Chapter 7

With a low laugh, Luther nodded toward my tie. “Take it off if you don’t want it ruined. I know how fussy you are about your silks.”

His words were both arousing and irritating. Letting Luther take control was a high, but there was always a moment before I gave in that I couldn’t help resisting. To put me in the submissive mindset, he’d say things like this. Call me adorable, which I wasn’t. Tease me about being uptight until I needed to prove him wrong.

Jerking at my tie, I pulled it free, then let it fall to the floor. My stomach twisted as I considered the work that had gone into crafting the fine piece of fabric, acquired from an ethical company I’d supported at its founding. The intricate pattern in the fine silk was hand woven over months. I’d traveled to India to make sure the labor standard were up to par and was impressed with what the company was doing for the community. Only a piece of material, but I wasn’t able to detach myself from it as I did so easily with people.

Luther bent down and picked up the tie. “Don’t ever do that again. I was teasing you, Xavier. I know how much everything you wear means to you.”

“They’re just clothes.” Still, I watched him set the tie on the counter, fisting my hand by my side so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and neatly fold it. “I enjoy your passion.”

“You enjoy my restraint more. Over you and myself.” Luther stepped up to me and reached for the top button of my shirt. “Today wasn’t a day for you to dress in what you’d consider ‘casual wear’.” He slipped one button free of the fine, ivory-white cotton. “Taking this off you is like removing armor, piece at a time, and I know exactly what it does to you.”

I pressed my eyes shut as he undid another button. Carefully. Too careful for some. Torn fabric and buttons flying, was always portrayed as so much sexier, but the way he slipped every smooth mother-of-pearl button through the hole stole the urge to take over. It was as though the buttons remaining attached, the material undamaged, grounded me. Brought me to where I’d be able to surrender without a fight.

Not that I didn’t enjoy the fight at times. When Luther came to my room in the middle of the night, while I was lounging in my bed in nothing but boxers, I enjoyed giving him a bit of a challenge. My physical activity was always so tame. Running on a treadmill. Lifting weights and doing cardio according to my trainer’s strict regime. When Luther had begun exploring his control over me I’d realized I enjoyed a bit of wrestling. Being held down. Being taken.

What he was doing now was something else.

“There we go.” Luther finished with the last button, then eased the shirt off my shoulders, freeing each arm in a smooth motion. He laid the shirt next to the tie. “When you’re with Alec, put on a pair of jeans. Take yourself out of your comfort zone.” His hard look killed any protest. “Take the next step, Xavier. Don’t wear the armor with him, he doesn’t know how to get past it. Give him you. Completely raw. He needs to be able to trust you, but that trust has to be given as well.”

Inhaling slowly through my nose, I nodded once. “I will.”

“Good.” Luther undid my belt, set it aside, then slipped the button of my pants free, holding my gaze. “Do you have any idea how precious your surrender is to me? I know what it costs you. I know you see being vulnerable as a weakness. But you’re strong. So much stronger than you know. And that’s where I failed. Because I never made sure you did.”

As he bent down to lower my pants, waiting as I stepped out of one leg, then the other, I wondered how he could maintain his dominance while tending to me like this. My butler helped me dress at times, when I was in a hurry, listening to details about a new business partner while my assistant transcribed my responses to emails and messages. He’d quickly button my shirt and fix my tie while my mind was caught between a dozen different tasks.

A detached routine I’d become accustomed to. This with Luther was new. And once I was standing there, facing him in nothing but my boxers, while he remained fully dressed, there was no way I was giving out orders.

Hands still fisted by my sides, I watched him warily as he stepped away and went to the cupboard, pulling out a small tub. My brow furrowed when I realized it was coconut oil.

Are we baking?

His lips slanted. “We’ve improvised before, Xavier. Remember the conditioner in my college dorm?”

“There were no alternatives.” I wet my bottom lip with my tongue as he opened the tub of oil, white and solid, with a slightly sweet scent that reminded me of piña coladas. “There are plenty in my room.”

“But we’re not in your room.” Luther scooped out a bit of oil on his finger, bringing it to my chest and letting it melt on my skin. “I love the scent and I want it all over you. I want to slide against you, inside you, and know that you’re covered in nothing but what I’ve put there.”

His finger slipped over my nipple and I hissed in a sharp breath. I didn’t know how to react to Luther slowly attending to every inch of my skin, heating it with his touch, softening it with the oil. The sensation was luxurious, the glide of his fingers mesmerizing as he spread the oil over my chest, up over my shoulders, down to my pecs, my ribs, my stomach. I jerked when he reached my hips, leaning against the counter as he knelt and hooked his slick fingers to the edge of my boxers. He eased them over my swollen erection, letting them fall as he turned his attention to my thighs.

Fully exposed, my dick strained forward, aching for his touch, but he ignored it. He set the tub of oil on the floor by his knee, continuing to massage it over my skin, covering my thighs, my knees, his lips close to my cock as he reached down and slicked the oil over my shins and feet.

On his way back up he smoothed the heated liquid over my calves. Then the back of my knees, which had my legs shaking. I put my hands behind me, bracing myself on the counter as his hands stroked over the back of my thighs. My ass clenched, but he didn’t touch it.

Instead, he rose and cupped my cheek again, smiling at me. “Don’t try to anticipate what I’ll do next, Xavier. I like keeping you off guard.”

“And torturing me, it seems.” I swallowed as he massaged my shoulders with his slick hands. “Why are you doing this?”

Luther kissed me, a soft press of his lips, gliding his hands down my arms, then wrapping his hands around my wrists. “I was remembering our first time. You were so full of self-hatred before that, you wouldn’t even touch me anymore. You’d defied your father after a few kisses. Told him you loved me. Then struggled to make it on your own. Found someone willing to support you and suddenly love didn’t matter anymore. If I’d known that night what would happen after, I’d never have let you go.”

“Neither of us would be where we are today if I hadn’t made that sacrifice.”

“No, but we’d be together. And you wouldn’t still be tearing down all those walls you put up.”

“I don’t know who I’d be, Luther. My father tried to destroy me. He failed. That was all that mattered.”

Curving his hand around the back of my neck, Luther pressed his forehead to mine as he tightened his grip. His eyes had gone dark. Hard. “I would have protected you.”

I pressed my eyes shut. “But I wasn’t ready to let you.”