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Title: Rise
Author: kiltsandlollies
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: NC–17
Warning: bit of a mind–and–body game going on here
Summary: A sequel to magickalmolly’s Initiation, which you must read first to understand what’s going on here. Written with her permission.

Dominic hasn't come. Hasn't yet been allowed—told—to do so. So he's more than a little breathless when Billy turns him, shoving him unkindly up onto the desk. Dominic's eyebrows knit in irritation, and Billy's rise in challenge. Dominic looks down, away, anywhere but up and into Billy's eyes until Billy leans down and grabs his chin, holding it firm between thumb and index fingers while the rest of his hand caresses Dominic's jaw.

“Pretty,” Billy sighs. “You make a fine delinquent.”

“So you've told me.”

Billy's eyes go dark again, and he plants one hand in the middle of Dominic’s chest, keeping him there. Dominic watches as Billy reaches down, pulling the panties back up Dominic's thighs. Dominic takes a breath and bears down on the desk, stopping Billy's progress before the panties reach his ass.

“No,” Dominic laughs, nervous.

“Oh, yes,” Billy nods.

Dominic holds his ground, and Billy's eyebrows rise again.

“Up, Dominic,” he says softly. “Or I'll shove them in your mouth and quiet you properly.”

Dominic groans, his eyes closing against the image, but he resists, legs moving restlessly. “Billy—”

“I'll make sure you don't come for weeks if you don't fucking rise up for me this second, Dominic.”

And Dominic obeys.

The panties do not slide gently up and around his ass as they would for a girl. They pull and tug and are damp from Dominic's excitement and the sweat of Billy's hand. They are not comfortable. But then this isn't about comfort, not for Dominic and certainly not for Billy.

When he is clothed in the panties once more, Dominic shifts, creating friction of fabric against skin that makes his breaths come fast and hard. And Billy lets him, just for a few seconds lets him move like this, and Billy's eyes on his body make Dominic want to absolutely die any death Billy might choose for him.

“I don't have to touch you,” Billy whispers. “I don't have to put my hands anywhere on you to know that your skin is red and burning and that what you're doing has to hurt. You're grinding away there and I don't even need to be in this room to know that given half a minute more of this, you'll come so hard in those panties that you'll still feel it tomorrow.”

“Billy, God, Billy—”

And then Billy's fingers are tracing Dominic's length through the panties, pressing and teasing, and Dominic's hips buck up from the desk. Billy hisses through his teeth and slams them back down with a force that makes Dominic gasp.

“So fucking eager to rise up now,” Billy growls. “So fucking desperate. Let's see how desperate you are.”

Dominic's hands rush to the panties, greedy for the touch, but Billy covers them with his own. “You misunderstand me, Dominic,” Billy smiles gently. “As if I'd let you off that easy.”

“Billy, please—”

“That's good,” Billy interrupts, nodding. “Begging's a start.” His gaze sweeps from between Dominic's legs, where a fine sheen of Dominic's need has made the panties almost transparent, to between Dominic's lips, where his rough, exhibitionist's tongue slips out to lick his bottom lip—and then back to Dominic's legs, trembling now. Billy's fingers trace down to Dominic's thigh, scratching lightly.

“Fall open, Dominic,” Billy whispers.

And Dominic obeys.

Dominic watches Billy’s glance move to the skirt, still bunched up and now wrinkled beyond repair. Billy resettles the material around Dominic’s waist, and this finicky attention to detail would make Dominic laugh if Billy’s touch wasn’t quite so careful, so slow and teasing.

Then Billy is suddenly on the desk, hands on either side of Dominic’s body and a fierce glint in his eyes. He kneels between Dominic’s legs, and Dominic cannot keep down a sigh, a little moan of anticipation. He knows Billy’s almost ready again, ready to plunge back inside Dominic and take him mercilessly, just as Dominic wants. But of course, Billy doesn’t play to Dominic’s wants or needs or anything when he’s like this, and Dominic’s learned to expect nothing from him but an eventual shattering, violent moment of greedy lust just before it ends and Billy’s smile turns soft again.

Billy’s hands move up and down Dominic’s thighs slowly, gently at first, then harder, his palms hot and rough against the skin. They rise higher underneath the skirt each time, and Dominic bites his lip to keep from begging any more. And then, and then—

And then, Billy slides one hand underneath Dominic’s thigh, pushing the leg up and to the side enough that he has the access he wants. Billy’s fingertips travel inside the hem of the panties, curling under Dominic and sliding from side to side, in and out. There is no hesitancy here, and it’s not even a tease, really. This is Billy taking his time, Billy taking Dominic’s very breath, Billy just taking.

It’s almost enough for Dominic, just this slow touch, but obviously not for Billy. His other hand reaches, matches the first, and Dominic cannot take it. He squirms and sighs, his hands reaching for Billy’s arms, his hips, anything. Billy exhales deeply, his whole body releasing some kind of tension Dominic recognizes, and then Billy’s hands plunge deeply into the back of the panties, cupping Dominic’s ass and stroking it, hard, underlining and italicizing the marks from the paddle. The heat of Billy’s hands only draws up the blood, the heat already coursing through Dominic’s skin, and Dominic moans again, his hips rising up so far that Billy slides his legs underneath him.

There is so much heat—Billy’s hands, trapped next to Dominic’s ass, trapped inside the panties, trapped against Billy’s own thighs—and Dominic can barely breathe. “Please, please,” he whispers, and Billy shakes his head more out of habit than anything else, Dominic knows, so he continues to beg, unafraid, unashamed. Billy’s fingers are moving again, sliding between Dominic’s cheeks, and then there are Billy’s thumbs—Jesus, God, Billy, what—spreading Dominic further. The panties are unbearably tight now, the crotch pressing into Dominic’s cock brutally, and Dominic squirms in agony. The movement makes Billy twist, and his thumb brushes against Dominic’s entrance roughly.

Billy hisses again, and Dominic is instantly still. “Again,” Dominic whispers, and again Billy shakes his head. He’s moving backward, away, and Dominic’s shocked to hear his own mewl, his own cry of fear that Billy is going to leave him like this. Billy hears it too, and his eyes flicker in a mix of anger and deep, consuming pleasure. Dominic shivers, and his legs begin to close almost unconsciously. Billy catches the little movement before Dominic can retract it from the record, and Billy presses his palm down hard on Dominic’s straining erection.

“You fall open,” Billy growls. “You do not fight me.”

And of course, Dominic obeys.

Billy’s hands fly back inside the panties, working faster now, pushing the material around until his fingers circle Dominic’s cock. Dominic’s own hands move in the air, wanting to stop Billy before he comes just like this, just from the rough handling, the rhythmic twisting in Billy’s touch. “No, no, Billy, no,” he begs, the words tumbling from his mouth too quickly.

But it as if Billy knows—which of course he does—that it should not end this way. Billy slows his attack, and Dominic breathes, trying to relax. His mouth is dry and his eyes are wet, but his nerves are singing, desperate, Dominic thinks. Dominic closes his eyes, trying to stop his own release from rushing forward until it’s time. Until Billy allows it.

But Billy’s losing his incredible patience, Dominic can tell, and the moment Dominic’s eyes close for real, Billy’s mouth is on the crotch of the panties, licking and sucking and pulling the damp material between his teeth. A half–scream rips from Dominic’s throat when Billy’s teeth close down carefully on his cock, just enough of a sharp touch that Dominic is certain he’s going to come right now and risk Billy’s extreme displeasure. He can feel Billy’s smile even through the fabric, and he allows himself a growl of his own. “You fuck. Bastard. Son of a thousand fucking bitches—”

“Be fucking quiet,” Billy grits out. He runs one hand roughly up and down Dominic’s cock inside the panties, tugging and pulling, and Dominic’s curses falter and fail. Dominic throws his head back, gasping, but unwilling to scream again, not until, not until—

Not until Billy releases him and pulls away once more. He steadies himself above Dominic, face red with exertion and the result of too much waiting, and drops his hips so his cock meets Dominic’s, brushing hard against the material.

“I should take you like this,” Billy hisses. “I should fuck you just like this. You fucking dare fight me, Dominic, when you want this so bad you’re begging me for it.” Billy yanks the panties to one side, and Dominic cries out. The hem bites into him, burning already–aching skin, and Dominic grabs Billy’s arm, fingers curling around his bicep.

“Billy, Bill, Jesus—”

“Always begging, Dominic—”

“No, no, not—”

Dominic’s cries are cut off by Billy’s mouth, plundering, and Dominic surrenders, as he always does when Billy finally kisses him. The kiss means that Billy cannot wait anymore either, that he is ready, that he is at last going to make Dominic shout for real, and this time he will allow the noise. Billy’s hands are tearing at the panties, and an absurd, incredible thrill runs up Dominic’s spine as the material rips and he is freed. Billy’s fingers work, work so quickly on Dominic’s cock and his own, but Dominic’s certain he could take Billy even if he wasn’t prepared. At this point, they are both too far gone to notice anything but each other, and Dominic will welcome even the most searing of pain.

It takes seconds—less than seconds—before Billy is inside him, pushing and pulling, moving Dominic’s body viciously until he is where Billy wants him, immobilized but for the slight twitches of his hips that Billy so loves. Dominic will have new marks from Billy’s hands, wrapped around his wrists, to complement those from the paddle.

Billy starts slowly, more to feel Dominic’s frustration rise than anything else, but quickens his pace the moment Dominic gets accustomed to the rhythm. Dominic bears it at first, like he always does, but then he’s rewarded for his patience by Billy’s hand, moving from Dominic’s wrist to his cock. He strokes it lightly, only after every few thrusts, and Dominic closes his eyes again, trying to escape, trying to wait Billy out, but spinning, spinning out of control even as he fights it with every breath.

“Now,” Billy gasps. “Now or not fucking again for weeks, Dominic—”

Dominic exhales, something beyond gratitude and not quite yet love pouring from him like sweat, and he reaches for Billy, kissing him desperately before he falls away, his body clenching and rising and coming in and over Billy’s hand. He gasps, shakes, but knows he has no time to just rest, not if he wants to see Billy come—and there are few things more enthralling to Dominic in this world than the sight of his lover coming, his agonized face finally softening in pleasure, however terribly it was taken.

Billy arches his back, and his eyes meet Dominic’s one last time before they close tight. Billy cries out—oh, and that voice, just like that, yes, Dominic thinks—and his arms give way. Dominic catches him, as he always does, and Billy’s shoulders shake with exhaustion. Dominic watches Billy sink down onto his chest—ignoring the patent ridiculousness of the situation, the now soiled sweater and skirt—and he is filled with warmth and tenderness for Billy, now resting quietly, calmly, his fingers moving nervously over Dominic’s body. Dominic coughs, gathers his courage, gathers his heart, and tries, as he always does,

“Billy, I—”

“Sleep,” Billy whispers, quickly.

And of course, Dominic obeys.

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