Teach Me Tonight

Chapter 1-3

Hardy motions for Luke to go first, and Luke goes down and into a dark room. Behind him, Hardy turns on the lights with a flick. Luke blinks a few times, getting accustomed to the brightness.

Luke gawks at the room. It doesn’t look as he thought it would, he concludes. Thinking about a b**m playroom, Luke envisaged dark walls, crimson decoration, and black metal furniture with lots of leather. Inside Hardy’s playroom, the only thing he imagined correctly is the leather.

The walls are as far from dark as they could be, either covered by floor-to-ceiling mirrors or plain white paint. The entire surface of the floor is padded with mats, cushioning their steps. b**m paraphernalia hang from hooks or are kept on steel shelves. That’s a trend, too: the steel. From the shelves to the St. Andrew’s cross against a mirror and the four-poster bed with white silk sheets, everything is made of steel with black leather.

All spread out in the room, all types of b**m furniture are scattered: a bondage horse, a spanking bench, a pillory set, a small cage topped with leather cushions. Plus a few other things his internet research didn’t provide him a name for. The crisp smell of citrus disinfectant mixes with the thick scent of leather, refreshing the air.

“Take off your clothes, Luke,” Hardy says, bringing Luke’s attention back to the man. “Fold them and place them next to the door. First your trousers, then pants, then your shirt with your jacket on top, along with your balled socks.”

Luke shreds all his clothing promptly. He folds them as neatly as he can, following Hardy’s orders. When all the items are set aside, Luke turns back to Hardy, naked from head to toe, and erection jutting out. Hardy gives him a thorough once-over, scrutinizing every inch of his body with a smoldering gaze. He pauses for several moments on the snake tattoo that starts at Luke’s pecs and ends at his crotch.

“Such a beautiful boy,” Hardy drawls. Luke’s chest expands with a satisfied breath. “And tonight, you’re mine.”

Hardy steps forward until their chests are only a couple inches apart. He looks right into Luke’s eyes, and the heat in his stare is enough to make Luke shiver. Luke remembers to lower his stare and grudgingly looks down to his own bare feet.

“Stand straight and cross your arms behind your back,” Hardy demands. Luke locks his hands together atop his ass. “Now, some Doms don’t allow their subs to look them in the eyes. I don’t like that. I believe eye contact can be important in sharing unspoken information.” Hardy hooks his index finger below Luke’s chin and raises his head until Luke is staring straight at him. “And, honestly, it’d be a shame to not be able to look in eyes as beautiful as yours.”

A relieved smile breaks across Luke’s face. “Thank you.”

“Nuh uh.” Hardy places a finger against Luke’s lips. “First, you forgot the Sir. Second, you’re not allowed to say anything unless asked to.”

Luke fights the urge to reply. He chooses to simply nod.

“Good boy,” Hardy praises with a smile. “Now, I’m going to touch you. I’m going to touch you any way I want because, even if just for the night, you belong to me. And while I touch you, you shall not move a single finger. You can moan, but you’re not allowed to talk. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Oh, and also, you’re not allowed to come unless I say so.” Hardy’s eyes sparkle with malice.

Luke immediately wants to contest. Not being allowed to come is preposterous. Who even agrees to that? He’s about to disobey the rules again, when Hardy leans down and captures Luke’s mouth with his own.

The first brush of lips sparks a bout of arousal through Luke’s body. The touch is searing and persistent, exuding Hardy’s ownership of him. He takes everything Luke gives him and demands more. Luke’s hands twitch, wanting to come forward and grip Hardy’s jacket, his hair, his ass, wishing to further the physical contact he craves and Hardy is still not giving him.

When Hardy breaks the kiss, Luke can’t help the whimper that leaves his mouth. Hardy doesn’t retreat; instead, he leans into Luke’s personal space, touching his forehead against Luke’s and breathing deeply. Luke sighs at the caress of Hardy’s breath against his sensitive skin.

“God, I’ve wanted to touch you since you walked into the club.” Hardy’s words hit Luke’s mouth. He cups Luke’s cheek, breaching Luke’s lips with his thumb. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Luke whines, wishing he could beg for Hardy to touch him more. If he could, he would. He would already be begging and swearing and demanding more, much more of the contact that is so addictive.

Hardy traces a fingertip against Luke’s throat, watching Luke’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Hardy slowly brushes his shoulder, his clavicle, then reaches his chest. The touch leaves hot impressions on Luke’s skin, as if the simple contact burns his flesh. When Hardy rubs his n*****s, a small flick is enough to make him gasp. The nubs, adorned with black barbells, pebble beneath Hardy’s finger. Hardy gets one n****e between his fingers and teases the aroused bud. Luke shudders and mewls, every brief contact amplifying his arousal.

“Mm, I love how sensitive your n*****s are,” Hardy muses, eyes blazing with desire. “I love how vocal you get at such a small touch, too.” With a smirk, he lowers his head and claims Luke’s n****e with his mouth.

Luke chokes as Hardy swirls his tongue around the nub and piercing, humming contently before biting down on the flesh. Luke watches everything with wide eyes, unable to look away from Hardy’s ministrations on his body. He doesn’t know what’s better: Hardy’s every touch and caress or his expression of utter bliss.

Hardy leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses toward Luke’s neck, mouthing his pecs, kissing the hollow of his neck, and licking the juncture where shoulder starts and neck begins until he’s sinking his teeth into Luke’s throat. Pain lances through Luke’s body, but it only serves to further feed his arousal.

The ache is what he wanted, and there’s only hunger for more. He wants pain. No, he craves it. And by the end of the night, Luke knows Hardy will have given that and more.

“Beautiful boy,” Hardy breathes against his neck. Luke can hear the smile on his lips. “Now you’ll have a big bruise on your neck to remind you of me for days.”

Luke wants to tell him he’d remember him every night for the next month even without the bruise, but he has to stop himself by biting on his tongue. No talking unless asked to.

When Hardy finally grips Luke’s erection, Luke’s eyes roll back in his skull. He has been craving this ever since he entered that club. By now, so much pre-come has beaded at the tip that Hardy’s first stroke is fluid and smooth. Giving Hardy free rein of his body, letting him take whatever he wants while Luke stands exposed, affords Luke a satisfaction no other man has been able to give him.

While Hardy jacks Luke off with firm strokes, his free hand comes forward to trace the black and green snake tattoo that adorns Luke’s chest. The ink starts at the bottom of his left n****e and trails down his chest, past his navel, until it reaches his crotch, so close to his d**k that it ends only a couple inches from it.

“Any reason behind the snake?” Hardy asks, touching the tattoo with reverent fingers. Luke doesn’t reply for too many seconds, lost in the maddening touch and still wanting to obey the don’t talk rule. In retaliation, Hardy retreats his hands to get a firm grip on Luke’s chin. “I asked you a question, boy.”

Luke’s eyes widen. “Sorry, Sir,” Luke says quickly, already missing Hardy’s strokes.

He thinks about the question. Everyone who sees him shirtless asks that same question. The tattoo was Luke’s first rebellion when he turned eighteen. He got it before he set off to Europe to spend a year backpacking across the continent, which is where he acquired the habit of his second rebellion: smoking cigarettes.

Usually, Luke lies about the meaning of his tattoo. Each time, most often when he’s hooking up with someone, he invents a new reason, saying things that range from I like snakes to snakes are viewed as healing symbols by…

The real reason behind it, however, is more embarrassing than that.

“I got this tattoo when I was eighteen because, um…” Luke hesitates. “I was, or am, a huge Harry Potter fan, and I’m a proud Slytherin. So, I got the tattoo in tribute to that and…yeah.”

Hardy nods neutrally, and embarrassment creeps up. He shouldn’t have told him. Now Hardy will think he’s a dork.

“I know it’s a stupid tattoo,” Luke rushes to defend himself, “but I was young and obsessed with the books. And now she’s a tran—”

Luke is silenced by Hardy’s index finger on his lips.

“It’s not stupid, Luke,” Hardy says with kind eyes. “It’s a beautiful tattoo, and it suits you well. It doesn’t matter that it’s about a kid’s book. Harry Potter is very important to you, and you shouldn’t be embarrassed about your passions, no matter how silly you think they are.”

Luke bursts into a smile, relieved Hardy doesn’t think he’s a dumb kid.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Hardy replies by leaning in and kissing him. This one is sweeter than the others, their tongues slowly sliding together. Hardy grips the strands of hair from Luke’s nape, tilting his head upward to minimize the distance between their mouths. Hardy presses flush against him, his tall frame towering over Luke’s lean, short one. The size difference and the power behind Hardy’s body leave Luke overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch.

Hardy resumes the exploration of Luke’s skin, digits leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hand travels down Luke’s body and finally reaches Luke’s painfully hard d**k again. He takes Luke’s shaft in his palm, his thumb swiping pre-come around the glans. With a firm grip, Hardy works Luke’s erection with expert movements, tugging and pulling the stiff flesh as his tongue explores Luke’s mouth.

Eventually, Hardy breaks the passionate kiss. Luke whines, never wanting it to stop. Instead, Hardy moves his hand from Luke’s nape until he’s pushing two fingers past Luke’s wet lips. Luke’s eyes widen, but he starts sucking, wishing they were something else entirely.

“That’s it, boy,” Hardy croons. “Suck on my fingers like the little slut you are.”

Luke groans, skillfully twirling his tongue around the digits as Hardy thrusts them in and out of his mouth.

When Hardy extracts himself from Luke’s mouth, it’s to quickly slide those two wet fingers between Luke’s ass cheeks. The digits brush against Luke’s rim, teasing the puckered flesh with skilled precision. While Hardy still clutches Luke’s erection, he breaches Luke’s entrance, stimulating him on all fronts. The subsequent moans that leave Luke’s mouth are loud, throaty, and indecent, echoing off the walls of the playroom. In no time, Luke is rocking his hips back and forth, thrusting his c**k into Hardy’s hand only to impale himself deeper on Hardy’s fingers.

Suddenly, all touches cease. Hardy’s hand retreats from his erection, leaving his d**k exposed to the cool air of the room. The fingers withdraw too, instilling an emptiness inside Luke that wasn’t there before. Hardy even takes a step back, dislodging his body from Luke’s. The lack of pleasure is abrupt, and it makes Luke so frustrated, he can’t stop himself from loudly expressing his displeasure.

“No, no, don’t stop,” Luke demands.

“I told you not to move, boy,” Hardy says. “And I told you not to talk. Especially not to demand anything.” He brings his hand down hard against Luke’s ass cheek.