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“If you were mine, and if you didn't drink that water like a good boy, I'd hydrate you by,” there was a pause and the man's green eyes crinkled at the corners, a small smirk pulling his mouth into a dangerous slant, “other methods.” The downward glance at Lambert's lap took in the faint outline of his chubby semi. “And I'd say you wouldn't be opposed,” the man continued, the smirk twitching into a satisfied smile. Lambert felt like his face would combust, his mind catching up to the implied method of hydration.
He'd been sporting the semi since he'd arrived, mentally flinching between absolutely writhing in second hand embarrassment at attending this ‘munch’ and, nearly as strongly, feeling the magnetic draw of contemplating an entire side to sexual relations which he had never explored. The plethora of sex he'd indulged in as a young man in his prime meant he'd never bothered, perhaps to the point of specifically avoiding, seeing what lay beyond the vanilla curtain. Besides, Geralt had seemed to have had that particular corner of the market covered, Domming his way through his early twenties.
Lambert twisted his pent up shame and arousal into a hot bar of temper, answering with a smirk of his own, then deliberately swallowed the last of his mug of beer, fixing his own gaze to match the intensity of those green eyes. “Make me.” The words came out in a low growl, and the middle finger extended up the side of his mug never failed to clarify his meaning in the past. It was not, however, a thoroughly thought out response, considering the clientele of this little get together. But it was his default defense.
The other man grinned even wider, just a touch of cruelty tracing his lips now. In a movement almost too fast to follow, at least in his buzzed state, the full glass of water was tipped into Lambert’s lap. “What the fuck!?” he yelled, jumping to his feet, trying to dump the water that puddled at his groin onto the floor. Grabbing the stack of napkins off the table, he attempted to blot the mess. Thoroughly distracted, cursing, he barely registered the movement as the other man sauntered away.
Still cursing, face burning as he avoided looking around the bar, Lambert waddled to the men’s room attempting futilely, he realised now, to save himself from the ‘I look like I pissed myself’ look, but was actually the ‘this is the result of a humiliating powerplay from a smoldering hot Dom that cornered my vanilla ass at a munch’ look. Muttering threats under his breath, he burst into the bathroom and pushed headlong into the very person who’d instigated (OK, if he was honest, he was the one who instigated, the other just finished) the entire humiliating experience.
Warm hands halted his rush with pressure around his biceps, just barely caging him in, palms flat, hands open. “You!” Lambert spat, hearing the familiar bar of anger break again in his voice.
“You flirt like a brat, just begging to be taken in hand,” the green eyed stranger growled, his voice dripping with put-upon patience, slowly sliding an open hand down Lambert's arm, then his waist, finally curling around to put pressure on his aching cock. It had taken all the wetness and frantic blotting to mean there were sexier times ahead. Stupid, stupid, cock! Lambert raged in his head, standing frozen and docile, like hypnotized prey under the firm touch.
Possessively, the stranger traced the hardness of Lambert's cock through wet denim. The other hand left his bicep to curl up under his chin, lifting slightly. Their gazes met, and Lambert felt a frission of heat race down his spine, pooling in his cock. The pressure of gentle fingers tracing his length felt like it was directly tapped into his nerves, pulsing closer and closer to the crest. “Looks like my good boy had an accident,” the soft sarcasm couched in more of that instigating patience, the words prickling under Lambert’s skin. “Should have obeyed, there are much more pleasurable ways to play. The only accidents would be on purpose.” Lambert whimpered then convulsed, peaking under the sturdy pressure on his cock, his mind filling in the absolutely filthy details of what exactly the Dom would like to do to his body.
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