Obedient Bitch

Chapter 3: Goose Bumps

Pete didn't quite know how to describe exactly what he was feeling at that moment.

He was feeling so many things at once, that the sensations were shuffled together like playing cards before being handed to the players at a poker table. In a way, Pete knew that he would hand them to someone, but he was as oblivious as the receiver to the contents of each card.

It was a mess. And yet, it felt right.

Vegas didn't touch him during the whole day. Not that he should have, but still Pete was so eager to get to know the older man's more dominant and controlled side that he couldn't help but raise his own expectations, and wait at every moment for a hint that those traits were more visible in the lawyer. However, Vegas acted as always, being gentle and amusing, humming an unfamiliar tune while watering the little plants on the balcony and his beloved *bonsai.* The difference between the two was gigantic: while Vegas was quiet, Pete practically bit his nails without stopping to think about what they would do later.

Then the time came.

Pete was on the couch, fiddling with his cell phone and trying to distract himself with some funny tweets, when Vegas caught his attention. The older man stopped in front of him, with his hands inside the pockets of the pants he was wearing, and asked if Pete still wanted to do that. Vegas kept offering the boy an exit option, as if he was trying to inform him that no matter when, where, or why, if Pete gave up and didn't feel comfortable in the relationship, he was free to leave. And that was enough to build a secure foundation for the younger boy, who knew that he would never be forced to do anything he didn't want to by the lawyer.

His answer was obvious: Pete had no doubt that he wanted to do it.

Vegas' order was simple, but one that left the young man intrigued.

"Go to my room, and stand facing the bed, in the low protocol waiting position."

And there Pete stood, waiting as directed. Legs slightly apart, arms at the sides of his body, and his gaze forward. One of the lamps in the room was out, which gave the effect of half-light, and the only sound he could hear was his own breathing, plus the occasional distant traffic noise outside, since the floor they lived on was far from the first floor.

He felt restless, but told himself that it would do no good to cultivate the mentality of disobedience when Vegas was not around, so he just took a few deep breaths, and didn't dare look around. There was a white wall in front of him, with a window that was considerably larger than his own, but the view was covered by blinds and a thick curtain, which made the room even darker and more enclosed.

At times he closed and opened his palms, which were slippery from the sweat droplets accumulating between his fingers, and the cold draft from the air-conditioning made them cold to the touch. He mentally evaluated his posture, puffing out his chest and keeping his spine upright as he remembered Vegas' instructions. Pete didn't want their first experience together to start with the dominant having to correct him, so he made sure to repeat the protocol positions taught by Vegas several times throughout the week.

The boy's heart was beating hard against his chest, faster than he would have liked, and slower than he thought it would be.

Then the sound of the door opening echoed through the room, and Pete could feel Vegas' presence emanating through him, even though he couldn't see him. The boy wanted to look over his shoulder, and meet the dragon's gaze as intense as the mythological reference animal itself, but he held himself in the same position. The door closed again, and the room returned to its previous silence.

Pete only noticed that he had held his breath, when the taller one appeared in his field of vision. His face was still calm and relaxed, and the long strands of hair that had once been loose around Vegas' neck, now found themselves caught in a bun in the middle of his head, and this time, the shaved sides made him look much more than just stylish, but also more rough. Pete didn't look down, but he could see that Vegas hands were in the pockets of the pants he was wearing, his erect posture making him even taller than he already was. The boy's mouth went dry, and not just because of the dominant's presence.