers working Bradley's ass, fucking his hole, stretching him again and again. "Open for me. Show me how much you want my cock inside you."
Bradley is *desperate* for that cock, wants it so badly he can taste it. Longer, smoother, hotter than fingers, so much more satisfying. He presses back harder, working the muscle in his hole, forcing it to relax and accept the intrusion. "Please," he begs brokenly. "Please, I want your cock. Please, sir, please?"
Louis smiles and draws back, slowly, easing his fingers from Bradley's body and reaching for a condom.
Bradley feels Louis's withdrawal and whimpers again, louder. "Please," he begs, voice breaking halfway through the word. "Please don't stop, please fuck me? Don't go..." in his pleasure-fogged mind, the loss of Louis's touch is an utter tragedy.
"I'm not," Louis promises, pressing close again, his thighs against the bottoms of Bradley's feet even as he puts on the condom. "I'm not going anywhere," he says, bending to press a single kiss to the base of Bradley's spine before he's lining up and pushing in, the movement slow but unrelenting.
The touch settles Bradley again, and he breathes easily, until the blunt, thick head of Louis's cock prods into his body. A steady push, just how he loves it; no stuttering or hesitation, just the coring, deep thrust that fills him up, soothes the itching ache inside him, satisfies him like nothing else. Without an erection, the pressure on his prostate is nearly overwhelming, painful, pleasurable, all at once, and he arches his back, breathing like he's running, spreading his knees more to ease Louis's entrance. "Oh yes oh god yes, yes, sir, thank you, thank you," he babbles without any filter.
Louis groans as he pushes all the way in, Bradley's words, the need, the desire behind them, going straight to his cock. "You are so beautiful," he murmurs, running his hands over Bradley's back and down his hips, over his ass and the sides of his legs. "Mon dieu." He pulls all the way out, watching Bradley's body gape for a moment, then back in, before it can close, eyes on his cock as it disappears into Bradley's hole.
The voice is like a warm blanket, wrapping around him, soft and comforting and home. Bradley sighs and leans back into the touch of Louis's hands, the pressure of the cock pushing into him...the delicious slow pressure of it and the way Louis leaves him empty for a long, aching moment before entering him again. "Oh god, yes," he sighs, blissful. His eyes falling closed as he rests his cheek on the bedcover, letting the sensation wash over and through him.
One hand braced on the small of Bradley's back, Louis leans back and watches as he pushes in deep, again and again, Bradley's body welcoming him, over and over, taking him in, stretching to make room for him. He swallows hard, arousal drying his throat, his breathing growing heavier and heavier wtih each thrust. So beautiful.
Louis has the most perfect rhythm, Bradley thinks dreamily. Deep and clean and pure, fucking into him as precisely as a knife, as cleanly. He arches up into each thrust, slipping deeper and deeper into the haze of pleasure that he's giving Louis this, unselfishly, no chance of orgasm. That Louis is using him for his own pleasure like this. It's perfect and it has him shivering with a deep and powerful surge of feeling, just as delicious as an orgasm would be.
"So good for me," Louis murmurs, lapsing into French after that, confident it's the tone not the words that matter. He closes his eyes for a long moment, intent on simply savouring the feel, on the utter perfection of sliding into that tight soft heat with no rush, no hurry, nothing to speed him towards coming, his orgasm on a slow burn, coiling at the base of his spine.
"Wish...wish you could do this forever," Bradley mumbles, voice hoarse, lips brushing against the bedspread as he speaks. His eyes are still closed, and he's just floating, drifting on the lazy, powerful, incredible feeling of it. The friction burns, the pressure of Louis's cock pressing over his prostate is agonizingly intense, but none of it can puncture the coccoon of pleasure and sensation he is in, safe and warm and loved.
Louis nods. "Oui. Forever," he says, both hands going to Bradley's hips after another dozen long slow thrusts, that coil tightening, making itself known. His cock throbbing deep inside Bradley.
Those strong hands holding his hips still have Bradley holding his breath, waiting for it. And then he feels it, the little stutter of Louis's hips, the quickening thrusts. It's close, he can tell, and he clenches down around the cock pushing into his body, tightening everything he can, squeezing Louis's cock to intensify the feelings as much as he can. He gasps as the hard head shoves hard into his prostate, and has one of those strange moments where it nearly feels like he's coming, the waves of feeling passing through him, his muscles contracting though he's never even been hard.
The clenching of Bradley's body makes him gasp and Louis's breath hitches hard again, riding that one moment, that one moment where he could pull back, maybe, if he tried a little harder, and then he's lost, gone, over the edge, his cock pulsing hotly again and again into the latex between them, his fingers tightening, laying down bruises they'll both see for days.
When Louis freezes, his fingers digging so hard into Bradley's hips that he knows there will be marks, Bradley lets out a huge breath, relaxing, easing down, his own body reacting nearly as if he's come himself. He reaches back with one hand, laces his fingers with Louis's where they're locked onto his body, craving the fingers-to-fingers touch and connection. He's startled to realize he's nearly crying again; though quiet and slow, this had had just as much intensity as the spanking he'd gotten days ago, and has had the same emotional upheaval following after.
"Good boy," Louis whispers, giving Bradley's fingers a squeeze. "Give me a minute and we'll get you under the covers," he says, easing slowly out and disposing of the condom, reaching for Bradley the moment it's in the bin.
"Tired of the condoms," Bradley mumbles, shifting as Louis moves, resenting even that short moment when they're apart. "You said, we can, testing, right?" His mind isn't working on all cylinders yet, but he crawls eagerly under the covers with Louis the moment they're untucked and held open for him. His cock is wet with precome inside the cage, a passing irritation that he'll deal with later; right now he wants to curl up against Louis, close his eyes, and bask in the feeling.
Louis nods, kissing the top of Bradley's head. "We can even do it here," he says, thinking he's never wanted anything more. "We have our own lab which processes the results." Smiling a little at how that must sound. "The ultimate in confidentiality."
"That's brilliant," Bradley chuckles tiredly, nuzzling in under Louis's chin, loving this feeling of being cherished. Feeling very young, small, fragile, too, in stark contrast with how roughly Louis treats him. He's not sure why one and the other are so closely related, but he's not going to worry about it now, just enjoy the feeling and let Louis hold him close. "Let's do that, can we? Then you can come inside me...it'll be so good..."
Louis's softening cock gives a throb and he nods again. "I'd like that very much," he whispers. "Being able to simply take you wherever I want... mark you like that..."
"Not have to pull out and go toss the johnny in the trash," Bradley continues, smiling against the skin of Louis's throat. "Keeping it in me, nice and hot, after you've gone."
Mon dieu. "Keep talking like that and we'll never make dinner," Louis teases, kissing wherever he can.
"Bollocks to dinner," Bradley says, only to be interrupted by his stomach growling, as if on cue. "Oh dear." He laughs, hiding his face in Louis's chest. "I need to clean up, though. I think I was leaking a bit at the end. That's...that's normal, right?" The reading he's done said that sometimes pressure on the prostate can express fluid even without an erection, but he's always more comfortable if Louis confirms these things.
"Completely normal," Louis reassures him with another kiss. "Do you need any help?"
"I wouldn't mind," Bradley confesses. As if he would ever turn down Louis touching him, especially as he's nearly boiling over with hours of repressed, tightly controlled arousal. Plus, "It can be awkward, trying to get in there. You'd almost think they made it so's you couldn't touch your cock." He makes a face.
Louis laughs. "Did you want to take a shower or simply to dry things?"
"Can you dry things without taking a shower?" Bradley glances at Louis curiously, slowly but surely coming back up from subspace, feeling tired, but more alert than before. "It'd probably be best to wash off, yeah, before dinner? So I look okay for dinner in public and all." His fine, straight hair turns into a mares-nest at the slightest provocation, so he knows he probably looks more than a little disheveled right now.
"You can use tissues, like you do when you use the washroom," Louis answers, "but we could probably both use another shower." Gently nudging Bradley in the direction of the bathroom. "Go ahead and get it started. I need to get some clean towels from the linen closet."
"Mmmkay." Bradley stretches, carefully, feeling all the aches and pains of the long day so far, but pleased with every one of them. He's earned them, after all. Moving gingerly, he swings himself out of the huge bed, catching himself with a hand when the drop is farther than he'd expected. "This is one ridiculously big bed," he tells Louis, smiling, heading for the washroom. "If I were any shorter, I'd need a stepladder to get in it!"
Louis laughs. "I'm sure I could find you a stepstool if you'd like," he says, pulling another set of clean towels from the linen closet in the hall.
"I said *if* I was shorter," Bradley answers, a little severely. "I might not be a giant like *some* people in the room, but I'm not some...some hobbit, needing ladders and stools for everything." He turns the water on, admiring the palatial washroom as he waits for it to run hot. Everything in Louis's life is gorgeous, rich, expensive, he reflects. Highest quality, greatest luxury. He is still curious about how such a man had ended up with a streak of loneliness that is quite clear to Bradley's eyes, but won't ask. Not yet.
The water nice and hot, he hops in, not waiting for Louis to arrive. Needing to be clean, get the sweat and other fluids off himself. The cage is awkward, and for the first time tonight, he wishes it were gone.
"I know. I was teasing you again," Louis says, setting the towels beside the shower and stepping in to join Bradley. "Unwisely perhaps?"
"Well. Maybe not unwisely," Bradley smiles a welcome at him, moving aside to give him room under the delightful hot spray. "One of the reasons I didn't go into professional football was my size, though. Can be a bit of a sore spot. I knew you were teasing me, though, and I didn't take it badly or anything. "
"I'm glad to hear it," Louis says, smiling and kissing Bradley on the mouth. "So. If you could have easily chosen between acting and football, would football have won out?"
Bradley's smile widens, delighted, at the kiss, a little domestic thing that means so much. "I don't really know," he says after a moment, soaping himself up efficiently. "I love what I do, love the work. And I know that footballers have short careers, and that I can still play for fun, with my mates. I get to have a bit of both worlds, this way. I think...I think I'd still have chosen acting. It'd have been a lot harder, though, making that call."
Louis nods. "I never thought of doing anything else," he says, considering his own career choice. "As soon as I was eighteen, I signed up for the training program - did my business degree alongside."
"The family business," Bradley nods, turning his face into the spray. "I'd absolutely no desire to be a barrister, myself, so I was saved *that* decision." He rinses, turns to Louis, curious. "You didn't have a gap year? Just go kicking about the world, trying different things? Must have been...different, having focus like that."
"No." Louis shakes his head, finally starting to wash up as well. "I knew I'd have lots of opportunity for travel, and to set my own hours, pursue my own interests..." He shrugs.
"Huh," Bradley responds, processing that. "You've a singular kind of mind, then, dedicated your whole life to one thing. I've only met artists like that before, and musicians...though I suppose you're an artist, at that," he grins at Louis. "Even if you paint in bruises and not in inks."
That gets a laugh. "I've never thought of it that way before," Louis says, kissing Bradley again. "Although I do adore a blank canvas," he murmurs, eyes twinkling.
"Glad I haven't any tattoos," Bradley murmurs back to him, also laughing, enjoying the kisses and the play. He presses close to Louis, only to be interrupted by the shift and tug of the cage. "Bloody thing," he curses, scratching at it with futile fingers as he pulls back.
"I thought you liked it?" Louis says, amused by the love-hate relationship Bradley seems to be having with the cage.
"I do, except when I don't," Bradley grumbles. "It's, sometimes I just want to feel you, you know? Skin on skin, and it gets in the way. I'm not naked, not really, with this thing on. It's just. Awkward. I like not getting hard till you say, though." He flushes at this confession. "I like that when I'm hard it's YOURS."
"I like that too," Louis says, cupping Bradley's face in his hand, thumb tracing the cheekbone. "Although I can't decide whether I'd rather have you squirm tonight because you can't get hard or because you're so hard it hurts and everyone knows."
Bradley turns his cheek into that caress like a cat, eyes fluttering closed. "Decision between a rock and a--pardon the pun--hard place," he chuckles, though it's a deep sound, raspy with need, and his tongue flicks out to moisten his lips. "Either way, I'm all yours at the end of the night. Body and soul, hard or not."
"Yes, you are," Louis nods, the words touching him deeply. "And I think for now I'll leave you in it," he says, leaning in to kiss Bradley again, tongue delving between his lips and slowly exploring his mouth.
Bradley nods, accepting Louis's decision, and takes his hand off the cage. No use tempting himself. And it'll be easier, he thinks, to deal with all the new things, with all his blood in his brain where it belongs. He tilts his head back to deepen the kiss, before he has to pull back to breathe. "Going to help me get it clean, then?" he smiles up at Louis, eyes sparkling.
"Of course," Louis says, simply soaping up the outside of the cage and letting the soap enter through the openings before pulling down the detachable shower wand. "This might tickle," he says with a grin, spraying the water into the cage.
"Aaaagh!" Bradley yelps, jumping as the water does, in fact, tickle AND sting his sensitive skin. He squirms hard, gritting his teeth as he tries to stay still, grabbing Louis's arm. "Oh that feels so WEIRD," he groans, since the water is the most direct stimulation his cock has gotten since the cage went on, and feels wonderful and terrible simultaneously.
Louis laughs, enjoying watching Bradley squirm. "Hold still," he orders. "I need to make sure we get every last bit of soap or you'll be uncomfortable for a very different reason later."
Following Louis's command, Bradley forces himself to stand still, though the jets of water still make him twitch. He swears he can hear his own teeth grinding. "It has to be clean now," he finally gasps, after endless moments. "There's no more soap, there can't be!"
"Yes," Louis says, eyes sparkling a little. "I do believe it's clean now." And really, if he took a little longer to torment his boy, spray his cock with water way past it being needed, who's to know? He turns off the water behind them, replaces the wand and wraps a towel around himself, reaching for the other to dry Bradley.
Bradley breathes a huge sigh of relief as the torment is ended, finally, and lets Louis wrap him up in the huge fluffy bath towel. More and more, he's enjoying these little ways that Louis cares for him; if a past boyfriend had tried to dry him like a child he'd have been shocked and maybe offended, but he stands happily, quietly, raising his arms and offering himself up for Louis's care and attention. It just seems to fit, with the way they are. The way he looks more and more to Louis for guidance when they're alone together like this, the quiet contentment it gives him to give over control to this man.
The rest of Bradley's body dried, Louis turns his attention to the cage and his cock. He dries the outside with the towel then reaches for a soft tissue, folding it until it's the right size to fit through the openings and dabs at his cock, turning the cage in his hand, gently, carefully, until he's certain Bradley's well dried. "There's baby powder and glaxal base under the sink."
Smiling a little, Bradley nods. "Okay. I think I've got this part down." Naked and unconcerned about it, he finds the powder and the cream, and applies it with practiced fingers. His cock feels much more comfortable, cleaned and dried, but he has to laugh a little at the powder everywhere.
"It looks like a powdered doughnut," he complains smilingly to Louis. "Not exactly sexy!"
Louis laughs. "Everything about you is sexy," he disagrees. "Including that," with a nod of his head at the cage.
"If you say so," Bradley answers dubiously, glancing down with an eyebrow raised. "At least it'll all shake off before I put on my black trousers. I hope!"
"There's a lint brush in the bottom drawer of my bedside table if it doesn't," Louis says, giving Bradley a kiss. "I'm going to get dressed. I think your clothes are still in the sitting room."
"Okay. Time to face the music?" He pulls a face, mostly in fun. Their time together here has settled him again, grounded him, and he's much less nervous about facing all of Louis's coworkers and the other people who are likely to be there at dinner. Also, he's hungry, and the prospect of food does quite a bit to distract him.
His clothes are in the sitting room, right where he'd left them, and he pulls them on without much ceremony, only checking to make sure his still-damp hair is falling smoothly and that his collar isn't wrecked. "Do I look all right?" he asks, a little anxious, still, about making a good impression.
"You look absolutely beautiful," Louis responds. "And everyone will think so." He picks up his wallet and keys, kisses Bradley again for good measure and pushes him out the door, locking up behind them.
Only resisting a little for show as Louis pushes him out the door, Bradley ends up trotting after Louis eagerly, looking around him as they go. They pass through the main hall again, and again he wants to pause and stare, but Louis keeps going into another big room--Bradley wonders how on earth they fit all these great rooms into one building--and this one is clearly set up for dining. He takes in the huge chandeliers casting faceted lights down on tables covered in fine linen and tableware, and filled with people, and crowds in a little closer to Louis's side.
After all, he wants people to know who he's with.
He puts his chin up proudly, just as if he were walking a red carpet, and makes sure he's walking tall at Louis's side. Fighting the urge to gawk at everything he sees.
"Bonsoir," Louis says, greeting the Maitre d' with a wide easy smile. "Table for two, please, preferably where we will be able to see most of the room."
"Of course, Monsieur Garneau," Jean-Claude nods, motioning with a sweep of his hand for Louis and his boy - he's heard the news as well - to follow him and leading them to what he knows to be the best table in the house. "Will you both be dining at the table?"
"Tonight, yes," Louis responds, watching Jean-Claude pull out Bradley's chair.
Bradley blinks at Louis's qualification of his statement, but then looks down the row of tables and sees two naked people on the floor, one man and one woman, licking tidbits out of a single woman's hands. He takes a deep breath, then smiles at the Maitre d', his best 'company' smile. "Merci, m'sieur," he says quietly, and takes the seat he has out for him.
He keeps his gaze locked on Louis, looking to him for cues, and also so he won't be caught staring like a raw country boy.
"Merci, Jean-Claude." Louis takes his own seat and moves it closer to Bradley's. "As long as you keep your voice low and don't point," he says with a smile, opening the menu in front of him, "you can ask me questions about anything you see."
"Okay," Bradley says, voice *very* low. He looks curiously past their tables to the others. There are more than a few people here, eating. In all states of dress and undress, some of them. Then he looks back at Louis, his stomach rumbling. "Are you going to order for both of us?" he whispers, curious about why there's only one menu.
"Yes, but I will ask if there's anything you're in the mood for," Louis says, perusing the specials. "There's a lovely Beef Wellington, Coq Au Vin, Cassoulet... or a simple steak, pasta... our chefs can make you whatever you'd like."
"What's cassoulet?" Bradley asks, turning again to watch the room. "How did the fellow know to just give you a menu? Couldn't I have been a mate of yours, in for dinner, and needed a menu, too?" He's curious how everyone seems to just *know* who he is and what he's doing there, when Louis hasn't talked to anyone since that Phillipe man, earlier.
"It's a stew or a casserole, with duck and different sausages and white beans. It's slow-cooked in a special pot and it's very good, and they know because I sent over our contract this morning and word has spread," Louis says with a smile, rather amused by how quickly the news has travelled through the castle.
Bradley laughs a little, shaking his head. "Worse gossips than on a show set," he informs Louis, "and that's saying something. One day and everyone knows who I am? And this is a huge place!" Since it's clearly no secret, he leans sideways and gives Louis a quick, soft kiss, thrilling that he can do it here with all these people around. "I think I'd like to try that cassoulet thing," he says, grinning as he pulls back.
Louis smiles at the kiss, so incredibly happy to have Bradley here with him. His boy. "And I'll have the Coq au Vin," he says, motioning to a server standing a little ways away, politely waiting for them to decide he's needed. "Would you like some wine as well?"
"Absolutely," Bradley nods. "It's kind of a celebration, right? We're here together for the first time. I think it deserves some wine." He smiles at Louis. He glances sideways at a naked boy, on a woman's lap, eating from her fingers. Beside them is a man with a girl on the floor in a dog collar and leash, and she has...a tail? "Does that girl have a tail?" he whispers to Louis.
Louis nods. "It's a plug," he whispers back.
"That's what 'puppy play' is," Bradley whispers back, realizing it, nodding. "That is pretty cool-looking. Floor looks hard, though." He is grateful that he's in his nice comfortable chair.
"Well, that's up to her master," Louis says, still very quietly, ordering their food and some wine, a bottle of champagne to start. "He could give her a small rug or a kneeling mat like the one we use at my place, but obviously this is part of their play or he doesn't want her to be entirely comfortable for whatever reason."
"Maybe she broke a rule," Bradley speculates, though the expression on her face is blissful. Still, so had the boy's when his dom's fist was six inches up his arse, so he's starting to realise that comfort doesn't necessarily equal pleasure, in this place. "My knees are very bony," he informs Louis. As if he hadn't noticed already. "That would leave bruises."
"I like bruises," Louis says, amused.
Bradley blinks at him, then rolls his eyes, grinning. "Right, I keep forgetting. Even on my knees, though? Knees aren't sexy! Well, I never thought they were, anyway."
"I think every last inch of you is sexy," Louis says, entirely serious. "And if I put bruises on your knees, I promise to kiss them better."
"Well." Bradley's momentarily tongue-tied, and blushing, and he ducks his head, smiling. "With that on offer, how could I possibly say no?" He glances around again, to regain his composure. "Does everyone who's a member do this? Sexy things, in public, I mean." He looks at Louis, taking his glass in hand as their champagne arrives, taking a sip. "My mates have all gone on about sex in public, but I was never that thrilled with the idea of people watching. Unless I knew them."
"God, no," Louis says, almost shocked at the idea. "There are those who never visit the clubs - who only interact online - and those who only play behind closed doors. And those who like to watch but never partake." He smiles at the thought. "No. The single most important thing we offer our members is confidentiality - to keep whatever they want kept secret, secret." He pauses, thinking on the rest of what Bradley said. "Do you like watching?"
"Sometimes," Bradley answers, after thinking about it, imagining it. "I think...I think it depends. Sometimes it'd be fun to have people watching, too. I think it depends, really, on who's watching, and where, and things like that. I like that, that everyone's comfortable doing what works for them, here. There have to be so many different things people like to do."
"There are," Louis nods. "And even when you think you've heard or seen it all, someone will still surprise you," he says with a smile, sitting back and patting his lap. "Come sit with me."
Bradley's jaw drops open, but before even a second has passed he's up and out of his chair, sliding into the spot Louis has made for him in his lap. It satisfies something inside him. In front of all these people, he's with Louis. Louis is his, as much as he's Louis's, and a little smile curls the corner of his mouth as he settles in comfortably.
"This is okay?" Louis says, wanting to make absolutely sure.
"Definitely," Bradley answers, nearly purring in smug contentment. Safe in Louis's lap he feels even more free to watch the crowd of people, still sipping his champagne. He has the best seat in the house and he knows it.
"And what about this?" Louis asks, kissing the side of Bradley's throat, lips brushed across the boy's skin.
"Mmmm. That feels lovely," Bradley hums, eyes sliding half-closed as Louis's warm lips brush the tender skin under his jaw.
So far, so good as they say. Louis slides a hand up the inside of Bradley's thigh and lets his teeth gaze the skin of Bradley's throat.
The sharp, cool edge of teeth brings Bradley's attention even further from their surroundings. With Louis's hand on his thigh like that, all his nerve endings light up, and he tips his head back, giving Louis more access. His eyes are nearly closed now and he can see light from the chandeliers sparkling through his eyelashes.
Louis pulls Bradley's shirt from his trousers, sliding his hand underneath, fingers spread over his stomach, skin warm beneath his palm. He bites a little harder, sucks at one spot in particular, the blood welling into a small bruise beneath the surface. Arousal starting to pool again, coiling lightly, both at what they're doing and at knowing they're being watched.
"Ohhhhh," Bradley moans, the warmth of Louis's hand and his body soaking into him. He can feel Louis hardening again under his thigh, shivers with delight that he's the one turning Louis on like this.
As he blinks once, he catches a flash of movement on the periphery. It's their server, setting their dishes discreetly aside, clearly leaving them alone as they are busy. Very polite, very inconspicuous, but it brings their location back to Bradley in a flash, and he sits bolt upright again, sucking in air in a gasp, his eyes wide. He's still cuddled into Louis, but he can suddenly remember all those eyes on them, and he flushes hotly, imagining how he must look to them.
"It's okay," Louis assures him, gently continuing his caresses. "I have you." Kissing Bradley's throat yet again. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks, unwilling to push too hard at Bradley's limits, even the soft ones, this early on, when they're still discovering each other.
Tense, but slowly being soothed back down by Louis's steadying touches, Bradley shakes his head, though his eyes flick nervously over the people surrounding them. "No, no, just...not any further, just now?" There's a genuine plea in his voice. He needs a little time to absorb this, adjust to it...adjust to the fact that he's enjoying it.
"Of course," Louis says with a smile, nodding at the plates with their silver covers in front of them. "Your dinner's here."
Relaxing immediately at Louis's voice and words, Bradley beams a smile at him, anxiety draining away. "That looks amazing," he says, from his comfortable seat on Louis's lap. "Do you...am I too heavy? Do you want me to move?" He doesn't want to move, not at all, but he can see how it might be awkward for Louis to eat, with Bradley perched between him and the table like this.
"No, I don't," Louis answers, although realistically, he'd have an easier time eating his dinner if Bradley did. "I want you to stay here."
Bradley looks from the table to Louis and back, and feels a little doubtful, but he's not going to argue, not when he's deliciously comfortable and exactly where he wants to be. "Okay," he says, "but if you need me to pass you a fork or something, I can totally do that." He leans in and breathes in the steam from his plate, eyes closing blissfully. "Oh this smells SO good. Can I just eat? Is there any kind of protocol, here?"
"No, not this time," Louis says, unable to stop smiling. "Go ahead and eat." His hand soft and warm on Bradley's back, feeling the curve of his spine through his shirt, aware of the eyes still on them. And it's strange. He's never realized how powerful this feeling was. Speculated, yes. Understood intellectually, of course. But the idea that this man, this boy, is his and that others can look all they want but they'll never have him, ever, unless Louis decides to share... He likes it very much.
Bradley beams back at Louis, enjoying every touch, every smile, and digs in to his meal, all the activities of the day catching up to him and his healthy appetite. It's delicious, melting in his mouth, even better than it smells, and though he is careful to stay out of Louis's way so *he* can eat his meal, Bradley is very quickly distracted from their surroundings and any anxiety by the good food, Louis's strong and calming hand on him, the strength of the big body he's leaning against. It makes him feel simultaneously very young and very loved, very protected, and he basks in the sensation.
They eat mostly in silence, both too hungry for words until their stomachs are satisfied. But once the delicious Coq au vin has taken the edge off his appetite, Louis sits back, watching Bradley eat, sipping at his wine. "It's very good, isn't it?"
Bradley is virtually *inhaling* his cassoulet, and is nearly finished when Louis speaks. Wiping his mouth with the fine linen napkin, he nods, and smiles. "Absolutely fantastic," he says. "Of course, I wasn't expecting anything else, not here. Everything is top notch. It's incredible, Louis. Like another world." Where he can sit comfortably on his boyfriend's lap, in full sight of a roomful of strangers, and there's nothing odd about it at all.
"Sir," Louis says, a gentle reminder. "And I'm glad you like it."
Bradley shakes his head, making a face at himself. "*Sir,*" he repeats, "god, you'd think I'd be able to remember one little thing."
"Maybe I'll have to come up with an incentive," Louis murmurs, taking another sip of wine, his other hand still caressing Bradley's back. "Or a deterrent. Depending on which would be most effective."
"I'll remember, I'll remember, sir," Bradley says hastily, though he can't help but grin at the nonchalant way Louis suggests these things, and he can't help but nearly melt and purr as that warm hand keeps stroking him. He drinks his own wine, enjoying the cold bite of the bubbles in the champagne, settling back into the curve of Louis's shoulder and looking around curiously. He can't help but notice that many people seem to be looking back.
"Why are they all looking at us?" he murmurs to Louis.
"Because you're beautiful, and because you're mine," Louis says, leaning in and nuzzling at Bradley's throat. "And because they're jealous," he adds, amused. "Does it bother you?"
"Nah, not really," Bradley admits, tilting his head again to show off his long, pale neck. Lowering his lashes, licking his lips and letting his mouth drop just a little open, as if he's struggling just a bit to get enough air. He's proud of his looks and the fact that Louis seems to enjoy them, enjoy showing him off like this, is staking such a blatant and unsubtle claim, only makes him want to preen a little more, put on a show. "I don't mind them looking, but I think at least half of them are jealous of *me,* he murmurs into Louis's ear.
"That could very well be," Louis says. "Maybe we should make them even more jealous," he suggests, turning his head to kiss Bradley.
Bradley kisses back with enthusiasm, turning in Louis's lap, getting his arms up and twining them around his shoulders. He knows he won't have Louis all to himself, he understands it and accepts it, but there's something deeply satisfying about staking his own claim like this. He only pulls back far enough to whisper his one hesitation to Louis. "Can we, can I leave all my clothes on? Sir?"
Louis smiles. "Of course," he whispers back, sliding his hands up under Bradley's shirt and over his warm smooth skin. "We can leave something to their imaginations," he adds with a grin.
That wicked little glint in Louis's eyes makes Bradley laugh, a full-throated chuckle that's not subtle at all, but he doesn't care. "Yes, let's do," he agrees, arching his back under Louis's touch, trusting the other man to keep him balanced right where he is, half-astride and half-across his thighs.
Louis tugs Bradley even closer, kissing a line down his chin to his throat to where his shirt parts then back up again. "Give me your hand," he whispers, kissing the corner of his mouth, determined to keep this within Bradley's comfort zone. This time.
Warm, aroused, almost liquid with desire, Bradley offers his hand to Louis, eyes falling closed as those kisses roam hot down his throat, over his collarbone, then up again. "Mmmmm." It's a happy sound, contented, even as he squirms as the cage makes itself felt, pressing his cock down from its attempt to stand erect.
"I meant give me your hand," Louis says with a soft laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners as he presses Bradley's hand against his cock through his trousers, groaning softly as he pushes into his cupped palm.
"Oh!" Bradley breathes a quiet laugh, and starts to move his hand, carefully shaping it to Louis's cock. He teases it with his fingertips, a little grin curling one corner of his mouth; he can't get hard, after all, so a tease is only fair, as he gently, lightly feathers touches all up and down the shaft under his hand.
"Mm." Louis lets his head fall back a little, cock growing harder under Bradley's hand. "Next time I'll have you give me your mouth. You can even keep your clothes on," he teases, his hands on Bradley, never leaving him, stroking over his chest now, caressing his nipples, pinching them gently then a little harder.
Bradley chuckles a little at that. "Under the table, so you can chat with your friends at the same time..." he strokes his hand more firmly, twisting his wrist at the top. "I could be down there and no one would know. Except you and me."
Louis groans, his cock throbbing at the thought. "Or you could be in my lap, facing away from everyone, only your ass exposed, everyone watching my cock go into your hole again and again." Wondering if the reaction will be any different if Bradley doesn't have to watch those watching him.
Bradley turns his face into Louis's neck at just the thought, hiding, though he shivers with arousal only lightly tinged with fear. "Could I keep my eyes closed?" His hand tightens around Louis's cock, the slick fabric of his trousers providing only a little extra friction as he strokes.
Louis nods. "Oui." Swallowing hard as the pleasure builds. "Eyes closed, face buried against my neck," he whispers, letting his hands slip down the back of Bradley's trousers, fingers dipping into his cleft.
"I...I think I could do that," Bradley confesses, voice very small, arching instinctively back into the teasing touch of Louis's fingers. He aches, inside, empty and needy, not hard but still so aroused that he's lightheaded with it. "I could do it like that."
Louis's fingers slip lower, rubbing around the rim of Bradley's hole. "Then we will. Soon. But not tonight," he whispers, one hand pulled back, getting his belt unbuckled, his trousers open. Bradley's hand replaced on his bare cock.
Bradley is between Louis and the room, face still tucked into Louis's neck, and as his fingers touch the satin-hot skin of Louis's cock, he moans, low and breathless. It makes his mouth water, makes his heartbeat speed up, and he strokes it firmly, eagerly, his thumb swiping the head, collecting the bead of moisture there, using it to ease his way.
Groaning roughly, Louis pushes the tip of his finger into Bradley, his cock throbbing as Bradley's body clenches down tight on the digit. "Harder. Make me come, boy," he whispers, teeth grazing the side of Bradley's throat.
Bradley's body seizes tight around Louis's finger, contracting, milking it instinctively, and Bradley's hips rock subtly back into that sweet, aching pressure inside him. Louis's whisper spurs him on and he pulls out all the tricks he can, quick stripping pulls, flicking his thumb against the tender underside gently enough to just stimulate, not hurt. He's panting, too, forehead pressed into Louis's forehead, eyes closed, utterly focused on his task.
"Mon dieu, yes, that's it," Louis murmurs, pushing deeper, his breath hitching hard as he comes, hot strands of white painting Bradley's fingers.
As soon as he feels the long pulses start up Louis's cock, Bradley cups his hand over the head, using his fingers to stroke him through it, his palm to catch the streaks of come, some coating his fingers as well. He milks Louis through it, then without even thinking of it, brings his fingers up to his mouth, cleaning up the mess, licking and sucking his fingers and palm clean, eyes still closed the whole time. Body still rocking back on Louis's finger inside him, the dry burn of it a tease.
"Good boy," Louis murmurs, watching Bradley clean his come from his hand. "Make sure you get every last drop." His cock throbbing still, aftershocks rippling through him. "And then I think we'll have dessert back in my quarters."
Suddenly a little overwhelmed again by everything hitting all at once, Bradley doesn't raise his head, but he nods against Louis's shoulder, contented and pleased. "That sounds perfect," he murmurs, careful to lick every streak and drop from his hand. He reaches down, carefully tucks Louis back in, zips him back up. Setting him to rights.
Louis eases his finger from Bradley's body, holding him close, and kisses the top of his head. "Let me know when you're ready to move," he says softly, making sure Bradley knows he has the time he needs to adjust, that they're in no rush.
Bradley breathes deep as Louis's finger leaves him, and as his body slows back down to normal, settles back to baseline. He nods again at Louis's soft words, and finally, after a few long moments, he raises his head, blinking at the light after having had his eyes closed for so long.
"I probably look like I'm the one just had sex," he smiles at Louis. "You've not got a hair out of place, and I look like I've been through a hurricane." His hair is crazy, he can tell, his shirt untucked, his face flushed, lips swollen.
"Have I not mentioned my magical powers?" Louis teases, smoothing Bradley's hair and kissing those flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
[feedback welcome. comments screened.]