Independence Fatigue (Marisburg Chronicles 3)

Independence Fatigue (Marisburg Chronicles 3)
Emily Carrington
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Emily Carrington

They were looking at a safe, secure website for BDSM and Peter felt his stomach clench a little more as he read through the “For Beginners” menu. It covered things like “Doms VS subs,” “Safe words,” and “The sub is Actually in Charge.”

In his experience, that last wasn’t true. Abe gave over all control when Peter played dominant.

It was the idea of being submissive that turned Peter on. But they’d accepted their roles, right? And it said here while a dominant could and should train as a sub first, a true submissive couldn’t be a permanent dom.

For Peter, that was certainly the case. Every time he had to pretend to be dominant, his heart pounded in his chest, and he feared he would hurt Abe accidentally.

And besides all that, he loved the idea of being tied up and spanked. Not by just anyone, either, but by his beautiful, perfect lover.

He’d wanted that once before, to be submissive in the bedroom. Maybe that was one reason his marriage to Megan had gone so badly four years ago. He’d wanted to be dominated in bed and she’d said, “I’m no one’s mistress. A mistress is someone you pay to do things like that.” He hadn’t brought it up again.

But now, could he have a second chance?

Abe touched Peter’s knee and Peter jumped, startled. He loved being touched but he’d been so wrapped up… He shook his head to clear it and met his beloved’s dark, nearly black, eyes. And as often happened when he’d been living in the past too much, he was freshly amazed and aroused by Abe’s delicately precise Japanese features. Abe, pronounced Ah-bay after the Japanese poet and playwright, Kobo Abe, was Japanese American. He had extensive family out west, a sister down south, and a niece at the school for the deaf where Peter taught. Abe was a veterinarian. He kept his hair short because, he said, he didn’t want to mess with it on a day when he’d have to go into surgery. He loved healing animals and that took precedence over what he called “wavy locks” as he tugged playfully on Peter’s shoulder-length brownish-blond hair.

Abe took his hand off Peter’s knee so he could use American Sign Language to communicate. “What are you thinking?”

Lying didn’t jive with the honest relationship they’d always had, but Peter didn’t want to admit his sub tendencies. So, he confessed another truth. “I hate it when I start thinking about Megan, even if it’s only for a moment,” he signed back.

Abe frowned. It was adorable. “What brought that on?”

“Can we talk about it later?”

Abe reached out and shut off the computer. “Yes,” he signed. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Peter wasn’t entirely sure he hid his feelings of tension as he nodded and stood.

Abe rose also and gripped Peter’s bicep briefly. Then his hands flew. “I was thinking… No BDSM tonight. Just lovemaking. I miss the sweetness.”

Peter kissed him.

And even though the kiss was supposed to be quick, a simple show of thanks, it turned instantly hot as Abe pressed against him and ground his crotch against Peter’s thigh.

Peter scooped his beloved up. He couldn’t actually make it all the way up the stairs with Abe in his arms. Slight the other man might be, and Peter had a bodybuilder’s physique, but Abe was weighty with muscle. Still, Peter’s grandiose gesture got Abe to laugh.

Which Peter couldn’t hear. But he could see the way Abe’s teeth flashed and the sparkle in his dark eyes as those same almond-shaped orbs squinted in enjoyment.

He carried Abe all the way to the bottom of the stairs and set him down on the first riser. Peter cupped Abe’s face with both hands. He resumed the kiss.

When he drew back, Abe reached between them and touched Peter’s crotch. Then he grinned wickedly and squeezed just a little.

Peter caught his lover’s hand and brought it to his lips. Then he signed, “Let’s get upstairs before we decide to strip right here.” He made a show of looking around before adding, “And you know Tracks will watch us if we do that.”