As yet, there had been nothing in his developing relationship with Adam that had given Jean pause for thought. Perhaps this should, but it didn’t. Instead he grinned at Adam – the slight flush to his cheeks and scent of arousal obvious – as he held the collar out to him when he returned to the bed.
Jean took it and turned it over in his hands. High quality leather, a large bell – to mimic the collar of a usually much smaller cat.
“You wish to domesticate me?” He rumbled, amused.
Adam grinned back. “I’m sure I already did.” An obvious twitch of his cock.
Jean couldn’t argue. In his everyday life he was still the formidable carnivore people knew and feared. But with Adam, he was gentle, vulnerable and – when they were both inclined – submissive.
Even when he had claws out for Adam, he was tame – he was his pet.
To that end, the collar was amusing.
He smiled wryly as he allowed Adam to slip it back from his grasp. With no hesitation or fear of refusal, Adam crawled over him, their hardening cocks sliding together as the bunny straddled him. He leaned forward, crushing their hips together to place the collar around Jean’s willing throat.
Adam moved slowly forward before sitting back up, sinking back onto Jean’s waiting cock. He twisted his finger under the collar, pulling it a little tighter when Jean groaned. Adam always felt amazing, and Jean was always willing to allow him to take whatever he wanted.
As Adam started to ride him slowly, one hand still keeping the collar tight, he stroked Jean’s cheek with his free hand.
“Such a sweet kitty. Just waiting for this bunny to declaw you.”
Jean groaned as he nodded. Adam grinned as he dropped his hand to the bell, giving it a flick so that it jingled.
“Good kitty.” He growled before moving in ever harder and deeper movements, giving Jean no doubt of how much Adam really enjoyed domesticating him.
“Graham had a lot of trouble with taste. Often his thoughts were not tasty. There were no effective partitions in his mind. What he saw and learned touched everything else he knew. Some of the combinations were hard to live with. But he could not anticipate them, could not block and repress. His learned values of decency and propriety tagged along, shocked at his associations, appalled at his dreams; sorry that in the bone arena of his skull there were no forts for what he loved. His associations came at the speed of light. His value judgments were at the pace of a responsive reading. They could never keep up and direct his thinking. He viewed his own mentality as grotesque but useful, like a chair made of antlers. There was nothing he could do about it.” -Thomas Harris, The Red Dragon
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