"Nothing to worry about. Why are you even wearing it, then?"
She doesn't vacate his lap, or even so much as surrender her straddle across his hips — she wants to be in the perfect position to witness his attempts to explain this to her, rearing up over him from the waist above until her hands are braced on his chest and she's looking down at him with a carefully arched eyebrow.
They'd never specified the necessity for collars in their own contract — even if it would likely keep him from being hassled unnecessarily by the guards in the Up were he to wear one, she'd had the keen sense then that it wasn't an idea he was greatly fond of, and now he's wearing something thick and clunky, leather with a metal ring jutting out of the center. She hooks her index finger through it, giving it a sharper tug.
"Did someone else put this on you? Was it Grayson?"
The sound of horrified disgust that grunts out of him at the very thought of Grayson collaring him leaves no doubt that he'd sooner die than ever submit in such a way. He'd laugh if the thought didn't make him feel quite so much like vomiting. And there goes his erection like a burst balloon. Not even having her reared over him and in his lap like this can save it.
"No. It was not Grayson." Though, he's not about to admit Grayson saw it already and that the disappointment he'd seen in his peers' expression was partially the driving factor for his seeking her comfort. Look where that's gotten him.
His eyes flash dangerously when her fingers hooks the metal loop. Oh, that he does not like.
"It was the city. A punishment for a citation received. That's all. It will be gone in two weeks."
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no subject
She doesn't vacate his lap, or even so much as surrender her straddle across his hips — she wants to be in the perfect position to witness his attempts to explain this to her, rearing up over him from the waist above until her hands are braced on his chest and she's looking down at him with a carefully arched eyebrow.
They'd never specified the necessity for collars in their own contract — even if it would likely keep him from being hassled unnecessarily by the guards in the Up were he to wear one, she'd had the keen sense then that it wasn't an idea he was greatly fond of, and now he's wearing something thick and clunky, leather with a metal ring jutting out of the center. She hooks her index finger through it, giving it a sharper tug.
"Did someone else put this on you? Was it Grayson?"
no subject
The sound of horrified disgust that grunts out of him at the very thought of Grayson collaring him leaves no doubt that he'd sooner die than ever submit in such a way. He'd laugh if the thought didn't make him feel quite so much like vomiting. And there goes his erection like a burst balloon. Not even having her reared over him and in his lap like this can save it.
"No. It was not Grayson." Though, he's not about to admit Grayson saw it already and that the disappointment he'd seen in his peers' expression was partially the driving factor for his seeking her comfort. Look where that's gotten him.
His eyes flash dangerously when her fingers hooks the metal loop. Oh, that he does not like.
"It was the city. A punishment for a citation received. That's all. It will be gone in two weeks."