A Total-E-Bound Publication

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Knight of Pleasure
ISBN #978-0-85715-050-9
©Copyright Simone Anderson 2010
Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright March 2010
Edited by Michele Paulin
Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination
and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or
places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form,
whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of
the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound
Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil
proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs
and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator
of the artwork.

Published in 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road,
Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.


Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature
readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

Smugglers’ Cove

KNIGHT OF PLEASURE

Simone Anderson

Dedication

For Michele, for being a great editor and making my stories better.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Ford Ranger Super Cab

: Ford Motor Company

Coke: Coca-Cola Company
Amphibious Assault Vehicle (Aavp7a1 Ram/Rs): Fm Corporation For The Us Marine Corps
Marines: Usamerica Federal Agency
Veteran’s Administration: Department Of Veterans Affairs

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5

Chapter One

Swords clanged together as two armoured men fought in the centre of a large, roped-

off area. Dean Hudson sat in the bleachers with his sister and her three children watching the

by-play, his gaze on the knight in the maroon tunic with a dragon painted on it.

“Uncle Dean?” a young voice called out. A small hand tugged on his shirt.

“What is it pumpkin?” he asked, pulling his five-year-old niece onto his lap.

“Is that what you did when you were in the Ma’eenes?” she asked, pointing to the

knights.

“No, we weren’t lucky enough to have swords,” he smiled. “They didn’t even give us

horses.”

“That’s not nice of them!” she said, hands on her hips, looking indignant.

“Jennie, you’re not supposed to ask Uncle about that,” Dean’s nine-year-old, nephew

scolded.

“Todd,” Dean’s older sister Carla warned her eldest son. “Dean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t

have dragged you here.”

“I’ve never been to a Renaissance Faire before. Besides, it beats staying home and

drinking.” Dean shrugged, turned his attention to his niece. “Look, pumpkin, I think that’s

the Queen.” He indicated a middle aged woman in a heavily beaded, dark-green velvet

gown.

“Queen Isabella Savoy.” Carla wrinkled her nose. “Ethan and Sean call her a fun-hater

and a micro-manager.”

“I see. And who again are Ethan and Sean?”

“Ethan’s in the maroon and white tunic with the dragon on it. He’s fighting Lord

Darken, Sean, in the green and yellow tunic,” Carla said, pointing to the two combatants

before naming the rest of the men in the fight ring.

“Everyone has a different name?” He shook his head. “How do you keep them all

straight?” His gaze wandered back to Ethan. Dean had seen him without a helmet on and

recognised him from the photographs his sister had sent to him while he was in the desert.

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6

Familiar memories tugged at him. Refusing to acknowledge them, he became acutely aware

of his surroundings. He hoped the sights and sounds of the faire would keep the memories at

bay for a while longer.

Now was not the time or place to relive that hell. Smiling, he prayed

Carla wouldn’t notice. She deserved to see him happy, deserved a day of fun.

His sister shrugged. “From hanging around them, I know all of the Knights of Steel and

a good portion of everyone else here—the ones dressed up anyway. All rennies, the people

who do this all of the time, adopt a different name and persona. If you’re observant and

patient, you can see scenes unfold just below the surface of the show for the public.”

Dean nodded and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wanting to bolt. The crowded open

area of the faire set his nerves on edge, and he longed for peace and quiet and solitude.

Jennie wriggled out of his lap, and he waited for her to climb down to the bench in front of

them to join her two brothers before he edged away from Carla.

Dean rubbed his sweating palms on his jeans, thankful the breezy day spared him the

awkwardness of explaining why he wasn’t wearing shorts. He hadn’t worn shorts since

before his last deployment, when his body and life were changed forever. It was a day like

any other, but one he would never forget the day of his last patrol. Two years later, he was

looking at an uncertain future as a disabled vet who couldn’t stand on his own two feet

without the aid of a cane.

He watched the maroon-clad knight, Ethan, round on his opponent, swing his sword

and drive the man to his knees. Kicking him in the chest, he raised his hands in celebration as

the man toppled backwards. Half of the crowd cheered. The other half booed. An armour-

less man dressed in a black and white tunic bearing the colours and crest of the

entertainment troop rushed forward to help the defeated knight to his feet.

“Honour her majesty!”

One after another, the armoured men dropped to one knee, heads bowed in the

direction of a short, round, blonde-haired woman, who despite her smile, looked as though

she’d just tasted something disgusting. Ethan stuck his sword into the dirt, removed his

helmet then knelt on one knee.

Dean inhaled sharply. Long, light-brown hair was tied at the nape of the man’s neck,

and beads of sweat ran down the sides of his face. His angular jaw gave way to the subtle

lines hidden beneath armour.

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“Ethan’s gay, by the way, and single,” Carla whispered in his ear. “I thought you might

like him.”

“You told me in one of the letters you sent me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you

were trying to play matchmaker,” Dean said good-naturedly, hugging his sister.

“Why shouldn’t I want my brother to find true love?”

He wasn’t sure about true love, but Dean wondered what it would be like to get fucked

by Ethan. The single photograph Carla had sent him of Ethan was decidedly less sexy than

the sight on the field in front of him. Dean started. How long had it been since he’d thought

about another guy? Too long, he chastised himself. There was no guarantee that Ethan was

single, and Dean had to meet a player he liked. He strongly suspected Ethan was a top,

which suited him fine. Dean had topped before, but he preferred bottoming. So had Brad, his

ex, so he’d ended up topping more often than not, wanting to make his lover happy. It hadn’t

been enough to keep Brad from cheating on him.

Dean remembered the day he’d come home early and found Brad in their bed,

technically Dean’s bed, with one of the company clerks. Dean shook his head, pulling himself

from his memories, surprised to find all of the armoured men standing in the centre of the

ring. The combatants squared off. Dean winced when Ethan was hit first in the leg by one

person, followed closely on the back of the helmet by the knight in the green and yellow

tunic.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to him. You’ll like him.” Carla giggled.

Dean smiled and nodded trying to keep his excitement at bay.

“Ethan! Lord Blackmoore!” Carla called out, drawing the attention of several knights.

“You fought wonderfully, as always,” Carla said, hugging Ethan.

“Ethan, this is my brother Dean Hudson,” Carla said, reaching for Dean. “Dean, this is

one of my best friends, Ethan Moreland, also known as Lord Blackmoore, one of the Knights

of Steel.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean. Welcome home.” Ethan held out his hand.

Dean moved his cane to the other hand and shook hands with Ethan, who ran his

thumb over Dean’s knuckles. Desire ran rampant through Dean’s body, pooling in his groin

at the contact. “Nice to meet you too,” Dean replied, wishing he knew Ethan well enough to

move the errant strand of light brown hair that fell across one dark eye.

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“You’re being summoned my lord,” Carla said, turning from them towards the arena

where the other knights had gathered.

“You will be staying for a while, right?” Ethan asked, looking from Dean to Carla and

back again.

Dean saw the plea in sister’s eyes, pushed aside his growing discomfort and nodded.

He wanted today to be special for her. On top of working, raising her kids and trying to have

a life, she’d been looking after him since he’d returned home.

“It was nice to meet you,” Dean said, half hoping he’d get to know Ethan better.

“My pleasure, Dean. My pleasure,” Ethan answered, running two knuckles along

Dean’s jaw line. Dean thought he saw a look of possession in Ethan’s eyes before the man

turned and left them.

“Come on. Let’s go see more of the faire,” Carla began as soon as Ethan was out of

hearing distance. She hooked an arm through his and pulled him away from the arena. “So,

what do you think?”

“They do this for fun?” Dean looked around at the vast array of costumes ranging from

elegant to gaudy. He leaned heavily on his cane, carefully picking his way over the rough

terrain.

His sister nodded. “You’re avoiding the question. What do you think of Ethan?”

Dean shrugged. “He’s nice enough.”

Carla stopped and stared open mouthed. “Nice enough? Really, brother, you have

seriously fried your brain. Admit it. He’s hot!”

“Won’t argue that,” he agreed, following his niece and nephews down a short path to a

stage decorated to look like the deck of a pirate ship. “Hot doesn’t make him nice or dateable,

Carla, merely fuckable.” He’d learned the hard way that looks were deceiving, more often

than not. How many times had he caught Brad in one lie or another before finding him in

bed with another man? Dean still didn’t know how many times Brad had cheated on him.

Their relationship and breakup had been a secret, neither one willing to leave the Corps.

Since Dean had been home, simply being near people had him jumping at every sound.

Crowds and loud noises unnerved him. He might fuck Ethan, but more than that was out of

the question. While others swore that a relationship had provided a sense of control and

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sanity, he didn’t want to deal with the neediness or insecurities of another person. Especially

not one who played at being a warrior.

* * * *

Several hours later, Ethan blew out a slow breath as he walked off the stage. His heart

ached at the encroaching shadows he’d seen in Dean’s deep-blue eyes when he’d met him

earlier that day. Carla hadn’t lied. Her brother was drop dead gorgeous, and he was

available. Ethan couldn’t ask for more than that in a potential lover. But even though Ethan

was ready for a committed relationship, Dean was hardly his ideal man.

He was several inches shorter than Ethan’s own six-foot three-inch height, and while

long and lean with well defined muscles, it went against the type of man Ethan normally

went for—a man close to his own height with broad shoulders. He’d never been drawn to the

lithe, slender type before. Still, Dean oozed sensuality, with a mouth made for kissing. It had

taken all of Ethan’s will power not to claim him at their first touch.

Dean’s dark brown hair was cut short in a Marine Corps high and tight, so there was

nothing to hold onto. Not to mention he was a Marine. Ethan knew enough of them to know

they generally like to dominate. Ethan was submissive to no one. Then there were Dean’s

internal scars that had to be dealt with. Even if Carla hadn’t mentioned her concerns, he

knew there would be issues. Ethan knew from talking to Carla that Dean had been on his

third tour to Iraq. He’d noticed the tension radiating from Dean when he’d finally met the

man earlier. It confirmed his suspicions, which had been strengthened by Carla’s concerns.

While he didn’t know the cause, he was certain that crowds and loud noises bothered the

younger man. Ethan shook his head, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved. Spotting

Dean at the edge of the group of people that had stopped to watch, he moved towards the

man occupying his thoughts.

“Dean,” Ethan called out, placing a hand on Dean’s arm and descending the steps of the

stage, his best friend, Sean, trailing behind him. Keeping a hand on Dean’s back, Ethan

manoeuvred around him forcing Dean off the path and to the side, away from the crowd.

It had taken all of Ethan’s self-control to finish the scene and remain in character once

he’d seen the shadows rise in Dean’s eyes. He’d broken character as a short tempered knight

to let the other participants in the staged, but script-less scene know he needed out

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immediately. They had ended the short skit seamlessly without any hint of irregularity, for

which he was grateful. He didn’t want to call extra attention to Dean, but he could tell the

man was hurting. “This is a friend of mine, Sean Baker, AKA Lord Darken. This is Dean,

Carla’s brother.”

“Nice meeting you. Carla, it’s wonderful to see you again. Um, there’s a show starting

in a few minutes if you’re interested in joining me.”

Carla paused, looking from Sean to Dean and back again.

“Excellent idea, Darken! Carla, you and the kids go to the show with Sean, and I’m

going to show Dean around some more. We’ll meet you back at the fight list just before

four,” Ethan suggested, before he whispered in her ear that he’d take Dean away from the

crowd.

Carla nodded, and he and Dean watched the group leave.

“Ethan, I appreciate—”

“Follow me. I know a quiet place away from the faire,” Ethan said, pulling on Dean’s

arm. “Trust me. I’m just going to take you away from people and noise.”

Dean hesitated momentarily before following. Ethan led Dean slowly through the maze

of tents and buildings towards the back gate which led to the rest of the preserve and the

participants’ campsites. He stopped just out of sight of the gate guards.

“In order to get through the gate, you’ll need this.” Ethan produced a laminated card

that read ‘participant’. He’d simply told Sean he needed it for a friend and Sean had given

him the pass. Dean reached for the badge.

Ethan shook his head. “Let me.” He pinned it on Dean’s T-shirt, brushing a hand

against a nipple and feeling metal through the fabric. Mine. The claim surged forward

unexpectedly.

Dean inhaled sharply.

Ethan smiled. “I’m not going to hurt you. Carla would kill me.”

“Where are you taking me?” Dean demanded, a flurry of emotions flew across his face.

“Someplace quiet and safe,” he answered firmly. He knew Dean needed time away

from the noise and the crowd in order to regroup enough to make it through the rest of the

day. They left the faire and walked along the fence to a well-worn path in thick green woods.

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Chapter Two

Instincts warred. Survival was a priority, but something deeper drew Dean to Ethan.

Carla had written him about Ethan, and how they’d met, while keeping him abreast of the

mundane things going on her life. She’d never asked him what he was doing or where he

was, instead simply asking him to write back once in a while. The letters were a double-

edged sword, giving him something to look forward to and reminding him of what he was

missing and how life went on without him.

“Dean, come with me,” Ethan said. “You can trust me. Like I said, if I don’t behave

myself, your sister would have my head.”

“I can take it off without much trouble before she found out,” Dean replied, flatly.

Ethan took hold of his wrist and tugged. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Dean knew he could get away easily enough. So he nodded and allowed Ethan to lead

him along the path. They rounded a bend and crested the top of the hill. Tents of every

colour and size covered the clearing. In the distance were dozens of vehicles, varying in

make, model and condition. Ethan led him through the maze of campsites to a group of tents

forming a large circle around a fire pit. A metal coffee pot sat nearby in the dirt. Ethan moved

towards a large grey tent with a white and orange canopy over it.

“Have a seat,” Ethan said pointing towards the circle of camp chairs surrounding the

fire pit. “Everyone is gone, so it doesn’t matter which one.”

Dean’s gaze swept the site before he slowly lowered himself into the chair in front of

Ethan’s tent. Cocking his head, he listened for movement. Aside from the sounds of nature,

there was no sign of people in the area.

“Who do the rest of the tents belong to?” Dean asked, watching Ethan and feigning

curiosity. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, the nearness of the other man driving his

senses wild. He’d found other men attractive before and he’d slept with plenty, and never

had he reacted to any person this way. That he’d known Ethan only a few hours did nothing

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to ease his mind. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms, hoping the bite of

pain would clear his mind.

“This group,” Ethan replied, gesturing to the circle of tents, “belongs to us. The rest

belong to other participants, vendors, security detail, and the medics.”

“So not everyone stays on site?”

He blew out a breath as Ethan walked past him into the tent. What was he doing here?

He should be with Carla and the kids, not hiding from the world and drooling over one of

his sister’s best friends. He leant forward to get up and started when drops of ice cold water

hit the back of his neck.

“What the—” Dean spat, leaning on his cane and standing.

“Drink,” Ethan ordered, holding out a bottle of water. “And no, not everyone stays

here, but most do.”

“I’m not thirsty,” Dean protested, his back stiffening.

“Not a question.”

“I told you, I’m not thirsty.”

“Drink the whole bottle. Then either go lay down in my tent or you can stay put,” Ethan

stated, holding out the bottle of water. “Drink the water, or you’ll go down with heat stroke.”

“I’ve handled hotter,” Dean quipped, his cock stirring at Ethan’s command. He

swallowed his surprise.

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you will. You will take care of yourself.” Ethan set

a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Sit and drink.”

Dean found himself nodding, wanting to obey the other man. Lowering himself back

down into the chair, he watched Ethan pull another chair closer, facing him as he opened his

own bottle and sat down. The pair sat in companionable silence for several minutes.

“Do you stay here?” Dean asked.

“For the weekend, yes. I’ve thought about staying for the week since I’m due for a

vacation, but Caleb would flip if I actually took one.” Ethan sat back in the chair, crossing an

ankle over one knee.

“Caleb?”

“Caleb Townsend, one of my business partners.” Ethan drained his bottled, capped it,

stood and tossed it into a plastic bag hanging on the side of his tent. On the way back, he

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reached down, cupped Dean’s chin, pulled him forward and kissed him softly. Ethan’s

tongue slipped between his teeth, thrusting in, exploring. Tasting. Sampling. Gently taking

his pleasure. Dean moaned.

Reluctantly, Ethan let him go, stood and walked back to his chair.

“Wonderful.” Ethan smiled. “As good as I imagined.”

They passed the time, alternating between companionable silence and talking about

mundane subjects. He wondered what it would be like to wake up beside someone every day

for the rest of his life. To love and be loved, truly loved, in return. Blowing out a breath, he

clenched and unclenched his fists. Love wasn’t in the cards, not his deck anyway.

* * * *

“Ready to go back to the faire?” Dean asked capping the empty water bottle.

Ethan nodded and stood. Dean waited, hoping Ethan would turn away from him. Dean

sighed when he didn’t and braced himself for the inevitable physical pain and Ethan’s pity

before struggling to his feet. The muscles in his damaged leg protested the movement. He

paused, his fist tightened around the handle of the cane. Finally standing, he inhaled deeply

and looked at Ethan, Dean was surprised to see lust, not pity or disgust, in the other man’s

eyes.

Ethan waited for him to pass by, and placed a hand on Dean’s lower back. Instinctively,

Dean curled back into it, the possessiveness in the touch releasing some of the tension in his

body.

“Your sister will want to stay until the end for the drum circle,” Ethan said quietly.

“I know. I’m still trying to figure out why.”

“I think she found solace here. Those kids have practically been raised at the faire.”

Dean nodded. He knew as much, she’d mentioned the Renaissance Faire in several of

her letters. Her divorce from Rob had been hard and painful, and he’d been happy for her

when she’d found a new group of friends and begun to rebuild her life. “She suggested I

might want to drive separately.”

“But you didn’t.”

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Dean shook his head. She’d warned him, but it had meant a lot to her for him to come,

so he’d obliged, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake. At first, he’d thought he had, but looking

at the man dressed in armour walking beside him, he was glad he hadn’t listened.

“A group of us, specifically the Knights Of Steel, their families, and most likely Carla

and the kids, are going to dinner after the faire. Will you join me?”

Dean stopped, frozen in place. He’d been around people all day, and he wasn’t sure if

he could deal with more of them. Not a whole group in a restaurant. He didn’t like

restaurants, preferring to stay in, rather than going out. He knew Carla would be upset, but

he was past comfortable and tolerable limits now. “I don’t think—”

“Trust me. Come with me.”

Emotions ran rampant through him. He trusted his buddies, guys he knew that would

always have his back and would be there if he ever needed it. He didn’t know if he could

trust Ethan. Dean shook his head, he didn’t know if he wanted to trust Ethan that much. The

thought of twenty or more people in an enclosed space with no way out, had his palms and

his heart racing. His breath cramped in his chest. The black edge of memories pressed in

around him. The weight of his brothers and weapons pushed down on him, threatening to

consume him.

Strong metal arms wrapped around him, pulling him against an armour-plated wall.

“Shh…, you’re safe, Dean.” Lips pressed to his neck. “I promise nothing will happen to

you. If it gets too much, I will drive you home myself.”

“It’s too much,” Dean shuddered. He needed solitude, not people. He refused to look

closely at why or how Ethan’s presence, his arms binding him, provided him a measure of

peace and comfort he hadn’t known in more years than he wanted to count. He allowed

Ethan to hold him, pushing the memories and hell away.

“You need to eat anyway. If nothing else, you can learn just what sort of people your

sister is hanging out with,” Ethan said, running his fingertips along Dean’s forearms after

he’d calmed down. “And potentially dating, if Sean has his way.”

Reluctantly, Dean nodded, knowing he’d regret his decision later.

* * * *

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Ethan watched Dean shift uncomfortably in his chair as their waitress cleared empty

dinner dishes from the mass of tables. He’d called and had Tanner rearrange the tables and

chairs in the back room to allow for Dean to be seated at the end of the table, walls to his

back but able to look out and see the whole room and whoever was about to come through

the door. It shamed Ethan that he hadn’t considered the layout of the room before. What else

had he missed because he hadn’t seen how something affected someone? He’d prided

himself on his observational skills. It was one of the reasons Smugglers’ Cove was as

successful as it was in such a short amount of time. The handful of regulars always received

the same seats, and Tanner and the wait staff routinely chased people away from their places.

“Mr. Moreland, is there a problem?” blond-haired Tanner Hopkins asked, walking up

to him.

Ethan glanced at the tavern’s manager. His dark-blond hair had been cut too short, and

his blue eyes had a haunted quality to them. “No. Make sure I get the bill for Carla, the kids,

and her brother—he’s the one in the Marine T-shirt,” Ethan said, gesturing to the corner

where the group sat.

Dean’s gaze hadn’t stopped moving since they had arrived. It bothered Ethan to know

Dean never felt safe. How many others felt uneasy because the layout of the tables added to

the burden of what they carried? It was a layout that was convenient for the wait-staff. Many

of the patrons sat with their backs to the door as well as to other people, a position of lethal

vulnerability in the eyes of combat veterans. “And keep this layout for a while. I think we’ve

inadvertently made some of our patrons uncomfortable.”

“May I ask who, Mr. Moreland?” Tanner asked, his gaze shifting around the room.

“Would it be out of line for the house to pick up the bill for the Marine?”

Ethan had given up asking Tanner to call him by his first name. The other man simply

wouldn’t do it. He’d been hired two years ago as a waiter by his other business partner Marc

Brody for reasons both men had kept to themselves. In the beginning, the secrets combined

with Marc’s refusal to talk to either he or Caleb about it and the abrupt decision had strained

their partnership, but Tanner had stepped up to the challenge and quickly became manager

and indispensable to the company.

“Yes, the house can pick up his bill. I’ll initial it later. Write the name Dean at the top so

I’ll remember and set it aside. And the answer to your question is returning soldiers.”

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Tanner looked horrified at the idea. “I-I…”

“Calm down Tanner,” Ethan said, laying a hand on the other man’s arm. “None of us

thought of it. Keep your eyes open, my guess is they’ll most likely prefer backs to walls and

eyes on exits.”

Tanner nodded and walked away, speaking briefly to Heidi, one of their waitresses.

Ethan turned and made his way back to the tables. He normally hated to be boxed in, but he

sensed Dean needed the escape route more than he did. Brushing his fingers across Dean’s

neck and shoulders, he took his seat. He knew Dean had been pushed well past his comfort

level and while he was certain one day Dean would trust him enough to sit on the inside,

tonight was not that time.

“You ready to leave?” he asked, leaning over.

“Yes.” Relief washed over Dean’s face.

“Good, then let’s get you out of here,” Ethan said, sliding back his chair.

“What about Carla and the kids? I haven’t even gotten my bill yet.”

“Carla has a car so they’ll be fine, and here come the bills.”

Heidi appeared with a stack of small black cheque holders in hand. “Here are dessert

menus, if you’re interested, and your bills when you’re ready. I can still add to them, so there

is no hurry,” she said, placing the menus at the ends of the long table, before passing out the

bills. “Ma’am, your bill has been taken care of.” Heidi handed the last book to Ethan. “Sir,”

she turned to Dean and smiled, “yours is on the house. A small way of saying thank you.”

Ethan withdrew his credit card, slid it into the book and handed it back to her. Beside

him, Dean had withdrawn from the conversation around him. It was definitely time to get

him out of here. He knew the others would be staying at least another hour or so before

returning to the campsite and he’d already told Sean that he wouldn’t be returning to the

campground that night. He’d made the decision to bring Dean home with him on the way to

restaurant.

“Ethan!” Carla turned and glared at him.

“What? I’m innocent,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered.

The adults at the table burst out laughing. Sean tried hard not to spit out his drink.

“You are so far from innocent, it isn’t even funny.”

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“The only thing I did was ask for our bills. Dean’s Marine Corps T-shirt gave him away

as a Marine.”

Heidi brought back his bill, and he signed it quickly. He stuck one copy in his pocket

and the other in the book before returning it to her.

“And with that, I think we’re going to head out,” he said, standing.

“We?” Sean asked, his head snapping around.

“Yes, we. I’m going to give Dean a lift home. I will see you all in the morning.” Ethan

stood, laying a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He found himself touching the man, wanting to

take away the burden he carried. Ethan blew out a breath, he knew better. He knew he

should be putting distance between them, not finding excuses to stay with him, but he

couldn’t seem to stop himself. He’d been thrilled when Dean had watched their last fight of

the day and he had faced Dean when he’d knelt to honour the one he’d fought for.

Ethan rolled his shoulders and knew his body would be bruised in the morning from

the beating it had taken. Winding through the maze of tables and booths, he managed to get

out of the bar without being stopped. It wasn’t as though the rest of the group didn’t know

that he was co-owner of Smugglers’ Cove. They had been with him during the first hard

years when he was certain they were going to lose everything and in the last few years when

the yuppies had discovered it, trying to squeeze out the college crowd, and turning it into a

financial success. He wasn’t sure how much Dean knew or didn’t know, but he found

himself wanting to get to know Dean without any titles attached. To see if Carla’s notions of

happily ever after and soul mates actually existed, and if there was one for him.

* * * *

Dean followed Ethan outside to a dark blue Ford Ranger Super Cab. Knowing, Carla

might be out for a while longer, he needed to grab his stuff from her car and began walking

towards her sedan.

“It’s in the back,” Ethan called out, opening the driver’s side door.

Stopping and turning, he looked up, confused. “What is?”

“Your stuff. I moved it over earlier.”

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“You did what? You had no right!” Anger surged through him. There were things he

didn’t want anyone to know. Ethan had no right to go through his stuff.

“I did it right after your sister got the call from your parents. They are taking the kids

tonight until next weekend. I knew she’d want to stay out, and I knew you didn’t. I have to

take care of a few things at the house tonight, so it worked out. And as for your stuff, I didn’t

look through it.”

Dean stood stunned. His parents were driving down to get the kids? He’d assumed

they were going to go away for their vacation this week, not have their grandkids up. He

knew Carla needed the break. She’d likely spend the week working extra shifts and enjoying

the relative silence.

“Get in the truck,” Ethan ordered.

Numbly, Dean obeyed, the anger draining nearly as fast as it surged forward.

“As for your bag and secrets, I was with Carla when your parents called the last time

you were shot. It tore her up,” Ethan said softly, turning on the truck.

Dean heard his voice catch. It had affected him. His anger started to rise again. He

didn’t need or want anyone’s pity or sympathy. “It’s no one’s businesses. Take me to Carla’s

place. Now.”

Ethan pulled out of the parking lot, and the two sat in tense silence. “It is the business

of the people who love and care about you. Not that you need anything else to think about.

The first time you were shot was bad enough, the second time she fell to her knees in the

middle of the bar. She screamed at me for three hours for not taking her to where you were,

regardless of the fact that you weren’t even state-side yet.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Dean snapped. He’d been able to read the pain and

devastation in his family’s faces. He didn’t need to be reminded of it.

“Because you need to hear it.”

”What in the hell are you talking about?” Dean shouted.

Ethan sighed. “The bar we just left—”

“Smugglers’ Cove?”

Ethan nodded, continuing. “She was there. It was a company party. The whole place

stopped dead. They’d adopted you and your unit as theirs, and everyone wanted to know

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how you were and what they could do to help. As for the rest, instead of telling everyone

everything, Carla told me and I left out most of it when I gave progress updates.”

“I didn’t ask to belong to anybody.” Anger rose from the pit of stomach, threatening to

engulf him.

“No, you didn’t. But those of us left behind, wanted to be able to help in any way we

could, because most of us can’t be there.”

Dean stared out the window, unconvinced. He didn’t go into the Marines to be a hero,

didn’t ask to be one or to belong to anyone else. It was hard enough facing his family, but to

know that others claimed him also, overwhelmed him. The cab of the truck began to close in

around him. His heart pounded in his chest, blocking out all sound. His lungs tightened,

making breathing nearly impossible. He needed to get out, away from everyone. Blindly, he

reached for the door handle.

“No!” A hand grabbed his wrist and pulled. Wind rushed his face. “Breathe, baby, just

breathe.” The hand let go of his wrist and rubbed his stomach. His body clenched when the

hand went to reach beneath his shirt. Immediately, it returned to the top of his shirt,

continuing its ministrations. His body relaxed, his heart slowed down, and the pressure in

his chest loosened.

“Where are we?” he asked, finally looking around.

“You’re staying with me tonight,” Ethan said firmly, pulling to a stop in the driveway

of a large two-storey white house with black shutters.

“No. I’m. Not.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight, and I need to get into regular clothes and get some

work done, which I can’t do at Carla’s.” Ethan turned off the truck and hopped out.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Dean tracked Ethan’s movements as he closed the driver side door, walked around,

and yanked open Dean’s door. “No, you don’t need a babysitter, but after trying to jump out

of the truck on the highway, you are going to spend the night here, where you won’t be alone

and can be reasonably safe,” Ethan ground out.

Dean opened and closed his mouth, puzzled. He’d tried to open the door of the truck?

He searched Ethan’s face, transfixed by the near-black eyes. Ethan’s body radiated worry,

fear and something Dean couldn’t put his finger on, but he wasn’t lying. Dean sighed. He

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didn’t have a lot options right now. He could call a cab, but he knew he’d be fine in the

morning, as long as he could get a good night’s sleep.

“Either in my bed or in the guest room, but you will stay with me tonight.” Ethan

reached up and took his hand.

Resigned, Dean climbed out of the truck. He knew he’d be fine once he got some sleep.

The confidence and warmth that radiated from Ethan disappeared when their hands

dropped. Dean leaned on his cane and waited, while Ethan opened the rear passenger door

and withdrew Dean’s duffle bag. Dean scowled and followed Ethan inside.

“Are you up for a tour of the place?” Ethan asked, locking the door behind them.

Dean nodded. He wanted to sleep, but it was more important to know the layout of the

house. He followed Ethan through the house, committing the floor plan to memory. He made

his way slowly up the stairs, biting back the pain radiating from his battered leg.

Ethan pointed out the bathroom, both guest rooms, and the master suite.

He stopped outside the master bedroom. “I’m not going to lie to you, I want you in my

bed, but I’m not going to force you. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you this morning,”

Closing the distance between them, Ethan’s hand snaked up Dean’s side and around his

neck, pulling him closer, kissing him deep and hard. “Stay with me,” Ethan whispered, his

tongue flicking over Dean’s ear.

Dean’s cock hardened at the seductive invitation. It’d been just over two years since

he’d had sex. Longing and desire pooled in his groin.

“I can’t,” he answered. He wanted to—God, did he want to—but he couldn’t. No one

outside of his doctors and therapists had seen his body, and he wanted to keep it that way.

“Stay in my bed, sleep, no sex,” Ethan offered, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“At least, sit down for a bit.”

Dean let himself be led into the bedroom and gently pushed onto the king-sized, four-

poster bed. The room was done in light blues, with heavy dark furniture. “Nice.”

“Thank you. Would you like a glass of water?” Ethan asked, looking at his watch.

Dean nodded. “I need my bag.”

Ethan handed him the bag he’d still carried then disappeared into the large bathroom.

Dean dug out a pill bottle, palmed two then shoved it back into the bag. Ethan returned

moments later with the glass of water and blue fabric. “Water, and sleep pants,” Ethan said,

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handing both over. “If you have medication you need to take, go ahead and take it now, and

I’ll take care of the glass for you.”

Dean frowned, nodded obediently, swallowed the pills then drank down half of the

water.

“I have to take care of a few things downstairs. Go ahead and lay down,” Ethan said,

kissing him again.

Dean waited until he was alone before undressing. Silently, he slipped out of his clothes

and into the cotton pants then climbed under the covers. He rubbed his lips with his

fingertips, trying to capture and retain Ethan’s warmth. Images of Ethan’s body flooded his

mind.

Reaching down, he grasped his hard cock with one hand, while the other found a

nipple, playing with the ring, twisting and pulling, relishing the pain. Pulling on his

engorged cock, he imagined Ethan ramming into his ass, claiming him. Pre-cum leaked from

the tip. Using his fingers, he rubbed it down his shaft, stroking harder and faster. His balls

drew up. He yanked on one of his nipple rings. Ethan’s name ripped from Dean’s throat as

his orgasm exploded from him. Cum landed on his chest and stomach. Pulling off his shirt,

he cleaned himself off and tossed the shirt into his bag. Tucking his cock back into the pants,

he leant back against the headboard.

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Chapter Three

Ethan readjusted himself and tiptoed away from the door. He’d forgotten to mention

something and had caught Dean jacking off. Ethan’s instincts warred. He wanted to go in

and stake his claim on Dean, but he wasn’t sure if the other man was ready for it. He wanted,

needed, to protect the man. He wanted Dean on his knees, wearing his collar.

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure if Dean could handle that part of his

lifestyle. Shit, he wasn’t sure if Dean could handle or even wanted a relationship.

Taking a deep breath, he trudged down the stairs to his office. Sitting down at the desk,

he thought about the scene he’d just witnessed. He wanted nothing more than to spend the

night making love to Dean. Instead, he trapped himself in his office, hoping his erection

would go down enough to let him sleep. He flipped on the computer and ran a hand through

his hair.

He answered several emails, checked the incoming taste-tester surveys, and a report

from Tanner, while his mind was occupied with the Marine in his bed. He needed to take

things slow. Dean wasn’t like other men he’d dated or fucked. He was a complication.

Ethan groaned. Any thought of Dean and his muscled body had him rock hard.

Standing, he flipped off his computer, made sure the house was locked, and went upstairs.

Dean sat propped up against the headboard, eyes closed and fast asleep. The covers had

slipped to his waist, revealing a sculpted chest and abs. Angry scars ran along his left

shoulder and arm. Rings pierced both nipples. Tattoos decorated his body. A large, ink dog

tag wrapped around the right side of his torso and a Marine Corps globe and anchor design

was on his right shoulder.

Ethan cursed under his breath and moved silently to the bathroom. He needed to take a

shower and wash the sweat, dirt, and grime off his body from the faire then he was going to

get to know Dean better. His already hard cock strained against his pants.

Thirty minutes later, he stood at the foot of the four-poster bed, a towel wrapped

around his body. He’d jerked off in the shower to images of Dean squirming beneath him,

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yielding to him, in order to make the night last as long as possible. He wanted Dean and

knew the other man wanted him. He’d made the decision in the shower to introduce Dean to

the BDSM lifestyle using light BDSM techniques combined with tantric sex in order to gauge

Dean’s reactions and whether the man would be willing to give up control and embrace the

submissive core Ethan had glimpsed that afternoon. He knew without a doubt he wanted

Dean in his life, but he was too much of a dominant be happy and satisfied in a traditional,

vanilla relationship.

Decision made, Ethan gently sat down on the edge of the bed and lapped at the exposed

nipple, gently pulling on the ring. Dean moaned. Ethan moved to the other nipple, eliciting

another moan.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked. Traces of sleep and exhaustion edged his voice.

Ethan released his hold on the nipple he’d been playing with and looked up at Dean.

His eyes were wide open, searching. Ethan captured his mouth in a brutal kiss.

“I’m giving you a gift. I want you to accept it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “A gift? What kind of gift?”

“A pleasing one,” he replied, emphasising the pleasing part. Ethan rubbed a hand on

Dean’s stirring cock through the covers.

“What do you have in mind?”

Ethan shook his. “It’s a surprise.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow, “I don’t like surprises.”

“This one won’t be bad. I simply intend to give you a night of pleasure, hopefully

intense pleasure, starting with a shower and a massage.” Ethan smiled. He hadn’t intended

to give Dean any hints of what to expect, but the startled look in the man’s eyes had changed

his mind. Ethan put a finger on his lips to stop any argument. “Let’s take it one step at a time.

At any point—any point—you want me to stop, I will.”

“Just like that? I say stop, and you’ll stop?”

“No. Your safe word is watermelon. If you say your safe word, I’ll stop just like that.”

“Why?”

Ethan captured Dean’s chin and kissed him. “Because, honey, tonight, isn’t suppose to

hurt or make you uncomfortable. Tonight is for your pleasure only.”

“And what do you get out of it?”

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Ethan smiled, nibbled on Dean’s ear and moved off from the bed.

“Come with me,” Ethan said pulling the covers back.

“Where are we going?”

“Shower.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t I take my shower alone?” Dean asked, swinging his legs off the bed.

“No. Tonight you are to give nothing,” he replied, leaning down to kiss Dean. Ethan’s

gaze caught sight of the scars criss-crossing Dean’s shoulder and arm. He traced the mass of

scars with his fingers, before kissing two particularly bad ones. Tonight, he would drive

Dean over the edge in sensual overload. Dean nodded, hesitantly. Ethan grabbed Dean’s

cane and handed it to him then led the way into the master bathroom.

Capturing Dean’s mouth, Ethan ran his hands across Dean’s muscular back. Pulling

away, he lightly raked Dean’s chest and abdomen with his nails before sliding his hand into

the waistband of the sleep pants, eliciting a moan. Kneeling before Dean, Ethan began to

slide down the pants.

“Please, don’t.” Dean protested. “I—”

Ethan stood, holding Dean’s gaze. “Shh… What’s wrong, love?”

Dean shifted and looked down at his feet. “Please don’t take my pants off,” he pleaded.

Ethan walked behind Dean, sat down on the toilet seat then pulled Dean into his lap.

“What don’t you want me to see?” Ethan asked, rubbing Dean’s back. He already knew

the answer, but he needed Dean to tell him, to trust him.

“I don’t like anyone seeing me. There are too many scars, okay?” Dean stared at the

floor, refusing to meet his gaze.

“No, it’s not okay,” Ethan said firmly. “I know there are scars and that you’re still

healing. I have a pretty good idea what to expect. I’ve seen photos of bullet injuries and

surgery scars. That doesn’t change the fact that you have a magnificent body or the fact that I

want to fuck the hell out of you. Nor does it have any impact on what I want to do tonight.

You may not want to look at your body, but I do. Let me pleasure you tonight. You have

your safe word, you can say it at anytime, when it becomes too much to bear. You say it, I

stop. Done. No questions asked. Let me do this for you.”

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He watched Dean struggle with the decision. He knew he was pushing, knew that Dean

needed to accept what had happened. He also knew Dean needed to know that his body was

still sexy and pleasing. Safe words were important, especially in scenes and new

relationships. However, Ethan knew that within the D/s relationship he wanted, there

would be no safe word between them because there would be complete trust on both sides.

“What do you mean done? How done?”

Ethan shrugged. “I will stop what I’m doing, undo whatever I’ve done and let you

sleep.”

“What about you?”

“That’s not for you to worry or think about. Up you go. A shower will relax you. You

can float in the tub tomorrow.” Ethan smacked the side of his ass.

Dean yelped and stood. Ethan grinned, stood, opened the glass door and turned on the

dual-headed shower. While he waited for the water to warm up, he ran his hands over

Dean’s body. He trailed his fingernails up the sides of Dean’s arms and down his bare chest.

Ethan pulled loose the drawstring on the pants and tugged them down to the floor. Snug

black boxer-briefs trapped Dean’s erect cock against his body. Ethan teased it with his

fingers, his gaze travelling down Dean’s body, drinking him in.

“Gorgeous,” Ethan groaned. He let his gaze rest on the leg Dean had been favouring.

Long, puckered lines criss-crossed it from just below the hip to the knee, the scars wrapped

around his leg, a strong indicator of how close he’d come to losing it. After planting a kiss in

the middle of the mass, Ethan turned his ministrations back to undressing Dean. Slowly, he

drew the underwear down, planting kisses on Dean’s hips, blowing gently on the head of

Dean’s cock. Ethan removed first one foot from the tangle of clothes then the other, allowing

Dean to grab his shoulders for support. Standing, Ethan led Dean into the shower.

“You shave?” Ethan asked, his fingers trailing over the hairless groin.

“Um, yes. They did part of it for surgery. I like the feeling…”

“Perfect.”

“A bench in your shower?”

Ethan smiled and nodded. “The family I bought the house from removed a bedroom to

add this bathroom and a walk-in closet for elderly parents. I have other ideas for it. Stand in

the middle.”

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Dean obeyed. Still confused about the use of a safe word, wondering why Ethan

wouldn’t stop when he just said no, yet some part of him wanted to trust Ethan. He watched

as Ethan dropped the towel and stepped into the shower behind him.

“Stay put.”

Dean nodded his body tense, ready to fight if needed. Ethan moved away, the heat

from his body noticeably missing. Hands rubbing together were the only signal that Ethan

had returned. Strong hands pulled his head back slightly and massaged his scalp and neck.

Closing his eyes, the tension in his body began to ease while Ethan’s fingers manipulated his

head. He stood still and let Ethan wash and rinse his hair and body. His cock hardened. He

groaned when a finger entered his asshole. It’d been too long since anyone or anything had

breached him—since the morning he’d caught Brad in bed with another guy six months

before his last deployment. Dean swore to himself, pushing the memory away, not wanting

to ruin the intense feelings. Light fingers grazed his arms sending shivers coursing through

his body.

“Wait.”

The water was turned off, and the shower door opened. Dean opened his eyes, and

watched Ethan dry off. He was gorgeous. He hadn’t seen him before, hadn’t wanted to see

anything. Bruises mottled his legs and arms. A large Asian-styled stalking tiger surrounded

on one side by a jungle and a city on the other was tattooed on his right shoulder.

“What the—”

“Shh…” Ethan whispered, towelling Dean off before wrapping him in a dry soft towel.

Dean grabbed the cane, cursing the need to use it, and followed Ethan back into the

bedroom. His leg throbbed, the pain dulled substantially by medication. Ethan removed the

towel and had him lay on his stomach. A moment later, knees pressed beside his hips,

weight settled on his butt. Ethan’s cock lay against his skin, moving slightly when Ethan did.

“Relax and no squirming,” Ethan whispered, flicking a tongue across Dean’s ear.

Warmth seeped into Dean’s muscles as Ethan’s large hands pushed and pulled massaging

Dean’s body. He closed his eyes. Fingers slid along his hole without penetrating. Ethan

worked his arms and torso before spending several long minutes on his damaged leg. Ethan

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had him flip onto his back then repeated his ministrations before turning his attention back

to Dean’s scarred flesh.

Dean had never had a lover or a boyfriend give him a massage. Hell, he was sure that

no one he’d dated would be willing to look at the mangled limb or deal with any of the

possible complications. He’d tried to touch Ethan several times, but the man had shaken his

head no every time.

Energy drained, he let his limbs lay where Ethan had placed them. Ethan sat back down

on the bed, close to his chest. Dean opened his eyes. He hadn’t been paying attention when

Ethan had gotten off the bed. He’d been enjoying the talented fingers, pulling the tension

from his body.

“I want you to put this on.” Ethan held out a black scrap of fabric.

“What is it?”

“A sleep mask.”

Dean pushed himself up on his elbows. “Why do I need that? I can sleep anywhere.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to sleep right now or not. Tension gone, his body relished the

contact. His cock did at any rate.

“It’s not for sleeping. It’s to heighten your awareness,” Ethan said. “I was going to put it

on you, but I think you should do it.”

Dean nodded, taking the mask. He took carefully inventory of his senses and body,

making sure everything was normal, that he hadn’t been drugged, before putting the mask

over his eyes. He knew he could overpower Ethan if he needed to. He’d get hurt more than

likely, but he could beat him. Letting himself go on instinct, he lay back down on the bed and

waited.

Something soft and light ran over his body, limb by limb, glancing across his engorged

penis. Ethan gently grabbed one wrist and let a long strip of fabric run through his fingers.

“Silk?” Dean asked, cocking his head to where Ethan sat.

“Yes. I’m going to try something. You know what to say if it’s too much.”

Dean nodded his head, wondering at the possibilities. Realisation dawned. He’d heard

about bondage and had seen pictures. He admitted to being curious, but had never

experienced it. He’d certainly never admitted it to anyone. Especially since he wondered

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what it was like to be tied up. The idea terrified and excited him at the same time. “You’re

going to tie me up with those.”

“Yes. Are you up for it?”

“Are you planning on beating me?” Dean asked, longing to see Ethan’s face.

“I don’t beat people, not even my slaves. Flogging, spanking, and cropping aren’t the

same as beating. I have no reason to flog you. You’re not my slave yet. I just want to you to

feel, nothing more and nothing less.”

Dean weighed the words. Beside him, Ethan continued to hold his wrist, tracing a

finger along his arm. Did Dean want to take a chance and trust Ethan that much? Could he?

Dean took a deep breath and nodded, slowly. It was his body, not his heart. His body could

break free of the flimsy silk bonds, his heart would be lost if he let it. He had no intention of

trusting his heart with another man.

His heart pounded in his chest waiting for Ethan to tie the silk tight around his wrist.

The fabric dropped into a puddle on his groin. Ethan rubbed his cock through the fabric

before pulling it across his body. He moaned and waited while Ethan tied each limb with

fabric. He guessed that the other ends were secured to the bed frame.

Ethan’s tongue flicked at his nipple, causing it to pebble. “Stay quiet. I’m going to go

grab a few things. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Dean nodded and listened while Ethan left the bedroom. Around him sounds

amplified. Some he could identify, others he couldn’t. He was unsure of how much time

passed until he heard Ethan’s footsteps in the hall, but he knew it hadn’t been as long as it

had seemed.

“Ethan,” he said simply when the footsteps crossed the threshold into the bedroom.

“Silence now, no more talking, love,” Ethan said, capturing Dean’s mouth in a kiss.

Dean moaned. Teasing fingers quickly morphed into slivers of sensations layered on

top of one another. Soft and gentle alternated with rough and hard. Heat followed by ice.

Ethan kissed and traced every visible scar and tattoo. Dean’s cock was hard and dripping

pre-cum, and Ethan hadn’t even touched it. Dean groaned and thrust up his hips. Need

grew. From the slight indention in the mattress, he knew Ethan was now between his spread

legs. God, Dean needed to come. He wanted Ethan’s cock in him. Strong fingers wrapped

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around his cock, stroking. Ethan’s breath blew across the head before engulfing it. Dean tried

to thrust his hips up, but Ethan’s strong hands prevented it. Ethan’s tongue laved his cock.

“Ah!” Dean yelled straining against his bonds. “Coming!”

A finger pushed against his hole. Ethan sucked him harder. Dean shot deep into Ethan’s

throat, shuddered then fell back to the bed. Ethan’s mouth milked the last remains of cum

from him, before wordlessly leaving the bed. Moments later, the blindfold was removed.

Dean blinked rapidly, allowing his eyes to the light. He turned his head from side to side

only the bedside lamps were on. He smiled and laid his head back.

“You didn’t come,” Dean said, watching Ethan’s movements.

“The night is young,” Ethan answered, removing the ties from Dean’s arms and legs.

Ethan shook his head when Dean started to pull in his limbs. Gently, he massaged each of

Dean’s arms and legs, placing them in a more comfortable position.

“Fuck me?” Dean begged.

“What?”

“You heard me. I want you to fuck me. It’s been too many years since I’ve had a cock up

my ass, and that would make the night perfect.”

Ethan nodded. “I won’t promise to be gentle.”

Dean smiled. “Just start slow. I’ve never taken anything that big.”

Getting off the bed, Ethan retrieved a bottle of lube and a condom from the drawer in

the nightstand.

Dean laid a hand on Ethan’s arm. “Let me.”

Ethan paused for a moment then nodded. Dean sat up, moving to get into a better

position, before sucking on Ethan’s cock. It was bigger than he was used to, and he was

worried about being able to handle it all. Ethan moaned, laying a hand on Dean’s head.

Pulling off Ethan, Dean opened the foil packet and rolled the condom onto Ethan’s cock.

Dean squirted lube on his hand before handing the bottle back to Ethan. He lubed Ethan’s

cock before turning his fingers towards his own hole. Ethan swatted his hand away and knelt

between his legs. Dean lay back against the bed and pulled his knees up, moaning when

Ethan’s tongue slid into him. It was like nothing he’d ever felt.

“Never been rimmed?” Ethan asked, pausing to look up at him.

Dean shook his. “N-no.”

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Ethan mumbled something, turning his attention back to Dean’s ass. Ethan’s tongue

swirled around the outside of his hole, slipping in and out. Dean clung to the sensations

moving through him. He wanted, needed more. Ethan moved, and a lubed digit slid into

Dean. Dean’s ass clenched against the welcomed intrusion. After finger fucking him for

several minutes, Ethan added a second. Dean’s cock began to harden. Ethan added a third

then a fourth.

“Ah! Please!” Dean pleaded, pushing his ass onto Ethan’s hand, needing to be filled.

Dean whimpered at the loss of Ethan’s fingers. Resting his legs on Ethan’s arms, he

moaned as Ethan’s large cock inched its way into his ass. Ethan’s grip on Dean’s hips

tightened, his cock disappearing into the tight passage. He waited for a moment for Dean to

get used to him. Dean nodded, and he withdrew. Plunging back in, Dean gasped and

reached for the headboard. Ethan released his grip on one hip and toyed with the rings in

Dean’s nipples. Ethan found his rhythm. Releasing Dean’s nipples, Ethan wrapped a hand

around Dean’s cock and pumped.

“Harder,” Dean begged.

Ethan obliged, pegging Dean’s prostate. Dean cried out, cum shooting out of his cock

and landing on his chest and stomach. Thrusting hard, Ethan came. Letting Dean’s legs

down, Ethan leaned over and kissed Dean, evidence of their love making smeared between

their bodies.

“That was amazing. I’ve never done it in that position before,” Dean said when they

parted.

“What? You should’ve told me. I would’ve gone slower,” Ethan said, pushing himself

up to look at Dean’s eyes.

“I didn’t want slow and gentle. I wanted hard and rough.” Dean smiled.

Ethan slipped out of Dean’s body. Scowling, he pushed back and got off the bed. He

returned quickly with a warm, wet washcloth. Quickly, he cleaned them both, before

throwing the washcloth into the bathroom.

“Don’t be mad. I needed it that way. It balanced out that slow torture you put me

through.”

“Love, you need to tell me things like that,” Ethan replied, running a hand over Dean’s

face. “Under the covers with you. I should spank you for that.”

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Dean smiled, eyes twinkling, as he scooted under the covers. Ethan smacked Dean’s

bare ass before he turned out the light and followed him, collapsing with his arms around

Dean.

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Chapter Four

“No!”

Ethan woke with a start. Beside him, Dean thrashed and called out in his sleep. His

arms covered his head. Immediately, Ethan turned on the light next to him, glancing at the

clock and the glaring red lights that read four o’clock, before turning to wrap the struggling

man in his arms. Ethan held him tight, whispering into Dean’s ear.

“Dean, love, wake up.” Ethan rubbed his back. “Dean, wake up.”

Dean burrowed into his chest. Ethan’s heart ached at the torment his lover was going

through. Dean pushed at his chest, but Ethan held fast. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ethan?”

“I’m right here, love. Open your eyes.”

“It was horrible. I—”

“Shh…” Ethan cooed, stroking the trembling body against him.

“So many bodies, so much blood.”

Ethan held him tight. Dean curled into his chest. His eyes were glassy and unfocused

with a dreamlike quality to them.

“Couldn’t stop it. Then they were on top of me. Couldn’t breathe. Blood. Metal. Stone.

Should’ve seen it coming.”

Ethan rocked back and forth, continuing to rub Dean’s back. A tear escaped down

Ethan’s cheek. How much had his man seen? What had happened over there? Ethan shook

his head. He didn’t need to know that, wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. If Dean wanted

to tell him, he would listen, but he wasn’t going to pry.

Ethan had seen enough photos to know a portion of what Dean had faced. He kissed

the top of Dean’s head. Never again would Ethan let Dean face the demons of his past alone.

Even if Dean never told him what happened, Ethan wasn’t going to let him go. Dean

belonged with him. To him. Ethan inhaled, what he needed to was to figure out how to help

Dean through this.

“You did nothing wrong, love,” Ethan whispered into Dean’s ear.

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Dean shook his head. “I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve stopped it.”

Ethan took a deep breath and lifted Dean’s chin, until their eyes met. “Dean, I want you

to focus on me. On my voice,” Ethan demanded, continuing to rub Dean’s back. He watched

Dean slowly blinked his eyes and focused on his face. Dean stared wide-eyed at him before

trying to push him away. Ethan strengthened his grip. The lost look faded, replaced

momentarily by an unnamed emotion. Blank eyes stared up at him, before turning back to

his chest.

“God, you must think I’m either weak or a nut case.” Dean pushed at Ethan’s chest, his

face downcast.

“Neither. I think you’ve faced more than you should have in a very short period of

time.”

“Um…would…would you fuck me again?” Dean asked quietly.

Ethan smiled. “No, but I’ll make love to you.” He rolled them over then he placed

Dean’s hands above his head, telling him to hold onto the headboard and keep them there.

Cock hard, Ethan kissed and licked his way down from Dean’s ear, across his jaw, over his

chest, paying attention to his nipples, toying with the rings, before making his way across the

muscular abs to Dean’s hairless groin. Ethan laved and suckled each ball before slipping the

tip of Dean’s cock into his mouth. Dean moaned and arched his hips up. Ethan took Dean’s

full length into his mouth. Ethan tilted his head just enough to see Dean’s face. His knuckles

were white from gripping the headboard, lines of pain disappearing into pleasure. Ethan

turned his attention back to Dean’s cock, sucking it until he was sure Dean was close to

coming then lifting off from Dean.

“Ah! I was so close!”

Ethan smiled, fished the lube and a condom from the drawer and placed both items on

Dean’s chest. “Not now, love. Release your hands and get me ready,” Ethan said straddling

Dean. Ethan closed his eyes, listening as the foil packet was ripped open and the latex rolled

on. Dean’s hands wandered over his cock and grazed his balls, spreading lube over him.

“Now, stretch yourself.”

Ethan moved and knelt between Dean’s spread legs. His gaze stayed on Dean’s face as

the man stretched himself. God it was a beautiful sight. He could get used to this. Dean in his

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bed night after night, an ass made for fucking and spanking. Ethan groaned as the image of

fucking Dean’s bright-red ass filled his mind.

“Please, Ethan, please fuck me!” Dean begged.

Ethan pulled Dean’s hand away, directing it back to the headboard. He pulled at Dean’s

hips until his cock was at the entrance. Ethan slowly pushed his cock into Dean’s ass,

relishing the tight fit. He set a slow, tortuous pace, needing to take his time, to love Dean

properly, to ensure they were both okay. The nightmare had rocked him to his core and

ripped at his heart. How many friends had his man lost? Did he lose a lover over there?

Ethan balked and cleared his head. It didn’t matter anymore. Dean was his. He had no plans

to let him go. The idea had him stopping. He was falling for Dean, hard.

“Please, Ethan, harder. Make it go away.” A single leg wrapped around Ethan’s waist,

the other pressed against him.

Ethan surged forward, reached up and pulled on one of the rings in Dean’s nipples.

Dean arched up into him. Ethan watched the final lines of pain disappear. Reaching down,

he grasped Dean’s cock and stroked, continuing his onslaught.

“Ah! Going to come!” Dean shouted.

“Now. Come now,” Ethan commanded, thrusting hard into Dean’s ass, his balls

drawing up. He shuddered and came hard, semen filling the condom.

Dean’s leg fell to the bed. Carefully, Ethan withdrew, leant down, captured Dean’s

mouth and kissed him hard. Keeping his weight off Dean, he rolled over and off the bed,

heading for the bathroom. After tossing the condom in the trashcan, he first cleaned himself

then returned to the bed and cleaned Dean. Tossing the used washcloth in the bathroom,

Ethan crawled back into bed, pulling Dean into his arms.

“God, I could stay here all day,” Ethan said, kissing the top of Dean’s head.

“I have no objections to that. I don’t any place to be today.”

Ethan glanced at the clock. “I do. I have to be at the faire in a couple of hours.”

“I should go home then.”

Ethan heard the disappointment and regret in Dean’s voice. Emotions he wasn’t sure

the other man was aware were there. He rolled them over so that Dean lay on his back, and

he pushed himself up on his arms. “Spend the day with me.”

“I don’t know. I should probably go home and stay off my feet today.”

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“Off your feet, yes. But I want you to stay with me.”

“So this isn’t a one-night-stand or a friends–with-benefits type of thing?” Dean asked

looking towards the far wall.

With two fingers on his jaw, Ethan forced Dean to look at him. “First, I don’t bring one-

night-stands to my home, no matter how hot they are.” Ethan traced the scars marking

Dean’s shoulder. “And second, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house. I have garb you

can wear, and you can sit in our camp.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat. He’d been both hoping for and dreading this moment. In

the dim lights and at the height of their sexual highs, disabilities and disfigurements didn’t

matter. But, in the cold reality of daylight, faced with a non-understanding world, it was a

much different story. There were days when getting out of bed was a chore in and of itself.

He couldn’t stand the looks of pity, the stares or the never-ending questions from strangers

any more than he could stand to look at himself and the litany of scars crossing over his

mangled flesh.

“I don’t know. I really need to rest.” It sounded like an excuse. It was partially, he

admitted to himself, but yesterday had been a good day. He’d walked most of the day and

now his leg throbbed.

“How bad is it?” Ethan demanded.

“What do you mean? How bad is what?” Dean had a sinking feeling he knew exactly

what Ethan was asking. Fury burned in Ethan’s dark brown eyes.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Ethan threw the remainders of their covers off and got off

him. He reached into the nightstand and withdrew a bottle Dean hadn’t seen last night. “Did

you take a pain pill last night? Do you have more with you?”

“Yes to both questions.”

“And the pain?”

Dean snapped. “Bad enough to make walking difficult. Okay?” Anger and resentment

rolled off from him.

“Give yourself a break, love, your body needs time to heal. Just because it only took

seconds to break, doesn’t mean its going to get better in a matter of months.” Ethan rubbed

his hands together before kneading Dean’s damaged leg.

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“It’s been over a year!” Dean growled.

“I’m aware of that. You will sit at our tent, and dressed in garb, few people will bother

you. A cane isn’t out of place there,” Ethan said firmly. His voice was quiet but brooked no

refusal.

Dean’s resolve melted as Ethan continued to work the muscles. Would it be so bad to

spend the day with Ethan? Maybe even another night. Last night had been the best night of

his life. Ethan was definitely the best lover he’d ever had. He could bring a book to read and

possibly a blanket to stretch out on. The pain would get worse, but already it seemed to be at

a more manageable level.

“So if you’re a knight, Lord Blackmoore, what would I be?”

“Aside from, at my beck and call?” Ethan asked, smiling mischievously.

Dean shifted. He wasn’t sure where Ethan was headed, but he didn’t want to be put on

display like some sort of sideshow freak.

“There is no need to worry sweetheart, there are very little public displays of affection.

We will conduct ourselves appropriately, leaving kisses and other things for private. Besides,

I don’t share what’s mine.” Ethan‘s hand grazed Dean’s balls. “You could go as a lord since

that’s the garb I have. As a lord, it would be expected of me to befriend, date and marry

within my peers.”

“It would be expected that you would date and marry a woman.”

“Yes, but Brookshire is a progressive kingdom and most people there already know I’m

gay.”

“You keep that up, and we’ll never get out of bed,” Dean ground out, his cock hard

from Ethan’s ministrations. Mine. Ethan had called him mine. His. Possessive. Possession?

Did Ethan want to control him? Own him? “Ah, Ethan…”

He swallowed his words as Ethan’s mouth closed over his cock. Dean moaned. Ethan

brought him to the edge, released his hold on his cock and sucked each one of his balls before

returning to his cock.

“Coming!” Dean yelled trying to pull out. Ethan grabbed hold of his hips and sucked

hard, swallowing every drop. Ethan moved up so they were eye to eye and captured Dean’s

mouth, his tongue thrusting, exploring, and claiming. Dean tasted himself on Ethan. Brad

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had hated kissing after a blow job, but Dean hadn’t minded it, and with Ethan, it was wholly

erotic.

Dean was aware of Ethan moving, and he scooted down on the bed to get at Ethan’s

cock. It was gorgeous, like the rest of him, and he wanted it. Dean worked his mouth over

Ethan’s larger and thicker cock. He sucked and laved it until Ethan’s hands grasped the side

of his head holding him firm. Ethan’s body tensed. Dean reached up and cupped Ethan’s

balls, gently playing with them.

“Ah!” Ethan yelled his body tensing.

Dean swallowed every drop of Ethan’s seed before cleaning his lover’s cock thoroughly.

He waited until Ethan’s hands relaxed before slowly moving back up the bed, his leg

protesting the strain. Ethan kissed him again before leaving the bed. He returned a short time

later with a pile of clothes, a glass of water and Dean’s duffle bag. Dean grabbed the bag and

reached for the orange pill bottle, watching Ethan dress. After taking one of the pills Dean

tossed the bottle back into the bag, while Ethan dug several items from the dresser drawer.

“You’ll need these.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow, “Really? Tube socks, jock strap, and insoles?”

“The socks and insoles protect your feet in the boots. “

“And the jock strap?”

“Frames your gorgeous ass and offers some protection and insurance.”

“Insurance?”

“Garb doesn’t always hide erections, which is a state I hope to get you to before the end

of the day,” Ethan answered, slipping a cup into one before putting it on. “Now get dressed.

We still need to eat.”

“Do I get another snack before breakfast?” Dean asked playfully, while sorting through

the layers of clothing.

* * * *

Ethan pulled the truck to a stop outside the main gate leading into the faire. Situated in

a wooded section of the county fairgrounds, the hilly landscape provided the perfect

atmosphere to lose several hundred years of technology. He was in luck. One of the owners

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was outside the gate along with the two women who manned the ticket booth. He wanted to

get Dean inside while vehicles were still allowed on the grounds. He knew his lover was in

pain, even though he tried to mask it.

“Wait here, love.” Ethan squeezed Dean’s leg and jumped out of the truck.

“My Lord Blackmoore, what brings you to our gates this faire morn?” The older woman

asked as he rounded the front of the truck. “And in a magical horseless wagon, too.”

“Lady Margaret.” Ethan bowed, grasping the woman’s hand. “I have come to beg a

boon from you sweet ladies.”

“Begging surely will not be necessary, my lord,” the youngest of the trio said

suggestively. Lady Tabitha. The other one was Lady Evangeline, Lady Tabitha’s widowed

aunt, who’d raised her, both in character and in real life.

Ethan smiled. They knew he was gay, had no problem with it, but teasing was almost a

requirement at the faire, at least among the participants. “It would be a pleasure to beg, but

alas, I need safe passage into Brookshire for my—” He paused. His what? Lover? Boyfriend?

Partner? Mine. His. Yes, Dean was his, but they hadn’t actually talked about it. Dean had

started to ask, but Ethan had distracted him. His body tightened at the memory of his lips

around Dean’s cock.

“Boyfriend?” the women suggested, glancing over at Dean who sat in the truck.

Ethan nodded. “His leg is bothering him today, and I’d prefer he doesn’t do a lot of

unnecessary walking.”

“We can let him now then. Does he have a ticket?” Margaret asked.

“I do,” Ethan answered. He’d kept a handful, knowing he could give them away at

Smugglers’ Cove to either employees or patrons. He’d pay Dean’s entrance fee himself if it

kept the man with him where he could keep an eye on him.

“Very well then, my lord.” Margaret smiled. “Let us meet this man of yours.”

Ethan blew out a breath and led the way to the truck, motioning for Dean to put the

window down. He wondered how Dean would deal with the bluntness of the people at the

faire. If being gay was a secret he’d kept, it would be out before the end of the day. He

allowed himself a small smile at the discomfort his lover was sure to encounter.

“What’s up?” Dean asked when they were closer.

“Good day, my lord,” the ladies chorused.

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“Carla’s brother,” Lady Tabitha said, with obvious approval.

“Very nice choice, Lord Blackmoore,” Margaret said, smiling. “May I have your hand,

my lord?”

Dean quirked an eyebrow and looked over at him. Ethan smiled and nodded, as Dean

stuck his arm out the window. Margaret took a stamp from her basket and stamped the back

of Dean’s hand then fastened a paper wristband around his wrist, writing Knights of Steel on

it.

“Now, if you get lost we know who you belong to.” Margaret smiled and released his

hand. “Will he be accompanying you next weekend, my lord?”

“One can only hope, my lady,” Ethan answered, kissing Margaret’s hand.

“Well then, find me Friday eve, and we’ll see that he’s squared away.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Ethan bowed, wished the women good day and climbed back

into the truck.

“What was that all about? And what was that bit about belonging?” Dean asked as the

truck jostled along the dirt road.

“Margaret, the woman who stamped your hand, is one of the owners of the faire, she

very rarely is out of character. She knows I’m gay, and I’m not going to lie about it or what

you’re doing with me.”

“And the belonging part?”

“Those bands are usually given to the kids of participants, entertainers, and vendors so

that they can be watched and can go where the adults go. Since there are no more extra

passes, she gave you that one, marked with KOS so that you have the same privileges we do.

It will make lunch easier, since food is only provided for the entertainers and volunteers.”

“Okay,” Dean said looking unconvinced. “Where are we going now?”

“The back way into the faire, so I can drop you and my armour and a few tools I need at

the fight list.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “The bruise I saw on your leg last night, did you get it from

fighting?”

“Yes.”

The armour was part of an extra set he’d thrown in the truck that morning along with a

handful of tools needed to hammer out the dents from yesterday. He had no intention of

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letting Dean walk any farther than necessary today. He wanted him nearby where he could

keep an eye on him. Ethan flexed his hands and planned his next move.

“About what you said earlier, that you don’t share what’s yours. What did you mean,

exactly?”

Ethan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t want a one-night-stand with

you, Dean. I want you. I want to see if forever is a possibility, but I don’t want an equal

relationship. I like being in charge, being in control. Dominant. I’ve tried relationships that

were vanilla, as a switch and as a submissive, and none work for me. I’m a dominant. Mine,

means just that. If you can accept what I offer, you belong with me, to me. That’s not to say

that you have no rights or that you have to blindly accept whatever I tell you. It means that I

have the final say in all things. I’m not going to dictate which job to take or to go back to

school or not, but I would expect you to discuss your options and choices with me and tell

me when you’ve made a decision.”

“You’re talking BDSM. Power exchange. Whips and chains.”

“Yes,” Ethan replied, laying a hand on Dean’s leg. “Don’t panic. The domination and

submission part is more important than the bondage and discipline aspect. While I may want

to expand your limits, I will never go further than you can handle. Does that make sense?”

“I think so.” Dean nodded. “So, I could say no to anything I absolutely couldn’t handle,

but the rest of the decisions are left up to you?”

“Yes, along with the responsibilities. There will be rules to follow, but we’ll talk about

them, so we both understand what is expected from each of us. I know I’m asking a lot from

you. Take the day to make your decision, follow my rules and see if you can handle it.”

Ethan pulled to a stop in front of the fight list. He’d never played with someone who didn’t

know the rules or the lifestyle. He’d certainly never thought about claiming one. Time was

necessary for both of them. He’d wanted Dean since Carla had showed him photos of the

man and shared the letters he’d sent. “You promise to obey me, and I promise to always take

care of you and protect you.”

“What kind of rules?”

“For starters, no swearing, and if I put you someplace, I expect you to stay there. You

will use your cane at all times, and taking care of yourself will be a priority. Those aren’t

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horrible are they? And I would need your schedule for the week, so I always know where

you are.”

Dean shook his head. “No, they’re not bad.”

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Chapter Five

Dean sat on the bleachers, watching the end of the fight, squirming slightly in his seat.

Carla sat on one side, the girlfriend of one of the other knights, a short, dark-haired, full-

figured woman named Vivian, sat in front of them. He’d blushed when Ethan had bowed to

him, even though the fight was standing room only and hardly any one knew whom Ethan

was truly bowing at. The members of the Knights of Steel were genuinely interested in

meeting him and treated him like family almost instantly. He shifted again, praying his

erection stayed hidden. Ethan had been teasing him all morning, running his fingers over his

leg, neck or ear and whispering his plans for the night when no one else was around. Ethan

had kept him on edge all day without allowing him to ease the rising tension in his cock.

Dean winced as Ethan did a midair somersault and landed on top of the knight lying on

the ground who’d been felled by a shield to the head, while one of the ladies distracted the

fight marshal.

“I brought clothes for you,” Carla said, pulling him from his thoughts as a fight broke

out in the list. “He’s a showman, that’s for sure.”

Dean nodded. Ethan was definitely a showman. He played the part of the hot-headed

knight well. “You did what?”

“Clothes, you know, for a couple of weeks.”

“Why would you do that?” Dean scowled. It wasn’t like they had actually talked about

him staying at Ethan’s home. Dean still wanted more time to think about belonging to Ethan.

His heart said yes, but his head wasn’t convinced. The conversation with Ethan had opened a

whole new plethora of things to think about, as well as touched on well-hidden desires. He

might like to try it for a night or a few days, but he wasn’t sure he could handle it all of the

time. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Sounded like a good idea. Don’t worry, your clothes match, plus there are

underwear—which by the way, you really need to get some new ones—and all of your meds.

I wasn’t sure what you had with you. I brought your laptop, too. This way if Ethan wants

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you to stay, which considering I’ve never seen or heard of him asking a guy over for a night,

you’re all set.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No one’s the wiser, and since I’d end up looking like a lovesick fool, I’d have to beat

Ethan up for being a stupid dolt.”

“Don’t play matchmaker. Ethan should have someone with less baggage.”

“Everyone has baggage. If he loves you, he’ll handle it. If he can’t then I’m with Carla.

He needs to be beaten up for being stupid,” Vivian offered.

Dean nodded, rolled his eyes and squirmed some more. He needed the fight to be over

soon so he could catch Ethan’s attention. Ethan had refused to let him walk anywhere or do

any lifting. Just before the fight, Ethan had found him a seat on the bleachers at the far end

away from everyone but where Ethan could see him then had threatened punishment if

Dean moved from the spot. What he didn’t understand was why he felt compelled to follow

Ethan’s orders, or why he felt relief even under the threat of punishment, whatever that

might entail. It confused him. Even when they had slept last night, Ethan’s arms were

wrapped around him. He’d never had anyone do that. He’d always been the one to do the

comforting and protecting. He liked the change.

“Did you hear me?” Carla asked, hitting his shoulder.

Dean shook his head. The last fight was wrapping up. Ethan was on his knees, chasing

after another knight. Five of the others lay sprawled out on the field, while the eighth one

was inching his way towards Ethan. A squire hit one of the knights with a shield, toppling

him. A sword connected to Ethan’s helmeted head, and he fell to the ground, leaving one

knight in the familiar purple and grey of the Knights of Steel the victor. Dean and the two

women remained seated while the crowd was invited to get their pictures with the knights,

try on the armour, and ask questions.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Dean whispered to Carla when after ten minutes the crowd

showed no sign of dying and his bladder refused to wait too much longer. Bracing himself on

his cane, he slowly made his way to the port-a-potty’s renamed port-a-privy.

Dean finished, used the hand sanitizer, and shut the door behind him, leaning against

the plastic door momentarily. He wasn’t looking forward to walking back to the list.

“I don’t remember saying you could move.”

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Dean’s heart jumped. “Ethan.”

“Well?” Ethan asked, brushing a hand across Dean’s neck.

Dean felt himself blush, and his cock hardened at the contact. “I’ve had to go since the

third match, of which there were ten today. Then all of the kids wanted to meet you, and you

do really well with them, but I held out as long as I could.”

“Next time, plan better,” Ethan replied, lightly slapping Dean’s cheek before leading the

way back to the arena.

“Ethan, are…are you going to punish me?” Dean asked. His stomach clenched in

anticipation and dread. He wasn’t sure which one was the stronger emotion at that moment.

“Did you stay where I put you?”

Dean shook his head. “No.”

“So, yes, you will get punished. However, I’m might be lenient because of the

circumstances. If in the future, you find humiliation a turn on, we can explore it, however, it

is not my intention to see you humiliated.”

“Are there people who enjoy being humiliated?”

“Yes, there are. And yes, I know a few of them,” Ethan answered, stopping at a circle of

chairs under a canvas tent. “Stay put for now.”

Dean nodded and took the seat Ethan indicated. The chair was painted with the same

maroon and white dragon design that was on Ethan’s tunic and shield.

* * * *

“Have you made a decision?” Ethan asked as they pulled into the parking lot of

Smugglers’ Cove Brewpub. The draped rope and ship’s wheel gave the impression of an

elegant, upscale bar and restaurant, while paying homage to the less than savoury past of the

Great Lakes.

“Anyone is compatible for a few hours after a long day, and if that’s all you were after,

that’d be fine. But—” Dean began. He’d thought about it all day. Ethan had set the rules for

the day, but they’d been surprisingly easy to follow, had freed him from worry for the day

and made sure he didn’t over tax his leg. Sex with Ethan was the best in the world but more

than sex wasn’t possible. He wasn’t the same man he’d been before. He wasn’t the type of

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man anyone should be saddled with, especially not someone he could possibly fall in love

with.

“Do you think you’re only worth a piece of ass? Is that how you see yourself? A quick

fuck in the dark? No commitment?” Ethan asked, his voice lowering, the words becoming

short and clipped. “Unlovable?”

“It’s not that. It’s—”

“What are you afraid of? Was it so hard to follow my rules? Were you unhappy?

Mistreated?”

Dean shook his head. “No. It’s not you. It’s me.”

“That’s original. What do you mean? And don’t lie to me.”

Dean searched Ethan’s face for some clue to how the man felt. There had been

something there, but he’d masked his expression quickly. Dean wanted to try it, but it wasn’t

fair to either of them. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he was worth more than a quick fuck, he

simply didn’t believe that anyone would want a physically and mentally damaged man. His

body would never be whole, and PTSD, the post-traumatic stress disorder, would be with

him forever.

“I want to try. I just don’t know if it’s something I can live with. More than that, I’m not

sure I’m someone you can live with. I have limitations, and the nightmare I had isn’t the only

PTSD issue I have to deal with. You’re better off with someone whole.” Dean shrugged,

nonchalantly, his heart protesting his decision.

“I want this week, through the last day of faire. If at the end you aren’t convinced that I

know what I’m talking about and this is what you want, I’ll let you go,” Ethan demanded.

“All right.” It would be the best and worse week of his life. Who would need the most

convincing at the end of the week though?

“You will wear this collar at all times. You will not take it off.” Ethan held out a length

of chain and a lock in the palm of his hand.

Dean nodded, anticipation coursing through his veins. He unbuckled the seat belt and

turned to face Ethan. His breath catching as the necklace was fastened. Dean ran his fingers

over it. It was lightweight and looked normal, but the meaning was huge. He was, at least

theoretically, safe. Even if Ethan didn’t care for him or love him, he was bound to take care of

him until the chain was removed.

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“Let’s go,” Ethan said, getting out of the truck. “There’s still the matter of your

punishment for earlier.”

Dean opened and closed his mouth and followed him. Ethan took his hand, and they

walked into restaurant. They were stopped by most of the staff, and each time Ethan

introduced Dean as his boyfriend. It had caught him off guard the first time. They were in

the same room as before, and Ethan directed him to the table they’d sat at the night before.

Some of the knights and their significant others were there, others wandered in later. In a

casual tone, Ethan asked him what he wanted and nodded his approval. The same as the

night before, they left shortly after the meal was completed, Ethan saying he’d catch up with

his friends later.

* * * *

“You have a question,” Ethan said after they’d put the last of the camping gear, armour,

tools and clothing away.

Dean shrugged. “I guess I was expecting something different.”

“You mean like following behind me, being addressed as slave, and having to ask

before doing everything?”

“Well, yeah. I was shocked when you introduced me as your boyfriend.”

“First, you are my boyfriend, and second, if we were in a club setting or around other

couples in the same scene then those behaviours or similar ones would be expected. On a

regular basis that is not what I expect. And I would never take you some place like that

without letting you know.”

“Do I call you Master?”

Ethan nodded. “Always in the bedroom. I would prefer all the time, but I’m willing to

let you work up to that point. For now when we’re in public either Sir or Ethan is fine,

whichever is more appropriate.”

“And I know this how?” Dean asked.

“You’ll figure it out. Now, go up to the bedroom and strip. I want you naked by the

time I get up there,” Ethan said firmly. Dean gave him a quizzical look, nodded and made his

way upstairs.

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Ethan locked the doors, set the alarm and checked the house before heading into his

office. He checked his email, scanning for anything urgent, before shutting down the

computer and heading upstairs. Dean’s belief that he wasn’t worthy of a relationship

troubled Ethan. He needed to find a way to make Dean believe in his own self-worth and get

him to stay. This was what Dean needed. Ethan knew it as sure as he knew his own name.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed. His shirt lay next to him, and he was trying to pull off

his boots. “Are you really going to punish me?”

“You know I am.” Ethan knelt down and finished removing the boots.

“I didn’t mean to disobey.” Dean stood and undressed.

“Next time, you will plan better,” Ethan replied firmly. “I’m going to spank you, with

my hand this time. I want you to lie across my lap on your stomach.”

He waited while Dean repositioned himself so that his cock was trapped against

Ethan’s thighs, with the weight of his body resting on the bed. Striking with full force, he

smacked Dean five times, alternating ass cheeks. The man’s cock was hard and with the last

two his ass had raised to meet each blow.

“Roll over,” Ethan commanded, helping Dean maintain his balance as he rolled onto his

back and sat up. Ethan folded him into his arms. “It’s not a matter of whether or not you can

handle getting to the bathroom yourself or defend yourself. I’m well aware of your ability to

do both. I need you to trust me when I tell you to do something.”

Dean nodded. Ethan slanted his mouth over Dean’s, his tongue thrusting into the other

man.

“Please,” Dean begged, when Ethan finally released his mouth.

“Centre of the bed. On your back.” Ethan stripped, grabbed a condom, the bottle of lube

from the drawer and crawled in between Dean’s legs. He rolled on the condom and used the

lube first on his sheathed cock then he inserted first one finger than another and another until

he’d push four fingers into Dean’s ass, stretching it. Removing his fingers, he pulled Dean’s

legs up onto his shoulders and placed the head of his cock at Dean’s tight hole. Ethan slowly

pushed forward, until he was buried. He built a punishing rhythm, hitting Dean’s prostate

with each thrust.

“Going to come!” Dean yelled, clenching Ethan’s forearms.

“Wait.”

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Dean’s fingers dug into Ethan’s arms. Ethan powered forward, Dean’s ass clenching,

dragging his climax from him. “Now!” Ethan commanded. Dean’s cock erupted, covering

them both. Ethan let Dean’s legs down and collapsed beside him.

“Wow! I’ve never come like that.”

“Without touching yourself?” Ethan probed, forcing himself to move.

“Yes.”

“Good. Wait here.” Ethan retrieved a damp washcloth from the bathroom and cleaned

them both up, before pulling the covers down and holding Dean tight in his arms. He hoped

Dean’s nightmares left him for the night.

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Chapter Six

Monday afternoon, Dean sat in the nearly full lobby of the Veterans’ Administration

Medical Centre and stretched out his leg. He leaned his head against the wall, fingering the

heavy chain through his T-shirt, and longed to close his eyes. Ethan had rearranged his

schedule so he could take him to and from his appointments. Mondays were his long days at

the medical centre with physical therapy, counselling, doctors’ appointments, and today he’d

also had blood drawn.

Dean blew out a breath and remembered the argument earlier. He’d wanted to ride his

motorcycle, but Ethan had refused. Dean had argued, the twenty minute drive was easy and

he was used to it. Ethan had said no, and when Dean had continued to argue, Ethan had

reminded him that this was where he had final say. He’d only get the one warning.

Dean smiled at the memory. He’d argued anyway. He wasn’t an invalid, and he could

drive himself to and from his appointments. The argument had earned him ten swats with

Ethan’s hand on his bare ass. The punishment that should’ve been humiliating and painful

had gotten his cock hard with desire. Ethan had teased him for two more hours before they‘d

made love.

The glass doors hissed and slid open. Dean lifted his gaze automatically. The shoulder-

length, light-brown hair grabbed at his attention, and he allowed his gaze to travel down

Ethan’s body, admiring it. Bracing his weight on his cane, Dean stood and walked towards

his lover.

“You look exhausted. Are you ready to go?” Ethan raised a hand and dropped it.

“Yes, Ethan,” Dean said formally letting Ethan lead the short distance to the truck. He

wasn’t ashamed of being gay, but he still wasn’t sure what a campus full of military and vets

would do if they found out. More importantly, he needed the VA not only for the physical

therapy and medical care, but in order to deal with the PTSD issues he had. Ethan had

understood, even if knew he didn’t agree.

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Initially, Dean hadn’t thought he would be comfortable calling Ethan Master, not

during sex, and certainly not in the course of the day. In the bedroom, it was easier to accept

Ethan’s dominance than in the rest of his life. Dean had always preferred being a bottom,

even though he knew it went against his training, and throughout his time in the Marines,

he’d never had the submissive desires Ethan seemed to bring out in him. He scrubbed a hand

over his head. It was something he wanted to talk to someone over, but he wasn’t sure who

he could talk to about it.

“How did it go?” Ethan asked, squeezing his thigh.

Dean opened his legs wider as they left the medical centre. “Hard. Margaret, my

physical therapist, says I’m getting stronger and maybe in the fall we can drop down to twice

a week. She did recommend that I take a hot bath or soak in a hot tub a couple of times a

week. It relaxes the muscles or something. “

“We can soak in the hot tub after dinner tonight then,” Ethan said, sliding his hand

under the waistband of Dean’s sweatpants and underwear, capturing his cock. “How about

dinner at Smugglers’ Cove? It’s my night to work.”

Dean moaned and grabbed the seat, trying to concentrate on the question while Ethan’s

devious fingers toyed with him. “If that is what you want, Ethan.”

“Are you up for it?” Ethan asked, squeezing Dean’s cock.

“N-not dressed like this,” Dean gasped.

The manipulation stopped, and Dean resisted the urge to move against Ethan’s skilled

hands. Pre-cum oozed from the tip of his cock. He was close to coming, but wasn’t allowed

to. It was one of the limits Ethan liked to push. He was finding he had a lot of limits, but he

loved the way Ethan pushed them. Ethan liked to see how long Dean could hold out, but he

also pushed Dean’s comfort level. Ethan wanted him accessible with his legs and pants open.

He wanted to give Ethan everything the man desired.

“Good boy,” Ethan said, grabbing Dean’s balls gently. “Just a bit longer.”

Dean smiled and squirmed in his seat, trying to stay still. Several long minutes later,

Ethan pulled the truck into the driveway and turned off the engine. Ethan removed his hand,

but Dean still didn’t move. During the times when he allowed himself to fully ‘belong’ to

Ethan, to follow his orders, aside from giving him a near instant hard-on, he’d found it

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surprisingly freeing. But it wasn’t something that he could do all of the time. Tonight though,

he wanted, needed to belong to Ethan.

“Go on upstairs and take a shower, love,” Ethan said firmly.

Dean nodded. He’d made it as far as the kitchen when Ethan caught up with him.

Ethan’s hands caught his waist, one skimmed beneath his clothes, squeezing his ass before

his hand slid down and fingered his hole. The other hand snaked around front, holding him

tight. Dean relaxed into Ethan’s embrace, his lover’s erection pressed into him.

“Please, Ethan,” Dean begged.

Ethan stilled. “What do you want?”

“You. Please Master,” Dean replied, pushing his ass back, wanting, needing Ethan’s

possession, his cock filling him. “Fuck me. Hard. Now.”

“Pushy slave, aren’t you?” Ethan manoeuvred them to the table, trapping Dean

between the table and Ethan’s slightly larger body. “Up.”

Dean pulled himself onto the table and, with Ethan’s help, removed his clothes,

allowing Ethan full access to him. He braced his legs with his hands and watched through his

spread thighs as Ethan undid his pants and push them down his thighs, before retrieving a

bottle of lube and a box of condoms from a bag on the counter he hadn’t seen before. Ethan’s

dark eyes swirled with desire. There would be nothing slow or gentle about this. Dean raised

his ass in anticipation.

Ethan sheathed his cock, slicked his cock and used the excess on Dean’s ass, stretching

him. Dean held his quivering legs while his gaze swept Ethan’s mostly clothed body.

“Who do you belong to?” Ethan asked, the head of his cock pressed to Dean’s entrance.

“You, Master, only you.” Dean held his breath as Ethan eased his cock fully into him.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, love. Hands behind your head.”

Dean obeyed. Ethan gripped his hips, pulled out and surged forward. Dean gasped as

Ethan powered into him. Ethan released his grip and grasped his cock and squeezed. Dean’s

balls drew up. He was close to the edge.

“Please, Master, I’m going to come!” Dean said through clenched teeth.

Ethan nodded and thrust deep inside him. Dean came hard in long strands that landed

on his chest and abdomen as he called for his master. Ethan continued to pummel his ass.

Dean watched, mesmerised while Ethan’s body stiffened and he came, filling the condom.

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Ethan released Dean’s legs and placed them back onto the table. As he watched his lover

retrieve a warm washcloth, Dean knew that he would never get enough of Ethan and his

cock, but he wanted skin on skin. There was nothing more intimate and final.

“Beautiful,” Ethan said washing Dean’s up. “Let’s go take a shower love. Tonight, after

we get back from the bar, we’ll get you into the hot tub.”

“I may be too tired for the hot tub tonight, Master,“ Dean said and eased himself off

from the table while Ethan picked up their clothes and handed him his cane.

“We’ll see, love, we’ll see.”

* * * *

Ethan looked around the restaurant bar and smiled. Despite being the middle of the

week, the restaurant was three-quarters of the way full. He let his eyes adjust to the dim light

and felt Dean stiffen beside him. Ethan placed a hand on his back, reminding him of whom

he belonged to and felt his lover relax immediately.

“Good evening, Mr. Moreland. Your table is waiting,” Tanner said formally.

“Really, Tanner, you’re invaluable to us, but you make me sound so harsh and

demanding,” Ethan said smiling. “Any problems tonight? This is my boyfriend, Dean

Hudson.” Ethan watched Dean out of the corner of his eye. Tension rolled off him. It was too

soon to tell if the tension was environmental or emotional. Ethan suspected the former over

the latter.

“No sir. There is a new waiter tonight, though. He’s in your section.”

Ethan smiled and nodded then followed Tanner to the table reserved for him, Caleb,

and Marc towards the back of the restaurant where they could see almost everything going

on.

“Ethan, do you own the tavern?” Dean asked quietly, sitting down at the table and

raising an eyebrow at the seat Ethan had chosen for him. There was a wall to his back, but

the entrance was partially hidden from sight, along with part of the large dining room and

the back room where they had eaten after the faire. Beside him, Dean clenched and

unclenched his fists. Ethan placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and rubbed his neck with his

fingers.

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“This where I want you to sit. You are with me, you belong to me, and therefore are

under my protection, love,” Ethan said, taking his own seat. “The answer to your question is

yes, Caleb, Marc and I own the tavern as well as the brewery. We started with the brewery

out of our kitchen about seven years ago, and added the bar-restaurant onto the brewery five

years ago. I thought Carla would have told you.”

Dean shook his head, panic lighting his eyes. “She…she told me…mentioned the

brewery in…in passing…a couple of times,” Dean answered, stumbling over the words.

Ethan took one of Dean’s hands and brought it to his mouth, kissing it softly. “Relax,

love. You have outs, you know that.”

Dean nodded, searched the room and settled back into his seat.

“Does it bother you that I’m one of the owners of Smugglers’ Cove?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Fair enough, now figure out what you want to eat,” Ethan replied, scanning one of the

menus Tanner had left with them.

“You aren’t going to chose for me?”

Ethan quirked an eyebrow and wondered what had made Dean ask that kind of

question. “No. Why would you think that?”

“It was something I saw or read somewhere.”

Ethan shook his head. “Although, I may suggest something else once in a while, that’s

not the type of submission I require. That level of protocol is very restrictive for the slave.

However, if you would like to try it, I will be happy indulge your request.”

“No, Sir, I’m still trying to get used to your rules.”

Ethan nodded.

A young man dressed in black pants with a white silk poet-style shirt and wearing a tri-

corner hat walked up to them and blocked the view of the restaurant. “Good evening, my

name is Lorne, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you with something?”

Ethan glanced up at the waiter, who didn’t look a day over sixteen, and nodded. Beside

him, Dean tensed.

“What’s on tap?” Ethan asked casually, menu in hand, watching the young man’s

movements.

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While Lorne read from the list of house beers, sheepishly explaining it was his first day

on the job, Ethan squeezed Dean’s leg. He worked his fingers under Dean’s shirt, relishing

the skin to skin contact and feeling Dean’s body relax immediately.

What would it be like to have Dean in his bed every morning? To have him wear his

collar? Not a simple chain, but his collar.

Ethan gave himself a mental shake. Dean was still trying to work out all aspects of the

BDSM lifestyle and wasn’t ready to make a decision one way or the other—not one he was

ready to admit. Ethan knew without a doubt that a vanilla relationship would never make

him happy nor would it make his partner happy. He knew acknowledging and accepting his

needs allowed for a greater chance at love and happiness for both men. He didn’t fool

himself. He knew several Masters with slaves whose relationships were not about love or

companionship but the submission, but he didn’t want that. He’d promised himself when he

gave his collar and claimed his own slave, it would be for all time.

“I’ll try the Summer Solstice,” Ethan said, naming off the ale they were trying out,

giving restaurant goers a chance at the newest and limited edition runs of the beers they

were producing.

“Excellent choice, sir. It’s only available here at the moment,” Lorne answered. Smiling

and arching a brow he turned towards Dean.

“Love, what do you want?” Ethan ground out, tamping down the jealous streak roaring

its head. He moved his hand to the back of Dean’s neck and rubbed softly. “We’re on one

cheque.”

“Coke, please,” Dean replied, leaning back into Ethan’s hand.

“You can have a beer if you want,” Ethan reminded him. While he was pleased with

Dean’s decision, he wanted to make sure his lover understood he wasn’t going to pull any

strings. He didn’t want that kind of slave.

Dean shook his head. “Not tonight.”

Ethan nodded and waited for the waiter to ask for his ID.

“I’ll bring them right out for you. Are you ready to order now, or do you need more

time?” Lorne smiled, staring at Dean.

“More time,” Ethan said. Lorne nodded, turned and left. “Didn’t you want a beer or

something?”

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“No, my leg’s bothering me so I had to take a pain pill right before we left.”

Ethan nodded. In the last two days, he’d explored every inch of his lover and found

him to be an extremely responsive lover. He’d altered his plans for dominating Dean based

on the responses and the limits they were finding. His man was new to Ethan’s lifestyle and

jumping in was not an option. That Dean found it necessary to hide his sexuality and his

partner away from the military and the people at the Veterans’ Administration irritated him

while complicating Dean’s life and adding more stress than Ethan found acceptable.

Lorne brought their drinks and took their orders, Ethan going for the special and Dean

opting for a burger and fries. As he left, Ethan noticed a tall blond with a lithe swimmer’s

body heading towards them. A shorter, dark haired, broad-chested man follow him. Ethan

frowned. What were Marc and his flavour of the month doing here tonight? It wasn’t his

night. The three of them had agreed years ago that only one of them needed to be present

every night so they rotated nights, with all of them there on the holidays.

“What is it, Ethan?” Dean asked cautiously. Ethan heard the tension and panic

underlying the question.

“One of my business partners, Marc Brody.”

“Oh.”

“Ethan, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Where’s Caleb?” Marc asked, stopping

at their table.

“He’s at home. Drunk.”

“Why?”

“Raul. Apparently, Raul could no longer cope with the long, unpredictable, stress–

laden hours Caleb keeps,” Ethan said “Caleb called me earlier and asked me to take his place

tonight. He was working his way through a case two hours ago.”

“That asshole. Raul knew what kind of hours Caleb kept from the beginning. He met

him here after all,” Marc said, gripping the back of one of the two open chairs. “Is he alone?

Can we join you?”

“Yes, you can join us. No, he’s not alone anymore. I called Lucy. She’s on her way

over.” Ethan nodded. Marc was one of his best friends, but the man changed boyfriends

monthly. Normally, it didn’t bother him, but there was something about Marc’s current bed

warmer, Bill, that irritated him. Everything he’d been able to find out about the man felt

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slimy. Caleb had pegged him as a gold-digger. They’d approached Marc about their

concerns, but the man brushed them off saying he wasn’t serious about the guy anyway.

He’d found out from a friend that Bill had been at the private BDSM club he had frequented,

usually arriving as the sub of a member, and had participated in several scenes before it was

discovered that the man wasn’t a sub, but more of a switch who played at submission rather

than it being part of his make up and lifestyle. A fact that hadn’t set well with Ethan when

he’d learned that Bill had participated in several scenes with one of the subs Ethan had

enjoyed.

“Good, she’ll take care of him. They’ve been best friends since high school.”

Introductions were made, with Ethan reminding Marc that their waiter was new and

hopefully had no idea who they were. Ethan kept his hand on Dean for most of the evening,

partially for Dean’s comfort since both men blocked Dean’s view of the room and partially

because of the way Bill looked at Dean as though he were the next meal.

“Keep your toys away from what’s mine,” Ethan ground out when both Dean and Bill

excused themselves to go to the bathroom.

“Yours? You’re claiming him? Have you collared him then?” Marc asked, his gaze

wandering to the alcove housing the restrooms. Lorne returned to clear away their dishes

and ask if anyone was having dessert, promising to bring out their bills right away at their

refusal.

“He’s off limits,” Ethan hissed after Lorne was out of ear shot.

“I never thought you’d go that far.”

Ethan looked up when Dean approached the table, alone. Untold emotion swirled

across his lover’s face. Dean leaned heavily on his cane. It was time to leave. Ethan had

known from the beginning that Dean wasn’t up to going out, but aside from Ethan’s

obligations, it was a learning experience for Dean, a chance for Ethan to show Dean what he

would expect.

With any other sub, he would’ve taken him to the club, shown him off and let him see

first hand the difference in Masters, if he didn’t know already. He might have displayed him

or allowed the sub to feel the sting of the whip at the hands of another Master. But with

Dean, that would be ignoring Dean’s needs, which went against the rules he set for himself.

Even if Dean had been okay with going, Ethan found himself wanting to keep Dean entirely

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for himself. Hopefully, Dean would realise that Ethan would take care of him even though he

had duties he needed to oversee. He fought the urge to go to Dean and chase away his

demons. He settled for grabbing Dean’s hand as he took his seat. Ethan placed their hands on

Ethan’s thigh and squeezed. He released Dean’s hand when Lorne returned with their bills.

“Leave it,” Ethan ordered when Dean moved his hand, smiling and nodding when he

felt it return. Ethan withdrew a credit card from his wallet and slid it into the folder.

Bill walked up a short time later, withdrew his own credit card, eyeing Lorne as the

waiter retrieved their cheques.

“Since you’re here, I’m going to check things in the back, give my compliments to the

chef and go home,” Ethan said, signing his name to one copy and sticking the other copy and

his credit card into his wallet. “Enjoy your night.”

“We will.”

Ethan held his hand out for Dean and led the way slowly over to Tanner. He gave

Tanner his opinion of Lorne and reminded him to make sure everyone ordering alcohol was

carded, regardless of how old they looked. Then he headed into the kitchen to find out who

was on duty and responsible for the meal.

Ethan pressed a hand into Dean’s back as they walked back into the kitchen.

“Almost done,” Ethan whispered.

Dean nodded and looked like he was about to say something when he was interrupted.

“Evening, Mr. Moreland,” Heidi said, smiling, her eyes twinkling mischievously. She

lifted a tray of plates and moved towards the door. Lorne turned quickly, nearly dropping

his tray. “Move it, Lorne.”

“Mr. Moreland? Mr. Moreland? As in the owner?” Lorne asked, his voice heavy with

disbelief.

“You ran his card, didn’t you? And you didn’t figure that out?” Heidi laughed and

smacked the man upside his head.

Ethan nodded and moved towards the grill. “Mason,” he called out to a dark-haired

man.

“Yes, Mr. Moreland?” Mason asked, glancing over at them.

“Was the special your idea?”

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“Um, yes, Mr. Moreland, Mr. Hopkins said it was okay. He tasted it last week and again

tonight before we advertised it,” Mason said, stumbling over his words. He looked like he

wanted to disappear.

“I see. Are you responsible for the bread also?”

Mason nodded, swallowing audibly.

Ethan smiled. “Excellent job. You put something different in the goulash didn’t you?”

Mason nodded again. “Yes, sir, cinnamon.”

“Good job.” Ethan smiled and clapped Mason on the shoulder.

“Thank you Mr. Moreland.”

“Let’s go, love,” Ethan said, pulling Dean close to him and kissing him on his temple.

Exhaustion rolled off his lover. Ethan guided him out of the restaurant and into the

truck. Dean had been quiet since he’d returned from the bathroom. Ethan waited until the

doors were closed before turning to Dean.

“What happened in the bathroom?” Ethan asked, cupping Dean’s face and turning it

towards him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dean replied sullenly.

“Open for me,” Ethan commanded softly, his hand rubbing Dean’s cock through his

jeans. “I’m not asking. Tell me what happened.” Dean parted his legs, groaned and shook his

head. Ethan raised an eyebrow and withdrew his hand.

“You mean to disobey me?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean tense then turn to stare out the window.

Ethan started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. “What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“What did he try? I saw the way he was looking at you. I don’t share well.”

“That’s not what he said.”

Ethan clenched the steering wheel, forcing himself to breathe. He was going to kill Bill.

He was going rip someone a new asshole for whatever was upsetting Dean, but first, he

needed to know exactly what had happened. His phone rang interrupting him. He grabbed

it, glanced at the display and swore. “What do you want, Marc?”

“Your toy hit Bill.”

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Ethan looked over at Dean. “Then he shouldn’t have touched my boyfriend. I won’t

share him. Put a leash and a muzzle on your boyfriend. Right now, Dean is the least of his

problems. I had better not see him again. Ever.” Ethan flipped the phone closed and tossed it

into the cup holder. “Tell me what happened in that bathroom.”

“Nothing to tell.”

The ride home continued in silence. Ethan kept both hands on the wheel. The urge to

reach out and comfort Dean warred with the necessity of dealing with his sub’s unacceptable

behaviour. He was Dean’s Master first. He wasn’t even sure of Dean’s feelings beyond that.

He would deal with the behaviour first then with what had happened in the bathroom, and

still have time to get Dean into the hot tub. Ethan blew out a breath. It was going to be a long

night.

“Go to my office and wait for me,” Ethan ordered as he turned off the truck and opened

the door.

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Chapter Seven

Dean made his way through the house to Ethan’s office. He’d followed Ethan part of

the way into the house before continuing on to Ethan’s office while anger and

disappointment radiated from his lover. Dean inhaled slightly and waited. There was no

doubt that he’d screwed up.

He wasn’t sure how far Ethan was willing to go or how he was supposed to act. He’d

read stories, seen pictures of masters and slaves, but he was well aware of his limitations and

knew that fact changed things. Long moments later, footfalls alerted him to Ethan’s approach

before his lover cleared his throat and walked into the room. Ethan sat down on the leather

sofa then patted the cushion next to him and waited.

“Ethan?” Dean asked, lowering himself at the other end of the couch.

Ethan turned and raised an eyebrow.

“Master?” Dean stated. “I—”

“There can be no secrets from me,” Ethan said firmly. “You were told this.”

“Yes, Master,” Dean said quietly, gazing at the floor, unwilling to look Ethan in the eyes

and see the disappointment or disgust in his dark eyes. He was surprised at the ease and

rightness of calling Ethan Master.

“So, now you will tell me what happened. All of it. Not the version I got from Marc.”

Dean swallowed. He’d known this was coming. “He made a pass at me.”

“Bill.”

Dean nodded.

“And?” Ethan prompted.

“He said you shared all of your slaves. I would’ve let it go at that if he hadn’t followed

it up with trying to grab me,” Dean replied staring at the floor. He’d heard the truth of the

words even as the slime of evil rolled off him. Maybe not evil, but Bill was definitely creepy

and someone who should be avoided, although it was obvious Ethan’s business partner

didn’t have a problem with Bill.

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“How many times did he try?”

Dean inhaled audibly. “Four times. My ass when he first came into the restroom. I

ignored that one. Then he tried for my dick, and I grabbed his wrist and told him to lay off.

After I was done, he tried it again, so I grabbed his wrist, forced his arm behind his back,

took him to his knees, cut off his air and told him I wasn’t interested in him now or ever. I let

him go before he passed out—which I shouldn’t have. He came at me again, and I decked

him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“First, I didn’t know if it was true that you shared your slaves, and second, I didn’t

want to make a scene. I might be gay, but I’m a Marine, and I can take care of myself. Only I

get to decide who touches me,” Dean ground out. There was a difference between someone

watching your ass and someone trying to protect you. He didn’t need or want protection.

From anyone. Except Ethan, he reminded himself. Ethan sat back, looking at him. He didn’t

look entirely convinced, but Dean had learned that some things couldn’t be explained, and

that his gut instinct wasn’t usually too far off. Dean’s leg throbbed with pain. He would need

a pain pill to sleep tonight. He swore Margaret got a kick out of pushing him.

“Yes, I have shared my subs before,” Ethan said. “But, they knew ahead of time, were

fine with it, and it was in a controlled environment. I do not share my slaves with just anyone

and certainly not outside the club or at the home of another Master. And while I know you

can take care of yourself, these are things you need to learn to trust me to handle or at the

very least let me know when they happen so I can deal with it also. Hitting someone is very

rarely the answer. And there may be times I tell you to submit to someone else’s touch, and

you need to obey, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes you feel. There will be time for

talking before and after. And lastly, while I appreciate that you didn’t want to make a scene,

you still needed to tell me what happened.”

“Yes, Master. I guess I’m not cut out for this submissive thing.”

“You are a natural submissive, love. It’s just a new way of doing things, and it frightens

you.” Ethan opened his arms and reached for Dean.

“Are you?” Dean asked, sliding next to him. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle

being at the mercy of unknown hands without a way to defend himself.

Ethan wrapped his arms around his man. “Am I what?”

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“Going to share me? Let other men touch me?”

Ethan shook his head. “No, that requires a level of trust that’s not acquired in a week.

However, it would be a boundary we would cross when you’re further into your healing.”

Ethan kissed the top of Dean’s head and pulled back from him. “You do need to be punished.

Disobedience is not tolerated. Strip.”

“Yes, Master.” Dean stood and removed his clothes, leaning heavily on his cane, his

gaze tracking Ethan’s movements.

Ethan stood and retrieved a leather paddle from the toy chest next to his desk. He

returned and sat in the middle of the sofa. “Lie across my lap, and place the weight of your

body on the couch.”

Dean obeyed. Ethan waited before he rubbed Dean’s ass, squeezing each cheek, one at a

time. “I’m not going to gag you so you make all of the noise you want. And since this is your

first time, I won’t give you the full measure of your punishment. Yet.”

Dean nodded. Ethan brought the paddle down with a crack. Dean stiffened and

remained silent. Holy shit it hurt! The pain was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The

pain was offset by excitement, and when Ethan made contact again, Dean’s cock stirred. It

wasn’t until fifth time that Dean grunted. His ass was on fire, his cock hard, trapped between

their bodies. Ethan hadn’t tied him down, so he could get up and leave now if he wanted. He

didn’t. Instead, he found himself pushing his ass up towards the onslaught.

“Ah!” Dean grunted.

“Seven will do,” Ethan said, running a hand over Dean’s bright red ass. Ethan sucked

on a finger and inserted it into Dean’s waiting hole, wiggling it until Dean squirmed, then he

withdrew it. “Under normal circumstances, I have a salve that I can put on it, but as I want

you in the hot tub now, it will wait.”

Dean nodded. Ethan’s hand planted on his back, kept him in place when he tried to

stand. Dean’s mind whirled. Was he supposed to thank Ethan now, kiss his feet, or what?

Taking a deep breath, he went with his gut. “I’m sorry Master for not trust—I mean not

telling you what happened when you asked.”

Ethan kissed the back of Dean’s neck, sending the sensations straight to his cock.

“Apology accepted, love. You need to trust me,” Ethan said softly. “Up. Let’s go soak in the

tub.”

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He groaned as Ethan helped him into a sitting position, before retrieving his cane from

the side of the couch and slowly standing up. Ethan stood beside him and led the way back

to the kitchen. Stopping when Ethan started up the stairs, Dean stared at the staircase, not

relishing the idea of going up and down it tonight.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Dean watched Ethan climb the stairs, staring at the firm ass encased in black, before

moving towards the kitchen and sitting down gingerly on one of the chairs to wait. Heat and

pain radiated from his tender ass. He’d been surprised how much being spanked by a paddle

had turned him on. He’d been in pain before, less and more, and it didn’t have the same

effect on him. This, he’d enjoyed. While he wasn’t sorry for dealing with Bill himself, he had

disobeyed. Now, if Ethan would fuck him, it would be worth getting another spanking.

Dean smiled as Ethan came into the kitchen wearing a robe and carrying a stack of

towels with him.

“Outside love,” Ethan said, hanging onto two of the towels.

“What about your neighbours?” Dean asked, standing and making his way to the

French doors opening up from the breakfast nook in the kitchen. The summer sun had nearly

disappeared below the horizon.

“Ten foot privacy fence, one of my few changes to the house.”

Nodding, Dean followed Ethan out of the house, across the deck and up two steps to a

large, screened-in cedar gazebo. Inside the gazebo, built-in benches butted up against the

walls surrounding a large eight-person, sunken hot tub. “Nice,” Dean said, the screen door

closing behind them.

“Thank you. In,” Ethan ordered, pushing a button on the wall. Music poured from

ceiling-mounted speakers.

Dean looked around for a nearby bench to lean his cane against, not wanting it to get

wet, but knowing he couldn’t get far without it today. Ethan took the cane from him when

Dean bent to lay it on the deck. Thanking him, he grabbed hold of the stainless steel rail for

support and lowered himself into the hot water. Beside him, jets roared to life as Ethan

disrobed, hanging it and the cane on a hook Dean hadn’t seen earlier. The colourful tiger on

Ethan’s shoulder seemed to stalk across the muscle as it moved.

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“I don’t know if I’ll want to get out,” Dean said, leaning against the tub, the jets

pummelling his body.

“I’m glad you like it. We’ll make a point to have you spend at least an hour in here

every night.”

“I’d like that, but only if you’re coming in, too,” Dean replied.

Ethan took a seat down from him and tugged at Dean’s injured leg until it was in

Ethan’s lap. Dean relaxed under Ethan’s ministrations, his eyes closing, the pain in his leg

and ass ebbing. Dean opened his eyes as Ethan’s hands slid up his thigh, cupping his balls.

His cock hardened, aching with need. One hand gripped his shaft, one held his balls. Dean

moaned as Ethan squeezed and kissed him. Dean thrust into Ethan’s hand.

“Fuck me, please.”

“Not without a condom, love.” Ethan pumped Dean’s cock. “Come for me. Come for

your Master.”

“Master!” Dean’s balls drew up. Pleasure-pain arched through him as his body obeyed

the command, long pearly ropes releasing into the bubbling water. Blindly, he reached for

Ethan, needing to feel him, to hold him.

Dean caught his breath and found Ethan standing in front of him. He adjusted his body

slightly, grabbed onto Ethan’s hips, and brought the tip of Ethan’s penis into his mouth. He

licked the head, before tracing the shaft with his tongue and engulfing Ethan’s cock. Setting a

rhythm, Dean’s body tightened when Ethan grabbed his head, encouraging him to go

deeper. Ethan’s balls drew up and his grip tightened slightly before pushing Dean away.

Dean held tight, drawing Ethan’s cock deeper into his mouth, sucking relentlessly, wanting

everything Ethan could give him. Ethan cried out. Dean swallowed, not missing a drop, then

cleaned his cock and balls.

Ethan bent down, kissing Dean deep. “Impertinent, but wonderful, love. I’ll be right

back.”

Dean smiled and nodded, watching Ethan get out of the tub and make his way back

into the house. He reappeared minutes later with a bottle of Smugglers’ Cove Moon Rise Pale

Ale and a bottle of Coke. Handing the bottle of Coke to Dean, he sank down beside him.

“Is there a meaning behind your tattoo?” Dean asked, leaning back into Ethan’s arms.

“To me it means survivor. Strength.”

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“Will you tell me why?” Dean asked, trailing his fingers across Ethan’s arms.

Ethan was silent for several minutes before saying anything. “I’m a survivor. I am

greater than what I was supposed to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“My mother was an unwed teenager when she had me. She married Rick, my step-dad,

and had a son, Jared, by him. Three years later, two weeks before Christmas, she left us for

some guy who got her hooked on drugs. Her parents got custody of me because Rick had

Jared and didn’t need or want me. My grandparents were killed in a car accident when I was

thirteen so I was sent back to my Mom. She had married another guy, who kicked me out of

the house when I was fifteen because I was gay.”

“What did you do?” Dean asked cautiously. His heart ached for Ethan’s life, and he

wondered how he could talk so freely to him about it.

“Lived on the streets, found my way to a shelter, where in exchange for room and

board, I worked. Went to school and got a full ride scholarship to college. The rest is history.”

Dean squeezed Ethan’s arms and turned around to face him. “How…why…I…” Dean

started, unsure of how to phrase his feelings.

Ethan kissed him. “I can tell you, because I trust you.”

Dean’s leg buckled and gave out. Ethan caught him and scooped him up into his arms.

“Hang on and don’t move,” Ethan commanded, adjusting Dean’s weight. Slowly, he

made his way upstairs, depositing Dean in the centre of the bed. He left, going back

downstairs to finish locking up and retrieve the fallen cane. Dean was sitting up on the edge

of the bed when Ethan returned.

“Stay. Are your pills in your bag or in the bathroom?”

“Bathroom.”

Ethan found the pill bottle on the counter, took one out and filled a glass with water. He

returned to find Dean lying against the headboard, eyes closed. Sitting down next to him, he

set the glass on nightstand and ran a hand down Dean’s chest. Ethan’s gaze fixed on Dean’s

face, and he missed the movement until Dean seized his wrist. Blue eyes stared at him,

distant and unfocused.

“Dean,” Ethan called softly. “Release me.”

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Dean blinked rapidly, a look of horror crossing his face. Ethan wrapped his arms

around the other man as he tried to retreat across the bed. Ethan manoeuvred his body until

he was behind Dean. He realised it was a bad idea at the same moment his cock registered

contact with Dean’s warm body. Shrugging, he pulled Dean closer then gave him the pain

pill and the water. He could happily spend the rest of his life like this, with Dean’s slightly

smaller body wrapped in his. He had been certain there hadn’t been a nurturing bone in his

body, and if there had been, it had been destroyed with one to many years on the street.

“Now,” Dean said, the word coming out a cross between a question and a plea.

“What now, love?” Ethan asked, flicking the ring in Dean’s nipple, eliciting a gasp.

“Fuck me. Fill me. Please. Need it,” Dean said, arching back. “Please, Ethan. Master.

Please.”

“On your back in the centre,” Ethan ordered, waiting for Dean to comply before

retrieving several items from his drawer. He’d gotten his HIV test results back that morning,

but he’d made a promise a long time ago to bareback only the man he’d collared, and even if

he was almost certain Dean was the one he wanted to collar, he wasn’t positive Dean would

accept his collar. Especially now that Dean was beginning to understanding the true meaning

of being another man’s submissive.

Bending down, he inhaled Dean’s scent and took a ring into his mouth, tugging gently.

Dean cried out and arched his body into Ethan. After licking it one more time, Ethan let it go

and attacked the other nipple with the same attention. Dean moaned.

“Fuck me, please. Let me have your big cock, Master. Please,” Dean begged.

Ethan smiled, sat back, and retrieved a chain hung between two clips. He dragged the

chain across Dean’s thigh, up his balls and rock-hard cock, over his chiselled abdomen, up to

his nipples. He fastened a clip to each ring then tugged gently.

“Ah!”

Ethan smiled then kissed and sucked and left his mark above Dean’s left nipple. He

reached for the condom and came up with air.

“Let me,” Dean said, propping himself up, condom and lube in hand.

Ethan nodded, tugging on the chain. Dean moved until Ethan’s cock was right in front

of his mouth. Ethan moaned in pleasure. Vibrations spread down his cock and through his

body from something Dean had said while enveloping his cock. Dean’s tongue swirled and

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probed, before he withdrew and kissed the tip. He ripped open the foil package and rolled it

on. Ethan growled when Dean’s mouth encased his latex-covered cock.

Sapphire-blue eyes twinkled mischievously up at Ethan when Dean finally released his

cock. Ethan retrieved the lube from Dean’s fingers before the man could torture him further.

He wanted to bury himself in Dean’s ass now. Images of Dean’s bright red ass earlier had

him growling a second time. Dean’s hands coated him with lube before using the excess on

himself. Ethan watched, waiting for Dean to stretch himself. When he didn’t, he moved to do

it himself and Dean stopped him.

“No?” Ethan asked, looking up. Dean hadn’t asked for anything specific before. If he

allowed Dean’s request, sex without stretching, he knew Dean would hurt. Ethan exhaled

slowly and saw the need in Dean’s eyes. “You don’t want to be stretched?”

“No, please. I want to feel you all night and tomorrow while I’m in therapy. Please,”

Dean pleaded, turning his blue eyes up at him. Ethan sighed and nodded. He was lost. Dean

returned to the centre of the bed and lay on his back.

Ethan positioned himself between Dean’s spread legs, using a pillow under Dean’s

hips. With his gaze trained on Dean’s face, he carefully propped Dean’s legs up on his

shoulders. The head of his cock pushed against Dean’s waiting hole. Ethan braced himself,

forcing himself to move slowly, pushing steadily into Dean’s unstretched body. When he

was fully seated, he paused, allowing Dean to become accustomed to his presence. Ethan

toyed with the chain and Dean’s cock, watching his lover squirm.

When Dean’s moans turned to pleas, Ethan began moving, setting a comfortable

rhythm, bringing Dean closer and closer to the edge, before backing down, only to repeat the

motion. Feeling his own climax near, Ethan powered into Dean.

“I’m coming!” Dean called out. His hand pumped his cock.

Ethan tugged on the chain and slammed into Dean, sending them both over the edge,

Dean’s seed covering both of them. Ethan lowered Dean’s legs, kissing him. Carefully, he slid

out then off the bed. Once in the bathroom, Ethan disposed of the used condom and washed

himself. He returned to the bed to wash Dean, before dropping the soiled washcloth into the

basket of dirty clothes. Ethan crawled on the bed and under the covers, pulling Dean with

him. He enfolded Dean in his arms and inhaled deeply, kissing the back of his lover’s neck.

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Chapter Eight

Ethan jerked awake.

An elbow dug into his side. Beside him, Dean tossed and turned, crying out. Ethan

turned on the table lamp and pulled the struggling man towards him. Ethan swallowed a

gasp at the look of pure terror etched into Dean’s face. Dean continued to flail, and it pulled

at Ethan’s heart. What had his man seen over there? Ethan shook his head, pushed the

questions aside and focused on Dean. Cooing and talking softly, he held on, reminding Dean

that he was safe and cared for, encouraging him to wake up. It was the second nightmare in

as many nights. Was it normal? He’d thought Dean was seeing someone. It should’ve helped.

Ethan tightened his hold on Dean. Maybe Dean needed something or someone else.

“No!” Dean sat up, pulling out of his arms.

Ethan’s heart broke. “Dean,” he said. He put a hand on the other man’s shoulder, the

name coming out more of a command than he had intended.

Dean stopped moving and fell back to the bed, turning on his side and rolling away.

“Dean, look at me,” Ethan ordered, softening his voice.

“Please, leave me alone.”

“Dean, look. At. Me.”

Slowly, Dean rolled over. Ethan pulled him into his arms.

“Can you talk about it?” As much as he wanted Dean to open up to him, he couldn’t

order that, he could only hope that he’d seek professional help.

Dean buried himself in Ethan’s arms, but he couldn’t meet Ethan’s eyes. He couldn’t see

the revulsion he’d knew he’d find. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to relive those

months again and again. He wanted peace and quiet, silence and freedom from the

memories. Taking a deep breath, he forced away the tears welling up. He could get through

this. He had to. He was a Marine. He could take anything. This was no different than

anything else that had been thrown at him. He’d beat this, too. There was no other option.

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“Talk to me, love,” Ethan said. His hand rubbed circles on the small of Dean’s back, and

he made no effort to move him from where he’d settled.

Dean shifted slightly until he stared at Ethan’s chest. “I…I…” Dean started, before

giving up.

“Iraq?”

Not trusting his voice again, he nodded. He didn’t want to start talking about it,

because he wasn’t sure if he could stop, and he enjoyed being held by Ethan. He didn’t want

that to go away. He inhaled Ethan’s scent. He owed Ethan some sort of explanation. His

Master had told him of his life because he trusted Dean. Would it hurt to tell Dean of this

dream?

“So, much blood and debris everywhere. Events get mixed up. One of the amtrax, the

amphibious assault vehicle, exploded, but then I was in a building when a wall came down.

Then I remember crawling through blood and…and…” Dean answered.

Ethan pulled him closer. “And?”

“One of my buddys was killed, but,” Dean began, shaking his head, “that buddy, my

buddy Avery, didn’t die. James Avery is the one who pulled me to safety. Put a tourniquet

on my leg. Got me to the medic. He saved my life. But so many weren’t saved.”

“Have you seen Avery since you’ve been out?”

Dean shook his head. “Avery and I weren’t real close before that.”

“Would you like to?”

Dean nodded. “They’re deployed now, though.”

“Let’s find out when they’re due back, and we can go meet the plane and you can see

him.”

“I’d like that.”

“Go to sleep, love,” Ethan whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Ethan swiped a finger over Dean’s cheek and pulled him closer. Dean rested his head

and curled his body around Ethan’s and closed his eyes, content for the few moments of

peace and silence.

* * * *

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The next day, Ethan pulled into the driveway of his house and parked the truck. He

hated the fact that he had to drive back to work tonight, but until he and his partners decided

on a different way of doing things, he had little choice. He knew he could’ve followed Dean’s

suggestion and dropped him off at Carla’s, but he wanted Dean at his house, dependent on

him for a while longer. He knew Dean wanted to ride his motorcycle while the weather held,

but Ethan wasn’t convinced that riding after therapy sessions was a good idea. Dean was

exhausted, and his leg was weaker than normal, even after a nap. Ethan also needed Dean to

understand that submission to a master, any master, included more than sex.

Taking a deep breath he got out of the truck and walked into the house. He found the

list of chores on the kitchen counter that he’d left for Dean when he’d brought him home

after his therapy session. Dean’s initials were next to each item. Quietly, he made his way

through the house to the living room. Dean sat, stretched out on the couch, facing him,

absorbed in a battered laptop. His gaze was distant and sad. For a moment, Ethan thought

about going back to the kitchen and making sure he’d be heard, but decided against the idea.

Calling out instead, he walked into the living room.

“Ethan!” Dean jumped, automatically starting to shut the lid of the laptop.

“Where did the laptop come from?” Ethan asked, staying the lid with his hand. He

hadn’t collared Dean, so he wouldn’t invade his privacy, but he’d been serious when he’d

told Dean that he couldn’t have secrets from his master.

“Carla. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Are you finished?”

“I was just catching up on email. One of my buddies sent me a video,” Dean answered.

“Do you… You want to see it?”

Ethan smiled and kissed the top of Dean’s head. “Thank you, no. Everything on the list

was completed?”

“Yes, Master,” Dean answered, shutting the laptop and getting to his feet.

“Since you’re ready to go, there’s no need for you to stop,” Ethan said, backing away.

He’d hoped to have Dean join him in the shower tonight, a plan he’d had this morning, but

was thwarted by Dean’s wandering hands and luscious mouth.

“Do we have to go now?” Dean asked, sliding his hands over Ethan’s groin and under

his shirt, untucking it.

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“Did you bring stuff down here?” Ethan ground out. “Here. Now.”

“Yes.” Dean nodded and indicated the table at the end of the couch where he’d been

sitting.

“Strip. On your back, on the floor,” Ethan ordered, grabbing the lube and condom from

the end table and sitting on the edge of the couch as he watched Dean slowly remove his

clothes.

Ethan groaned, stood, pushed down his pants and underwear and knelt between

Dean’s spread thighs. Quickly, he tore open the packets and rolled on the condoms, first on

Dean then on himself. Ethan lubed his cock and used the excess to stretch Dean’s puckered

hole. At three fingers, Dean had started to rock back. Ethan withdrew his fingers and

positioned the head of his cock at Dean’s entrance. Slowly, he pushed forwards, burying

himself in Dean’s ass. Ethan slapped Dean’s ass, eliciting a yelp before withdrawing and

plunging forward. He set a hard and fast rhythm. Dean pushed back into him.

“Harder. Ethan, please,” Dean begged.

Ethan obliged and reached around, and grabbed Dean’s cock, pumping it at the same

pace he’d set. “Come for me.”

“I’m coming!” Dean screamed, his body tightening.

Ethan slammed home, his balls drew up, and he emptied his seed into the condom.

Breathing hard, he collapsed onto Dean, aware enough to hold most of his weight off his

lover. Reluctantly, he slipped out of Dean’s ass and removed both of their condoms. After

ordering Dean to his side, he left, returning shortly with a warm wash cloth. He cleaned

them both up, dressed then went to dispose of the wash cloth. Returning to the living room,

he helped Dean to his feet then sat on the arm of the couch and watched him dress.

“Let’s go, love,” Ethan sighed, as they walked to the truck.

“Why don’t you want to go?”

“I’d like to spend every night at home with you.”

“But, I thought this is what you and your partners had agreed on,” Dean said, climbing

up into the passenger side of the truck.

“It made sense when we were single and no one really knew how to cook.”

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“Well, can’t you just do an on-call rotation like they do at hospitals? That way if you

want to go in, you can, but if you don’t they can still reach you? The manager, what’s his

name, Tanner, he seems like a capable person.”

“He is, that’s why he’s manager.”

“And you have the same sort of manager for the brewery side, right?” Dean asked as

they headed downtown towards Smugglers’ Cove.

Ethan nodded. “I’ll bring it up to Marc and Caleb tomorrow.” Ethan mentally kicked

himself for not seeing the solution earlier. Truth be told, there had been no reason to change

the way things were going, until this week he’d had no one to go home to. He gripped the

steering wheel. Starting next week, once again, there would be no reason to go home early.

The light turned red, he stopped the truck, leant over and kissed Dean. “Thank you, I think

you’ve found the perfect solution for us.”

Dean beamed.

At the restaurant, Ethan parked in the spot reserved for him and turned off the engine.

He turned and laid a hand on Dean’s thigh. “Dean, at no point tonight will I give permission

for another man to touch you in any way. I will ask that you try to keep your reactions under

control, but I understand your training may overrule my orders.”

“Thank you, Ethan. I can’t make any promises, except that I’ll try.”

“Tonight, that’s all I ask.”

They walked into the brewery and let Tanner lead them to the back table reserved for

the owners. Ethan asked the manager how things were running before asking if he thought

having the owners around nightly was necessary. Ethan swore the man was going to

swallow his tongue. After a reluctant negative answer, he told them that Lorne was their

waiter again for the night and left.

“Good evening, Mr. Hudson and Mr. Moreland,” Lorne said, swallowing hard. “What

can I start you off with tonight?”

“Is Mason cooking tonight?”

“Yes, Mr. Moreland, I believe he is.”

“I want a Summer Solstice,” Ethan answered. “Love?”

“Coke.”

Ethan nodded and watched Lorne bolt. “You’re taking a pain pill?”

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“I took one about a half hour before you got home. Um, Ethan, will there be time to

soak in the hot tub tonight?”

“You will be able to, but I have a few things that I need to take care of before I can join

you,” Ethan replied. His mind automatically went to the list of things to do before they left

for the fairgrounds at the end of the week. They needed to leave Friday afternoon to get to

the site at a decent time so they could discuss the upcoming shows, do any last minute fixes

to the armour and make sure the fight list was still secure. “You get out of therapy at eleven-

thirty tomorrow, correct?”

“Yes, Ethan.”

“Mr. Moreland,” Lorne said, bringing their drinks. “I’m sorry. Mason called in sick. Jon

is cooking tonight.”

Ethan thanked him, told him to have Tanner see him, and they placed their orders of

burgers and fries. He didn’t have anything against Jon or his cooking, but as far creating new

meals, he lacked the basic knowledge and desire.

“Mr. Moreland, Lorne said you wished to see me.”

“Yes, I realise that we’ve had employees call in before, but I want you to follow up with

Mason and make sure everything is all right.”

“Any particular reason, sir?”

“He was perfectly fine last night,” Ethan replied.

Tanner nodded. “Yes, sir, Mr. Moreland. Will there be anything else?”

“No.”

“Why are you concerned about the cook?” Dean asked sharply after Tanner had left.

“Gut. Mason never calls in. He’s been sent home sick, but he’s never called in,” Ethan

answered. “I’m not interested in Mason, as good of a cook as he is. I’m interested in you,”

Ethan added, sensing possible jealousy in his lover. He squeezed Dean’s hand, brought it to

his lips, and kissed it.

* * * *

“You are to soak in the hot tub for an hour,” Ethan said, releasing Dean’s cock when

they pulled into the driveway.

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“Aren’t you coming in, too?”

“No, I need to get things ready for this weekend. We’re camping at the fairgrounds

again. Can you sleep all right on an air mattress?” Ethan asked as they made their way into

the house.

“I can sleep anywhere. I prefer your bed, though.” Dean smiled.

“I prefer you there, too, however, the drive is too long to make every day this

weekend.”

“Are there going to be problems with me staying with you?” Dean asked, sitting down

on one of the kitchen chairs.

“No, my friends already know I’m seeing you, so they won’t be surprised. In fact,

they’re looking forward to getting to know you better.”

“Do they know, I’m your, ah…” Dean asked, undressing.

“Do they know you’re my sub? No, but they’ll suspect it. And again, you’re not

expected to serve them or anyone else unless its part of your persona in the faire, which you

will need to think about. While we’re there, I don’t expect you to call me Master, but I do

expect you to defer to me in all things still. Again, I will not share you nor give permission to

anyone to touch or grope you. I’m not in a sharing mood,” Ethan said. “Let me get the tub

ready for you. Then I’ll get you a drink and towels. I may join you later.”

Dean nodded. When the hot tub was ready, he sank in and enjoyed the soothing affects

the water had on his body. He hated the way he looked, was repulsed by it, but Ethan

wasn’t. He paid attention to him, touched his body, his scars. He’d even kissed them. Ethan

was constantly telling him how beautiful and perfect his body was. Dean sighed. Ethan was

gorgeous, could get any man he wanted, but he’d asked Dean to stay with him. Ethan made

him feel human again and not like some scarred freak to be pointed at and pitied, but man

enough to be loved. He could easily fall in love with Ethan.

“Here you go, love,” Ethan said, handing him a glass of ice water and pulling him from

his thoughts.

“Thank you.”

Ethan smiled, turned and left the gazebo.

Dean closed his eyes and allowed his body to float in the hot water, the pain leaving

him as his muscles relaxed and unwound. His mind wandered, wondering how different it

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would be if he belonged to Ethan. He’d done some looking on the internet. Would Ethan

want him to sign a contract? Would he lose contact with his family? His friends? What about

his application to school? He’d finally gotten around to applying. The GI Bill would cover the

costs and his disability cheques were finally straightened out. Would Ethan want control of

his money? He relished the freedom that belonging to Ethan gave him, but he still had so

many questions. If he had to make a decision based on what he knew now, he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t belong to Ethan. There were still too many unknown variables. He could ask

Ethan and probably should since Ethan would know more, but he was in uncharted territory.

In this situation it was better to observe first, and then try and find answers from a more

neutral source. His lack of knowledge would make it easy for Ethan or anyone to manipulate

him into a position he wasn’t completely comfortable with.

“Hey, love, are you ready to go upstairs?” Ethan asked, standing at the edge of the hot

tub.

Dean turned and smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Yes, Master, I’d like that.”

“I noticed you call me that more often. How does it make you feel?” Ethan grabbed

Dean’s cane and held it out for him.

“It’s still weird at times, and I’m not always sure when to use what, but it’s becoming

natural,” Dean replied honestly, pulling himself up the hot tub stairs.

“I see. And how does it make you feel?”

“Safe. Loved. I still have questions.”

“You are, love, you are. Questions are good. When you’re ready to talk about them, we

will.”

Ethan helped Dean dry off, before turning off the tub and covering it. Dean made his

way upstairs while Ethan locked up. Tossing the towel into the laundry basket, he sat down

on the edge of the bed. His cock hardened when he heard Ethan come up the stairs. He loved

the feel of Ethan filling his ass.

Dean listened as the water in the shower turned on. Ethan would be naked, the water

running down his hard body. His long hair plastered to his face, framing his dark-coloured

eyes. The images floating in front Dean seemed so real he could grab them, and he groaned.

Could he do it? Could he belong to Ethan? To always call him Master, to never make

his own choices again? Dean shook his head. No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t mind seeing

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Ethan longer, but he needed to make his own choices. For years, he’d obeyed orders, even

when he’d disagreed with them. He needed to be able to make his own decisions, to go in

whatever direction he saw fit. He hadn’t told Ethan that he’d filled out the application for

school. He’d put money into the GI Bill so he might as well use it, though he didn’t have a

clue what he wanted to do with his life. Tonight though, he wanted release. He wanted

Ethan’s cock filling him, hard and fast, until he couldn’t see straight.

Palming a condom from the nightstand, he grabbed his cane cursing its need, and made

his way into the bathroom. He hadn’t dressed, preferring to sleep nude curled up next to

Ethan. Setting his cane to one side, he held his breath and opened the shower door. He knew

his leg was getting stronger, but its undependability still irritated him. Brushing the thoughts

away, he started to kneel in front of Ethan, only to be stopped by him.

“There is a bench, sit there,” Ethan said, pulling him to his feet.

Dean obeyed, reluctantly grateful not to have to kneel. Water washed over him. He

leant forward and palmed Ethan’s quickly hardening cock and balls. He closed his eyes and

took Ethan’s full length into his mouth. Sucking gently, his tongue swirled down the length

until only the head was left in his mouth. The tip of his tongue found Ethan’s slit, while one

finger pushed at his hole. Ethan’s ass clenched against the invader, and Ethan growled. Dean

released his grip, tore open the foil packet and carefully rolled the condom onto Ethan’s cock.

“Stand and turn.”

Dean obeyed. Ethan pressed a hand to the centre of Dean’s back, forcing his ass out

further. Dean shifted his weight, so that most of it rested on his hands and good leg, as a

soapy finger slid into his ass, stretching him. He loved the feel of Ethan’s body in his. He’d

never get enough. Ethan’s grip changed, and he felt the head of Ethan’s cock replace the

fingers. Dean braced himself as Ethan slid into him, filling him. Ethan fucked him hard and

fast, using one hand to pump his cock. Ethan squeezed his cock and pegged his prostate.

“Ah!” Dean cried out, his balls drawing up. He shot his seed onto the bench. Ethan

slammed into him and stiffened, his body shuddering as he came.

“Nice surprise, love,” Ethan said, withdrawing.

Dean turned and sat down on the bench, thankful his body hadn’t betrayed him. They

washed up then turned the water off just as it turned cold. After drying off, they made their

way back to the bed, and Ethan wrapped him in the safety of his arms.

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Chapter Nine

Dean watched Ethan pull out of the driveway and head back to his office at Smugglers’

Cove. Ethan had picked him up from the medical centre, had bought him lunch then taken

him hard and fast on their bed. He’d had brought Dean to the edge but had refused to let

him cum. Then he’d inserted a butt plug into Dean’s ass before telling him to put on a pair of

sweatpants and work on the list of chores he’d left on the counter.

Dean blew out a frustrated breath. He knew he could come if he wanted to. For the

most part, Ethan would never know. But Dean would, and he found himself wanting Ethan’s

praise and approval. It was only Thursday halfway through the promised week. Since

Monday, he’d been to the VA daily for various appointments, filled out his school

application and had found out the results from his last HIV test, not to mention the number

of times they’d been out to dinner. The time alone between when Ethan dropped him off at

the house after his doctor or therapy appointments and when Ethan arrived home at night,

coupled with the hour or two spent in the hot tub, had given him plenty of time to think. He

wasn’t certain, and he couldn’t figure out why he would be okay with submitting to Ethan,

when he’d never thought of submitting to anyone else, let alone giving serious thought to

belonging to someone.

Fingering the chain around his neck, he made his way into the counter to read his list of

tasks to accomplish in the next several hours. Dean smiled, reading the short note.

Love, I know you’ve had a hard day at therapy, so before you begin your chores, go upstairs, set

the alarm for an hour and take a nap. After that, empty all the trash cans in the house, do the dishes
and clean the kitchen. If you finish all of that, take some time and reflect on what it means to belong to

me. I expect you to rest frequently and not overexert yourself. Injuries resulting from carelessness or

overexertion will be punished. Your Master.

“Hey, sis,” Dean said, answering his cell phone on the second ring, checking off the

first and second items on his list. “What can I do for you?”

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““Dean? What are you doing? How are things with you and Ethan?”

“Did Ethan tell you to call?”

“No, I want to know. He’s my friend, but you’re my brother. I want to know how

you’re doing and how he’s treating you,” Carla replied, before mumbling something to

someone on the other end of the phone. “Sorry, taking a break from work. So, spill.”

“How much do you know about Ethan?”

“A lot, why?”

Dean inhaled deeply, pausing before answering. “What do you know about BDSM?”

“Bondage and Discipline, Sadomasochism?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“I know it’s about power-exchange, and that it makes some people happy. Why?”

“Would you do it?” Dean retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator before taking

a seat at the kitchen table.

“Dean, everyone does it in some way. In every relationship there is always a more

dominant partner. As for the technical parts, no I don’t really like bondage or pain, unless

I’m administering it, but I don’t mind letting someone else take care of me. It’s nice

occasionally.”

“So, you’re not a dominant?”

“More of a switch, because I like to play both parts. Why?”

Dean hesitated at his sister’s prying question.

“Dean? Ethan and I have discussed the subject on occasion. What is he asking from

you?”

Dean took a drink from the water bottle, trying to pick and choose his words. “I don’t

know, Carla. Shit, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you. Do you think it

makes a person less of a…well, a guy less of man if he’s submissive?”

“No. Ultimately the power rests with the sub, because they get to say no. To tell their

Dom, when their hard limits have been reached. A good Top won’t go beyond those. I know

Ethan won’t. He’s seen too much to go beyond a hard limit. If you said the word no, I know

he’d stop in a heartbeat. It’s the type of man he is.” Carla paused and took a drink of

something. “Dean, I know that Ethan is a Top. He’s a Master. Do you want to know if I think

it’s okay to be a submissive? Yes. Am I okay with you being a sub? Again, yes. It doesn’t

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change who you are. A sub finds fulfilment in pleasing their Master or Mistress. The Master

or Mistress finds satisfaction and fulfilment in the sub. ”

“How can I not have known all these years that this was a part of me? How can I be a

Marine and be a submissive?” Dean asked, scrubbing a hand over his head.

“My best guess, brother, is that you are one of those people that might only belong to

one person. As for being a Marine and a submissive, you have too much intelligence and

honour to follow anyone just because they gave you a command. Voluntarily submitting to

someone is a lot different than being a mindless slave. Ethan doesn’t have to control your

every action, and I’m not sure how happy you’d be if he did, at least not right now, but there

are submissives like that. That’s where and how they find happiness. Dean, this is probably a

conversation you should be having with Ethan.”

“I know, but I get confused and tongue-tied when I’m around him. When we’re

together my body wants to submit, but my head won’t let me.”

“What does your heart want?”

“Both and neither.”

“You’re scared, and that’s normal, but until you figure out what your heart wants, you

won’t be satisfied with either option.”

“I lose everything, my rights, and my identity, everything if I become his property.”

“No, you don’t. Belonging to Ethan frees you to be yourself. Also, there are contracts for

safety and limits. You lose nothing and gain everything. Now, I’m sure, Ethan has a list of

things for you to do in the next couple of hours, so you’d best get back to work.”

“Thanks, Carla.”

“Dean, you’re my brother, and I love you. I will always love you, but you need to talk

to Ethan. This isn’t a step to be taken lightly. Not by either party.”

* * * *

“Master, may I ask you a question?” Dean asked later that night his head resting on

Ethan’s chest, his ass deliciously sore. Ethan had taken him multiple times since they’d

returned from the restaurant earlier. Dean smiled at the memories. He’d been fucked right

before they’d gotten into the hot tub, bent over the counter later, and twice in bed.

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“Of course, love.”

“Carla called earlier,” Dean started. He’d been thinking about what Carla had said to

him all afternoon. He knew he needed more information before he could go any further. He

needed to know what Ethan wanted and expected from him.

“And?”

“Will you answer some questions for me?”

Ethan rolled them over until he was on top of Dean. “If I can, love.”

“You talk about submissives and belonging and stuff, but I don’t know what you want

from me. What kind of submission are you after? What are you expecting from me? What

difference is there between a submissive and slave? What rights would I still have? You’re

asking a lot from me, and I don’t have all of the information I need. I can only get so much

from the internet.”

“The differences between slave and submissive are slight, as both submit to the will of

another, and depending on who you are talking to the terms are interchangeable. A slave is

found more in BDSM where as a submissive is found more in a D/s relationship.”

“You’ve used the terms interchangeably,” Dean said, wondering exactly Ethan would

place him.

Ethan nodded. “I have, yes.”

“What do you want from me?”

“A little of both. While I require the submission of your will to mine, there are times, a

good portion of them probably, as I have become addicted to reddening your ass, when I

want you to be more slave than free man. Where you submit, voluntarily, to my whip.”

Dean felt himself blush. He was beginning to enjoy Ethan’s punishments, finding

release in just feeling and obeying, the pain reminding him that as long as Ethan was happy,

he had no worries. It was something he hadn’t told Carla, had barely been able to admit to

himself. “Would you sell me? Or give me to someone else?”

“No. You enter service with me and you exit with me. Both of us must agree to the

entrance and leaving. I will know if you want to leave. I can, if you want, arrange for you to

meet with another Master, but otherwise, I would let you go, caring for you in any way I can

whether it’s financial, emotional or helping you decide on your next partner, until you no

longer needed me.”

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“I see.”

“It takes a lot of strength to submit to someone else’s will, to trust a person that much.

We will take it slow. There is no need to rush anything,” Ethan said quietly. “I will never

violate your basic rights or your hard limits. Your safe words will put an end to it. I

promise.”

Dean nodded. “You’re hard again,” he said, feeling the evidence of Ethan’s desire

pressed against his body.

“And what do you propose to do about it?” Ethan asked, nipping at the corner of

Dean’s mouth. “Are you going to take care of your Master?”

Ethan nodded, wiggled under Ethan’s weight and proceeded to do just that.

* * * *

“Yo, the camp!”

Fingering the chain around his neck, Dean turned and saw three men and two women

walk up to the group of people sitting around the campfire carrying coolers and camping

gear. He thought he recognised them from last weekend, but he couldn’t be sure. Ethan had

said earlier, over dinner that most everyone was at the campsite now and that first thing in

the morning, they would move the armour and weapons back into the list. Everyone had

been friendly to him.

The talks he’d had with Carla and Ethan on Thursday, intermingled with more

information he’d found on-line that morning, including pictures and videos of things he’d

never tried, but found himself thinking about repeatedly now. He still hadn’t figured out

how to reconcile his sexual desire with his mental and emotional needs. He was a Marine. He

was used to being in more control of himself and his surroundings. He wasn’t afraid of

taking charge and making decisions.

Two more couples had arrived after they had. Ethan asked Dean to help the women get

the cook area setup while the others put up the tents. He was relieved and angry at the same

time. He knew helping to carrying the camping gear would’ve been difficult, but he could’ve

done it. He hated that Ethan treated him like he was made of glass and couldn’t do anything.

But Ethan reminded him that the week wasn’t over, and he needed to obey or be punished.

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Dean scowled. He’d given his word. There were two more days before life could go back to

normal. But did he want normal? Dean shook his head. He didn’t want normal. He wanted

Ethan, but Ethan came with strings he couldn’t take.

“Drink up, love,” Ethan said, handing him a bottle of water and pulling him from his

thoughts. Ethan disappeared with a couple of the other guys and began hauling more gear

into area. In no time, another tent had been erected, plastic tubs stowed, camp chairs set up

and coolers moved to the food area which was surrounded by a large screened in tent.

Dean’s leg began to throb. He was tired, but it didn’t seem like anyone was going to bed

soon. He’d slept with more noise, but he always woke up easily now. Unless, he was

wrapped in Ethan’s arms, he reminded himself. Movement out of the corner of his eye

caught his attention a moment before strong hands gripped his shoulders. He looked up and

saw Ethan gazing down at him.

“Getting tired, love?” Ethan asked, rubbing his shoulders.

Dean nodded.

Ethan kissed his neck. “Take it,” he whispered. “We’ll go to bed soon.”

Dean glanced down to see one of his pain pills in Ethan’s hand, nodded and took it.

Minutes turned to hours, and after a while, Dean had trouble paying attention to the

conversation but was content to listen to the revelry around him. The fire crackled, and he

was reminded of nights spent talking and joking with his unit. They’d become brothers over

there. Pulling each other up when needed, sharing care packages and letters. For some, the

unit was the only family they had. They’d watched each other’s backs, kidded around over

stupid stuff and fixed mistakes. Well, some of them.

Some mistakes couldn’t be fixed. He’d lost count of how many times he fired his

weapon and how many times somebody had shot at him, but he knew the name and face of

every friend who’d never made it out. They haunted his dreams, accused him of failing or

not trying hard enough, but mostly they just died over and over again. Infused by the daily

fear he’d felt, they’d all felt, his friends neither the living nor the dead had ever left him.

A finger brushed his cheek, startling him. Dean glanced up, instinctively relieved by the

presence of his lover. Ethan’s dark gaze held something Dean hadn’t seen before.

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“Ethan, I…” Dean inhaled deeply. He’d forgotten where he was. For a moment, he’d

been with his buddies, shortly after mail call. His mom had sent something for everyone…

Dean closed his mind to the quickly surfacing memories.

“Time for bed, love,” Ethan said softly, his hand caressing Dean’s skin. He handed

Dean his cane and helped him stand. “Night all.”

Dean looked up and waved. Almost everyone in their campsite was still up but had

quieted down. He could tell from the noise drifting their way, many of the other campers

were still partying. Grateful to be going to bed, Dean hoped Ethan would be enough to keep

away the nightmares. He hated depending on anyone for anything, but tonight, surrounded

by all of these people in an area where sound carried, he hoped for his sake and Ethan’s,

there would be no dreams. No nightmares. Numbly, he moved away from the campfire and

into the tent. The sound of the zipper brought him back from his thoughts.

“Ethan, I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your friends,” Dean

said as Ethan embraced him, kissing his eyes before ravishing his mouth.

“Can you tell me where you were tonight?” Ethan asked when they parted.

“I…I…” Dean took a deep breath. He knew Ethan wasn’t ordering him to reveal what

he’d been thinking about. But Dean knew without a doubt that Ethan knew he’d been

thinking about Iraq. “Master, I can’t,” Dean shook his head. “I’m not ready to talk about it

yet.”

Ethan nodded. “Then you will strip and allow me to take my pleasure from you.”

Dean bowed his head. Ethan was angry and disappointed, but Dean couldn’t tell him.

He wasn’t ready for it. And come Monday, it would be too much to bear if someone else

knew how weak he really was.

“Dean,” Ethan said, forcing his head up. “I’m not angry and I’m not punishing you. I

want to love you tonight. I’m not ordering nor am I going to order you tell me what you

were thinking about. I wanted to know if you wanted to. You don’t. I understand. You’ve got

the appointment with the counsellor at the clinic, and that’s a start, love. Now, strip for me.”

Dean nodded and began to remove his clothes. When he was naked, Ethan lowered him

to the mattress. He’d laughed when Ethan had insisted on bringing a thin mattress and the

sleeping bags, now he was grateful for the padding between him and the ground. They had

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unzipped both bags and laid them one on top of the other, stowing an extra blanket at the

foot and the box of lube, condoms, and wet wipes near the head of the makeshift bed.

Ethan stood and removed his clothes as Dean watched him in the dim light from the

bonfire outside. He heard the foil packet being torn and knew Ethan was sheathing himself.

Kneeling between Dean’s spread thighs, Ethan kissed him and placed his hands above his

head. Ethan moved to one of Dean’s nipples and began licking and playing with the silver

hoop. Gasping, Dean arched his back, needing more. Ethan moved to his other nipple. Dean

bit his lip to keep from crying out.

He stilled when Ethan kissed an outline on his torso. He knew what Ethan had found.

The large tattoo in the shape of a set of dog tags extended from just below his right shoulder

blade, with the chain extending to the centre of his back, and around his side to about four

inches from his navel.

“Tell me about this tattoo, love,” Ethan said between kisses, the fingers of one hand

teasing his cock and balls.

“Master, please,” Dean begged. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was begging for, but he

wasn’t sure if he wanted to answer Ethan.

“Answer me, love. Tell me about this tattoo. The one with your name on it,” Ethan

asked softly, sliding a lubed finger into Dean’s ass, lowering his head to Dean’s groin.

Dean inhaled quietly, he wanted to obey Ethan. Ethan, his Master, had promised to

look after him and to never be repulsed by anything he’d done or said. Could he deny Ethan

that simple request? Dean squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. Dean moaned as a

second finger pistoned into him.

“Go on, love,” Ethan said, his mouth enveloping the head of Dean’s cock.

“It’s called a meat tag.”

Dean’s head swam with pleasure. He hadn’t believed his body could respond so easily

to Ethan’s touch. He needed all of Ethan in him. Now. He couldn’t…didn’t want to wait.

“Master, fill me, please.”

Ethan let go of Dean’s cock and slid in a third finger. “You’re not stretched, and you

haven’t told me what a meat tag is,” Ethan reprimanded softly, removing his fingers from

Dean’s body.

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Dean whimpered. “I don’t want to be stretched any further. Let me have that bite of

pain, please, Ethan, Master.”

Ethan nodded, placed Dean’s legs around his waist, slid into Dean’s ass then stopped.

Dean bit down on his lip, relishing the physical pain and keeping the emotional pain at

bay. “The meat tag, is…is a way for them…for me to…” Dean balled his hands into fists, the

words stuck in his throat.

Ethan leant forward and kissed him. “To be identified by?”

Dean nodded, not trusting his voice.

Ethan pulled out partway before sliding back. Dean moaned and clung to the sting in

his ass. “Dog tags are…aren’t always useful. I wanted to make sure my family knew if

something happened,” Dean finished as Ethan set an easy pace, using one hand to pump

Dean’s cock, driving every thought from Dean’s mind.

Dean’s balls draw up, and he knew he was close. “May I come, Master?”

“Not yet, love,” Ethan replied not changing his hold on Dean’s cock.

Dean grunted and felt Ethan stab him deeper. His man was close.

“Now, love, now,” Ethan commanded.

Dean erupted in long, white strands. Ethan slammed home several more times before

Dean felt the telltale shudder of his lover’s—his Master’s—orgasm.

Dean protested slightly when Ethan slid out.

After Ethan cleaned them both off, he disposed of the used wet wipes and condom in a

makeshift trash bag. Dean moved so they lay between the sleeping bags, the extra blanket

covering them, and snuggled into Ethan’s arms.

“Dean, love, thank you for telling me about the tattoo. I know it wasn’t easy for you.

Thank you for that gift, for the trust. I’ll never hurt you. I promise, sweetheart.”

* * * *

“Son of a bitch! Who the hell does she think she is?” Ethan demanded, jamming his

truck into park near their campsite.

“I don’t know, man. I mean…Karen did it when she was Queen and our home faire was

North Woods. Only Dan and Sean have joined since we moved here, but they were still

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introduced at North Woods. It was the last year we were there,” Paul O’Connor, one of the

founders of the Knights of Steel said, from beside him.

“He can’t fucking kneel.”

“Then he doesn’t. His persona is that of your assistant, right? You can explain to the

Queen that he is under orders not to. He can bow instead,” Paul said beside him. “But just to

be safe, we’ll all be there. Full dress.”

Ethan nodded, seething, anger rolling through him, just out of sight. Barely. He’d been

on edge and pissed since one of Queen Isabella’s minion’s had come by the list while they

were setting up and informed them she planned on introducing the two newest members of

Knights of Steel. Yanking the keys out of the ignition, Ethan jumped out of the truck and

slammed the door shut behind him. He was not allowing Dean to be humiliated like this. He

had no idea what the bitch had planned, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. Not to Dean.

Automatically, his gaze sought out his lover. He found him, dressed in knee boots,

plain black pants and a white poet style shirt, sitting in one of their camp chairs and talking

with a couple of the women. Ethan stormed over and kissed Dean forcibly. Beside him, he

heard both women giggle and leave before Dean’s hands wound through his hair. The soft

touch centred him, helping to tamp down his temper.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked when Ethan finally released him.

“That bitch!” Ethan spat.

“Ethan, calm down,” Paul said, putting a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

Ethan nodded and knelt in front of Dean. “Kendra, the Queen, is pulling her holier-

than-thou untouchable shit again. But this time, she’s demanding that you and Jeremy be

introduced and accepted by the court at ten-thirty. Sean and I must present you.”

Dean blanched.

“I don’t agree with it, and I see no reason for her to pull this shit,” Ethan ground out.

“Everyone will be present in full armour, only the knights will have weapons. We’re

not sure what her plan is, but neither one of us likes it,” Paul finished. “Now, everyone

move, the doors open in forty-five. Sean and Jeremy stay a minute.”

Ethan heard the statements of disbelief and shock. It was evident that everyone

believed Kendra was overstepping her bounds. But, his eyes never left Dean. He knew Dean

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didn’t understand the full impact of Kendra’s demands, but Ethan also knew that Dean

would have an idea of what actions were expected of him.

“Normally,” Paul explained to Dean, Jeremy, Sean and Ethan, “all four of you would

kneel, and after the Queen says a few lines, you’d both swear fealty to the Knights of Steel,”

Paul explained after everyone left.

“Normally?” Dean asked, looking over at Ethan.

“There will be no kneeling, love. We will bow, all four of us. And we will proceed that

way,” Ethan said, running his fingers over Dean’s damaged leg.

“Works for us,” Jeremy and Sean chorused.

Ethan heard the three men leave and looked up at Dean. “You will not kneel today.”

“I think I can manage a simple kneel,” Dean ground out. “I’m not helpless.”

“No, love, you’re not. Damn it, your leg can and has given out without warning. What

happens if it gives out while you’re getting up or down? No, I won’t have you put in that

position because Queen Bitch wants to prove she’s got all the power.” Ethan shook his head.

“My orders stand, love. You will not kneel during this. You will bow.”

“But you’ll get in trouble. She threw you in jail simply because she felt like it last week,”

Dean protested.

“Am I your Master?”

“Yes.”

“Did you promise to obey me this whole weekend?”

“Yes.”

“Then you will follow my orders and bow,” Ethan said firmly then kissed both of

Dean’s palms.

“Yes, Master,” Dean ground out, his anger showing.

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Chapter Ten

Dean waited next to Ethan, in the middle of the Knights of Steel. He had to admit they

made an impressive show of force. The women stood next to their respective male

companions, with the exception of Paul’s wife, who stood next to Carla and Sean. Dean knew

he could kneel, but he’d agreed to Ethan’s request. Hopefully, it would go without a hitch

and without embarrassing anybody, but he didn’t think they’d be that lucky. The Queen

sounded as if she was out for blood from Ethan and his friends.

He’d been amazed at the reactions of the Knights of Steel. They’d made a choice to

stand together, to bow, because he couldn’t kneel. The idea made him happy and angry at

the same time. He was perfectly capable of doing most of the things his companions could

do.

The crowd had gathered to watch the proceedings of the court. Dean swallowed hard.

An overweight middle-age man stepped forward and addressed the audience after the

Queen had taken her place, welcoming everyone and stating that in a time-honoured

tradition, the Queen would receive the two newest members of Knights of Steel and hear

their oaths of fealty.

Dean waited until they were called forward. Ethan had chosen to call him Lord Ulrich

as a persona, who was in essence Lord Blackmoore’s personal assistant. He approached the

court on the right side of Ethan, who wore his sword on the left side. Jeremy was to the right

of Sean, and while they were similarly dressed, Jeremy wore an over-tunic similar to Sean’s

minus armour identifying him as a squire. All four bowed.

“What is the meaning of this? How dare you disrespect the Queen? On your knees!” the

middle aged man said, clearly outraged.

No one moved. “With your majesty’s understanding, we ask to bow as one, so as to not

single out an injured party,” Ethan stated firmly.

“On your knees!” the Queen ordered with a smile.

“Your majesty—” Sean and Ethan both objected.

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“On your knees!”

Dean saw the guards move in. It was because of him, they were in this predicament. He

was sure he could do it. His body just had to hold out for a few minutes. Then he’d go rest

and accept whatever punishment Ethan deemed necessary. He was not going to let his new

friends be disgraced in front of the whole faire.

“Forgive me, Master,” Dean whispered and slowly dropped to one knee. He knew as

soon as he was down, Ethan had been right. He wasn’t going to get back up on his own. He

bowed his head, praying his legs would hold, and watched as his companions knelt beside

him.

Satisfied, the Queen went on with her speech, in turn each of them had spoken the lines,

carefully scripted years ago. Dean responded when he had to. He ached to touch Ethan, to

apologise. He barely heard the order to rise. He grabbed his cane and tried to pull himself

up. Beside him, he knew the others had risen. Pain splintered his body. His legs gave way,

and he fell. Behind him, he heard metal clashing and clanging and curses. He heard Carla

call out first to him then to the Queen. Armoured arms picked him up. He tried to push

away, trying to stand on his own. His body refused to work. Opening his eyes, he saw Ethan,

saw armour surrounding him. Dean closed his eyes and buried himself against Ethan’s

unyielding armour.

He opened his eyes when the movement stopped. He was in the Knights of Steel tent

near their fighting area, alone with Ethan, who was removing his boots. He heard someone

call for a medic. He knew Ethan was angry, but there was more to it. He could tell by his

eyes, but for the most part Ethan was angry. He’d asked Dean to trust him, to let him take

care of the situation, but Dean hadn’t been able to let go.

“I’m sorry Ethan, Master,” Dean said, placing a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

“That cold-hearted bitch, she—”

Dean only nodded. He’d been so determined to prove he could do everything he once

could that he’d embarrassed Ethan and his friends even more.

“Holy shit!” a tall dark haired, heavy set man said as he walked into the tent.

Dean lifted his gaze to the newcomer. The shirt said medic.

“What?” Ethan asked, pulling up Dean’s pant leg.

“His sister.”

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“Carla? What’s wrong with her?” Dean demanded starting to move.

“Nothing. She’s fine. The Queen, on the other hand, is getting read the riot act. Carla is

chewing her up one side and down the other. I think a fight is about to break out. Carla

asked the patrons to believe her when she said that everyone else at the faire actually cared

about the military, police and fire-fighters then she turned around and started yelling at

Kendra. I think she’d have made some sailors blush with the things she’s said. She was one-

finger pushing Kendra across the stage when Jeremy found me.”

“What is her problem?” Dean asked, looking from the medic to Ethan as they both bent

to inspect his leg. Ethan put a pill into Dean’s hand and handed him a bottle of water he’d

taken from one of the coolers in the tent. “Thank you, Ethan.” Dean took the pill and drank

half the water.

“Nothing feels out of place. But let’s wrap it, ice and heat, stay off from it for the rest of

the day, preferably the weekend, and follow up with your doc first thing Monday,” the

medic said after he’d finished poking and prodding Dean’s leg and sending him through the

roof with pain. Dean and Ethan both nodded, and Ethan put Dean’s boots back on before

turning, sitting and pulling Dean on his lap.

Ethan kissed Dean hard, running his fingers over his body. Dean shivered with the

sensations and emotions rolling off Ethan.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t listen,” Dean said quietly. “I…I thought I could do it. But, as soon as

I got down, I knew I couldn’t back up without help. And by time I could ask you for…a

hand, it was too late, I was already going down.”

Ethan nodded, pulling him closer.

“Are you going to punish me? I mean, I belong to you this weekend?” Dean asked,

surprised at the ease with which the request and confession had slipped out.

“I ought to, but I don’t know if I will.”

Dean nodded, unsure if he was relieved or disappointed.

* * * *

“Now, sit where I put you,” Ethan said, leading Dean out to the benches around the list.

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Dean nodded and sat down on the very edge of the bleachers. The first show was about

to start, and the crowd was filling in, Dean was happy for the Knights of Steel, because he

knew they fought better where there was a big crowd. He also knew there had been an

argument over whether or not they were even going to have the shows. He’d pointed out,

that if they didn’t hold their show then the Queen would win. Patrons shouldn’t be deprived

of the fights because of what had happened. Finally, they’d agreed. They would fight today,

but tomorrow or returning next weekend or even next year were dependent on the fall out

and if Queen Isabella was allowed to stay at the faire.

Several of the women, Carla included, were sitting near him as if daring anyone to

laugh. Word had gotten all around the faire about the Queen’s actions and Carla’s tirade.

He’d found out that when he’d fallen, the knights and ladies had formed a barricade between

him and the crowd as fast as they could, shielding him until they had gotten to the fight list.

He’d thought he’d die of embarrassment. All of Ethan’s reassurances didn’t make it any

easier. He couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze anymore, not even Ethan’s. After the medic had left,

they’d stayed in the tent until most of the pain had subsided. A bench had been brought over

for him to sit on, which he’d been grateful for especially when it had been moved to the other

side of the tent, out of view.

Dean watched, pride filling his heart, as Ethan entered the arena—fight list, he

corrected himself. Good-natured ribbing and posturing took place as the rest of the crowd

settled in and the squires made one last round to make sure everything was secure. Dean had

sent water to Ethan by way of Carla, knowing that he couldn’t do it today. She made a

production of giving it to both him and Sean.

The Marshall had everyone in the list kneel first to their audience then to the one who

inspired them. Dean felt his cheeks redden when all of the knights knelt in his direction.

After greeting their adversaries, the first fighters were called out.

Ethan won most of his matches and put on a great show of being put out and offended

when he lost. At one point, he distracted the Marshall, whose back was to the fight, while one

of the squires from their side snuck up behind the fighters and hit one over the head with a

shield, before quickly running away. The stunned fighter dropped to his knees and fell to his

side twisting slightly so he ended up on his back. The other fighter immediately raised his

arms in victory. The antics continued on through out the show, until a mêlée was called.

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It would be a team fight this time instead of an individual one. Swords raised, the

combatants charged. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Dean’s attention.

Turning, he saw a little boy running full tilt into the list. Dean pushed off the bench and

jumped, pain shooting through his body as he landed on the dirt in front of the bleachers. He

reached for and missed the kid. Swearing, he jumped into the roped off arena, his body

protesting the movement. The knights fought beside him. Dean scooped the child up in his

arms and dropped to the ground at the same minute. Pain exploded through his body as one

of the knights landed on top of him.

“No!” Ethan shouted.

Time stood still. Dean was in the list. Dean was down. Paul had fallen on him. He

didn’t know why Dean was in the list. His movements were heavy and slow as he tried to

convey the situation to his friends. An eternity passed before the fighting stopped.

“Hold!” The list Marshall and several others shouted.

Weapons thudded to the dirt.

“Medic!”

Ethan swore. He saw the women move down the bleachers towards Dean. He quickly

made his way over to the pile of people. Somewhere nearby, a woman was shrieking. He

helped them pull Paul off Dean.

“Squire!” Ethan bellowed, tearing at his helmet. He couldn’t see what was going on.

He felt the tugging of straps as his helmet and gauntlets were removed. Tearing off his

gloves, he reached for Dean.

“Ethan! Stop! Ethan! We need to move him carefully,” Sean warned.

“Come here, sweetie,” Carla cooed, squatting down on the other side of Dean and

motioning with her hand.

“Holy shit!” Sean yelled from behind him.

“A kid! How the hell did that happen?” one of the others asked.

Ethan stared dumbfounded, as little boy, no more than three, crawled out from under

Dean’s body and into Carla’s arms. His man had drawn himself around the boy, protecting

him. Ethan’s heart swelled with pride and love. He knelt beside Dean, grazed his cheek with

his fingers before he kissed it then told him the boy was safe, that he’d protected him.

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“Help me,” Dean whispered.

“I will,” Ethan replied, reaching for his hand. “Paul, have someone take care of the

crowd. We were done anyway.”

“Lord Blackmoore,” one of the medics said. “Ethan, we need to bring a backboard in

here. An ambulance will meet us at the med tent. You’ll want to remove his necklace.”

Ethan nodded. He needed out of his armour. He turned, looking for his squire. Dean

tugged on his hand. One handed, Ethan undid the necklace, palming it.

“Don’t let go.”

Ethan stopped. The words were forced out through clenched teeth. The adrenaline that

had allowed his lover to force his body beyond its limits was being replaced by pain. “Do

you want something to bite down on, love?”

Dean nodded, his eyes wide, tears pooling.

“I have something.” The medic turned and dug in his bag, producing a rolled up ace

bandage.

“Open up love,” Ethan said gently. “Bite on this.”

Dean obeyed and screamed into the bandage.

Ethan’s heart stopped and shattered. He’d failed to protect the man he loved. He was

the Master, and he’d failed. And Dean paid for it.

* * * *

Ethan paced in the small room Dean had been given on his arrival. Carla sat in one of

the chairs in the corner, her knees drawn up. He shouldn’t have made Dean sit there,

shouldn’t have forced him to go to the sham of a court that morning. Ethan knew their

parents were on the way. They’d been called as soon as it was decided that Dean needed the

hospital. The medics were concerned about spinal injuries as well as possibly re-injuring of

his older wounds.

Ethan cursed again. He’d promised to protect Dean and he’d failed him. Twice.

The curtain moved, and Ethan looked up to see the physician assistant they’d first seen,

standing there.

“How is he?” Ethan asked, grasping the remaining threads of his self control.

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“There’s no spinal damage.”

“Thank God,” Carla said, squeezing his hand. He hadn’t realised she’d moved.

“He dislocated his shoulder, but in the process several muscles were torn. He’s been

taken to surgery to repair those. There is no telling how much of a recovery he’ll make.”

“He’s tough. He’ll recover,” Carla said confidently.

“He shouldn’t have been there,” Ethan bit out. “I shouldn’t have pushed him like that.”

“Pushed? I understood he jumped down the bleachers and over a rope.”

Carla nodded. “I think he saw the kid and knew what was going to happen. He reacted

on instinct and training. He’s a Marine.”

“A hero,” the doctor said. “You can see him when he’s out of surgery. You should be

able to bring him home in the next day or two. There’s a surgery waiting room on the second

floor. They’ll look for you there.”

Ethan nodded and followed Carla through the maze of corridors and elevators to the

surgery waiting room. Numb, he listened to Carla make several phone calls, and found out

Dean’s parents would be there in about three hours. Time passed, and he alternated between

pacing and sitting. By the time the surgeon finally came back in and allowed them to see

Dean, Ethan thought he was going to lose his mind. He needed Dean with him, to know that

the man he loved was safe.

* * * *

Ethan pulled the truck into his driveway and looked over at a sleeping Dean. Over the

past week and a half, he and Carla had argued over where Dean would go after he was

released from the hospital. In the end, Ethan had won, with the concession that both Carla

and Dean’s mother would look in on him during the day. He’d called Marc and Caleb, and

both had agreed that with Tanner in charge of the pub and Julian in charge of the brewery,

they could rotate on-call shifts and deal with money in the mornings. Eventually, they might

hand that over to Tanner, as well. He’d also arranged to have his mornings off for the next

week.

“Hey, love, we’re home,” Ethan said, running his fingers along Dean’s cheek.

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He’d learned that was the best and safest way to wake his lover. He heard Carla and

her parents pull in behind them. They had followed them home to help Dean get settled

before leaving for the night.

“Home?” Dean asked, his eyes popping open.

“Stay put. I’ll come around and help you.”

Dean nodded. He’d been quiet and sullen since he’d woken up in the hospital.

Ethan clenched his fists, grabbed his keys, and got out of the truck. He took a deep

breath before going around and to Dean’s side. Carla took the keys from his hand and started

for the front door. Careful to avoid the sling holding Dean’s arm, Ethan picked Dean up and

carried him into the house. He set him down in the easy chair in the living room then went to

retrieve a blanket and a glass of water.

“I expected you to have more stuff. Carla said you two were at the faire,” Dean’s mom

said, handing Ethan a plastic bag containing Dean’s prescription and some groceries. Ethan

noticed that Carla and Dean’s dad brought in two bags from their car, taking them straight

into the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I know Dean can’t cook, and you’ll be busy, so

you have meals for a couple of weeks. I’ll leave instructions, but really all you’ll need to do is

take it from the freezer and stick it in the oven.”

Ethan nodded. He couldn’t remember anyone caring for him like Dean’s parents were.

His mother had certainly never bothered to make sure there was enough food in the house,

let alone for a couple of weeks. “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson,” he choked out.

“Nonsense,” the greying, middle aged woman said, taking the blanket and tucking it in

around Dean.

“Nancy, it’s getting late. We need to head home and leave the boys be. Dean is in

capable hands,” Dean’s father, Greg Hudson said, pulling the older woman away.

“It’s just—”

They said their goodbyes, and Ethan helped Dean’s father get his mother to the car.

Nobody wanted to be reminded of the last time Dean had been in the hospital and how

they’d almost lost him. Nobody blamed Ethan, except himself. If he’d done just one thing

differently then Dean wouldn’t have been hurt or humiliated. Ethan watched them pull out

of the driveway, turned and punched the wall.

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“Well, that’ll bring down the resale value of the house,” Carla quipped, hugging both

men before leaving the house.

“Ethan?” Dean called out. “Damn it, I can’t get over there.”

Ethan raced over to Dean’s side, took his free hand, and ran his other hand over Dean’s

head. “What is it, love? What do you need?”

“For you to stop beating yourself up over this. You’re the only who blames you. It was

an accident.”

Ethan shook his head. “If I hadn’t made you go to that stupid ceremony or sit in the

bleachers instead of letting you sit in the tent where you’d wanted—”

“The boy would’ve been crushed,” Dean finished. “I’m sorry I disobeyed you, but I

wasn’t sure anyone else noticed the kid. And when I saw him go for the list, I reacted. It

didn’t hurt until the adrenaline wore off.”

Ethan picked Dean up and moved them both to the couch, where he could hold Dean.

Folding Dean into his embrace, Ethan leant back, running his fingers over Dean’s arms and

reassuring himself that Dean was still there. For several horrifying moments, he’d thought

he’d lost Dean forever. He could’ve cost Dean his life, and had definitely set back his

recovery by several months. Ethan tried to take a calming breath, he was supposed to have

protected Dean. Cared for him. Loved him. He hadn’t stopped Isabella from making a fool

out of Dean or Paul from falling on him. Hell, he hadn’t even been able to keep Dean out of

the fight list.

Dean made himself comfortable against his body and fell asleep. Ethan stroked his head

and body and wondered how he could make things right again. He drifted off to sleep before

he could find an answer.

* * * *

“I’m not going to the restaurant tonight,” Dean said, watching Ethan from the doorway.

“What?” Ethan asked, walking into the guest room that had become Dean’s. “We talked

about it. I thought you were okay it. You were looking forward to it last night, or seemed to

be.”

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Dean had slept in bed with Ethan the first night home from the hospital, but Ethan had

kept his distance, touching him rarely. The next day, Dean hadn’t been able to look at Ethan.

He’d moved into the guest room that day. He’d brought it up, hoping Ethan would disagree,

demand he stay with him, touch him or even make love to him. He hadn’t. He’d agreed. It

was probably for the best. Dean was beginning to think Ethan was right.

Obedience, that’s all Ethan had asked for. Two days, where he was completely Ethan’s,

trusting that Ethan wouldn’t hurt him or let anything happen to him. Dean had disobeyed.

He couldn’t be sure that Ethan would protect him, would watch his ass. His buddies from

the Corps, they would, he knew that, but Ethan, Ethan he didn’t know.

Time had drifted by. Dean thought he’d heard Ethan say it’d been three weeks, but he

wasn’t sure if that was since he’d been injured in the fight list or if it was since they’d known

each other. The new injuries had made therapy impossible, and he was still unable to make

further than the bathroom without his leg giving way. The faire was impossible, not to

mention he’d have to see the Knights of Steel there, and he didn’t want that embarrassment.

Carla had taken great joy in telling him how on Sunday the faire owner, dressed as the Pope,

had banished Queen Isabella and installed Tom’s wife, Karen, as Queen Arianna of the faire.

“I changed my mind. I’m not going. I called Carla while you were at work. She’ll be

here in a couple of hours,” Dean said firmly.

He didn’t tell Ethan he’d had to beg her to come and get him. He couldn’t stand being

in the same house with the man he had fallen in love with yet couldn’t touch or see. That he

couldn’t clear the fog from his brain most of the time. He didn’t tell him how little he actually

slept, afraid the nightmares would return since Ethan wasn’t there to hold him.

He was a Marine. He had to push through it.

But he’d never be normal. His scarred, weak body would never be normal. A task as

simple as kneeling was probably a year out of reach, at least. And that was if he worked full

tilt at it, and his body allowed it. He was a lousy submissive. It wasn’t in his make-up, even

though when he thought of Ethan as his loving master, he was freer than he’d ever been.

“Then I’ll get your things packed and have them ready when she gets here. I’ll wait

until after you’ve left to leave for the faire tonight. It’ll feel good get back into the arena

tomorrow. I hope you get the help you need. If not from the VA then from somewhere,”

Ethan said standing in the middle of the room, arms folded across his chest, his legs shoulder

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width apart. He looked every inch the Master. Anger and something else, disappointment or

relief, rolled off him.

“I don’t need help. Not yours, not anyone’s,” Dean yelled. He’d survived worse. He’d

make a full recovery. He knew he could, if he pushed himself hard enough. Ethan would be

glad when he was gone. There would be no one to look after or to hold Ethan back. He could

go to every faire there was without having to worry about anybody.

“Fine, delude yourself all you want. If you do, maybe you’ll find someone that can give

you what you need. Heaven knows you’ll never be a submissive,” Ethan said, his voice

steeled.

“I don’t want to be submissive, someone’s property, unable to make my own

decisions.”

“No, you don’t want to be submissive, because it requires you trust someone outside

your unit or your family for a fucking change,” Ethan bit out. “Since I didn’t collar you, there

is no formal release to deal with. At least, I didn’t make the mistake of claiming you.”

Ethan turned and left the room.

Dean opened and closed his mouth. Ethan had thought about collaring him. Obviously,

Ethan agreed with him. He wasn’t a submissive. He wasn’t loveable. He’d certainly never

told Dean he loved him. He’d taken the chain back sometime before Dean had woken up in

the hospital and had never given back.

Dean was fuckable, but not loveable. He fell back into the bed.

“Carla’s here,” Ethan said, returning a short time later.

Dean nodded.

“Can you make it down the stairs?”

He thought about it, swallowed his pride and shook his head. If he made to the car,

now, he wasn’t going to make it to his room later. Gently, Ethan picked him up and carried

him downstairs and into Carla’s waiting car. Dean watched in the mirror as Ethan retrieved

his bags and tossed them in the trunk before talking to Carla. He winced when Ethan and

Carla hugged. The smiled on Ethan’s face as he waved told him all Dean needed to know.

Ethan neither wanted him nor cared for him.

Dean blinked hard, trying to keep the tears from welling up.

Ethan had lied to him. The whole thing had been a lie.

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Chapter Eleven

“Mr. Moreland, there is a Mr. Hudson here to see you.”

Ethan’s heart leapt at his secretary’s announcement. He hated the paperwork that went

with owning a business, and lately, he’d been spending more time at his desk than out in the

brewery or in the pub. Today though, Dean was here. Ethan smiled. The last month had been

hell. He’d been miserable, lonely and missing Dean. But Dean had said no, and Ethan had to

respect his wishes.

“Send him in,” Ethan ordered, jumping to his feet. Thousands of questions ran through

his mind.

“Do you love my son?” a slightly familiar, gruff male voice asked as the door closed

behind him.

“Excuse me?” Disappointment coursed through him. It wasn’t Dean. He recognised the

man standing in front of him. Greg Hudson. The older, well dressed man shared the same

eye and hair colour as Dean, as well as the same lithe frame.

“Meeting you here is not a lot better than meeting you at the hospital, but I want to

know if you love my son?”

“With all my heart,” Ethan answered truthfully, sitting back down in his chair.

“Then why aren’t you with him? Why is he drunk over at his sister’s place?”

Ethan leant forward. “I…he…he doesn’t want—”

“Listen to me,” Mr. Hudson said, sitting down in the chair across from him. “You need

to be patient with him. Help him through the hell that he is facing—the nightmares, the

depression, the problems with crowds and noises, the guilt.”

“The guilt?” How did Dean’s father know about the problems Dean was having?

“The guilt of surviving when his brothers-in-arms didn’t. Without my wife I’d have

been dead years ago. She rode out every storm and battle with me. She let me cry when I

needed to and cried for me when I couldn’t. Dean needs that. Now. From you. It takes an

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incredible amount of strength to love one of the walking wounded and even more staying

power. I want to know if you love Dean enough to stick?”

“I—”

“It won’t be easy, but—”

“But it will be worth it,” Ethan finished, standing. “I love Dean with all my heart, Mr.

Hudson.”

“Then I think you’re in the wrong place right now, son,” Mr. Hudson said, turned and

left.

Ethan stared dumbfounded at the open door then grabbed his keys and phone, called

out to his secretary that he was leaving for the day and left.

He made it from the office to Carla’s in about twenty minutes. He pulled into the

driveway of the older ranch-style house and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The

month since Dean had left his house and life had been one of the longest ever. He’d gone to

the club, looked for a submissive to play with or at least a bottom to fuck and found himself

going home alone to steal glances at the red Marine Corps T-shirt he’d hidden in his dresser

amongst his socks and underwear. It was the one Dean had worn when they’d first met.

He glanced down at the envelope beside him. He’d drop off the letter, see that Dean

was better and leave. Maybe he should’ve sent it. Movement at the window forced the idea

out of his head. He’d been seen. Sighing, he grabbed the letter and got out of the truck

“Is he here?” he asked when the door opened.

Carla nodded. “In his room. You can find it by the smell.”

“Where are the kids?” Ethan asked, noticing the overflowing bin of beer bottles and

scowling. “Smugglers’ Cove Moon Rise Pale Ale, that’s not what you drink.”

“It’s what he drinks,” Carla said, pointing down the hall. “Kids are at my parents. I

thought it was best.”

“Since when?” Ethan asked dumbfounded. “All of these bottles are just his?”

She nodded. “The first night back he had a nightmare that woke us all up. I wanted to

call you, but he wouldn’t let me. He cancelled his counselling appointments. He drinks until

he passes out. The doctor’s ready to have him start therapy again, but we haven’t been able

to get him a car yet. And he sold his motorcycle to a cousin. Why did you come over?”

“Your father came to see me.”

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“My father?”

Ethan nodded. “Yes, he’s a smart man. Gave me a good kick in the ass. Will he see me?”

“Can he stop you? Aren’t you his Master?”

“Yes, he can. I’m not his Master, but I’d like to be. Even if I was, though, I can’t go any

further than his limits. You know this.”

Carla nodded and cocked her head, her hands on her hips. “You love him.”

Ethan nodded.

“Take him home with you,” Carla said heading for the living room.

Ethan made his way down the hallway, to the last door on the right and opened the

door to Dean’s room slowly and saw his love, surrounded by mementos from his time in the

Marine Corps and beer bottles. Carefully, he picked his way to the bed and sat on the edge.

Gently, he ran his fingers over Dean’s cheek.

“Wake up, love.”

Dean’s eyes popped open. Automatically, he looked around, trying to find his bearings.

Ethan. Ethan had been in his dreams. Dean shook his head. Ethan was sitting next to him,

had woken him like he always did. He always woke up easier, less anxious when Ethan was

around.

“M—Ethan, what are you doing here?” Dean asked, relieved he hadn’t called him

Master. Ethan hadn’t wanted him as submissive. And Dean hadn’t realised what he’d

wanted until he was left with no choice or options. He loved Ethan, had wanted to be his, to

belong with him. To him.

“To see you,” Ethan said firmly. “A letter arrived for you from the university.”

Dean’s mind raced. Why would he get a letter from a university? The application! He’d

remembered now. He hadn’t heard anything and had assumed he hadn’t been accepted. “I

filled it out while I was at your place. I thought I’d hear from them sooner, so I put your

address on it. I should’ve asked.”

“Do you want to know what it says?”

Pressure from his bladder distracted him from Ethan’s hand on his arm. Dean nodded.

“Yes, but, uh, can you help me to the bathroom first?”

“Where’s your cane?”

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“Over there, I think.” He had thrown his cane across the room last night, in a fit of

anger.

Ethan nodded and stood. Instead of looking for the cane, he lifted Dean and carried him

into the bathroom. “You’ve lost weight. When is the last time you ate or showered?” Dean

shrugged, not protesting. He couldn’t remember what day it was let alone if he’d had

anything to eat. As for bathing, Carla brought in a tub of water and washcloth once in a

while so he could clean up. “Can you leave me for a minute? I’ll call when I’m done.”

Ethan shook his head. “No. You’re not taking care of yourself. At least—”

“Don’t blame Carla,” Dean shot out. His sister had tried. He just couldn’t do anything

about it. “You need to put me down.”

Ethan started to lower his legs.

“Just set me on the toilet seat. My leg isn’t strong enough to support me yet,” Dean said,

hoping Ethan wouldn’t catch on to the fact that his body refused to work or to the near

constant pain he was in.

“How long has that been going on?”

“Can you put me down?” Dean asked again.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have helped you. I can’t read your mind,” Ethan squeezed

him tighter. Ethan lowered his legs, pushed down his shorts and sat him on the toilet.

“It’s embarrassing, okay?” Dean ground out, staring at the floor. “What do you want

me to say? Um, excuse me Master, but can you help me pee? I’m a Marine. I’m not used to

relying on other people. I hate being dependent and useless. So fucking weak I can’t do

anything by myself. I can’t be a Marine, especially since they retired me. I can’t do anything

physical. I can’t ride my motorcycle anymore!” Dean yelled. “I could run miles carrying a

sixty pound pack wherever the hell I needed to. We searched for hours to clear out

insurgents. I lived on fear and adrenaline, and now I’m supposed to accept being this

helpless. This weak?” Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked. “Why can’t I be normal?

Why me? Why any of us? But, why? Why couldn’t I be normal? None of this would have

happened if I okay. If I was normal.”

Dean buried his head in Ethan’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Ethan rubbed his back.

He noticed they were on the floor and wondered briefly how they had gotten there.

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“Everything happens for a reason. If you hadn’t gone through what you did, you and I

wouldn’t be able to be together, to have the future we will. You may not be able to do the

same things you used to, but that doesn’t make you any less of a man or a Marine. There is

more to life than physical strength, love. There is internal strength and character. There is

heart strength, which is more important,” Ethan said, shifting under him. “Let’s get you

cleaned up and take you home.”

“I…I don’t understand,” Dean said, blowing his nose on the toilet paper Ethan handed

him.

“You know, I could think of a hundred different ways to tell you this,” Ethan began.

“I’m sure all of them involve chains,” Dean interrupted remembering the dream Ethan

had woken him from.

“Most,” Ethan nodded. “I love you. I—”

“You love me?” Dean asked, scrubbing a hand over his face. Ethan loved him?

Ethan nodded.

“I didn’t… You wouldn’t touch me, wouldn’t sleep with me and barely look at me.

Why?” Dean asked, shock and disbelief coursed through him.

“Partly because you kept pulling away, but mostly, because I still blamed myself. I

looked at you and saw Paul falling on you and the pain you were in all over again. I failed to

protect you. I promised you I would, but I failed.”

“We talked about this. It wasn’t your fault.” Dean squeezed Ethan’s hand tight.

“We talked about it, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I failed.”

“And now?”

“I was shown the error of my thinking at the last Knights of Steel practice.”

“Oh?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“We talked about what happened and what they knew that I didn’t. Then they gave me

a card that the parents of that kid had given them to give you. The family had come back on

Sunday looking for us, but since neither one of us were there, they gave it to Paul. Seems the

boy, Tyler, is their only child and deaf. He wanted to see the knights so bad, he took off, and

they couldn’t catch him. As sorry as they were that you were hurt, they wanted to thank you

for protecting their son. “

“I didn’t even call out. I just reacted.”

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“I know, love, and because you did, he’s safe. Most people would’ve called out then

reacted,” Ethan replied, tightening his grip. “I love you. I want you. For myself. I want you to

be with me.”

“To belong to you?”

“I won’t lie and say that isn’t what I’d prefer, but I can work around that. I love you. I

want you in my life. The past month has been a horrible nightmare of loneliness where I’ve

thought of little else than you. It’s you I want.”

“Would you collar someone else?” Dean asked, trying to process what Ethan was

saying.

Ethan shook his head. “You’re the only one I’ve thought of collaring. If I don’t collar

you, I won’t collar anyone else, but I will need to play, non-sexually, with the submissives at

a club I go to.”

“What if I don’t want you to play with other subs?” Dean asked, inhaling deeply. Ethan

loved him. He knew he loved Ethan, and Dean needed to try to be the sub they both thought

he could be.

“Dean, I don’t know if I can do that,” Ethan said hesitantly.

“Ethan, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, hell I can’t do anything right now. I sleep only when

you hold me or I’m too drunk to remember anything. I love you. I didn’t realise it until the

accident in the fight list. But I know how big of a part BDSM is in your life, and I thought that

I’d never be able to do that. It’s going to take time, but I want to belong to you. To do some of

things I have seen on the internet. But I come with a lot of baggage, and I don’t know if I’ll

ever be free from the nightmares.”

“We’ll get through them together, pet,” Ethan said, stroking his back. “What about the

faire and the Knights of Steel? Can you accept that part of my life?”

“I’ve thought about it, I don’t know if I can go all of the time—there are just too many

people—but your friends readily accepted me, defended me even when I embarrassed them.

They accept me and us. I want to try.”

“That’s all I’ll ever ask, pet,” Ethan replied, kissing his temple. “But you’re taking a bath

before we leave. You will start counselling again, and you need to talk to me before it gets

this bad.”

Dean nodded. “I love you, Master Ethan.”

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“I love you, too, pet,” Ethan said, lifting Dean and setting him back on the toilet. Dean

watched Ethan run a bath, grabbing towels, shaving cream and a razor. “Um, Master, why

did you call me pet?”

“Because, pet, you belong to me now, whereas before you didn’t.”

* * * *

“Come with me, pet,” Ethan ordered as they walked into Ethan’s house.

Dean smiled and nodded. “Yes, Master.”

They had spent the better part of the day clearing out Dean’s room, moving some things

over to Ethan’s, throwing some out, setting some aside for the Carla’s boys for later, and

helping her set the small room up as a craft room. She’d been thrilled when Ethan had told

her Dean was going home with him and wished them all the happiness they could ever

want. She smiled then hugged them both after Dean had called Ethan ‘Master’ in front of her.

Once inside his house, Ethan led them down the hallway and stopped outside a closet

door.

“Take off your clothes then close your eyes, pet,” Ethan ordered.

Dean hesitated for a moment, began to strip out of his clothes, accepting Ethan’s help

and piling them in a corner then closed his eyes. He felt Ethan grab his elbow and steer him

inside a room. A hard wooden object touched his knees. One of Ethan’s hands pressed down

his shoulder. Dean swallowed and sat. His back rested against wooden slats, and the back of

the part of the seat sloped down to meet the seat, however centre of the seat was missing,

and his cock and balls hung down. Ethan laid his cane across his lap, and squatted between

his legs. He heard the clink of metal moments before the seat moved, and his legs were

spread.

“Open your eyes, pet.”

Dean opened his eyes and gasped. He was inside a fully furnished dungeon. He

recognised some things from photos he’d seen on the internet while trying to figure out what

he was getting himself into.

“I never knew.”

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“You weren’t meant to. This is my private dungeon. There is a mate to this chair in my

office, where you will sit to do your homework or anything else I ask. And in that, too, you

will be naked. I don’t allow my slaves to wear clothes in the dungeon unless I tell them so.

This chair, with your hands on your knees is where you will wait for me, when I tell you to

go into the dungeon,” Ethan told him.

Slivers of anticipation danced through Dean’s body. His cock hardened. He was being

given rules, things taken out of his control, but he knew Ethan loved him and would never

hurt him intentionally. He found himself nodding and agreeing.

“Dean, think carefully before you answer. I won’t love you any less, all right?”

Dean nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ethan, I understand.”

“Dean, will you, of your own free will, consent and agree to wear my collar? To belong

to me, knowing and trusting that I will always protect and care for you?” Ethan asked

formally, withdrawing a length of silver chain, from his pocket. “Once I lock it on, you can’t

take it off.”

“Yes, Master Ethan, I want nothing more than to belong to you,” Dean replied, trying to

keep the elation from his voice.

Ethan nodded, placed the chain around Dean’s neck and locked it into place. Dean

smiled at the weight.

“Thank you, pet, for trusting me,” Ethan said, lifting him from the chair and carrying

him over to the bed.

“Master, do we still have to use condoms?” Dean asked hesitantly. “They did an HIV

test in the hospital. I’m negative. I mean…I—”

Ethan silenced him with a kiss. “So, am I. I wanted you to belong to me first though. On

your hands and knees.”

He buckled cuffs around Dean’s wrists and locked them to the slats in the headboard.

Dean felt a twinge of panic rise, but he pushed it down. He was with Ethan and nothing bad

would happen, nothing that he didn’t want or couldn’t handle. Cuffs were fastened around

his ankles and were attached to a large bar keeping his legs apart. A chain was connected to

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his nipple rings and tugged. A leather collar was buckled around his neck and the nipple

chain attached to it, constantly pulling the rings.

Dean’s cock ached for release as his Master’s fingers stretched his hole. Ethan took his

time, stretching him, teasing his nipples and balls, before slowly sliding his cock all the way

in. Dean moaned, wanting more. He hadn’t realised how good it would feel to be skin to

skin. It was addicting.

“You feel so good, pet. So tight,” Ethan said, his nimble fingers playing with Dean’s

cock. “I want to mark you, pet.”

“You’re my Master.”

“True, but I want to put a permanent mark on you—two of them.”

“Can I ask what and why?” Dean asked as Ethan stopped all movement.

“A tiger, on your left hip, near your pelvis, and a Prince Albert piercing,” Ethan said

drawing a line on Dean’s skin with a finger where he meant.

“A tiger like yours?”

Ethan nodded.

Dean smiled. The idea of getting his cock pierced scared the hell out of him, but he

wanted to wear Ethan’s marks. “I would like that, Master.”

Ethan moved again, thrusting in and out, bringing Dean to the brink repeatedly before

sending them both over the edge. Dean came hard, shooting his load over his chest and

abdomen. Ethan slammed into, burying himself deep. Dean’s ass clenched, welcoming

Ethan’s essence into his body.

“You make me proud, pet.”

“Thank you, Master.”

* * * *

Dean stared at the pile of books that sat on the desk they had placed in Ethan’s office for

him. He scanned his email, catching up with his buddies, who were due back from their

latest rotation in October. Both of his tattoos had healed—the tiger reminding him he

belonged to Ethan and his unit’s emblem below the boots, rifle, and helmet in remembrance

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of his brothers in arms. He’d nearly cried when Ethan had told him to get something to

remember them by.

He shifted in the seat, the bell Ethan had attached to the ring in his cock tinkling.

Months ago, the bell and being naked would’ve embarrassed him, and while there were still

times he wasn’t sure, it reminded him that Ethan belonged to him as much as he belonged to

Ethan. That he was loved.

Ethan had taken the morning off from work and taken him to the university campus to

get his books, to see the counsellor at disability services and the military advocate before

dropping him off at home. Ethan had teased his cock enough to make him hard, and then

had attached the bell, saying that way he’d be able to hear him, that he enjoyed the sounds

bells made when they were attached to Dean. He’d left the bell attached when he’d returned

to work, so that Dean would constantly think about him.

Since Ethan had collared him, Dean had grown used to the chair that allowed Ethan

access to his body whenever he chose. He’d also learned to cook several meals and had

started to open up about what happened over in the desert. Physical therapy was still three

days a week, but he was getting stronger and had regained some movement in his shoulder.

Tonight, he had a surprise for Ethan.

Dean smiled when he heard Ethan’s truck pull into the driveway. It was still hard to

believe that he, a decorated Marine, had found happiness and contentment in submission, at

the feet of a knight. His knight. His Master. He grabbed his cane and walked into the living

room, taking a seat on the couch. As he hoped, Ethan walked in through the kitchen and sat

down next to him on the couch. Dean opened for Ethan’s probing tongue, before slowly

extracting himself and lowering himself to his knees between Ethan’s legs.

“Pet, what are you doing?” Ethan asked urgently, tugging at his arm.

“I’ve been practicing kneeling during therapy. Allow me this pleasure, Master, my

knight of pleasure,” Dean implored, staring up at Ethan. His heart melted. He’d never been

happier. “I promise to ask for your help up when I’m done.”

“Very well, pet,” Ethan said, running a hand over Dean’s head.

Dean reconfirmed his desire and willingness to belong to Ethan, laying his head against

the thigh of the man he’d come to love, desire and need, the man who’d shown him that

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belonging to another had given him the freedom to be himself, to feel and love without

restraint.

“I love you, Master.”

About the Author

Simone lives in West Michigan with her family. She has been writing all of her life,
seriously in the past few years, when her writing took on a dark and delicious twist.
A college student, she offsets the tedium of lectures by thinking up new and
interesting ways to torture her characters, occasionally shrieking in the middle of class
“I got it!” to the puzzlement of those around her.

Email:

[e-mail]

Simone loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and
author biography at

http://www.total-e-bound.com

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