Author Names: K.C. Wells & Parker Williams
Book Name: Dom of Ages
Series: Collars & Cuffs
Pages or Words: 92,000 words
Categories: BDSM, Contemporary, Fiction, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance, May-December Romance
Release Date: December 21, 2015
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Paul Richmond
Photo Credits: Joey Flyfoto, Model: Dirk Caber
Review: 4.5 stars from Jaime
Eli may only be thirty, but he has had enough of pretend submissives. He wants a sub who truly knows how to submit. So when he spies Jarod in a BDSM club, everything about the man screams submission. It doesn’t matter that Jarod has to be about twenty years older than Eli. What does age matter, anyway? Not one to miss an opportunity, Eli moves fast and takes Jarod home with him, without thinking things through. All he can see is what he’s always wanted – a sub who wants to serve.
Jarod spent twenty-eight years with his Master, until Fate took Phillip from him. Four years on, and Jarod is still lost, so when a young Dom takes charge, Jarod rolls with it and finds himself serving again. But he keeps waiting for the shoe to drop. Because there’s going to come a point when Eli realizes he’s a laughing stock in the club. Who would want to be seen with a fifty-year-old sub? And when the moment of humiliation does arrive, Jarod flees. He’d be better off with Phillip.
Despite several missteps, what happens forces Eli to understand that Jarod needs him as much as he needs Jarod. But he knows in order to find happiness, they need friends who will understand. A friend keeps telling him Collars & Cuffs is what they need. Eli finally goes to visit, refusing to risk Jarod being hurt again, and finds everything he’s heard about the club is true. When he takes Jarod, he watches as his sub is met with open arms. As they settle in to their new life, Eli begins to see things differently. And he dares to think he can have it all. Until the phone call that shows him he didn’t realize what he could lose.
I eyed the other subs enviously as they preened for the Doms, each hoping to spend an hour in a private room with one of them. I felt like a kid again, always the last one picked for sports. The looks I got ranged from amused to withering. I couldn’t believe I’d subjected myself to this. What was worse, I’d actually expected a different outcome.
I sighed deeply. Who was I fooling? I wasn’t twenty anymore. Hell, I wasn’t even twice that. The Doms wanted someone younger, someone trainable, or, failing that, someone who could give them a hot fuck. I had talents in that department from the many years I had served Master Phillip, but since he died, I’d been a submissive who had no one to serve.
“And what are you supposed to be?” a voice near my ear snapped.
“My name is Jarod, Sir,” I answered quietly, my heart thumping so loudly I was certain he could hear it.
There was a low growl. “I didn’t ask your name. I asked what you think you’re doing here.”
Heaven help me, I told him the truth. “Searching for someone to serve, Sir.”
His braying laugh mocked me. When he saw I was serious, he sobered. “No one is going to take you. No master is going to have you.” Then in a softer voice he added, “Go home. You don’t belong here.”
He was right, of course. It was time I admitted that to myself. This was a world that wasn’t like the one I’d been part of. When Master Phillip and I went to the clubs, there was an understanding. People were respectful, even if they weren’t interested in whatever was going on. This club was awful. It was full of young men strutting around like peacocks, each trying to show off more plumage than the next.
It was time to stop kidding myself. There was no reason for me to stay any longer. I’d be on my way, and then everyone would probably have a good laugh at my expense. At least in that, I would have made someone happy. I was about to stand when I felt a hand on my shoulder and smelled the leather.
“What is it you want?”
His breath smelled of mint. It wafted over my face and made my stomach clench with nerves. “To serve, Sir.”
Silence. I waited for it, the inevitable comeback, the jeer, the insult….
“That’s a very good answer, boy. Very good indeed. Stand and turn.”
I rose to my feet and faced the man whose voice gave me butterflies. When I saw him, my heart dropped and crushed them all to dust. The man was handsome, I would never say otherwise, but he was a child. I wanted a Master to serve, not to be a toy for a youngster who would grow bored with me the next time a pretty pony boy pranced by.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Jarod, Sir,” I replied, cursing my cracking voice.
He held out his hand and took mine. His grip was firm and warm, and a jolt of electricity ran through me at his touch.
“It’s an honor to meet you. My name is Eli.”
His name was like a caress. There was a gentleness to his voice that had me feeling as though everything might be okay after all. I tried to be surreptitious about it as I looked him over, and he laughed.
“You don’t need to hide anything from me. If you want to look at me, go ahead.”
I raised my head and marveled at how his green eyes shone in the bright lights. His short, spiky hair was dark, but with the colored lights flashing, it was hard to tell what color it was. I had the insane urge to run my fingers through it. He was about my height, and the way those black leather pants clung to his muscular thighs, I really wanted to see his legs. He was slender, but with good definition: it wasn’t a six-pack, but I wouldn’t have minded running my hands over it.
“Aren’t you a bit old for this, Jarod?” His voice was deep, and my skin pebbled at his tone. With a shock I realized he wasn’t mocking me; he was genuinely curious.
Once more I felt compelled to speak the truth. “No, Sir. I-I don’t believe I am.”
His fingers traced along my neck, running gently across my throat. I swallowed hard. It was so different from the treatment I’d received from everyone else here.
“Would you like to play?”
And with those words my heart dropped. “No. I’d rather not.” I was shocked to hear the words come from my mouth. Never before had I told a Sir no, but it seemed to be a night for honesty. Of all the times to be honest, though…. I remained still, awaiting his imminent departure.
“Good. I’m glad. I’m not here to play either.” He was quiet for a moment. “I want you to come home with me. Would that be okay?”
My breath caught. What the hell? He was so different from everyone else in this club. My heartbeat sped up. “Yes, please.” My damn voice squeaked again.
I felt the smooth leather against my throat. “This doesn’t come off until I say so. Is this agreed?”
I cursed myself for forgetting. “Yes, Sir.”
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About K.C. Wells
Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C. Wells always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way.
K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, where the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings—writing about men in love was even hotter….
K.C. now writes full time and is loving every minute of her new career.
The laptop still has no idea of what hit it… it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.
About Parker Williams
Parker Williams began to write as a teen, but never showed his work to anyone. As he grew older, he drifted away from writing, but his love of the written word moved him to reading. A chance encounter with an author changed the course of his life as she encouraged him to never give up on a dream. With the help of some amazing friends, he rediscovered the joy of writing, thanks to a community of writers who have become his family.
Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and Happily Ever After always has a price tag.
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