VELVET GLOVE:
VOLUME FIVE
Sean Michael
THE VELVET GLOVE: VOLUME FIVE
Sean Michael
Torquere Press
Copyright © 2009 by Sean Michael
First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2009
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Three to Heal
Chapter One: Jean Is Introduced to Richard and Noel
Kestrel was a man on a mission.
Well, okay, he was a man on a mission twenty seven thousand times a day, but this was
an important mission.
Possibly the most important mission he’d had in at least an hour.
Maybe two.
Mal had met him for lunch and told him their sweet Jean was sad. And, honestly? If Mal
noticed? Jean wasn’t sad. Jean was devastated. After all, Kestrel loved Mal dearly, but sensitive?
Uh. No.
Not really.
No.
So, the mission? Jean needed a friend.
Kestrel looked over the crowd, tapping his foot. Friend for Jean. Come on, someone. He
needed a friend for a big, scarred, scared, stiff, growly, not-sub.
That Mal liked.
Jim caught his eye, his lover smiling at someone at the bar and handing over a pair of
drinks. It was the little slave the new Top moving into one of the 26th floor apartments had
brought with him. Noel, that was the Top’s name and the little sub was … Richard. Sweet, but
quiet.
Sweet was good.
And no one said friend meant sex.
No one but Mal.
And Des.
Possibly Hawk.
Kestrel hurried down – and if he happened to pick friends for Jean that were standing
close to his Jim-Love? No one would know.
“Richard! Noel! How are you both?”
“Ah, Kestrel, you really do take a personal interest in the club’s guests.” Noel gave him a
smile. “We’re settling in nicely, thank you.”
Behind Richard, Jim smiled at him.
He blushed and nodded at Jim, then focused on his job. “I was wondering if you might
have an empty seat at your dinner table this evening. We have a fairly new guest who had a
dinner appointment scheduled with Malachi, but Mal was called away.”
Away upstairs.
Herc had the weirdest timing.
And didn’t Jim look lovely in blue …
He should buy blue sheets.
“Certainly, Kestrel.” Noel gave him a grin and a wink. “Of course then you’ll owe me
one.”
“Oh, excellent! Jean is a dear man and I really would like to see him more involved.” Kes
shook Noel’s hand, then Richard’s. “You look happy. Are you enjoying the Club?”
Richard smiled up at him and nodded, hand reaching up to stroke his hair.
“He’s fascinated by your hair,” murmured Noel.
He chuckled, shaking it down into Richard’s hands before tossing it back up. “I’ve been
told it’s my crowning beauty. Where should I have Jean meet you?”
Richard’s face lit up, hands stroking his hair so gently.
“We were planning to dine down here tonight,” Noel told him.
“Oh. Well, could I interest you in one of the quieter dining rooms? Jean is … rather
introverted and rarely comes to the main floor.” Well, if rarely equaled never ever.
“Certainly, Kestrel. I could even be convinced to have him in our quarters.”
Richard leaned against Noel, watching him and Noel talk.
Kestrel tapped on his commlink. “I’ve reserved room 226-A all evening and will have
Jean meet you there. Do you have any food preferences? I’ll have Moffat whip you up something
special.”
“I like spicy, Richard likes ice cream for dessert. Were you that sure of me, Kestrel?”
Kestrel smiled. “I was sure someone would take pity on me, Noel darling. I’m just glad
my first choice was the right one.”
“Flatterer. You’re very good at your job.”
Noel grinned at him and turned to Richard. “Bring our drinks, we’ve a new friend to
meet.”
Kestrel beamed at Noel, then Richard, then his own, dear Jim-love. “I’ll send Jean. I …”
Another emergency call came through. “Have a fabulous meal. Ice cream and spicy.”
Ice cream. Spicy. Blue sheets. Jean. Granulian brandy. Neon lights repaired on the third
floor.
Yep. On a mission.
* * * * *
He wasn’t interested in dinner. He was perfectly happy in the weight room, doing reps,
working out.
He was even less interested in having Kestrel pout and Mal bitch incessantly, though, so
he took a shower, dressed, put on his glasses and headed to the second floor.
At least they weren’t meeting on the main floor where all the gawkers were. He hated the
stares, the way people watched him.
Hated it.
Jean checked his commlink and verified the room, then went. Dinner, polite chit chat, and
then he was done and neither Kes or Mal could complain.
The door was opened by a young man with a sweet face. The boy bowed to him and held
the door open, ushering him in.
He nodded to the boy, moving slowly and steadily towards the table, dark glasses
clicking and flashing, adjusting to the low light and assisting his eyes. “Hello. I’m Jean.”
The man at the table stood and held out a hand. “Hello Jean, I’m Noel, it’s nice to meet
you.” Noel was handsome and smooth, well-dressed. “This is Richard.”
The young man smiled at him and took his other hand, shaking softly.
“Thank you for the dinner invitation.” He nodded, offering them a half-grin, scars
pulling. “Kestrel can be very persuasive.”
“So I’m discovering. Richard and I are new here, but he made us very welcome.” Noel
pointed to a chair, obviously waiting for him to sit.
“He is exceedingly good at that, too.” He settled, looking around the room with its aqua
decorations, a vid of an unspoiled beach playing against one wall.
Richard sat after Noel did, blue eyes shinning at him. The boy was beautiful, happy,
laughing. Lovely. Leaning forward, Richard reached up, fingers hovering near his scars.
“He wonders what happened,” Noel asked, voice soft and deep.
“I was in a ship fire. There was a bomb in the cargo area.” He turned his eyes toward
Richard. “Are you mute?”
Richard shook his head, smiling shyly at him.
“He doesn’t speak much. He never has.”
“Oh.” He nodded, offering the pretty one another half smile. “There’s stuff to be said for
quiet.”
Oh, Richard like that, just beaming at him.
Noel chuckled. “Yes, indeed there is.”
Jean didn’t know what to say next, so he went with the tried and true. “Have you been
here at the club long?”
“Just a couple of days. I’ve transferred in from Seria. How about you?”
“A little less than a season. After the critmedunit let me go.” Mal had brought him here,
Mal and Kes.
Richard shifted his chair a little closer, fingers gently stroking the back of his hand.
“What did you do before the fire?” Noel asked him.
“I was a mechanic on the big interplanet freighters. Fixed the engines, the insides.” He’d
loved it too. Could have done it forever. “What do you do?”
“I design ads – you know those big billboards you see everywhere? Most of them are
mine.”
Their meal was brought then, the club’s waiters quiet and efficient.
Interesting. He carefully unwrapped his silverware, blessing Kestrel silently as he found
oversized flatware waiting for him. “Sounds like fun.”
“Some days. It’s a job. Oh, this smells good.”
Richard nodded, eagerly digging in.
The food was spicy, warm, but not overly so, and he enjoyed it, the conversation stilling
as they fed. Every now and then Noel would feed Richard a bite of something, their movements
easy and sensual together. He watched them with a touch of quiet envy, but also pleasure.
When the dessert course came, Richard was practically bouncing.
“Kestrel promised ice cream,” murmured Noel with a soft chuckle.
“Ah. I like the kind with nuts.”
Richard smiled at him and offered a spoonful up to him.
“Thank you.” He leaned down and took a bite, humming at the flavor.
Richard reached up, stroking his bottom lip.
“Ah, yes,” said Noel. “You dripped.”
He blushed, head ducking. “Oops.”
Richard giggled, fingers sliding to trace the scars on his face.
“Oh, that’s a lovely colour, Jean.”
He stiffened, looking up to see if Noel was making fun of him, but there didn’t seem to
be any mockery in Noel’s eyes.
In fact Noel leaned forward, looking at him rather intently. “I assume you chose the
Glove because you have certain proclivities.”
“I came to the Glove because Mal brought me here, but I stayed because I belonged here,
yes.”
“What do you like?” Noel asked him, Richard’s eyes on him, curious.
Jean looked down, glad for the dark glasses. “I play with Mal, Des. They help me get
outside myself.”
Richard’s fingers stroked gently over the back of his hand again, the soft touches
soothing, full of care.
“I enjoy helping others get outside of themselves, myself.”
“Yes? Richard is very lucky.” You both are.
Richard ducked his head, blushing prettily.
“Oh, Richard and I are very happy with each other, but there are times... when I need a
real work out. It’s one of the reasons we decided to settle here at the club.”
“Oh.” He nodded, watching the light in Richard’s eyes. “There are a lot of good people
here. Mal chooses well.”
“Indeed.” Noel smiled at him and then turned to Richard who was looking intently at
Noel now.
“Richard thinks perhaps you and I are a good match for scenes. And he might be right. If
you are interested, we could set something up.”
“How do you know? Can you read his mind?” Stranger things had happened.
Noel shook his head. “It is more that I can read his eyes, his moods. We’ve been together
over twelve years and I know what makes him happy, what he likes.”
Richard nodded, beaming at Noel, fingers touching Noel’s chest above his heart.
“Twelve years? That’s almost a lifetime for him.” He watched them, their happiness,
their connection. “We could see if we’re compatible. I haven’t worked with many people beyond
Des and Mal, though.”
Richard reached out for him again, hand stroking his again, connecting all three of them
somehow.
“The decision is of course yours,” murmured Noel.
He nodded. “I would like to try.” If nothing else to watch them together again, to be
touched.
Richard beamed at him and squeezed his hand.
“Excellent.” Noel’s smile was calmer, but also enthusiastic.
His fingers closed around Richard’s, holding carefully, holding on. Richard shifted closer
and rested against his shoulder, quiet and there.
Noel made a soft sound. “You look lovely together. Centered and calm.”
Jean reached up, stroking Richard’s hair. “Does he touch everyone so?”
“No. He rarely touches anyone aside from myself.”
Richard nuzzled into his touch, almost like a cat.
“And tonight he has reached out to Kestrel and to you. It confirms my belief that this is
the right place for us.” Noel looked pleased.
Jean kept petting, letting the motion relax him, ease aches he had forgotten.
The table was cleared, little glasses of pale amber liquid left and soft music turned on.
Noel picked up his glass, swirling the liquid around as he watched them. “Yes. The right
place.”
Richard nodded and settled against him.
Jean didn’t know what to say, what to do – it felt so good, touching Richard, sitting with
them both, so he just stayed, eyes closed behind his dark glasses.
He had no idea how long it had been when Noel chuckled softly. “You’ve put him to
sleep, Jean. Thank you – the move has been quite stressful for him. May I inconvenience you and
ask you to carry him to our rooms, please?”
“Of course.” He nodded, bearing Richard’s weight without thought. “Thank you for
letting me hold him.”
“You’re welcome. The two of you are very peaceful together, it was a pleasure to watch.”
Noel led him from the room.
Jean followed quietly to the lift, cradling Richard in his arms. Richard had curled into
him without waking, sleeping happily against him.
“Would you like to set up a time for a scene?” Noel asked him. “If you let me know when
and what you’d like, I can make arrangements.”
“I don’t work. I have a stipend from the corps from the accident, so I have free time
always.” He tilted his head. “Except for afternoons. I spend every afternoon in therapy, trying to
keep things working and loose.” Sometimes he was in massage with Bowie, sometimes in the
pool. Sometimes with the doc.
“Do you prefer public or private sessions?”
“Private. I don’t like people gawking at my scars.”
Noel nodded. “I can understand that. Richard would be present though – he assists me,
helps with clean up, would tend to your needs post scene. If that is acceptable, I propose a scene
tomorrow morning. It has been quite awhile since I had a chance to flex certain … muscles.”
Jean felt his cheeks heat, but he nodded. He would have to call Mal, make sure he was
doing this right. A scene, with a stranger. “Tomorrow morning is fine. Where should we meet?”
“I shall make the arrangements and ask Mal to forward the information to you.”
The lift stopped and opened, Noel leading him to a corner apartment.
Jean chuckled, nodding his head at a door they passed. “That one’s mine. We’re almost
neighbors.”
Noel laughed. “Well it seems that fate has a strong hand here at the Velvet Glove.” Noel
opened his door. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”
He carried Richard into the main room, waiting for Noel to point the way. Fate or Kestrel
– sometimes Jean wondered if they weren’t the same things.
“This way.”
Noel led him through the already unpacked and settled rooms to a bedroom with a huge
bed covered in bright blue silk. “Thank you, Jean. The poor boy has spent the last two days
making sure everything was settled, perfect. I would have hated to have to wake him just to bring
him to bed.”
“It was my pleasure. He is very dear.” Jean put the boy into the bed, moving carefully
and covering Richard up. “There. All settled.”
Settled and so pretty.
Noel ran his hand through Richard’s hair, smiling down at the boy before turning to him.
“Thank you, Jean. For your company and for bringing him home and for tomorrow.”
He held out one scarred hand, shaking Noel’s. “You’re welcome. Thank you for the
meal.”
“You’re welcome.”
Noel walked him back out to the door. “I look forward to our session tomorrow.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Jean headed down the hall, nervous and relaxed all at once. If Mal didn’t believe it was a
good match, the session wouldn’t be set up. Until he found out, he’d just hold onto the feeling of
touching Richard.
Chapter Two: Noel and Richard’s First Scene with Jean
Richard trotted happily down the hall behind Noel. They were going to do a scene with
Jean. He really liked Jean. The man was big and quiet.
One time Noel had gone on a skiing trip and they’d spent five days in a cabin near the top
of a mountain covered in snow. It had been so big and so quiet; it had touched him inside.
Jean was like that.
Noel opened the room Mal had assigned them and Richard turned the lights on, but not
too bright.
He found the control panel and set the temperature so they’d be comfortable naked and
then he found the cupboard full of toys and started to take out the stuff that Noel liked to use in a
big scene.
He set several cock and ball rings next to three anal plugs, a choice of blindfolds, a
paddle, three different weighted floggers, two bullwhips and a thick cane. Noel would let Jean
choose what he wanted from this selection.
“Take the whips away, Richard, it’s been too long since I last played and I haven’t the
patience to wield them properly.”
He nodded and put them back into the cupboard.
“Mm … perfect, Lovely.”
He smiled happily up at Noel and found a soft blanket, putting it over the bench Jean
would kneel over. He folded a second blanket up to cushion the man’s knees. He found a bottle
of water for Jean and another for Noel and then began to undress, neatly folding his clothing and
leaving it next to the door.
“Bring me one of the cock rings for you, Richard. You’ll not come before Jean.”
Richard nodded, pleased that Noel was including him this much, that he was expected to
be excited. He brought a simple device over to Noel, moaning softly as his cock was taken and
pumped to hardness by Noel’s warm hand. His master made him feel so good; he was truly
lucky.
“You may undress me. I’ll leave my pants on.”
Nodding once again, he helped Noel to undress and by the time he was done it was
exactly ten o’clock.
A soft rap sounded, right on time, the door opening to reveal Jean’s huge form, dark
glasses clicking to adjust to the low light.
Oh, it made his heart beat happily to see Jean; the big man made him feel good. Richard
went to Jean and took his hand, drawing him into the room. Jean came easily, the big hand only
shaking a little. Richard patted Jean’s hand, trying to reassure the man. Noel was good and
would not give more than Jean could take.
“Welcome, Jean. Before we start – you have a safeword?” Noel asked.
“Ice.” Jean nodded. “Good morning.”
“Very good. Richard will help you undress and then you may choose your pleasures from
what’s laid out on the table.”
“Do you wish to be called ‘sir’?”
“Only if you’re being chastised.” Noel chuckled and Richard ducked his head, blushing.
He only ever called his master sir if he’d been bad.
Jean nodded again, fingers reaching out, sliding with his, squeezing.
Richard smiled and squeezed back before starting to undress Jean, fingers working open
the buttons of Jean’s shirt. Jean was covered in a webbing of pale scars, worse around his face
and shoulders and hands, fading around his belly. Richard reached out, touching softly, tracing
them.
“That’s quite the souvenir,” murmured Noel. “If you don’t want Richard touching them,
just let him know.”
Richard’s eyes flew to Jean’s. He hadn’t even thought … he’d just been curious.
“It’s fine. They don’t hurt. They’re just ugly.” Jean lifted his head. “I can’t see well
without my glasses, should I keep them on?”
“If it’s important for you to see during the session, keep them on – otherwise take them
off.”
Noel was drinking from his water bottle, waiting patiently for them.
Richard could feel Jean’s tension as he tried to decide. Finally, the glasses stayed on.
Richard pet Jean’s cheek to reassure. Noel had said it was up to Jean, there was no wrong choice.
He finished undressing Jean, continuing to touch as the rest of the clothes came off.
Jean’s body was hairless, cock heavy and beginning to fill. The scarred skin was warm
and strange, but interesting under his fingertips. He found he wanted to curl up against Jean and
just be in the midst of that big quiet.
“Move along, Richard, you can explore later.”
He nodded and took Jean’s hand, leading him to the table with the toys spread out. Jean
seemed to tower over him, but the hand in his was gentle. He brought Jean to the table and
touched all the tools, curious to know which ones Jean would choose.
Jean chose one of the floggers, handing it to him. He took it, stroking the thick, heavy
lengths of leather. It would leave such marks. He touched Jean’s belly softly and then turned
back to the table, wondering if Jean would choose anything else.
Jean stood, face quiet, eyes hidden. He petted Jean’s belly again.
“You don’t want a plug or a cock ring?” Noel asked. “Just the flogger?”
“I …” Jean looked confused for a minute, then nodded. “Yes.”
Okay. Richard knew what do to next then. He smiled up at Jean and brought him over to
the bench. Then he took another blanket and put in on the floor, sitting on it to watch.
“Is there anything you need before we begin?” Noel asked.
“No. I’m good.” Jean leaned over the bench, muscles rippling.
Richard smiled at Jean. He wanted to kiss Jean, but wouldn’t until Noel told him he
could.
“We shall begin,” murmured Noel.
Then it began, Noel’s arm working the flogger, making it sing through the air, the sound
of leather on flesh making Richard jump. Jean never moved, never spoke, as the scarred flesh
turned a deep rose.
Again and again the flogger fell, the sound becoming hypnotic, as was the sound of Noel
and Jean’s breath slowly synchronizing. Jean relaxed, moving with Noel’s blows, a soft sigh
escaping into the air. His own breathing matched theirs and he started to rock in time to the
blows, losing himself in the sounds. Almost humming. It was such good music. Solid and even
and constant.
The smell of Jean – rich and male and somehow green – filled the air, made him want to
taste, to touch. And he was almost overcome with the desire to pull off Jean’s glasses and see the
man’s eyes, to go into Jean through them.
He looked up at Noel, catching his master’s eyes, earning himself a small smile. “Go
ahead, Richard,” Noel said softly. “It will not disrupt us.”
Turning back to Jean, he leaned forward, fingers reaching for the glasses. He looked into
them, trying to find Jean’s eyes, trying to ask permission without words. Jean didn’t pull away
from him, the curls bobbing as Jean nodded. As he pulled the glasses away, the pale, pale eyes
squinted at the half light.
His hands slid into Jean’s hair, tilting the big face slightly so that they were looking into
each other’s eyes, so close he was drowning in the pale almost-grey green.
Jean cried out, looking at him, scarred eyelids fluttering. He petted Jean, fingers sliding
through the soft curls, still breathing with Noel, willing Jean to find the rhythm again. A soft
moan sounded, Jean leaning toward him, lost in the rhythm and pattern of their breath again.
Yes, that was better. Now they were connected, all three of them in the sound of their
breathing, in the sound of the flogger thudding against Jean’s skin again and again. He could feel
how Jean was losing himself in it, was right there with Jean and, through Jean, with Noel.
Jean’s eyes were unfocused, blinks coming so slow, cheeks pink.
Richard was rocking again, finding the music inside the sounds they shared together,
finding the beauty in Jean’s pain, in his scars, in the need buried deep inside.
“Oh …” Jean’s muscles rippled, arching, moving for the first time.
Richard breathed the sound in, a shiver moving through him, his cock starting to throb.
Jean panted, moaning low, entire body rocking.
“Mm … yes.” Noel’s words were low, husky, pleased.
It made Richard moan, too, his own rocking increasing. A series of shudders moved Jean,
the look on the scarred face surprised. Richard licked his own lips, wanting to taste Jean’s, to
taste the feelings and sensations.
“Not yet, Richard. Not yet.”
He blinked slowly, acknowledging Noel’s words. Oh, but he wanted.
“Oh. Oh, I …” Jean gasped, jerking.
“Now, sweetling.”
At the command he leaned forward, touching his lips to Jean’s, not pressing hard, asking.
Jean opened to him, the kiss sure and steady, Jean breathing into him.
Oh. Oh. Jean tasted like … he belonged. Jean’s cry was sweet against his lips, honeyed.
He slid his tongue in, teasing Jean’s back into his own mouth. Hot and hungry, tongue sliding
against his, all liquid need. He moaned, pressing the noise into Jean’s mouth, trusting him with
the sound.
Jean cried out, eyes wide, unfocused, face shining with sweat.
“Take off the cock-ring, Richard. Let Jean taste you.”
Whimpering, he broke the kiss, fingers fumbling with the leather that bound him.
“Oh. Oh, yes. Please.” Jean groaned, thighs parting.
He took another kiss and then stood, moaning as he finally snapped the ring open and the
leather slid away.
Jean’s lips were open, parted, hungry. He fed his cock into Jean’s mouth, gasping as hot
lips closed around him. Jean pulled steadily, tongue and lips working at him, making him push
deep, burying himself into Jean’s throat.
It felt so good, like he was being swallowed by that big quiet mountain, but instead of
cold it was hot. Those pale eyes were closed, Jean sucking steadily, head bobbing, hips rolling.
Noel was still using the flogger and he started to thrust into Jean’s mouth in time, fingers tracing
the scars.
Low sounds vibrated around his cock, Jean’s shoulders tensing and shaking, body
flushed.
“Now,” ordered Noel. “Both of you. Together. Now!”
The leather fell, hitting Jean’s back and splitting the skin.
Sensation made him shake as he came down Jean’s throat. The scent of Jean got stronger,
heady as Jean drank him down, pulling at him.
“Very nice,” murmured Noel, satisfaction threading through the words.
Noel came around and raised his head, taking his mouth in a soft kiss and then pulling
him back, helping him sit. He whimpered as his cock came out of Jean’s mouth, but he let Noel
move him.
Then Noel bent to kiss Jean and it made him shudder, knowing his master would taste
him inside Jean’s mouth. They looked natural together, Jean opening to Noel easily.
He curled up on his blanket, watching happily. Noel didn’t often give of himself to the
men he beat. Jean was special though, he could feel it.
Jean began to shiver, aftershocks and pain starting to make their mark.
“Richard,” murmured Noel and he nodded, going to the medi-cupboard.
“I …” Jean leaned toward Noel’s hands, gasping.
He hurried, getting the spray to ease Jean’s pain and keep away any infection. Then they
would take Jean to bed and he would cuddle with Jean until the man found his center again. He
looked up at Noel as he sprayed Jean’s back. They would.
Noel chuckled softly. “Richard’s right. You should come home with us, Jean. Will you?”
Jean blinked. “You … you don’t mind?”
“I’m not in the habit of asking for things that I mind.” Noel helped Jean to stand. “Come,
come.”
Jean stood, a little shaky, a little off-balance, leaning against Noel slightly. Richard
moved in, putting his arm around Jean’s waist to help support him.
Jean looked around, frowning. “I … My glasses? Clothes?”
“Richard will get them later. Relax, Jean. Let us take care of you.”
Richard nodded eagerly, hand stroking Richard’s belly. He wanted to take care of Jean.
“Don’t … don’t let me fall? I can’t see the floor without them.”
“Just lean on us, Jean. We won’t let you fall.”
Jean’s head bobbed, fingers holding onto them, trying to trust.
Chapter Three: Noel and Richard Bring Jean Home
They arrived at their rooms without comment from any of the other guests or staff and
Noel nodded, pleased. It was obviously not a strange thing, two men supporting a third, two of
them naked, one dressed only in trousers. He had made the right choice in coming to the Velvet
Glove.
He palmed open the door, helping Jean in.
Richard went ahead, straight to the bedroom to turn on the fireplace and turn down the
covers.
Noel grinned, feeling very in tune with Richard and Jean both. It had been far too long
since he’d had a workout and it was a joy to work on someone like Jean. Someone who needed
it. He led Jean right to the bed, Richard helping him settle the large body, his boy stroking the
welts on Jean’s back as well as the scars that covered the big man.
Noel himself settled behind Jean, holding the man.
“Get us some juice, fruit and water, Richard. And make sure there’s plenty of lube.”
He wanted to watch Jean fuck Richard. The very thought made his cock throb.
Once Richard was gone, he stroked Jean’s arm. “How are you?”
Jean offered him a sweet, soft sound. “A little overwhelmed. I didn’t know it would be
like that. I don’t know if I understand why it’s so easy to trust you.”
“Richard believes the three of us are meant to be together. He opens his heart very easily,
my boy.” He kept stroking, rewarding Jean’s honesty. “I must admit, I haven’t felt this good after
a scene before. Only with Richard.” He brought Jean’s hand back to rest on his hip. “What was
different from your usual scenes?”
“I …” Jean’s hand moved carefully, slowly, touching him. “I came. It was sexual. With
Mal it isn’t, it’s about pain, about not being me anymore. I was there, the whole time.”
He nodded. Many of the men he beat had no interest in coming. He himself had not
come, though the air had been charged and he felt sated now, as if he had.
“It was my pleasure to be able to give you that.”
Jean smiled, scars pulling. “Was it good for you? And that still sounds as silly as when I
was a kid trying to talk to my lover.”
Noel chuckled softly. “Yes, Jean. It was good for me. Very good.” He let his hardness
slide against Jean’s ass. “It was indeed a pleasure. And my Richard. You made him glow.”
As if drawn by his name, Richard came in with a tray. Jean rocked back against him,
those pale-pale eyes blinking, trying to see.
“Would you be more comfortable with your glasses, Jean?” Richard looked at him and
he nodded at his boy. “Our stuff has been delivered by the staff.” He really was going to have to
commend Hercules.
“Yes. I’m sorry, but I feel vulnerable without them.”
He pet Jean gently. “Richard will get them for you. Vulnerable is good for a scene, but
less so for making love in our bed, yes?”
His sweet boy went off again, pert little ass a fine view. Oh yes, he wanted to watch them
together, knew that Richard wanted to be with Jean that way.
Jean nodded, relaxing against him, those stiff fingers petting his thigh. “Yes. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Jean. Maybe one day you will trust us enough to go without them
here.”
He didn’t get an answer, Jean just touching him, feeling him. “Can I ask you a question,
Noel?”
“I will allow it.”
“My scars … They don’t disgust you? Turn you off?”
He slid his hands down to run over them, tracing them. “No. They are … interesting.”
“I hate them.”
“Why?” he asked as Richard came back and offered the special glasses to Jean.
Jean slid them on, frowning a little. “Why? They’re ugly, stiff, deforming. I can’t do my
job anymore, can’t work. People look at me.”
Richard climbed onto the bed, fingers gentle and loving as they began to trace Jean’s
scars.
“Yes, people like Richard. Who doesn’t find them ugly.”
Jean rumbled softly, moving towards Richard’s touch. “I … It’s not the same. Richard is
lovely …”
He chuckled. “Richard is … Richard. And he finds your scars beautiful. He finds you
beautiful.”
“But …” One hand stroked Richard’s cheek, the touch careful, gentle. “How can you?”
Richard smiled gently at Jean, eyes warm and full of love. Oh, his dear boy gave his heart
so easily. Noel had a hunch it would not be broken by Jean.
“Because Richard sees with his heart and soul.”
Jean made a soft, broken sound, eyes closing, arms open to Richard. So lovely together,
his boy and this scarred man.
He leaned forward to whisper into Jean’s ear, knowing his Richard would hear. “Make
love to him.”
“Oh …” Jean moaned, drawing Richard close. “Oh, yes. Please.”
Richard beamed over at him, small hand reaching out to stroke his cheek. He kissed the
slender fingers.
“Show me your pleasure. Love each other,” he told them.
Richard turned to Jean, fingers sliding through the man’s curls.
Jean purred, hands moving to cup Richard’s hip, moaning softly. “Oh, your hands...”
Richard’s fingers slid across the scarred cheek and the smooth one, eyes following a
caress of their own.
“How do you like to be loved? What makes you happy?” Oh, Jean was a dear man, so
focused.
“Follow your heart,” Noel murmured, hand stroking Jean’s back, sliding along the welts
he’d left.
Jean moaned, gathered Richard close, holding him against that huge strength, cradling
him, rocking them together. Richard purred, face pure bliss, fingers wandering along Jean’s
scars. Those huge, careful hands traced Richard’s body, lips brushing against his sweet little
love.
Richard undulated beneath Jean’s touches, sweet, soft noises beginning to fill the air.
Noel slid his hand down his own body, wrapping it around his prick and stroking slowly.
So different – one huge and scarred, the other slender and perfect, both focused on each
other, both needing. Richard’s small fingers slid over Jean’s chest, exploring, stopping and
playing whenever Jean moaned.
One of Jean’s nipples was unscarred, sensitive, and touching the area beneath the scarred
navel made Jean twist, hips arching back against Noel.
Richard’s mouth followed his fingers, tongue sliding over Jean’s skin. Jean’s pleasure
was heated, lovely, almost heartbreaking in his need. Richard wriggled down, licking at Jean’s
cock, taking the tip into his mouth.
Noel murmured. “Just a bit, sweet boy. I want Jean to fuck you.”
“Oh …” Jean’s mouth was open, eyes wide behind the dark glasses. “Oh, please.”
Richard kissed the tip of Jean’s cock and then wriggled back up the bed and grabbed the
lube from the side table drawer, handing it to Jean. His sweet boy kissed Jean softly and turned,
ass in the air.
“Are you sure?” Jean’s hand slid down, fingers brushing Richard’s crease. “So pretty.”
“He wants you. Can’t you feel it?” His hand joined Jean’s, petting the pretty ass.
“He’s so beautiful …” Jean leaned forward, tongue sliding along the fine skin.
“Yes, he is.” He leaned back, working his cock. Watching.
Jean spread Richard’s cheeks, tongue sliding against the tight little hole, wetting it.
Richard jerked, keened softly, body pushing back into the caress. Jean groaned, pushing harder
now, loving Richard, making Richard need. His sweet boy’s body rocked, Richard’s noises
getting louder, pleasure giving Richard a voice.
Jean cried out, tongue sliding up along Richard’s spine. “I need. Richard? Now?”
Moaning, Richard pushed back, need obvious.
“Yes, Jean. Fill him. Fuck him. Love him.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, please. Yes.” Jean slid inside Richard with one long, smooth motion, a
needy cry filling the air.
Richard’s gasp was sweet, the whimper that followed sweeter.
Jean pulled back, then pressed back in, the thrusts long and sure and graceful, the huge
muscles rippling in Jean’s striped back. Richard’s body moved with Jean, pushing back into each
thrust, the sweet back bowed, Richard’s head thrown back. So beautiful. They both were, the
way they moved together.
Noel stroked his own cock harder, their noses sending sparks along his spine.
Jean pulled Richard up, settling back so Richard was riding his cock, sitting on the strong
thighs. One of Jean’s hand surrounded Richard’s prick, tugging it, stroking.
Richard’s head went back onto Jean’s shoulder, mouth open, sweet, wanton noises
coming from his boy.
“Beautiful. So hot.” Jean’s lips fastened onto Richard’s shoulder, sucking as they fucked.
Richard’s breath came in soft pants that grew noisier and nosier, his sweet boy’s back
suddenly arching, come spraying over Jean’s hand. Jean groaned, rocking faster, muscles going
tight as the big man shot.
Noel moaned, squeezing his prick tight, coming over his hand.
Jean held Richard, rocking slowly. Richard came off Jean’s cock and turned to curl into
the big man’s arms.
Jean hummed, holding Richard close, surrounding him. “Is this okay?”
“Yes, my beautiful ones. It is very okay.”
He lay back, grabbing a handful of berries to eat as he watched Jean turn Richard into a
blissful bundle. Jean rested, huge and quiet, hands petting Richard constantly.
Peace settled over him.
Oh yes. Coming to the Velvet Glove was the best thing he’d done since he’d bought
Richard.
Chapter Four: Jean Finds a Home
Jean had gone to his therapy, leaving Richard and Noel’s bed to sweat and cry and moan
through the stretches and stances, each one assuring that he did not lose more motion, more skin.
Once he was finished, Harrison helped him down into the whirlpool, the huge, gentle
hands wiping his face. “You did great, Jean. I’m proud of you. You want anyone to sit with you
today? Want something to drink?”
He grinned up into the now-familiar blue-green eyes. Harrison was his own personal
angel, right up there with Mal and Kes. “I … could you comm the guys in room … Oh, never
mind. I’d like some water, please.” He wasn’t going to bother them; they were probably enjoying
each other.
“Sure, Jean. Water and maybe some protein drink? You worked hard.”
“Okay. Sure.” His curls were petted, and then Harrison wandered off to get his stuff,
white-blond ponytail swaying between massive shoulders.
A few minutes later a soft tap came at his shoulder. He turned to find Richard, the little
love with a gentle smile, hands full with water and his protein drink.
“Richard!” He smiled, heart pounding. Oh, oh, how nice to see that face. “Hi. Did
Harrison comm you?”
Richard shook his head and pointed to himself.
“You just came?” He beamed, scooted over carefully. “Wanna come in?”
Richard nodded, handing him the water and protein drink and climbing right into his lap.
A soft chuckle sounded, Noel there with another bottle of water and two drinks with
fancy sticks in them. “I’m afraid he can be rather pushy once he’s decided what he wants, Jean.”
Jean drank the protein drink in three gulps, wrinkling his nose and setting the empty glass
aside before wrapping his arms around Richard, holding the thin body close and petting, the
tension from therapy leaving him. “I don’t mind. Would you like to come in, too, Noel? The
water’s nice and warm.”
“Yes, Jean, I would.”
Noel dropped off his robe, wearing a dark red pair of trunks that matched Richard’s and
sitting close. Noel handed Richard over one of the fancy drinks, sipping at the other one himself.
Richard took a sip, nose wrinkling and soft giggles sounding.
“Mm, it tickles,” murmured Noel, stroking Richard’s cheek. “The two of you look
absolutely perfect together.
Jean blushed, closing his eyes, breathing slowly, breathing in the scents of water and
them and him. Richard was curled into him, one small hand petting his skin.
“Thank you for coming down.” Afternoons were hard, painful. This was … peaceful.
“Our pleasure. Richard wanted to be with you – we missed you when we woke up.”
Richard nodded agreement, gazing up at him. He leaned down and took a soft, gentle
kiss, tongue pressing in to taste.
Richard’s mouth opened to him, hands fluttering on his skin as Noel purred softly. “Yes,
just perfect together.”
He held Richard as carefully as he could, heart pounding, refusing to hurt this sweet,
gentle boy. Richard fed little gasps and hums into his mouth, pressing closer against him. He pet
gently, feeling himself relax, feeling himself there and happy. He could learn to love this.
Noel’s hand stroked through his hair. “Kiss him, Jean, undress him, enjoy him – he wants
you.”
He groaned, one hand sliding to cup Richard’s ass, the trunks slick with the water. “I
want him. Want you both.”
“Good, hmm? You seem to have us both.”
Richard nodded, wriggling against him.
He chuckled, thighs parting to cradle Richard. “It’s hard to believe.”
Richard’s head tilted and he could almost hear the word ‘why’.
Jean blushed again, looked down. “I thought no one would ever, because of my eyes and
my scars.” Silly, but true.
Richard’s eyes softened, and those sweet hands gently traced the scars on his face and
then Richard leaned up and kissed the side of his face.
“Richard sees beyond the surface, into the person within. He’s always been able to do
so.” Noel’s fingers also brushed his scars. “They are a part of who you are, of what happened to
you. It is a poor man who won’t accept the whole of his lovers.”
He nodded, letting himself lean toward Noel’s touch, Richard’s lips. “They mean I was
strong enough to survive. Stronger than all the others.”
“Yes. Such beautiful strength,” murmured Noel, fingers trailing down to his neck,
stroking.
Richard licked at his lips, eyes on his, full of pleasure and passion. His cock began to fill,
a low groan sliding into Richard’s mouth. His fingers slid beneath Richard’s trunks, pushing
them away so he could touch.
Moaning, Richard wriggled and rubbed against him, skin so soft and sweet. It was easy in
the water to move Richard, slide their cocks together and let the buoyancy help his tired muscles.
“Yes, lovely, perfect. Slide a finger inside him, Jean, he likes being penetrated, loves it.”
Noel’s mouth was at his ear, breath tickling his skin.
Jean moaned, shivering as he nodded, finger circling the tiny hole before pressing in.
Richard gasped, cock pushing against his.
“So tight. So good.” He took another kiss, finger sliding in and out.
Richard nodded, moving against him, riding his finger and moaning softly. Noel’s hand
moved between them and wrapped their cocks together, pumping them both. Richard’s sounds
got louder.
“Oh. Oh, ‘s good …” The water was splashing a little now, his breath coming faster.
“Yes. Beautiful. Pleasure suits you, Jean.”
Richard began to pepper his face with little kisses, sweet body moving quickly on him.
He added another finger, so careful, gasping at the pressure, at the heat. His heart was pounding,
prick full and heavy.
Richard keened softly, body rippling around his fingers.
“Find his sweet spot, Jean. Make him come and then you can have him.”
Jean whimpered, pushed deeper until his fingers nudged a smooth spot that made Richard
jerk, then he pushed it again and again. Richard keened and whimpered, riding his fingers with
abandon, cock sliding along his in the tunnel of Noel’s hand.
“Come, little one, don’t make him wait too long.”
With that Richard cried out, eyes going wide, ass squeezing his fingers so tight. Jean
groaned, head lolling needing so badly. Richard gave him a long kiss, Noel’s hands sliding to the
little love’s ass, lifting Richard for him.
“Oh. Yes. Please. I need …” He shifted, body begging, needing to feel Richard around
him.
Richard helped and soon enough was sinking down onto his cock, eyes wide, red lips
parted.
The whole world stopped moving for a little while – pleasure and water and Richard and
Noel and that’s it, nothing else. “Yes …”
“Breathe,” murmured Noel, licking his neck, mouth closing over the vein where his blood
pumped.
He gasped, head falling back, shudders rocking him.
Richard moved on his cock, rising and falling, slender fingers playing with his nipples as
Noel continued to lick and suck and bite at his neck. His skin was sensitized, alight, alive,
aroused. His hips jerked and rocked, pushing in and in into Richard’s heat.
The little love was riding him enthusiastically, making soft noises and gasping and
watching him, smiling, happy, shaking with pleasure.
“Oh. Oh, so fine. Sweet love. So fine.” He had one hand on Richard’s hip, the other on
Noel’s thigh.
Noel took his hand and moved it, wrapped it around Noel’s heavy prick, encouraged him
to stroke in the same rhythm he was using to take Richard. He keened, feeling nothing but
pleasure, surrounded by these two men. Richard’s tongue met Noel’s on his lips, both pressing in
to taste him.
Opening wide, the sensations simply overwhelmed him, hand and hips moving furiously.
One of Richard’s hands joined his on Noel’s cock, the other one wrapped around Richard’s own
cock, the sweet keening noises getting louder.
“S … soon. Soon. I need. Soon.” He was flying, floating. Soaring.
“You first, Richard,” said Noel, voice rough, husky. “Come on his cock, pull it out of
him.”
“Oh!” Richard cried out – such noises from the quiet boy – and came, body milking his
cock hard.
Jean growled, hips slamming up furiously, tears sliding down his cheeks in pure
adrenaline.
“Yes, so good,” murmured Noel, he and Richard licking the tears from his face. “Your
turn now, dear Jean. Fill our Richard with your pleasure.”
Ours. Our Richard. Oh. Oh. Oh. He nodded, lips meeting Noel’s, moaning as he came,
pushing deep into Richard.
Noel’s prick jerked within his hand just after he came, the strong body rippling, a
murmur pushed into his mouth.
Richard’s sweet hands pet them both, soft gasping the only sound he was making now.
Jean floated, sated and melted every muscle lax. Richard stayed curled up against him,
body still holding his cock inside, tight and snug.
“You bring our Richard such peace,” Noel said, floating next to him.
“He’s beautiful, so dear.” His eyes filled again, looking over at Noel. “Ours? Really?”
“He’s given himself to you, Jean. Chosen you to belong to along with me.” Noel
chuckled. “I have never been able to say no to him and in this I find I don’t want to.”
Jean could feel Richard’s smile against his chest. He held Richard, too moved to speak, to
do anything but hold until Harrison’s voice sounded, low and unobtrusive. “Mr. Noel? We need
to get Jean out. His skin is delicate. Do you need assistance?”
“I think we can manage, Harrison, thank you.”
Richard clambered off his lap, but kept touching him, small hands soft on his skin.
“You should have said something,” chided Noel, though there was no heat in the words.
“Hmm?” His head was a little swimmy, heart pounding.
“Time to get out now, Jean. Come along, we’ll retire to my apartments. Richard can take
care of your needs and you can be company for him while I’m doing business.”
Noel’s voice had taken on a tone that brooked no nonsense, that insisted on being obeyed.
“Yes, sir.” He nodded, let Noel help him up. He felt good, melty and hot and giddy.
Alive.
Richard’s hand slid into his and Noel put his robe around the slender body, unconcerned
with his own nudity. Harrison brought Jean’s robe over and helped him get it on.
“You going to be okay, Jean? You going to make it?” Harrison was gentle, concerned.
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m going home.”
Richard beamed at him, nodding. The hand in his squeezed.
“We won’t let anything happen to him, Harrison,” Noel assured the man. “He sees you
the same time tomorrow, yes?”
Harrison nodded. “Five days with me, one day with Bowie, one day with Doc. He’s a
hard worker, my Jean.”
“I’m sure he is; it’s in his nature.”
Noel took his other hand and he was led out, Richard’s happiness bright and palpable,
Noel’s less so, but no less there.
He followed, exhausted, worn. Happy. Really happy. “Thank you.”
“Hmm? For what, Jean?”
“For letting me in.”
Richard squeezed his hand tight.
“Oh. Well thank you for coming in, Jean. I know it wasn’t an easy step for you, but you
fit.” Noel spoke for Richard as he always did.
Jean nodded, sighing softly as they reached the flat. Richard took his hand and put it on
the palmlock, looking pointedly at Noel.
“Yes, sweet boy, you’re right. Jean? Can we put your palmprint on the lock? Will you
truly make this your home?”
“Oh …” He couldn’t speak, throat closing up, eyes watering. So good to him. They
wanted him. Wanted him.
He nodded.
Richard beamed up at him, bouncing. The little palm hit the lock, opening the door for
them. He stepped through, blinking, eyes trying to remember where everything was, so he could
go without his glasses. Richard kept hold of his hand though, leading him to a wide chair and
settling in his lap again as soon as he sat. The sweet boy rested against him, body going lax, face
peaceful, blissful.
“Do you need anything before I go for my meeting?” Noel asked.
“No. No, I think I’ll just hold him and rest, if that’s okay.” There were lotions he needed
to rub in, but that was later, for now, this was good.
Noel nodded. “Richard will help you with anything you need. Perhaps even make you
need, hmm?” Noel winked and left them.
He relaxed, holding Richard, hands moving slowly over the soft, pale skin. “So fine …”
Richard rubbed a smooth cheek against his chest and he could feel the happiness and
peace Richard felt with him.
“I could fall in love with you. So easy.” Maybe he already had. He wasn’t sure. He’d
never done it before.
Richard looked up at him with a beaming smile, nodding.
“Oh, that’s a great smile …” He leaned down to taste it.
Richard hummed softly for him, lips parting. He could get lost in these kisses, in the feel
of Richard soft and warm against him. Richard himself seemed to agree, purring and rubbing
against him, encouraging the lazy kisses. It was like a quiet magic, a balm, a peace that filled
him.
Richard wasn’t afraid to touch his scars, to explore his skin everywhere, hand warm and
gentle, making him feel special instead of ugly. He whispered softly, telling Richard how good it
felt, how much it had hurt when it happened, how scared he’d been when he’d woken up and
couldn’t see. The entire time, Richard touched him, watched him with intent eyes, so much
support, so giving.
He told Richard things he’d never told anyone – how Mal made him feel, how lonely
he’d been, how much he missed flying, colors. He talked and kissed and talked and touched,
pouring himself around Richard.
Silent, but strong despite his stature, Richard took everything he had to give, absorbed his
pain and his pleasure, his need and his fears, just accepted it all without judgment.
He looked into Richard’s eyes, fingers trailing over the fine face. “Are you okay? Is this
okay, love?”
Richard nodded, smiling at him. “Love.”
He nodded, fingers trailing over Richard’s smile. “Yes. Love.”
Richard kissed his fingers, pressing against him.
He was lost. Home. Taken.
THE END
Rock Stars and
Size Queens
Chapter One
Jax’s transport hovered silently in the pale dawn hours, waiting for Hercules to open the
doors for them. The transport was as non-descript as possible, no glitz, no glamour, just sheer
class. Angel was curled up in a huge fur wrap, drugged to the gills, skin damned near translucent.
Eighty-four planets in seventy-five cycles and Jax hadn’t been sure Angel would be
standing for the last concert. Still, they’d survived. Survived and paid the band and packed up
and went straight on a forced sabbatical that Jax was purposefully not calling a retirement.
Of course, if he was going into seclusion and pseudo-retirement with the most popular
singer in the galaxy – the Glove is where he’d want to be. They had a fine suite – four bedrooms,
two living areas, two dining areas, five bathrooms, two playrooms and a recording studio.
Hercules assured him total privacy and the type of lifestyle Angel needed.
Thank the stars for bottomless pockets.
The doors opened, Hercules coming to help him with their bags. “Jax. Welcome. I wish
we were seeing you under better circumstances.”
“Oh, my friend, I do, too. Do you have a chair or stretcher for him? He’s not coherent.”
Jax wouldn’t even say Angel’s name until they were safely settled in their rooms.
“I can carry him if you can’t. A chair would have aroused questions. A stretcher even
more so.”
“I’ll carry him; I can’t trust he won’t panic on you.” Jax gave Herc a wry smile. “There’s
nothing left inside him. He’s exhausted.”
Hercules nodded. “I’ll get all the bags then. I’ve told the staff we’ve got a rich top in, but
I didn’t mention anyone else.”
“Thank you.” He leaned in, took Angel’s hand. “Come on, baby. There’s a nice warm
bed waiting for you. Come with me and Jax’ll take care of you.”
Angel shifted and leaned into him and he lifted, hefting the singer up and keeping the
distinctive features well-covered with the furs. “Got him. Lead the way.”
Hercules led him in and over to an elevator. “You’ve been here before so I was able to set
the elevator and your rooms up with your palmprint. There are only five suites on your floor and
there are only your palmprint and mine which open your door.”
He nodded, careful not to trip over Angel’s covering. “The vidfeeds and comms are
encoded, yes? The last thing any of us need are reporters infiltrating. I know you have been
exceptionally helpful during this situation, Herc. I appreciate it more than I can express.”
“Trust me, Jax. I know how to keep a secret and how to make sure my club keeps yours.
My employees are extremely loyal. And besides, none of them knows anything.”
Hercules led him out of the lift and to a door at the far end of the corridor. The door
opened beneath Hercules’ palm and then they were in their new home.
“Which door’s his bedroom?” Jax smiled at Hercules gratefully as the man pointed the
way. “I have spoken with Malachi, asking him to choose a permanent sub for me and perhaps,
once my boy’s on his feet, someone to … take him out of himself. Malachi recommended your
physician highly and suggested not hiring an outsider.”
“Doc’s the best. Everyone I hire is.” Hercules went back to the door. “I’ll let Malachi
know you’re here.”
“I appreciate it.” He pulled the covers back and got Angel settled, the beautiful face not
even twitching. “You’ve saved my ass, Herc. I won’t forget it.”
“Neither will I.” Hercules winked at him and left, door closing quietly behind him.
Jax wandered about, searching the rooms. Kestrel and Mal had outdone themselves. His
room was clean and done in rich, dark colors, the playroom filled with his favorite toys. The
other playroom was bare, waiting, as were the two other rooms. The recording studio was fine
and well-equipped and, until Angel was better, off-limits. He was checking out the kitchen when
there was a soft knock on the door.
Jax checked the vid com, pressed the intercom. “Yes?”
“I’m here for a Mr. Jax, Sir. Malachi sent me, Sir.” The voice was soft, low, vowels
round.
“Just a moment, please.” Jax commed Mal, speaking as soon as the man answered. “Mal.
Jax. Who’s at my door?”
Mal chuckled. “Your new toy. Hand-picked, Jax. He’s lovely and refined and disciplined
as fuck and he’ll be gentle with Angel. Try him. Trust me. I know what you like.”
“You are a self-sure bastard, Mal.” Jax grinned. “You’ll come up later?”
Mal snorted. “Day after tomorrow or so. Let you sleep.”
Jax clicked off the comm and opened the door. “I’m sorry, I needed to check with Mal.”
“Yes, Sir.” The man who spoke was beautiful, skin like a dark cafe, eyes like warm
choco
“Come in.” He ushered the man into the sitting room, sinking into an overstuffed couch.
“I’m Jax. Please, have a seat, tell me about yourself.”
What a pretty gift.
The man immediately sat at his feet.
“My name is Minuet.”
Jax reached out, hand sliding over the man’s cheek, purring at the warmth. “Hello,
Minuet. What did Mal tell you about me?”
Minuet nuzzled against his hand. “That you were one of the best tops he knew. That you
would give me what I needed.”
“That is high praise. Did he explain the situation? That I require a long-term, private
relationship?”
Minuet nodded. “It suits me well, Sir. I prefer a single master.”
“Excellent. What else do you prefer, my pretty gift?” Oh, so lovely. So fine. He needed.
“Long, slow scenes, Sir. Being filled.”
“Mmm … What’s your favorite thing to be filled with?” Perfect. Oh, sweet heavens.
Perfect.
“Beads are my absolute favorite, Sir.”
He swallowed a moan. “Let me see you.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Minuet stood and removed his clothing, efficiently but unhurriedly, folding each garment
and putting it on the table. Then the man stood there, shoulders back, chin up, proud and
beautiful.
He stood, hand trailing over the soft skin, eyes admiring. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you, Sir, to serve you, Sir.”
“Yes, my gift. Yes.”
Desire warred with sheer exhaustion as he admired, touched. His hands moved slowly –
cupped soft balls, stroked the hidden ring of muscles, dipped into Minuet’s navel.
Minuet took long, slow breaths, prick filling, rising toward the muscled belly.
“You’re lovely and I want to play with you, but I’m dirty and tired and hungry. Shall we
take a bath, soak, learn one another before Angel wakes up?”
“As you wish, Sir. If I may ask, Sir, who is Angel?” Minuet’s voice was rich and low,
melodious and deep.
“Angel is our roommate, Pet. He’s very tired and we’ve worked together for years. He’s
here on a bit of a forced retirement and we’re here, too.” Jax pointed out rooms as they walked
towards the huge bathroom. “This one will belong to whomever comes to … service Angel. This
is Angel’s room. This room is yours to do with as you will. The last is mine.”
“Does Sir wish me to sleep in my own room?” Jax couldn’t tell from the inflections in
Minuet’s voice which answer the man was hoping for.
“I prefer a sleeping partner. However, if you wish to sleep alone, I will allow it.”
“My desire is to please you, Sir. I will do as you wish.”
He wrapped one arm around Minuet’s waist, leading them into the bathroom. “We’ll
have a long time to get to know each other, Minuet, in close quarters. You must be honest with
me.”
“Yes, Sir. I have been honest with you and will continue to do so.” There was the faintest
hint of hurt in Minuet’s voice, or maybe confusion.
“Excellent.” He stopped and met Minuet’s eyes. “I’m tired, Pet. Tired and feeling very
old. Come and bathe with me.”
“Yes, Sir.” Minuet smiled and reached up, fingers sliding beside his eyes, stroking. “You
don’t look old to me, Sir.”
Oh, oh, that felt lovely. “Thank you, Pet. That’s nice to hear.”
Minuet smiled, his presence calm and soothing. “I am being honest, Sir.”
He leaned down and took a kiss, the urge natural and real and it didn’t occur to him to
fight it until his tongue was sliding into Minuet’s lips. A low moan passed from Minuet’s mouth
to his, thick lips opening so he could deepen the kiss.
Passion flared deep inside him and he pressed deeper, tongue tasting the warm, rich
flavors that hid within this sweet gift. Minuet’s hands landed on his shoulders, not clinging or
clutching, just touching, holding. He fed Minuet a quiet rumble, hands sliding around to pull
them together. Minuet’s skin was hot, smooth, the muscles hard beneath it. Another moan was
pressed into his mouth.
“So hungry, Pet? Did Malachi not keep you satisfied?” He let one hand slide down,
fingers searching to stroke that tight hole.
“I am but one under his tutelage, Sir.” A shiver went through Minuet as his fingers
searched.
“You will be my only one.”
“Yes, Sir!” The last word was a cry as he found the wrinkled flesh he was looking for and
pressed against Minuet’s entrance.
“Mmm …” He circled slowly, pressing and testing the tight hole. “Yes, pretty.”
Minuet licked his lips, breath panting warmly against his face.
“Do you like to be fucked, Minuet? Or do you prefer toys to flesh?” He pushed harder,
his cock surprisingly stiff.
Minuet cried out, pushing back against his finger. “I like to be fucked, Sir. I like it all –
toys, flesh … oh … oh … they each have … their own advantages, Sir.”
“And are you ready for my cock?” He was purring, exhaustion forgotten. “I want you
ready at all times, slick and hot.”
“I am, Sir. Malachi said that was what you preferred.” Minuet’s pupils were large, breath
quick and eager.
He pressed two fingers in deep, groaning in approval. “Free my cock, pretty.”
Minuet’s fingers were sure and careful as they slid his zipper down and then reached in,
warm, smooth, to pull his prick from his pants. Another low moan passed Minuet’s lips, hips
pushing back, Minuet riding his fingers.
“Yes.” Oh, Minuet’s hunger was sweet and he spun the man to face the wall, shifting so
that his cockhead pressed against the tight hole. “Tell me what you need.”
“You, Sir. Fill me, please.” Minuet’s muscles quivered, hips making an aborted
movement to push back onto him.
He groaned and pulled Minuet onto his cock, hips pushing in deep, burying himself in
tight heat. Moaning, Minuet’s body rippled around his cock, squeezing him. He took Minuet
hard, panting and pushing, focused on nothing but the slide of their bodies together.
Minuet’s moans were low and deep, filling the air and sliding like a caress. Jax slid his
hands down Minuet’s arms, wrapping around the thin wrists and drawing them upward. Minuet
was pliable, moving with him as soon as the man realized what he wanted.
“Good.” Oh, so flexible, so easy in his hands. He nuzzled the back of Minuet’s neck. “So
good.”
“For you, Sir.” A shiver went through Minuet, body rippling again.
He groaned and pushed harder, growls building in his chest. Minuet pushed back against
him, the sound of their flesh slapping together loud.
“Yes, Pet. Show me what you need.” Had he ever been so taken so quickly?
Moaning again, Minuet moved with him, taking him in eagerly, wantonly.
“Such delicious hunger. I have such plans for you.”
“Oh, yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”
“Fill your sweet ass and make you fly …” He was groaning, so close. So close.
Minuet whimpered. “Please, Sir. Let me …”
“Yes, my good pretty. Come for me. Come on my cock.”
Crying out, Minuet came, ass squeezing his prick so tight. He jerked, thrusting a few
more times before exploding, head thrown back as he shot. Minuet panted, lying against the wall.
He waited until their breath slowed, then dropped a soft kiss on Minuet’s shoulder. “You
are luscious. Come now, bathe me.”
“Yes, Sir. It will be my pleasure.”
“Yes. And mine.”
He pushed away from the wall, moaning low as his cock pulled free. A shiver went
through Minuet and a soft sigh sounded. He twined their hands together, the few steps into the
bathroom seeming to take hours, energy leeching away.
Yes. A nice hot bath. A nap. A meal.
Then they could play.
Chapter Two: Beginning
Minuet had been working with Mal for several months, teaching yoga and discipline to
the subs in return for room, board and the occasional session. Mal had also promised to find a top
for him, someone well-matched.
Now having met Mr. Jax, he thought that it seemed Mal deserved his reputation. The man
was intense, sexy, and immediately Minuet had been drawn to him, had wanted to please, to be
desired. Now he was relaxed, being led into a large inviting bathroom by the man whose come
was dripping from his ass.
“Shall I draw your bath, Sir?”
Jax nodded, then frowned suddenly. “Yes, start the water. Hot. Don’t get in. I’ll be back.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He did as he’d been asked, hoping he had not offended. He enjoyed serving, to him it was
a part being a submissive, subsuming himself to another’s will.
Jax returned with a plug in his hand, shining and slick, eyes warm. “Bend over, lovely
one. You’re leaking.”
“Yes, Sir.” Oh, good, he had not offended. Indeed, he was about to be filled. Bending, he
put his hands on the edge of the tub and spread his legs, exposing himself to Jax.
“So obedient, so pretty.” Jax’s hand slid over his ass, petting gently as the plug slid in,
seating deep.
He swallowed his groan, unsure if Mr. Jax wanted to hear his sounds.
“Oh, no silence, pretty one. I want all of you. Everything.”
Oh, Mr. Jax understood, was on the same wavelength as he was. He let his groan loose.
“Thank you, Sir.”
A soft kiss brushed his hip. “You’re more than welcome, pretty gift.”
The plug wasn’t huge, but it was a nice size, keeping him stretched. “There are oils and
bubble baths here, Sir. Would you like some added to the water?”
“Yes, please. One of the oils. Something rich and not too sweet.”
He examined then and then picked one. “Spruce and leather, Sir?”
“Sounds good.” Mr. Jax was stripping, broad shoulders trailing into a tiny waist.
Oh, very nice indeed. His prick began to slowly fill as he enjoyed the view, waiting for
his orders.
“I’m going to rinse off in the shower, lovely. Can you order us something to drink –
simple, refreshing? I don’t suppose you’ve trained in massage?”
“Yes, Sir, I have.” He went to the commlink and keyed in a code to the kitchen. “Two
fresh squeezed juices, please.”
“Oh, I owe Mal a new private transport.” The water turned on, splashing and turning the
dark hair black.
He watched, admiring his new master’s beautiful body until he heard the bell on the
dumb waiter. He padded into the hall to collect their juice, and returned to the bathroom, feet
silent on the carpeted floor.
Mr. Jax was resting in the tub, head back, eyes closed and bruised. Mal had said the man
would be worn, tired, in need of care. In need of his service. “Your juice, Sir.” He spoke softly,
not wanting to startle.
“Thank you, Minuet.” Those eyes didn’t open. “Come in, please. Soak with me.”
“Thank you, Sir.” He placed the glass in Mr. Jax’s hand and his own on the side of the
huge tub and then climbed in. “Where would you like me, Sir?” Eventually he would know
Mr. Jax’s ways, his wants and needs and would not have to ask so many questions.
“I would like you to touch me, lovely. I ache.”
“Yes, Sir.” He climbed in and knelt in the middle of the big tub. Taking one of Mr. Jax’
feet, he began to massage.
“Oh …” The sound was full of pleasure, Jax sinking down further in the water.
He worked each foot and then slowly worked his way up the long, nicely muscled legs.
“Perfect. My gift.” Those legs parted, floating around him.
“Thank you, Sir.” He redoubled his efforts, sliding closer so that he could work Mr. Jax’s
shoulders.
His new master responded beautifully to him, warm eyes blinking open to watch him.
“Are you enjoying yourself, lovely?”
“Yes, Sir. It is a pleasure to serve you.”
“You have beautiful hands. Tell me about yourself, lovely one. I wish to know all about
you.”
“Yes, Sir.” He continued to massage as he spoke, working Mr. Jax’ neck, arms and
shoulders and chest. “I grew up on a farm colony and discovered at an early age that I enjoyed
men and being submissive. I was lucky, there was a stranger who recognized what I was and
brought me to New Angeles.
“I learned to know my body, to know how to please others, meet their needs. I discovered
how much of my own pleasure was tied to that.”
“And what are you searching for? Your fondest wish?” Mr. Jax watched him, blinking
slow as he touched and massaged.
He thought carefully before he answered. “Peace. Unity for body and mind.”
“How can you find it, lovely?” His face was drawn close and they shared a soft, sweet
kiss.
“Servitude, obedience, companionship.” He smiled a little. “I am still searching, Sir.”
Mr. Jax nodded. “I hope you find what you seek, Minuet. Do you have any questions for
me?”
“What do you seek, Mr. Jax?”
“Devotion. I wish for someone to want to care for me as much as I care for them.”
He bent his head and kissed Mr. Jax’s hands. “If I may be so bold, perhaps we shall find
what we seek in each other, Mr. Jax.”
Those hands cupped his face. “I would like that very much, lovely one.”
He nuzzled into Mr. Jax’s hand, looking into the dark eyes. “I am at your service, Sir.”
“You are so fine, Minuet, such a welcome gift.”
“And you, Mr. Jax, are a worthy recipient. It seems Mr. Malachi is very good at what he
does.”
“Yes. Hercules only hires the very best and Mal is the very best.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The match was indeed good. He could already feel himself beginning to care for Mr. Jax,
worrying about the heavy bags beneath his eyes. “You are tired, Mr. Jax. Is there anything I can
do to ease you, Sir?”
“I think we should nap, lovely. Take our rest together.” He received a slow grin. “If I can
manage to get up.”
Risking the tease, he reached out and stroked Mr. Jax’s cock. “I am here to serve, Sir. I
could help you get up.”
That got him a low laugh, sexy and deep. “Can you, my gift?”
He blushed. “If you desire it, Sir.”
“I desire you, Minuet.”
He wrapped his hand around Mr. Jax’s prick and began to work it into hardness. “How do
you desire me, Sir?”
“Tug me off, lovely. Kiss me. Make me feel good.”
“Yes, Sir.” He leaned forward, groaning against Mr. Jax’s lips as the plug shifted heavily.
His hand worked the hardening cock, thumb sliding across the slit and around the head,
searching for what Mr. Jax liked.
Those legs slid around him, cradled him, a low moan pressing into his lips. “Lovely.
More.”
He reached with his other hand, finding Mr. Jax’s balls. Soft, silky, lovely, he fondled
them as he pressed his thumb into the slit at the tip of Mr. Jax’s cock.
“Yes, Sir,” he murmured, the words as natural as breathing to him.
His lips were taken in a long, slow kiss, the broad body undulating beneath him. As he’d
not been given permission, he tried hard not to become aroused, but it was not easy, Mr. Jax was
sexy, felt and smelt so good.
One of Mr. Jax’s hands wrapped around his prick, moving easily. “All of you, lovely.
Don’t hide anything from me.”
“Oh!” He gasped, pushing into Mr. Jax’s hold. “Thank you, Sir.”
Moving, stroking, kissing, he lost himself in these things, in making Mr. Jax get lost in
them, too. The heat of the water rose, scented and good, adding to the experience.
“Mmm … Yes. Yes, lovely. So very good.” That voice got lower and deeper and darker,
body rippling.
Oh, how lovely. Some men were ugly in this act; Mr. Jax most definitely was not. He
redoubled his efforts, wishing only to bring his new master pleasure. Mr. Jax brought them
together, their hands twining together on their cocks, moving in time. He copied the movements
with their tongues, sliding them together. Moans pushed into his lips, sweet and low,
encouraging him to give more.
He began to move against Mr. Jax, driving their bodies together.
“Yes.” Mr. Jax arched, then rolled them, body sliding down against him, hips jerking.
The water splashed, sliding against the edges of the tub and his skin, making him cry out
as he arched up against Mr. Jax.
“Come with me.” The words were low, growled, hungry.
“Yes, Sir,” the words were whispered as his back bowed, seed pouring from him, his ass
clenching hard around the plug. An answering heat splashed over his belly, Jax’s cry fierce.
He laid back against the tub, water warm and gently moving against him as he cradled
Mr. Jax. He moaned softly, happily, hands sliding on Mr. Jax’s skin. Mr. Jax was heavy, breath
slowing, eyes closed.
“Mr. Jax, Sir? You probably shouldn’t fall asleep in the tub.” He would stay awake and
make sure his new master didn’t drown, but they would both be awfully wrinkly when they were
done.
“True. The bed looked very soft.” His master stood, swaying slightly as they stepped out
of the tub.
He slid beneath Mr. Jax’s arm, wrapping his own arm around his master’s waist. “Please
lean on me, Sir.”
Together they wandered to the bedroom, the bed huge and decadent and loaded with
pillows. “Come rest with me, lovely.”
“Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir.”
Oh, he did like this man already. Liked the way he was seen and heard, liked that Mr. Jax
wanted to sleep with him and not just fuck with him. He helped Mr. Jax into the big bed and then
climbed into it as well, pulling the covers up over them.
He was drawn into warm arms, settling them together perfectly. “Are you comfortable,
lovely one?”
“Yes, Sir. Very.”
“Good. We’ll talk more later. Rest. Feel free to go exploring, order what you will.”
“Thank you, Sir. I think for now I shall lay with you, Sir.”
He turned his head, placing a kiss on Mr. Jax’s chest and closed his eyes, listening to
Mr. Jax breathe, feeling the rise and fall of the chest beneath his cheek. In mere moments, soft
snores filled the air. He breathed with them, learning to connect his very life essence with his
new master’s.
It was a good beginning.
Chapter Three: Sleeping and Waking
He slept.
Then he slept.
When he was done, he slept some more.
Finally he worked his way up out of the mist, eyes opening to morning sun, the chrono
showing he’d slept an entire day through. Jax sat up, head pounding, mouth dry as the desert.
Damn. Angel. He needed to make sure Angel was okay.
Shit.
“Mr. Jax, good morning.” The voice was low, melodious, soothing. Minuet sat in a large
chair next to the bed, obviously waiting for him to wake.
He blinked over. Oh. Oh, his lovely gift. “Good morning, Minuet. Has Angel come
awake?”
“He has not, Mr. Jax. Hercules came last night with the Doctor and they examined him
and decided it would serve no one to have him come awake without you present and they gave
him a sedative.” Minuet looked down. “I did not wish to let them in, Mr. Jax, but it was
Mr. Hercules – the owner of the club.”
He nodded, reaching one hand out to Minuet. “Hercules is always welcome, as is the
doctor. No one else. No one without my approval.” They didn’t need any press, any stress.
Minuet nodded and came to sit by the bed, taking his hand. “Had it been anyone else, Sir,
I would have refused them. Even Mr. Malachi.”
“Perfect. Have you had a good day? I’m sorry to have missed our first day together.”
“Our first day and our first night, Sir. It is again morning.” Minuet smiled softly. “You
look rested now. Would you like some water or some juice?”
“Juice, please.” He cupped Minuet’s cheek, admiring. “You are beautiful.”
Minuet nuzzled into his touch, brown eyes warm. “Thank you, Sir.”
Then Minuet picked up a glass from the side-table and brought it to his lips. “You don’t
mind sharing mine, do you, Mr. Jax?”
“Not at all.” He drank deeply, moaning at the flavor, the cool splash on his tongue.
Minuet watched him, quiet and intense. Jax relaxed against the sheets. “Tell me all the things
you have done as I slept.”
“I slept as well, Mr. Jax, renewed my energies. I spoke with Hercules and the Doctor. I
spent some hours in meditation and I read a book. Oh!” Minuet bent his head. “I took the plug
out, Sir.”
Jax chuckled, placed one finger under Minuet’s chin so their eyes met. “I would hope so.
It would be … messy if you exploded Minuet.”
Surprise registered in Minuet’s eyes and then his gift laughed. “Yes, Sir.”
“Oh, I like your laugh. I will have to give you cause to use it often.” He winked and drew
Minuet in for a kiss.
A sweet moan pushed into his mouth as Minuet kissed him. It would be so easy to
become used to this. So easy to learn to need it. He pressed deeper, learning Minuet’s flavor, the
texture of the white teeth and hot tongue. Another moan was fed into his mouth, the dark eyes
watching him.
He rolled them, rocking them together, one hand sliding down to tease the top of
Minuet’s cleft. Minuet whimpered, pressing back into his hand.
“Mmm … Yes. Show me. More.” He nipped Minuet’s lips.
Minuet moved for him, pushing between his hand and his hips, rocking back and forth
and making sweet sounds.
“Yes. Tell me Minuet, did you come complete with your own favorite toys?” He let two
fingers slide in, pressing deep.
Minuet gasped and when he spoke his voice was rough, deep. “Yes, Sir, I did.”
“Mmm … Tell me, pretty one. What did you bring?” He rolled Minuet so he could focus
on that fine ass, free hand reaching for the side table for the lube that housekeeping provided.
Minuet spread for him, rocking back onto his knees, exposing himself. “Plugs. Dildos.
Beads. Lots and lots of beads.”
He purred, slicking his fingers and pushing three in deep, curling to find the flat gland.
“Tell me, do you like when they go in or come out?”
Minuet jumped as he found the gland, crying out. “Yes! Yes, Sir.”
“And do you like many little beads or a few big beads?” So sensual. So fine.
“Oh yes, Sir.” A shudder moved through Minuet. “Please, yes, Sir.”
He chuckled, pleased and aroused, finger fucking Minuet with sure, hard strokes. “Oh,
we will have fun together, lovely.”
Minuet just groaned, pushing back onto his fingers.
“Yes. Such a hungry little hole.” He let his pinkie slide in, stretching and spreading
Minuet wide.
Whimpering, Minuet shuddered. “Mr. Jax!”
“Yes, lovely?”
Another shudder went through his lovely gift. “Please don’t stop, Sir.”
“I don’t intend to stop, my sweet gift.” He leaned in and nuzzled Minuet’s shoulder.
Minuet kept rocking back into him, making soft, sweet sounds. He added more slick
stuff, reaching around to test the heavy erection waiting for him. Mmm. Lovely. Hard and eager
and his. Perfect.
Minuet kept moving, sliding into his hand and then back onto his fingers. He growled
softly, whispering low perversions, telling his gift of the games they would play, the things they
would do.
“Master!”
“Yes, lovely. Yes. Come for me. Show me your need.” He pushed deep, pulling Minuet’s
cock hard.
Minuet shouted, cock jerking in his hand, ass squeezing his other hand tight.
“Mmm … lovely.” So obedient. Oh, he was going to owe Mal big.
Minuet purred, arching on his hand. He leaned down, teeth scraping across Minuet’s
lower back, marking the fine skin. Minuet made a sweet sound and pushed back onto his fingers
again. He curled his fingers, scraping across Minuet’s gland. A sweet shout sounded, Minuet’s
cock jerking, still hard.
“So hungry.” He pulled his fingers free, surging up to press deep in the heated sheath that
waited for him.
“Yes, Sir!”
Minuet pushed back, taking him in, body rippling around his cock. He fucked Minuet
feverishly, pushing in again and again, slamming into the tight heat. Minuet gasped and moaned,
body open to him, welcoming him in and then clinging as he pulled out. A light sweat broke out
on the lovely, dark skin.
“So fine, pretty gift.” He bit the words out, eyes rolling as he moved.
“Sir!” Minuet’s ass squeezed hard around his cock.
“Yes. Yes, pet. Soon.” His balls were tight as stones.
“At your command, Sir.” Minuet shook, ass pushing back into him.
“Yes. Yes, Minuet.” He arched, their skin slapping together almost violently, his balls
drawn up tight.
Minuet’s ass squeezed down hard around him as his gift came, the scent of come
suddenly strong. His own body followed along, filling Minuet with his seed. His pulses were
echoed by squeezes of Minuet’s ass around him. A sweet, low moan sounded, Minuet panting for
him, pushing back against him.
“Mmm. Morning, Minuet.” He grinned against the soft, smooth shoulder.
“Good morning, Sir.” Minuet’s voice was deep and low, quite soothing.
“What can I do for you this morning, Sir?”
“Mmm. Besides that? I think food before I try to rouse Angel.” His dear boy would be
quite disoriented, he was afraid.
“What are you favorites, Sir? I will call down for them.”
“Something light and filling – my preferences are on file, Minuet.” He stroked only the
lean back, petting idly.
Minuet moved under his touches. “I will study them, sir, so that I do not have to bother
you by asking.”
“You are a dear man.” His eyes closed, everything in him relaxing, easing as he touched
Minuet.
“I wish to serve you, Sir.” He could hear the truth in the words, knew it fed a need in
Minuet.
“You are a treasure.” It had been years since someone served him, assisted him.
“Thank you, Sir.” Minuet turned in his arms, brown eyes meeting his. “Can you tell me
about Angel?”
“Angel is …” He closed his eyes, sighed. “Delicate, in a way, but also incredibly strong.
He’s controlled by his talent, think of a feather constantly being batted around by gale-force
winds and you have him. He is very tired, very ill, and he can be loud, but he is a kind man.”
“Are you lovers?”
“No. He’s too …” Difficult? Delicate? Demanding? “We’ve never felt that way about
one another. He’s my dear friend and I care for him.”
“Then I will help you to care for him, Sir.” Minuet’s fingers slid over his skin, massaging
gently.
“I pray Mal finds someone to help him for a while. I require a bit of a vacation.” Maybe
even a retirement.
“Mal is very good at his job.” Minuet gave him a warm smile, teeth so white in the cafe
colored face. “After all, he saw how good a match we could be.”
“He did.” Jax rolled over on top of Minuet, snuggling in. “He found me a sweet, needy
size queen.”
Minuet’s arms slid around him, the body beneath him rubbing up against him. “Oh, yes,
Sir. Very needy. Very size conscious.”
“You forgot very sweet.” He leaned, teeth teasing the soft skin.
Minuet gasped, arching beneath him, head going back to offer him a long, ebony throat.
“Yes, Sir. I try to be sweet, Sir.”
“Just work toward pleasing me, sweet gift. The rest will come.” He nuzzled and nibbled,
luxuriating in the sensations.
“So far pleasing you has been my pleasure, Sir.” Minuet moaned softly, hands opening
and closing against his back. “May I touch you as I wish, Sir?”
“Yes, Minuet. I have been starved for touch.”
“Oh, thank you, sir.” Minuet’s hands slid over his skin, the first pass feeling very much
like a mapping, curious rather than arousing. But Minuet’s touch didn’t stay merely curious for
long.
“Thank you, my dear gift.” He stretched out, feeling lazy and beautiful.
Minuet’s fingers slid on his skin, played at nerve centers or whenever he made noises
indicating pleasure. Eventually Minuet found his nipples, rubbing and pinching them.
“You will spoil me with pleasure.” He was already nearly in love.
“I will try, Sir.” Bending, Minuet lapped at one nipple, and then the other, tongue
swirling around the hard little bits of flesh.
Jax’s eyes closed, one hand cupping Minuet’s head. “Don’t stop, beauty. Don’t stop.
When I’ve come, we’ll find a nice, heavy plug for you. Something to fill you up through the
day.”
A shiver went through Minuet’s body. “Oh, please, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Sweet lips
wrapped back around his nipple, sucking strongly, as Minuet’s graceful fingers slid over his
belly.
“Yes. More.” His cock filled, lifting up toward Minuet’s touch.
“Will you let me taste you, Sir?” Minuet asked, dark brown eyes gazing up at him,
pleading silently.
“Yes. Learn me. Take me in.”
Thank you, Sir.” Minuet sucked his nipple one more time, and then began to lick down
along his belly, heading straight for his cock.
“You … you’re welcome, sweet gift …” Oh, that was. Yes.
He could feel Minuet’s lips widen in a smile, and then they parted, sliding over the head
of his prick, tongue coming out to flick across the tip. His entire body arched as he allowed
himself to want, to feel, to need this. Minuet’s lips opened and closed around his prick, the
touches a tease, only the heat of Minuet’s mouth a constant. Then Minuet’s tongue pushed into
his slit, fucking it as those lips wrapped tight around his head.
“Yes. Learn me. Learn me, beautiful one.” His hand cupped Minuet’s hand, encouraging
more.
Minuet’s moan vibrated his cock. And that tongue slid around the head, pushing the
foreskin back so it could taste the most sensitive skin beneath. Oh. Oh, yes. He began rocking up,
fucking Minuet’s lips, motions smooth and easy. Minuet moved with him, slowly taking in more
and more of his prick, lips tightening around him, tongue swirling and licking at him.
The fine fingered hands moved over him, warm and teasing, finding one bundle of nerves
after another. It was the easiest thing in the universe, to take that comfort offered, to take that
sweet mouth and take his pleasure. Each thrust of his hips pushed his cock deeper, until Minuet
was taking him all, accepting him deep into the back of his throat.
“Soon. Soon.” His heart was pounding furiously, head tossing.
The suction around his prick increased, Minuet’s lips holding him tight as one hand
dropped to his balls, cupping and rolling, tugging on the skin of his sac. Jax shot, pouring into
Minuet’s lips, filling the long, sweet throat with his seed. His gift drank him down; swallowing
around his cock and making his orgasm last longer.
Oh, he could learn to love this …
Jax relaxed, melted into the mattress. “Good. Very good.”
Minuet’s answer was a hum around his prick, his gift’s mouth busy cleaning his prick
most thoroughly.
“So attentive.” Every bone in his body was melted.
“Yes, Sir.” Minuet slowly kissed up along his body until his gift was lying against him,
eyes looking up at him expectantly.
“Go find a plug – large enough to stretch you, to make you need.” He smiled, took a
deep, hard kiss. “And a white cock ring. I want to see it against your skin.”
A shiver went through Minuet’s body. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
Then the lovely man slid out of bed, and walked slowly from the room, the beautiful ass
swaying with each step.
Short moments later, Minuet returned, cock at three quarter’s mast, a large silver plug
and a white leather cock ring in his hands. These were offered to him with a bow, Minuet’s head
dipping low. “I hope these are satisfactory to you, Sir.”
“They are. The ring first, I think.” Jax took the ring, leaned forward to suck just the tip of
Minuet’s cock, forcing the man to full mast. Minuet whimpered, thigh muscles going hard as
rocks, likely with the effort not to thrust into his mouth. Such a thoughtful and sweet man. He
sucked harder, pulling until Minuet moved, then he leaned back, trapping that pretty prick with
the leather. “Mine.”
“Yes, Sir.” There was a hitch to Minuet’s words, his gift’s voice quite husky. “All of me
is yours.”
“Yes. You are the most precious gift.” He kissed the leaking tip of Minuet’s cock.
Minuet moaned softly, one hand gently touching his head, the other wrapped tight around
the sizeable plug.
“Over my knees, beauty. I have a gift to give you.” He grinned, patting his thighs. Yes,
he had quite the gift for Minuet, something to fill him all day.
Minuet handed the plug over, nostril’s flaring, eyes wide and heated. With an eagerness
Jax hadn’t seen in a long time, Minuet lay across his lap, cock slipping between his legs, hot and
hard. The beautiful brown body stretched over him, feet and hands on the ground, ass pushing up
toward him.
His fingers circled that tight hole, teasing the muscles just a bit. Minuet’s ass clenched
tight and then released, a soft whimper coming from his gift. He slicked the plug, pressing it in,
fucking Minuet in short, easy strokes. Minuet’s body rose up every time he pulled the plug out,
as if trying to keep the plug inside. And each movement sent Minuet’s bound cock sliding
against his leg.
Sweet moans began to fill the air.
“You are beautiful.” He pushed the plug deeper and deeper, filling Minuet up.
Minuet danced in his lap, body undulating. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Deep breath, lovely.” He pushed the plug in deep, seating it.
That breath pushed out of Minuet along with a groan, a ripple moving its way through
Minuet’s body. “So deep.”
“Yes. Fill you up.” He stroked the spread hole, petting in slow circles.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” A soft whimper sounded as a shudder rocked Minuet’s body.
“You’re more than welcome, sweet gift.” More than.
There was a fine sweat on Minuet’s skin, making it seem to shine in the light.
He spent a moment touching, arousing, learning, then he patted Minuet’s ass. “Come,
dear one. Let’s find some food.”
This was going to work for him, he thought, and if it didn’t, he’d enjoy it while it lasted.
Chapter Four: A New Day, A New Man
The morning had been spent making love, feeding each other. Minuet had learned that
Jax was super sensitive just beneath his right tit, and that he loved the small linga berries – was
especially fond of being fed them from Minuet’s mouth.
It had been peaceful and lazy and good.
Now Jax was taking him to meet Angel.
Minuet was nervous.
Angel was very important to Jax, had been around much longer than Minuet. What if
Angel hated him on sight?
Minuet closed his eyes for a moment and took several deep breaths, focusing on the
heavy weight stretching his ass.
He opened his eyes again, and smiled at Jax. He was ready.
“Just remember, he’s very tired.” Jax opened the door, exposing the pale, painfully thin
man curled upon a low sofa. “Angel. This is Minuet.”
“Hello.” The man’s voice was beautiful, even low and husky and raw as it was.
He bowed his head and spoke softly. “Hello, Angel. It is good to meet you.”
The man nodded, eyes searching desperately for Jax. “Jaxie? Where are we? Do I have a
show?”
“No. No, sweet one. No shows. We’re somewhere to heal.”
Minuet looked to Jax and then took a step toward the slender man. “Is there anything I
could do for you? Food? A massage?”
“No.” The man scooted back a bit, frowning. “Can we trust him, Jaxie? Is he good?”
“Yes, Angel. He’s staying here, with me.”
“I am for Mr. Jax, but if he wishes it I could do whatever you wish.”
“I just want to sleep. Give me another shot, Jaxie.” He could see the effort it was taking
for Angel to hold it together.
The poor man. Minuet recognized him now – a brilliant performer. “Should I comm the
doctor?” Minuet asked Jax.
“I think so, yes.” Jax looked tired again, worried.
He leaned up and kissed the side of Jax’s mouth. “I will comm, sir.”
He went to the unit in the kitchen and asked for Doc to come up right away, and then
returned to Angel’s room to see if there was anything else he could do to ease Jax.
The man was sobbing, collapsed in Jax’s arms, clinging to Jax like he was a lifeline.
Minuet told himself not to be jealous. The man obviously needed Jax in a very different
way than he did. Still, he and Jax were new and he wanted the man to himself.
He moved from foot to foot, feeling the plug shift inside him, focusing on it.
Jax looked up at him, offered him a smile. “Is he coming?”
Minuet nodded. “He is, sir.”
He reached out and touched Jax’s shoulder, the skin warm.
Jax kissed his fingers, “Excellent. Contact Mal for me. Tell him he needs to make his
arrangements for Angel immediately, please.”
“Yes, sir.” He nodded and left the room again, trying not to feel like he’d been kicked
out.
The knock on the door stalled him on his way to the comm and he let Doc in, taking the
man back to Angel’s room.
Then he went back to the comm in the kitchen and rang Mal, waiting for the icy features
to appear.
“Yes, Minuet?” The ice blue eyes stared into him, looking right into him. “What is the
matter?”
He swallowed, the urge to kneel in front of this man always so strong.
“Jax said that I was to tell you that you must make your arrangements for Angel
immediately, please.”
He did not add the ‘sir’, that belonged to Jax now.
“Ah. Angel’s awake. All right, Minuet. I’ll send Roland up.” Those eyes pierced him.
“You must believe that you are what Jax needs, Minuet.”
It was uncanny, the way Mal always knew, could always see right to the heart of people.
He bowed his head. “Yes, Malachi.”
“Good man. Roland will be up shortly.” The comm went dark.
He wasn’t sure if he should go and let Jax know, or wait for Doc to finish with Angel.
How much did Jax want him involved with the pale singer?
Trip and Jax came out of the room together, heads together, talking together.
Minuet waited until there seemed to be a break in the conversation. “Mal is sending a
Roland up, sir.”
As if mentioning him had summoned the man, there was a knock on the door.
Trip chuckled. “Perfect timing, as always. Mal is good.”
Jax’s eyes landed on him, warming almost immediately. “Yes. Yes, he is. I owe him so
much.”
Minuet stood a little straighter and smiled at Jax, before going to answer the door.
Roland was not a top he’d met before. The man was shorter than him, but looked strong,
capable.
He had black hair that was cut very short, slightly swarthy skin, and dark brown eyes that
took in everything in a single sweeping glance. “I’m looking for Jax. Mal says he has something
for me.”
“I’m Jax.” One square, sure hand was held out. “You are?”
“I’m Roland.” Roland shook hands with Jax, and nodded at Trip. “Doc here’ll vouch for
me.”
Trip nodded. “I can verify this is Roland, yes.”
“Did Mal explain the situation to you?”
“He did.” Roland glanced over at him and Trip. “I understand that, among other things, it
is a private situation.”
“Extremely. Privacy is of the utmost importance. Angel is incredibly fragile right now.”
Jax moved to stand by Minuet, one hand sliding down his spine.
Minuet rippled beneath the touch, managing somehow not to just completely melt into
Jax.
“I’d like to see him, introduce myself. Start.”
“I’ll make sure his file is sent to you, Roland, so you’re up to date on his physical
situation. And I’m afraid I need to go. I have appointments.”
“Thank you, doc. I appreciate your help, honestly.” Jax’s fingers nudged the plug, just a
touch.
It took everything Minuet had in him, everything, just to keep from crying out, he
certainly couldn’t hide the shudder that moved through him.
One of Roland’s eyebrows went up, but Doc just chuckled, gave them both a wink and let
himself out.
“I will need complete access to Angel. This means no interference from you, Jax. If I am
to work with him, I am his top. Period.”
“I understand. I … I will admit it will be difficult for me.” The plug was jostled again. “I
imagine I’ll find things to occupy my attention.”
Minuet whimpered softly, silently begging Roland to hurry, to go.
“Yes, I imagine you will.” Roland’s eyes flicked over them again. And then he winked
slowly. Then that face was serious again, like it had never happened.
“He’s not going to like it. He’s not going to like me. But you have to trust that I know
what I’m doing. He won’t be fragile when I’m done with him.”
“Will you …” Jax sighed. “He deserves someone who will care for him …”
Roland’s back went stiff. “I do not wear my heart on my sleeve, but I can promise you
that if I meet him and discover I cannot care for him, I will withdraw myself.”
“Thank you. He’s like a son to me.”
“And he will be a lover to me. Now we must not be disturbed. I will let you know when
you can see him again. Show me his room, please.”
“He’s just been given a sedative. He’s quite exhausted.” Jax drew him along as they went
to Angel’s room. The man was unconscious, slumped in the bed, tears still streaming, even in
sleep.
Roland walked around the bed, not touching, just examining Angel. “How long has he
been sleeping? And will the doctor’s files include all the drugs he’s been on in the last six
months?”
“He’s been asleep for …” Jax looked to him. “Minuet, how long have we been here?”
“Two full days, sir.”
“Thank you, dearest.” Jax closed his eyes a moment. “He’s been asleep for nearly four
days.”
“Four days! And has he eaten in that time? And I need to know about the drugs he’s
coming off of.” Roland grumbled and pulled out a commpad, began to type into it.
“That’s in his file. He’s not been allowed anything illicit. He collapsed after his last show
and we immediately made arrangements to come here. He’s been given nutrients all along.” Jax
growled a bit, the sound rumbling through him.
“Nutrients aren’t food. And he needs to feel instead of being wrapped in cotton.” Roland
looked up at them. “And you can go now.”
Jax’s fingers curled in the small of his back. “Don’t you think I ought to explain to him
who you are?”
Minuet followed his instincts and slid his own hand over Jax’s back, offering comfort and
support.
Roland crossed his arms over his chest. “Sure. Wake him up. Tell him who I am. And
then you’ll go and I’ll show him who I am.”
“He’s just been given his shot. He won’t wake.”
“Then you can go.”
Minuet found himself bristling on Jax’s behalf. How dare this man walk in and treat his
master this way?
“You and I will have a conversation later. We will make a middle ground.”
“He doesn’t need a middle ground,” Roland shot back. “Not in the beginning. You’ll
need to trust that I know what I’m doing.”
“No, Angel may not, but two strong tops in one household?” Jax didn’t sound angry,
merely sure. “We will need one so that we can co-exist in peace.”
Roland nodded. “Indeed. There I can concur. The most important thing to remember is
that I am top of Angel, and you are top of Minuet, yes?”
“Yes.” The men stared at each other, but the tension in the air didn’t seem angry. “I have
never been Angel’s top, nor am I interested in the job.”
Something in Roland seemed to ease at that. “Good. I will be locking the door when you
go. And it will stay locked for at least twenty-four hours. I have water and will meditate until he
wakes.” A sudden smile quirked on the serious face. “Enjoy your beauty.”
“I will. I have no doubt.” Jax’s fingers drew circles in the small of his back. “I wish you
luck.”
“Thank you.”
Roland nodded again and closed the door in their faces.
Minuet looked at Jax. “I’m glad you’re not like him, sir.”
Jax smiled at him, nodded once. “Not every top works for every man. You work for me,
lovely. You ease me.”
Minuet smiled, and pressed close, his ass aching just a little from the weight of the plug.
“I’m so glad, sir.”
“Come now, Minuet. You’ve been patient all morning. Let’s have a nice soak in the tub,
just the two of us.”
He beamed at Jax. “Oh, yes, sir. I’ll draw one right away. Would you like some oils in
it?”
“Something spicy, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
They went to the beautiful bathroom together and he bent over the taps, adjusting the
water to the right temperature before going through the oils. He found one called sweet heat that
made the inside of his nostrils tingle just a touch when he breathed it in.
He put several drops into the water.
Jax stripped down, slipping into the water with a happy sigh, arms outstretched.
Minuet climbed in and settled with his back against Jax’s chest, giving a sigh of his own,
the water hot and tingly around his skin. Lying against Jax was even better.
“Thank you for your assistance today.” The words were whispered against his nape.
He shivered, the words going straight to his soul. “It is my pleasure to serve you, sir.”
He turned his face, mutely begging a kiss.
He was given it, Jax’s lips hot and firm, demanding his response.
He moaned into Jax’s mouth, hand reaching up to touch his master’s cheek. The position
was awkward and he turned himself fully, straddling Jax’s legs so that he could press their upper
bodies together.
Jax’s arms wrapped around him, fingers sliding over his skin as the kiss deepened.
He hummed and moaned over each touch, body dancing with Jax’s touches.
Each movement reminded him the plug was buried inside him, stimulating the sensitive
skin.
“Sweet wanton.” Jax kissed his jaw, his cheek. “Wash me, lovely one.”
He hummed, the word wanton making him shiver. “Yes, sir.”
He took a cloth and dipped it into the water before rubbing it with a soap that
complemented the scent of the oil in the water.
He started to wash Jax, following the cloth with his fingers, such lovely smooth skin.
Jax appreciated each of his touches, arching and moving under them, letting him hear
Jax’s pleasure.
The man was so sensual, so giving. Minuet found himself luxuriating in both those facts,
so used to Malachi’s icy calm.
He would do everything he could to make sure Jax was happy with him, to make sure he
was kept by this fascinating man.
He leaned forward, lips sliding on Jax’s shoulder, tongue coming out to dip into the
hollow of a collarbone and tasting the drops of water that collected there. He had not asked
permission, but he had not been told he could not kiss and lick his master’s fine skin, so he
risked it.
“Mmm. More.” Ah. He chose correctly.
He breathed in deeply, let the heat and scent of Jax’s skin fill him, the water and oils
adding their own flavor to it. Eyes closed, he kept tasting, licking and kissing. He wrapped his
lips around Jax’s Adam’s apple, tongue sliding around it and across it, learning the shape of it,
feeling it move against his tongue as Jax swallowed.
He lapped at the hollow right beneath it, teeth scraping for a moment as well to sensitize
the skin
Jax’s hands slid down, cupped his ass, fingers tugging and pushing at the plug. He could
feel each motion deep inside him, each jerk and movement.
He began to moan, the sound vibrating between his lips and Jax’s skin.
“Don’t come. I want to save that for me, for tonight.” Jax rolled up, rubbed against him,
fingers still working.
He whimpered softly, his cock bumping against Jax’s belly. “Yes, sir,” he said, voice
husky. He would show Jax what he was made of, what he would do to submit to Jax’s will.
“Beautiful lover. I’m going to have such joy with you.” Jax smiled at him, eyes warm.
He beamed. “I am yours to do with as you will, sir.” He cried out as Jax’s fingers jostled
the plug again and had to take several breaths to keep from coming.
“You are. You are mine.” Jax leaned in, kissed him with a fierce, sudden passion that
stole his breath.
He melted against the firm body, mouth opening to Jax, offering himself completely.
He was so focused on the kiss, so into the sensation of Jax’s tongue in his mouth, that he
wasn’t paying attention, and when Jax twisted the plug again, he came.
Gasping, he pulled out of the kiss. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, sir!”
His face was taken in long, strong hands. “Breathe. It’s new between us. This is new
between us.”
He lowered his eyes, breathing as he’d been asked. Such a simple thing he’d been asked
to do and yet he’d let himself get lost in the wonderful sensations Jax gifted him with.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated softly, the warmth of Jax’s hands so good. He didn’t want to
lose this.
Jax drew him close for a kiss. “We will bind you and you will not come again until the
morning. I will of course be under no such restraint. That should be a suitable reprimand, I
believe.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He dared to take another kiss. “I will not fail you again, sir. I
mean … I will do my best not to fail you again.”
He would not promise something he couldn’t guarantee.
“You will and I will. If there’s anything I’ve learned in life, there are missteps, there are
failures.” Jax winked. “It makes things interesting.”
He chuckled, amazed at how quickly Jax made him feel better over his mistake. “Yes,
sir.”
His hands dropped down to touch Jax’s prick, the thick heat like silk. “Would you like
me to make you come, sir?”
“You’ll be doing that quite a bit before I allow you to come again, Minuet.”
He looked up to meet Jax’s eyes, and nodded. “Yes, sir. I want to give you much
pleasure.”
He wrapped his hand around Jax’s prick, pumping slowly, feeling it slide on his palm.
Jax’s head fell back, throat working as he nodded.
Leaning in, Minuet lapped at Jax’s skin, sucking gently at the spot where the man’s neck
met his shoulder.
That earned him a moan, fingers clenching on his hips.
He flicked his tongue over the spot, thumb mimicking the motion over the tip of Jax’s
cock, the slit the only interruption in the silky skin.
Jax leaned closer, whispering sweet perversions to him, teeth teasing his earlobe.
It made his own prick jerk and begin to fill again and he gave it very firm mental
instructions. Jax would bind him when they got out of the bath and he would not be allowed to
come again until it was Jax’s will – his prick had no business taking such an interest so quickly
after coming.
And yet it did, Jax was so sexy, and the words he whispered made Minuet shiver.
He squeezed Jax’s cock harder, worked the thick cock faster, wanting to make Jax feel as
good as his master made him feel.
Soon Jax was moving, hips bucking, cock thick and pushing into his fingers.
“You are so beautiful, sir,” he noted, focusing on Jax’s pleasure, which was what he
should have been doing earlier.
“Thank … thank you. There, Minuet. Don’t stop.”
He didn’t want to stop, not at all. He wanted to make Jax feel so very good. “I won’t stop,
sir.”
His thumb slid over the top of Jax’s cock with every stroke, the oiled water making his
hand move so easily over Jax’s firm flesh.
Jax arched up, almost out of the water, seed shooting from the heavy cock.
He opened his mouth into the stream, catching some of the precious liquid in his mouth,
the flavor bursting on his tongue as his hand kept pumping, working every last drop from the
thick cock.
“My gift …” Jax’s head tossed, riding the pleasure, offering him that desire.
“Yours, sir,” he murmured, mouth sliding to nibble along Jax’s collarbone, one hand
sliding to fondle Jax’s balls as he slowed his strokes.
“Indeed. Mine and I fully intend to keep you.”
Jax would keep him. Despite his error of earlier.
He made a soft sound and pressed their lips together, offering his mouth to Jax in thanks.
Jax took the kiss, arms wrapping around him, holding him tight.
He melted against his master, and they floated together.
Chapter Five: Roland Meets Angel
Roland walked about the room. It was a typical Velvet Glove room, with slightly off-
white walls and cream furniture. There was no personality here, nothing that could give him a
single clue about its occupant. The man – Angel – was almost as pale as the sheets he lay upon.
To call the man slender would have been a kindness; he was in truth skinny almost to the point
of emaciation.
He opened his bag and took out his riding crop and his whip, placing them on the dresser
where their black and dark brown drew the eye.
Several gold tubes of lube, and two flesh colored dildos went on the side table.
It wasn’t a lot, but already the room was less cold.
He stripped and folded his clothes carefully; even he was a splash of color in this room.
Though not dark like the beautiful man Jax had with him, Roland’s skin was lightly brown.
All right. That took care of the first ten minutes.
And Angel wasn’t likely to wake for hours.
Sighing, Roland began to do push-ups.
A long time later, he sat, dozing in the cushy chair next to the bed, still waiting.
He had a gut feeling that he needed to become used to waiting.
The white eyelashes fluttered, icy blue eyes opening, rolling a bit wildly. “Jaxie?”
The poor voice was raspy, as if used until it was cracked and broken.
Roland moved to sit on the bed next to Angel. “Hello,” he said softly.
“Who … who are you?” He got a blink, a long stare. “Where’s Jax?”
He smiled reassuringly. “My name is Roland. I’ve been handpicked for you, Angel. Your
manager isn’t far, but he knew you were safe in my hands.”
Angel went still, face pale as milk. “No. No, where is Jax?”
Reaching out, he touched one pale cheek. Angel’s skin was almost cool to the touch. The
man needed to eat, to be warm again. To feel. “He’s here, in the apartment. You don’t need
him.”
“I do. You are a stranger. Jax wouldn’t do that.”
“He had me handpicked for you. And when I asked him to leave me with you, he did so.
He knows I know what you need.”
He brought his other hand up, cupping both of Angel’s cheeks now, fingers stroking
warmly over the cool skin.
The long, long fingers started fluttering, chest moving faster as Angel began to panic.
“No. No, he wouldn’t …”
He took Angel’s hands in his own, stopping the fluttering, and spoke softly, but firmly.
“For you, lovely angel, he’s done this for you. Just relax. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
“I don’t know you. Jax wouldn’t let a stranger have me.”
“I won’t be a stranger to you for long, Angel. I am here for you. This is all about you.”
He imagined Angel was used to that at least, to being the center of things.
“I don’t understand. I need Jax. I need another shot. I need to find Jax.” Angel slid out of
the bed, wobbling toward the door a few steps.
Roland sped to his side, arm going around the skinny waist, supporting Angel before the
man could fall.
“Another shot is the last thing you need, Angel. And I would let you see Jax for a
moment to reassure you, except that I fear you would spend the entire time whining and begging
and making the man feel guilty.”
“I don’t WHINE!”
Goodness, that was shrill.
“No? Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the definition of the word.”
“JAX! Jax, there’s a STRANGER with me!”
He tightened his arm around Angel’s waist. “I shall gag you if I must. And I shall cuff
you to the bed. You will deal with me.”
The scream was deafening, all the power of those performer’s lungs put to use. It wasn’t
two heartbeats before his comm flashed and Roland had to admire the fact that Jax wasn’t
barging in the door.
Roland went over and grabbed his comm. He would remind Jax of their agreement, and
then he would bind and gag Angel until the man was ready to do more than scream for his
manager.
“Jax? Everything is under control.”
“Jax! Jaxie, please, what did I do? Why are you doing this?” Angel didn’t understand,
didn’t even begin to.
“Please make sure he understands this isn’t a punishment.” Jax looked like he’d been
woken up.
“I will take care of his mind as well as his body, Jax. I promised you I would. I know this
is hard for you, and I appreciate your holding back and calling. It will be quiet soon.” He offered
Jax a smile and cut the link. Angel didn’t need to hear any more.
Grabbing a simple silk gag and cuffs, he turned back to Angel. “You heard? This is not a
punishment. I am not a punishment. I am, in fact, a gift.”
“Jax …” The name was filled with betrayal, the beautiful eyes wet.
“Jax loves you very much. He was very angry with me when I insisted that we begin our
relationship without his involvement.”
“I don’t understand.” Angel began to shake, stepping away from him, hands held out in a
warding gesture.
“You’re exhausted and a pale shadow of yourself, Angel. Let me help you rest and heal.”
He stepped forward, hand sliding along Angel’s arm, insisting on maintaining a
connection between them.
“You didn’t even tell me your name.” Angel’s skin was icy cold to his hands.
He had, but he imagined he might have to give it to Angel more than once. More than
twice. “My name is Roland. Would you like to give me your safeword?”
“I don’t want to play with you. Jax told me about his games. I don’t want to.”
“It isn’t a game for me. It is a way to live my life. A way to bring balance and peace to
you. We do not need a safeword – when you say stop, I will stop.” Angel needed focus more
than anything else, needed to connect to someone, anyone other than Jax who had indulged this
man far too much.
Angel seemed to relax. “I can go?”
“Go? Did I say anything about you – or I – leaving?”
“You said this could stop. I want this to stop. I need things to stop being confusing.”
“When you say stop, we will stop and discuss things. Nobody leaves.” He drew Angel to
the bed, so they could sit. “What is confusing you?”
“You. I don’t know you. This place is new. The sounds are new. I don’t know you.”
He could see Angel fighting to be calm, to not scream.
“The point of us being here together, right now, is so that we may learn each other. We
have all the time in the world to discover our wants and our needs and how we fit together.” He
looked around, lips pursed as he took in the colorless, bland room. “I am less than impressed
with this room myself. There is nothing of you in it. We should change that. Make it feel right.”
“I don’t understand. Did Jax hire you?”
“We are in an exclusive men’s club called the Velvet Glove. Jax has been given a
penthouse apartment. I believe there are individual rooms for all four of us, a pair of baths, a pair
of playrooms. We have privacy and time and everything we could need. I am a member of the
club. Nobody pays me. Hercules and Mal felt that I would be a good match. I read your file
provided by Jax and I agree that you and I could have a very fulfilling relationship.”
“Time …” Angel swayed, eyes going back to the door. “I wanted some time off. Jax
promised. One more show and then as much time as I needed …”
He nodded, reached out and cupped Angel’s cheek, bringing those eyes back to his face.
“We have all the time in the world, Angel.”
“I can’t … Jax is …” Angel shook his head, took a breath. “He’s here, yes?”
“He is. And once you and I have had some time to get to know each other, you’ll be able
to see him again. I felt it was important we have this time be just the two of us.”
He continued to stroked Angel’s cheek with one hand, the other sliding up and down
along Angel’s arm. He would make Angel see him, feel him, know him.
“I don’t let people touch me.” Angel was slowly warming under his touch.
“I’m not ‘people’.” And Angel would learn to crave his touch.
“You’re not?”
The question seemed honest enough.
“I’m Roland. We can discuss what you will call me, but it will not be ‘people’.” He
looked right into Angel’s eyes, holding the man’s focus.
“I need Jax.” Angel’s eyes were a pure, icy blue, so lovely.
Roland shook his head. “You need me.”
He was sure of that. He was very good at what he did, and already he felt a connection to
this pale, intense man.
“I …” The tremors started running through Angel, throat working, soft little sounds
leaving Angel’s lips.
He nodded. “Let it out, Angel. It’s safe here.”
He began to trace Angel’s body with his hands, touched each feature on the lovely face,
the too thin arms and chest.
“I need Jax. Please. Please, he takes care of me. He needs to call my doctor.”
“He indulges you.”
Leaning in he breathed against Angel’s lips, looking into the gorgeous eyes. “I will give
you everything you need.”
“Who ARE you?”
“Yours.”
The blue eyes filled with tears, the tremors just intensifying.
“I know, Angel. I know. Give it all to me.”
He pressed Angel back onto the bed and stretched out over the man, their foreheads
pressed together as they shared breath.
The tears started falling, Angel panting and shivering, hands opening and closing against
the sheets.
He pressed kisses over Angel’s face, but made no attempt to stop the tears. Murmuring,
softly, he encouraged Angel to let go of it all.
Angel’s eyes closed, the slender body relaxing. “Jax knows you’re here?”
“He does. You’re safe, cared for. It’s all good.” He pressed more soft kisses on Angel’s
face, the pale skin smooth – the man must have been perma-shaved.
“Swear it. Tell me what he said?” Angel’s breath came slower, easier.
“He wasn’t very happy, really. Oh, he was happy I came, that I am what you need, but I
insisted that he had to leave us alone and he didn’t want to do that. He said that you were
precious and it was only after I assured him I would take great care of you and insisted
completely, that he let himself be pushed from your side.”
He slid his hand along Angel’s chest and belly, slowly acquainting himself with Angel’s
form. “He cares for you very much.”
“He does. Did you meet his lover?”
“I did. Beautiful man. The color of chocolate. You’ll meet him when we’ve settled.”
When Angel was stronger.
“I met him. Jax came and helped me. He brought the doctor. I need my medicine.”
Angel relaxed for him, the tremors beginning to ease. Good.
“You need food, and water, and natural sleep.”
His hand settled over Angel’s belly.
“I can’t sleep. I can’t. I haven’t. I have to work …” Angel’s stomach growled, vibrating
his hand.
“You’re on vacation. What’s your favorite food?” He kept his voice casual, hand petting.
“Grapes. I like them frozen.”
“Mmm … I could feed them to you one at a time.” He slowly circled Angel’s navel with
his finger.
“Did Jax get us something to drink?”
“I’m sure he did. I’ll have food and drink brought to us. And you will eat. And you will
drink. And then you will sleep and I will still be here when you wake up.”
He pressed a kiss to Angel’s lips and slid off the bed to grab his comm. “Jax? Could you
have some frozen grapes and water delivered to the door, please?”
Jax chuckled, nodded. “I’ll have Minuet make an order. If your rooms are set up like
mine, there is bottled water in the playroom.”
“Excellent. Just knock and leave the tray at the door.”
He signed off and went through the door at the far end of the room, easily finding the
bottled water. Taking two, he didn’t take the time to look around; there would be plenty of time
for that when he and Angel could explore it together.
Angel was back up off the bed, comm in hand. “… please answer me, Jax. Just tell me
this is real. My head hurts …”
“He won’t interfere,” Roland murmured softly.
“He is my manager! He has to!” The tears were flowing again, Angel shaking the comm.
“Please, Jaxie. I just need to know this is okay. I just need you to tell me this is real.”
Roland tried not to growl, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation any right now, but he
was Angel’s top. Jax was the man’s manager, friend, perhaps only real companion for the gods
only knew how long, but Roland himself was the one who would give Angel what he needed.
He took the comm from Angel. “I am real, Angel. And I’m going to prove just how real.”
“Jaxie! Jaxie, PLEASE!” There was true panic in Angel’s voice, an utter, betrayed fear.
Roland could hear Jax beginning to respond to that voice, instinctively needing to
comfort Angel.
He turned the comm right off and tossed it at his bag, and then stepped close and wrapped
his arms around Angel. “Shh. Shh, Angel-love. Focus on me.”
“Why won’t he answer me?”
“Because he knows that you must learn to trust me. To turn to me when you need.”
Angel’s skin was cool again, and Roland rubbed his hands over the man’s skin.
“I don’t know you! He wouldn’t leave me with a stranger!”
Angel’s eyes caught sight of the bottle of water and he saw a flash, then Angel headed for
the drink.
Blinking, he turned and watched as Angel grabbed the bottle. “I keep telling you that I’m
not a stranger.”
“I don’t know you.” Angel gulped down the water like a parched man, long throat
working.
“You will,” he promised, grabbing the second bottle. He’d let Angel have most of it, but
he wanted a few sips himself first. “My name is Roland, and I’m here for you.”
“Everyone wants something from me. Everyone. I’m so tired.”
Roland shook his head and took a few good gulps of his water before handing the bottle
over now that Angel’s was quite empty. “I don’t want anything from you.” It wasn’t strictly true,
but what Roland wanted was everything and not at all what Angel had been talking about.
“Thank you.” Angel drank the rest of the water down, swaying a little as he drained the
bottle. “My head hurts.”
“Yes. You’re dehydrated and starving. Not to mention coming down off whatever uppers
you were on to do your shows, and then the sedatives you were taking to sleep. We’ll work
through it and you’ll come out of it feeling stronger.”
There was a soft knock on the door. “That’ll be our food.”
“Will Jax bring it?”
“No, they’ve left it at the door. I’ll pick it up in a moment. When I’m sure you’ve calmed
down again.”
The last thing Angel or Jax needed was for Angel to start crying out again, or worse,
attempting an escape.
“Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?”
Angel wandered away from him, heading for the window to peer out.
He sighed and shook his head. “No. Not at all. I’m here for you.”
He went to the door and unlocked it, picking up the tray that had been left there.
On the tray was a big bowl full of frozen grapes, two carafes of juice, and a plate with
little sandwiches. Roland almost laughed – he did believe they were cucumber ladyfingers.
“For me?” Music filled the air, Angel wandering about the room, exploring.
The man moved with an innate sensuality, like a very skinny – and hairless – cat. “A tray
full of your favorites – it would be cruel if it were just for me, wouldn’t it?” He smiled at Angel
and placed the tray in the middle of the bed. “I hope you won’t mind if I share though. The juice
looks fresh squeezed.”
“I don’t mind.” Each closet was opened, searched through. The pale robe was taken off, a
midnight blue outfit slipped on.
This sudden activity certainly beat the shaking and crying.
Roland popped a grape into his mouth. It was cold and sweet, like a little explosion of
flavor. “These are good.” He sounded as surprised as he felt.
Angel nodded. “They are.”
Then Angel disappeared into the bathroom, the door sliding closed.
Oh, no. He didn’t think so.
There was no privacy between them. Especially not right now.
He went over and knocked so Angel knew he was there, then slid the door open again.
“You can’t hide from me, Angel.”
Those icy eyes looked at him from under the mass of snow white hair, hands under the
running water. “I closed the door.”
“It’s not allowed. I won’t watch you piss, but the door stays open.”
“No. I closed the door.” That mouth was set in a stubborn line. “I need my privacy.”
“There is no such thing between us, Angel.”
He imagined Angel wasn’t going to like this one bit.
“No.” Angel came up to him, trying to push him out the door. “I just need a minute.”
Roland crossed his arms over his chest and stood his ground there in the doorway. “No.
We do it my way.”
“No. Get out. I need a minute.”
“Absolutely not.”
He stared right at Angel.
Angel looked at him in utter shock, then a furious scream rang out, the sound shrill and
sharp.
He blinked, but otherwise kept his body still, refusing to react. “Don’t make me gag
you.”
“I want out of here! I WANT OUT!” The sound got louder and then louder, then it
stopped like someone turning off a switch.
When the sound stopped, he heard Jax’s voice, ringing out. “He’ll destroy his voice,
Roland. His vocal cords are damaged.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he called back.
He grabbed Angel’s arm and tugged him over to where he’d left his bag. “Did you hear
the man?” he asked as he pulled out a simple gag.
Angel’s mouth was moving, odd sounds coming out as tears streaked the pale face. Angel
pulled away from him, arms flailing.
Gag in hand, he wrapped his arms around Angel again, stilling the man. “I won’t use the
gag if you promise me no more screaming. Nod if you understand and agree.”
Angel kept talking, not a word escaping. The poor man was so goddamned confused, so
lost and stoned and scared.
Roland sighed, his heart going out to the man. If there was an easier way to do this, he
would, but jumping into the deep end was the best way.
He kept Angel wrapped in his arms and brought their mouths together, tongue slipping in
between Angel’s moving lips, making the kiss deep and sure.
Angel went still, eyes wide, staring at him in pure shock.
Oh, now he had the man’s full attention.
He kept kissing Angel, kept holding the man, kept that focus squarely on him.
Angel began to relax, if not respond, lips softening, letting him in to taste, to learn.
He tilted Angel’s head, his tongue pushing in deeper, looking for the true flavor of Angel
beneath the pain and the pills.
Angel was so thin, incredibly close to just floating away, he could feel it. The man
needed to be grounded.
He began to move them slowly toward the bed, letting one kiss slide into another.
Angel followed, so caught in the kiss that he never even tensed.
He sat slowly, drawing Angel down with him.
The blue thing Angel had put on was silky soft, but he wanted skin, so he slipped one
hand between the buttons.
Angel blinked, staring, shivering.
Roland hummed softly, working the buttons open one at a time. His fingers stroked
gently, his tongue working the inside of Angel’s mouth.
He reached over, grabbed a single grape and slipped it between their lips. Angel groaned,
tongue sliding over the icy grape.
He used his own tongue to snatch it back and then let it roll back into Angel’s mouth,
teasing and playing as the grape warmed.
He thought Angel laughed, sucking the grape, eyes closing.
When there was only the memory of the grape, the hint of flavor on their tongues, he
popped in another one.
Angel hummed, relaxed and quiet beneath him, focused on the grape, on the kisses.
He fed Angel one grape after another, stealing several himself. It felt good, felt like the
beginning of a connection.
After far too few, Angel shook his head, lips pursed, eyelids beginning to droop.
He stroked Angel’s face, conceding that he’d gotten as much water and food into the man
as he was going to.
“It’s okay, Angel-love. Sleep.”
Angel nodded, one hand sneaking around his waist and squeezing.
He smiled, surprised at how good the simple gesture felt.
He kissed Angel gently. “Sleep.”
The beautiful man curled up into himself, falling into a deep sleep.
Roland spent some time just watching Angel sleep, the dark smudges under Angel’s eyes
making it look as if he’d been punched in the face.
Sighing, he went over to the comm and punched in the code for Jax.
It took a moment, then Jax (who looked nearly as tired as Angel did, surprisingly)
answered. “Roland.”
“I thought you’d want to know he’s all right. He’s eaten and now he’s sleeping on his
own.”
“Thank you. We’re … he’s completely exhausted.”
“He is, but he’s sleeping now. You can rest easy, Jax. We’re all going to be just fine.”
“We are. Do you have any questions?”
“How long has his throat been a problem?”
“I found out about it two concerts ago. He’s been augmenting his voice with hype-sprays
and nanotechs; it’s destroying him.”
Jax sighed, stretched. “I got him out as soon as I could reroute us here without being
followed.”
Roland winced. “That’s dangerous stuff. He might never sing again. Are you prepared for
that?”
Angel certainly wasn’t, but if Jax was more interested in a healthy singer than getting rich
off Angel, it would make things easier.
“I would hate for him to lose that, but professionally? I’ve been begging him to retire for
over a year. I’m ready to settle, to enjoy my life.”
“He’ll want that too, Jax. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
He offered Jax a smile – after all, the man had stayed away and let him do his thing. He
was impressed.
“You look like you could sleep almost as long as Angel. I’ll leave you to it.”
“If you need me, I’m here.”
“Thank you, Jax.”
He turned the comm off and went back to bed. He watched Angel, skin the color of ice in
the blue outfit.
Then he climbed in on the other side, closing his eyes and taking his own rest.
Chapter Six: Roland and Kisses
He dreamed about the lights, about performing, the crowd screaming, the synstrings
thrumming all around him.
He sang and sang, the crowds pulling the sounds out of him, pulling the energy out of
him, the blood.
Angel groaned, thrashing on the sheets, skin dripping, blood pouring over the stage, over
his hair, filling his ears and mouth.
When he opened his mouth to scream, one of the people in the crowd pushed a hand into
his mouth, stretching his throat.
Hands wrapped around his arms and shook him. “Wake up, Angel.”
Jaxie! Jaxie, help me! He tried to scream, tried to reach for the one constant thing in his
life.
“Angel! Wake up! It’s a nightmare.” All of a sudden lips pressed against his own, the kiss
demanding his focus.
His eyes flew open, the nightmare disappearing with a pop. Oh. Oh, the man. Roland.
The man that was here for him.
Brown eyes smiled into his own, the kiss continuing, deepening as Roland’s tongue
pushed into his mouth.
Those kisses were … They made him dizzy, made him forget Jax and nightmares and
singing.
It was slow and easy, but intense at the same time, and Roland didn’t seem like he was
going to stop any time soon.
Then one of Roland’s hands slid over his belly, stroking his skin.
Angel wasn’t sure what he thought of that. He wasn’t in the practice of letting anyone
touch him, except Jax, but it felt good.
Their lips parted slowly, Roland smiling down at him. “There. That’s better.”
He tried to answer, nothing but a squeak coming out. Oh. Oh, no. He needed … There
was hype-spray in his trunk.
He rolled up, needing to find it, fix himself.
“Where are you going?” Roland asked, hand sliding around his arm and tugging him
back down onto the bed. “I think maybe we need a new rule. No speaking. If you have
something you want to say, you can raise your hand and I’ll give you permission to
communicate.”
No. No, no rules. Angel didn’t have rules. He was a star, galaxy-wide. This man didn’t
understand. He needed his spray.
He tried to explain, tried to make himself clear.
Roland shook his head, fingers covering Angel’s mouth. “No speaking. Your throat needs
time to heal.”
No, his throat needed the hype-spray. He slid out from under Roland, heading for a
closet. He’d show the man.
Roland followed him, staying close enough he could feel the heat of the man.
He found his little chest, started digging for the hype-spray. It numbed everything, made
things work, made things stop hurting.
Roland watched, but when he found the hype-spray and pulled it out the man shook his
head. “No. None of that. Do you have anymore secreted away?”
That was his!
He frowned, stamped his foot and held out his hand.
Roland chuckled – chuckled!
“No more hype-spray. No drugs. You’re going clean.”
Excuse him?
He grabbed his little bag, held it to him. Those were his.
Roland began to pry the bag out of his hands. “I won’t throw it out, but you can’t have it
now. We’ll give it to Jax. He’ll keep it for you.”
He held tighter, shaking his head. They were his. His.
“Angel.” Roland’s voice was low, and it commanded attention. “Give me the bag.”
Angel frowned, fingers almost letting go. What the fuck was he doing?
“You don’t need it, Angel. Let go.”
Roland’s fingertips slid across his cheek. “You don’t need it.”
His skin tingled, fingers loosening. He did. He needed.
The bag slipped out of his hand as Roland tugged on it, while the fingers on his cheek
continued to stroke. “I know what you need and it’s not this.”
‘My throat hurts.’ He said the words, but they wouldn’t come out.
Roland must have read his lips, because the fingers on his cheek slid down to warm the
skin of his throat.
“You need a distraction.”
No. He needed a bit of the spray.
Although that touch was a comfort.
His little bag was tossed over Roland’s shoulder and the man’s lips pressed against his,
warm and soft.
Honestly, the man was very invested in kisses.
Angel stepped forward, drawn to that heat. He was going to have to tell Jax that …
That …
The kiss caught his attention, beginning to warm him.
A hum vibrated into his mouth with Roland’s breath, warming his throat from the inside.
Oh.
Oh, that felt.
Oh.
Angel stepped back, gasping. He could get lost in this man. He couldn’t afford to get lost.
“Where are you going?” Roland asked, hands going to his waist and tugging him back in.
“I can’t.” He couldn’t do this. He needed his space, distance.
Roland put his back against the door of the closet and leaned in against him, body so
warm against him, even as the wall leached his own heat.
“You don’t have anywhere to go, Angel. It’s just you and me for as long as we need.”
No. No, he had to perform. He had dates. Roland didn’t understand. He tried to explain,
near screaming in frustration when his voice refused to work.
Roland shook his head, hand over his throat again. “Stop trying to speak or you’ll do
yourself permanent injury. I will use the gag if I have to.”
He threw his hands up in a moment of sheer fury. Why wasn’t this man
COOPERATING? Where was Jax? Where was he? What the fuck was going on?
Roland just grinned at him. “You’re very used to having your own way, aren’t you?”
Those lips pressed against his again, this kiss surprisingly – disappointingly – short.
“You’re going to have to learn to obey, Angel-love. I’m the one in charge here.”
No.
No, he was the one that worked for hours and hours. He was the star. He didn’t obey. He
worked.
No.
He just needed to make the man understand, so he headed for the spray. He only needed a
few minutes; he could explain.
Roland didn’t let him go, hands latching onto him and tugging him over to the bed again,
pulling him away from the little bag that had been tossed so cavalierly into a corner of the room.
“Are you always this stubborn?”
Of course he was. No one made it in his business if they weren’t.
Roland began to strip him out of his blue lounging suit, fingers warm and sure, the man
between him and the damned hype-spray.
He blinked, stared. What was. He. This.
Angel grabbed his shirt, covering himself up.
“There’s no need for modesty between us, Angel. I’m standing here as naked as can be.
Time to even things out between us.” The shirt was taken back, tossed over Roland’s shoulder to
sail down until it settled next to his bag of goodies.
He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. He wasn’t modest. The world had seen
him in less. He was chilled.
Worried.
Unnerved.
Roland tugged the trousers down as well, letting the soft material fall down his legs to
pool around his feet. “You’re skinny,” Roland told him. “It’s time for more food.”
Angel shook his head, heading for the bed and the covers. He wasn’t hungry.
“You enjoyed the grapes we shared last night.” Roland’s voice was even, the man going
to the door and opening it, bending to pick up a tray that had been left.
He had. He curled up in the blankets, cheek on the pillow. The bed smelled good, warm.
Like men and comfort.
Roland brought the tray over. “More juice. Water with lots of bits of ice. Frozen chunks
of papaya, and what I think is cream cheese on little crackers.”
He reached out, took a piece of bright orange papaya, moaning as the tart fruit melted.
Leaving the tray a moment, Roland went to the little control panel next to the door. The
lights were dimmed and the sunscreen coating on the windows was lightened, letting the natural
light in. And the room began to warm slightly.
“You must let me know when you’re cold, Angel. I have a high tolerance for it and I’d
hate to put goose bumps on that smooth skin.”
He blushed, the kindness unexpected and appreciated. He hadn’t spent time alone with
anyone but Jax in years.
Roland sat cross-legged on the bed next to him, the man’s legs lightly haired, as was his
chest, a darker patch trailing into the thick curls that crowned his cock. Roland seemed quite
unconcerned with his nakedness, and equally unconcerned by the heat.
Two glasses of juice were poured, Roland offering him one before swallowing down half
a glass, throat working.
Angel reached out, finger sliding through the curls on Roland’s chest. Soft.
Roland watched him. “Very different from your own smoothness, isn’t it?”
He nodded; people wanted smooth and pale and thin.
“Do you like it?” Roland asked, reaching out to slide the fingers of one hand against him,
echoing his touches.
‘I do. It’s soft.’ He sighed as the words refused to come out. He was so tired of this
already.
“I’m not a lip reader, but I can tell you said ‘I do’. You could also nod or shake your
head. And I suppose I could arrange for you to have a commpad so you can communicate more
than just yes or no, although there are many positive ramifications to keeping you mute.”
Roland picked up one of the little cream cheese crackers and held it out to him.
Keeping him mute?
Keeping him MUTE?
He snarled and slapped Roland’s hand away, heading for the door before the tears could
start. Jax would have to find someone else. Or he would just leave. There wasn’t a hotel in this
sector that wouldn’t welcome him.
Not one.
Roland sighed. “And we were getting along so well.”
He was stopped at the door, Roland pressing up hotly against his back. “You are in
danger of losing your voice if you attempt to use it, Angel. I am merely looking at ways of
turning that into a positive for us.”
Angel sobbed, head resting against the door. Tired. So tired.
“Oh, Angel-love. Have you not cried enough yet?” He was drawn back against Roland,
strong arms coming around him, holding him so that he felt cradled against the man.
He didn’t think he’d ever be done crying. Ever.
Of course, the tears dried quickly, his body relaxing and soaking up Roland’s strength
and heat.
Roland’s hands started to move on him, sliding against his skin in warm sweeps from
shoulders on down.
“Mmm … better.” Warm lips slid against his skin, moving his hair away to nibble at the
side of his neck.
His sigh was deep, pleased, the sensations comforting.
The sweeping touches continued, and it was awhile before he realized that a part of
Roland’s body was growing quite firm, the man’s cock pressing hard and hot along his ass.
And yet the sweet, gentle touches and nibbles continued as they had before.
Angel decided to ignore Roland’s erection. He wasn’t ready to think about sex, yet. He
simply wanted to feel for a moment.
Roland seemed happy to ignore it as well, and they stood together, Roland warming him,
soothing him, touching him everywhere the man could reach.
All of the tension flowed from him and, when Roland began to move him back toward
the bed, he followed, simply too melted to resist.
Roland settled him on his side on the bed, and stayed behind him, supporting him even
lying down.
Once again a cracker with cream cheese was held out for him.
He leaned forward, took it with his teeth and ate it, the cool creaminess of the cheese
contrasting nicely with the crunch and salt of the cracker.
Roland continued to feed him, alternating crackers and cheese with the frozen fruit. The
fruit was slowly thawing, the taste changing slightly as it warmed.
“That’s it. You need to regain your strength.”
He nodded, surprising himself by agreeing. Perhaps he should relax for one more day.
Rest.
He could work tomorrow.
“Mmm … good.”
Roland placed a kiss on his shoulder, and slipped another piece of fruit into his mouth.
Angel took it, lips wrapping around the thick fingers for a minute.
Humming, Roland placed another kiss against his skin, fingers lingering, rubbing his lips.
He sighed contentedly, feeling like something treasured, like a real person and not a
celluloid image on a screen.
When he’d had his fill, Roland finished up what was on the tray and set it on the floor
before lying back and drawing him once again along the strong body.
Really, he should shower. Make some plans. Talk to Jaxie.
He snuggled in, moaning softly.
“We fit well together,” murmured Roland, hands wandering over his skin again like they
had before.
Who was this man? He forced himself to whisper. “Did Jax hire you?”
“In a way, yes.”
A finger slid beneath his chin, tilted his head up, Roland finding his gaze and holding it.
“I’m here for you and no one else.”
“Why?”
“You don’t remember discussing this last night? I’ve read your file. We’re a match. I’m
looking for someone to be my own instead of one of the club subs.”
Their mouths met in a soft kiss. “You intrigue me, Angel-love. And I know I can help
you.”
He tilted his head, fingers moving on Roland’s skin. “What does it say about me?”
His throat burned.
“It says you shouldn’t talk.”
He shook his head, laughing.
Roland’s soft chuckles were a great sound, even if there was a rough edge to them, as if
rusty.
“It says that you work too hard. That you’re exhausted. It says that you need someone to
top you in the bedroom, possibly beyond.”
It was odd, having someone know personal things about him. “Your file?” He whispered.
It was only fair.
Roland’s laughter stopped, his face growing serious again. Then he nodded. “Yes. I’ll
arrange it.”
Angel nodded. Yes. That was fair. “Tha …” His voice gave out again, the whisper
disappearing.
“You see? No talking. I’ll arrange for a handpad for you to type into. Jax will have my
hide if I let you ruin your voice.”
Yes, Jax would hate to lose him, his income. Although that wasn’t fair, Jax had told him
again and again that he could retire.
The hand moving on his back slid down to his ass, curling around it as Roland tugged
him closer. He could feel the soft hairs on Roland’s body rub against his own smooth skin.
It felt good. He snuggled in, refusing to think about anything too deeply.
“You feel good,” murmured Roland, hand squeezing his ass. “This is going to work
well.”
He looked up, mouthed. “How long?”
How long could he stay and rest?
“How long will it work well? For a very long time, I hope.”
Roland brought their mouths together and gave him another long, drugging kiss. “For a
very, very long time.”
Angel wasn’t sure what to think about that, so he didn’t. Not yet.
Later. He’d think later.
Chapter Seven: Roland Watches Angel, Among Other Things
As Angel slept, yet again, Roland wondered how much of it was Angel needing sleep,
and how much was Angel hiding from him.
He also had a commpad delivered, complete with a copy of his file on it. There was a
little fridge in their room now with juices, water, frozen fruit, fresh fruit, and a few other little
delicacies. And on the wall over the bed was a huge canvas with brilliant reds and blues, the
color electric and shocking in the cream and white room.
He’d wait for Angel’s input for more changes, but he just couldn’t take the lack of color,
the lack of personality a moment longer.
By the time the sun was setting in the sky, he was back in bed – he wanted Angel to wake
up in his arms. Angel shifted, frowned, dreaming again. Then Angel pushed close to him,
rubbing against him and relaxing. Already in his sleep, Angel not only gravitated toward him,
but unconsciously sought him for comfort. Excellent.
Roland hummed and ran his hand over Angel’s back.
Angel’s eyes opened, looking panicked for a moment, then relaxing. So pale, so thin, it
was like Angel burned from pure energy.
“Good evening, Angel-love.” He wasn’t sure when he’d started using the endearment. It
wasn’t his way, but it flowed naturally off his tongue with Angel.
Angel tried to answer, croaking softly and wincing. Those icy eyes searched for the little
bag with those brutal, dangerous drugs.
“No speaking,” he reminded Angel softly. He reached over to the little bedside table and
snagged the commpad, handing it over. “You can use this to communicate – type in what you
want to say.”
Angel typed quickly, slender fingers flying. “Good evening. Do you know when I have to
leave? Do you know who has my schedule? Do you know where exactly this place is?”
“So many questions – you must be feeling better.”
He looked at the questions again. “You don’t have to leave. Jax cancelled the rest of your
tour. I believe he intends for you to retire. Or at least take a few years off. And this is the Velvet
Glove, an exclusive men’s club. Very exclusive.”
The comm fell with a plop, Angel going snow white.
“Angel?” He picked up the comm and put it into Angel’s hand, curling the man’s cold,
nerveless fingers around it. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Angel’s hands shook, the words coming slower. “Retired? I can’t. I have to perform. I
can’t not perform.”
“All right, let’s call it a leave of absence.” The details were between Angel and Jax.
“I’m scared. I need Jax. I need a shower. I need to get out of here.” Angel caught sight of
the painting, getting distracted from his typed tirade.
“A shower sounds good.” He nodded at the painting. “Do you like it? I thought the room
needed more color.”
Angel nodded, almost smiling, eyes moving as Angel took it in.
“Me, too. I’d like to see more personal touches in here. Your touches.”
Angel stood up, swaying a little bit before heading to the console, music filling the air.
The beat was driving, but the melody was light, ethereal, lovely.
“Is this you?” he asked.
Angel nodded, smiled, Angel’s voice sounding. Raw and rough, aching with need and
latent sexuality – the sound made him hard.
He could only imagine hearing that in person. Perhaps one day he would. “You’re
amazing.”
Angel bowed, tossed his head, hair flowing. The action was practiced, professional,
completely unnatural.
Roland snorted and went over to Angel.
He grabbed Angel’s head in his hands, tilted it and took a hard kiss.
He took a step back. There was a slightly glazed look in Angel’s eyes, the man’s lips red
and ever so slightly swollen. There. That was better.
Angel reached out for him, fingers skittering over his belly.
He wrapped his hand around the back of Angel’s neck and stepped forward again. Their
lips met again, his tongue pushing in eagerly.
For the first time, Angel kissed him back, tongue sliding against his, lips parted and open
and eager.
A shudder moved through him, his cock throbbing. There was no doubt he was very
attracted to Angel.
He spread Angel’s mouth wider, taking the kiss deeper.
Angel rubbed against him, cool and smooth, the sensation almost slick.
The music throbbed through him, Angel’s voice sensual and sexy, the man in his arms
even more so.
His hands found Angel’s ass, the round cheeks fitting in his palms.
Those ice-blue eyes stared at him, the dazed look slowly heating.
He knew there was passion there, could hear it in the song that filled the room, and he
deepened the kiss further, eager to draw that passion out.
Angel’s hands traveled up his arms, fingers cool on his over-heated skin.
He moaned softly, looking to encourage the touches, wanting more.
He got more, soft touches to his shoulders, his face, his jaw.
Angel was a good kisser, now that he was participating, their tongues tangling, stroking
each other, playing in his mouth, in Angel’s, the kissing moving and dynamic.
Married to the touches was the sound of Angel singing, and he was harder than he’d been
in a long time.
Angel stepped close, their bodies rocking together for a moment before Angel stepped
back.
He didn’t push it, not yet, but he wanted to, wanted so many things.
He licked his lips, watching Angel’s face.
Angel’s eyes followed the motion of his tongue, sweet swollen lips parting.
“You want more, Angel-love? Do you want to taste me again?”
“I could lose me in you.” He couldn’t hear the words, but he understood them,
understood the desire and the anxiety and the need.
He nodded. “It’s safe,” he whispered, leaning in a little before stilling, waiting for Angel
to meet him halfway.
Angel vibrated – visibly vibrated – until suddenly, in a rush of energy, the slender body
launched into his arms.
He stayed his ground, arms wrapping around Angel as he caught the man and held on
tightly.
This was the beginning. Not when he first saw Angel’s file, not when he first saw Angel.
Not the awkward starts and stops of the last days, but this with Angel choosing to be here.
Angel’s kiss was wild, fierce, demanding and heated and filled with an icy passion.
He met Angel’s passion head on, mouth open, accepting Angel in.
He grabbed Angel’s ass and started walking backward toward the bed.
Like a switch had been turned on, Angel’s desire just bloomed over him.
Groaning, he tugged Angel down onto the bed, starting them side by side, letting the
kisses take their course. Deeper and longer, their kisses broke only for gasping breaths, their
tongues keeping contact even then.
Angel groaned and whimpered, bucked and touched, refusing to go easily or quietly.
Each sound made his cock throb, and soon he rolled them, putting Angel beneath him, the
slender body heated now.
Angel arched, fighting him a little. Pushy little bottom.
He wrapped one of his legs around Angel’s, holding them still as he plundered Angel’s
mouth, taking the kiss now instead of sharing it.
Angel groaned, bucking up against him, heart pounding against his chest.
He could feel the long, thin cock, hard against his hip and he rubbed their lower bodies
together, grinding against Angel.
Angel’s eyes were wide, searching his.
He took hold of Angel’s hands and drew the slender arms up over Angel’s head. “Just
feel.”
Angel looked up, hands opening and closing, testing his grip, just a bit.
Roland nipped at his chin, squeezing Angel’s hands just a little. “I said feel.”
Then he brought their mouths together again, tongue pushing into Angel’s mouth.
Angel groaned into his kiss, finding his rhythm, moving under him almost like he was
dancing.
The bass beat thumped, driving his hips.
He could feel the pleasure building to a crescendo, his balls pulling up.
Angel bit his bottom lip, the sensation stinging just enough.
He growled a little and nipped at Angel’s upper lip. “That’s not feeling,” he murmured,
trying not to smile.
One eyebrow arched, the icy blue eyes challenging him as Angel mouthed, “No?”
“No. But I didn’t say you couldn’t, so …” Not to mention the bite had sent a jolt through
his spine.
“I didn’t ask.” He got another bite, this one sharper.
“You didn’t. You shouldn’t be asking now. No talking. You can’t bite if I have to gag
you.”
He ground down harder and bent to nip at Angel’s earlobe.
“Roland!” He almost heard that, Angel jerking and coming, heat spraying over his belly.
The scent was hot and the friction gave way to slick sliding. Angel’s come coated his
cock. “I want you,” he growled, reaching down to touch Angel’s entrance.
Angel nodded, spreading for him. He knew Angel wasn’t a virgin, wasn’t a stranger to
casual sex.
This wasn’t casual though. Not for a moment. He gathered more come from Angel’s
belly, rubbing it against Angel’s hole before slipping a finger inside.
Angel’s eyes got heavy-lidded, body bearing down and taking him in before begging for
more.
Oh, yes. A pushy bottom maybe. A stubborn bottom definitely. But a bottom nonetheless.
A sweet slut of a bottom.
He pushed a second finger in with the first. One day, when the trust had grown between
them it would be his hand.
His lips were taken in another kiss, Angel moving quickly on his fingers, working with a
dogged determination.
He pushed a third finger in, Angel’s body tight and grasping. “Wanton.”
Angel nodded, throat working, mouth moving. He couldn’t hear, but he thought Angel
was telling him secrets, telling him important things. He knew he saw the word ‘empty’ and
‘need’ and ‘lost’.
He found Angel’s gland, bumping against it with his fingertips. “I’ll fill you, Angel. Over
and over and over again.”
Those eyes went wide, shocked, Angel caught in sensations.
It was a great look for Angel, one that he would wager not many people saw. From now
on it was his.
He let his fingers slide away, and lined his prick up with the hot little hole.
Heat surrounded him, Angel driving up to take him in deep, fucking furiously.
The need was amazing. Astounding. This was the passion that poured from the music,
that filled Angel’s voice as he sang.
He thrust hard, taking control back.
The pale skin flushed a warm rose, Angel giving himself over to the passion completely,
utterly.
Roland thrust harder, pushed faster, working hard until they were both breathless.
Angel reached down, grabbing the thin cock, tugging almost violently.
“I didn’t,” he groaned as Angel’s body went even tighter around him. “Didn’t say you
could.”
Angel smiled, whispered. “I didn’t ask.”
He chuckled, the sound husky and breathless. “Shh. No talking.”
He wrapped his own hand around Angel’s, squeezing and guiding the strokes.
That earned him a moan, a sweet smile, Angel matching his rhythm, easily as breathing.
“Yes, Angel-love. Feel.”
Angel’s eyes rolled, lips moving almost constantly. The man’s prick jumped and jerked
in their hands, the sweet ass squeezing his cock.
“Yes. Just like that.” He ground the words out between thrusts, and kept moving until he
could feel the pleasure building to a peak.
“Now, Angel. Come.”
He received a shocked look, a gasp, then Angel shot.
Angel’s ass clamped down tight on his cock, making him groan, and he gave in to the
pleasure. He came in hard pulses, seed shooting deep inside Angel.
They panted together, Angel staring at him, watching him.
He stared back for a long time, and then closed the scant distance between them, licking
at Angel’s lips and then pushing his tongue inside in a hard kiss.
“Now you begin to see,” he murmured as their lips parted.
Angel’s eyes flashed, challenging him, watching him. It was quite delicious, honestly.
“There’s fire in you, yet. Good. You’re going to need it.”
He shifted, his cock shifting inside Angel’s body.
Angel mouthed, ‘why?’ even as those hands squeezed his shoulders.
“Because I’m going to push you.”
And Angel was going to push back, before submitting.
He was looking forward to it.
Angel shook his head, body squeezing him, working his prick.
He groaned. “You’re good at that, Angel-love.”
“I enjoy my lovers.” The words almost had a sound behind them.
“You’re going to enjoy me.” Even when Angel was screaming, he’d be enjoying it.
He gave a half thrust, pushing in as deep as he could.
Angel groaned, legs drawing up.
“Mmm … insatiable as well as wanton.”
He thrust again, slow and deep, hips rolling just a little, circling his cock inside Angel’s
body.
“More.” Demanding little bottom.
“You think because you ask it, I’ll give it to you?” He continued to move inside Angel,
the hot body caressing his cock.
Angel nodded, eyes just dancing.
“Spoiled.”
Beautiful and wonderful and spoiled rotten.
Angel didn’t deny it, didn’t look the least bit concerned.
He kept circling his hips, pushing into Angel’s tight heat. The long cock was full again,
hot between them. Lovely man.
Angel closed those icy eyes, fingers sliding between them, stroking both of their skins.
“You’re going to enjoy our time together, Angel,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you
lose yourself, and then find you again.”
Angel’s cheeks flushed, the barest shake of head proving that the lovely man didn’t quite
believe him.
“Spoiled as anything. The world at your feet. Anything yours but for the thinking you
want it.” He continued to move slowly, the rhythm of his words moving his body. “And yet
when have you ever had someone who saw nothing but you?”
“No one sees me.” Angel’s eyes met his, defiant, angry, desperate, the words almost
given voice.
“I see you.” He would repeat the words as often as Angel needed to hear them, but more
importantly, he would show Angel that he saw, that he could give Angel what was needed.
Bending to Angel’s neck, he took the beautiful skin into his mouth and began to suck,
tongue swirling in time to the movements of his hips.
He heard Angel’s gasp, felt the jerk and rub of that body around his prick.
His teeth scraped over the reddened area, tongue following to lap and soothe and touch
that heated skin. “I’ve marked you.” He looked at that mark, his cock throbbing hard inside the
velvet of Angel’s body and he wanted very badly to see his mark made permanent on Angel’s
pale skin.
Something that belonged to Angel, and to himself. Something … dark and vivid.
Angel’s fingers slid up, stroking the mark, the long throat, eyes wide.
He moved a little faster, less circling now and more pushing in with hard, even thrusts
that brought the tip of his prick against Angel’s gland.
That so-famous, impossibly-perfect mouth opened, Angel gasping, reaching for him.
“Do you want me?” he asked. “Not someone or something, but me?”
Angel groaned, that fluttering panic returning to the lean face.
He swallowed his sigh. He would win Angel over completely, make the man admit his
need and his desires and that they were all focused on him.
It would be all the sweeter for the fight.
He closed his mouth over Angel’s, increasing the strength of his thrusts as his tongue
pushed in, working to bring Angel back to that place of mindless pleasure.
Angel’s body knew what the mind didn’t; arms and legs wrapping around him and
clinging tight, holding on almost desperately, as if afraid he would leave.
He wasn’t going anywhere though. Instead, he stayed right where he was, burying
himself into Angel’s heat again and again, the slow, easy strokes of earlier left behind as their
need pushed at him.
His thrusts were met eagerly, increasing his pleasure.
Angel’s lips met his jaw, his ear, words pouring out in whispers. “Fill me up. Please. I’ve
been so cold, so empty. It’s like being dead, freezing inside, waiting.”
He thrust harder, faster, plunging into Angel’s body over and over again.
When he was done he would put in a plug, stop his seed from leaving Angel’s body.
Just the idea had him groaning, and he slipped a hand between them to yank on Angel’s
cock so that they could come together.
Angel’s teeth grabbed his earlobe, the moaned ‘yes’ almost pained. Then Angel’s body
went tight, muscles fluttering around him.
“Yes!” He yelled the word out for them both, hips jerking as he filled Angel with heat,
the answering splash against his belly filling the room with the scent of male.
Angel whimpered, cuddling against him, shaking through the aftershocks.
He stroked and petted the smooth as glass skin, nibbling at Angel’s neck, tongue tracing
the mark he’d left there.
It surprised him, but Angel didn’t sleep. The man just relaxed under his touches, fingers
doing a little exploring themselves.
He enjoyed them for a few minutes, but could feel himself softening. “I want you to do
something for me. When I slide out, I want you to clench your ass – I don’t want you to lose a
drop of my come. Can you do that?”
Angel gave him the oddest, most curious look, but nodded, smiled.
“Excellent.” He pulled out carefully, giving Angel time to tighten up and hold his seed
inside.
The plug was in a separate pouch on his bag, along with the rest of his toys and it didn’t
take him long at all to grab it.
He returned, rolling it between his hands to warm it up. “Do you know what this is?” he
asked.
Angel looked, eyebrow arching. “Dildo?” he mouthed.
“No, it’s a plug.” He was surprised. Had no one ever plugged Angel? He could just
imagine the man on stage, singing the slinky, sensuous songs while plugged …
Shaking his head to clear it, Roland climbed back up on the bed as he spread lube on the
silver plug. “It’s meant to stay in. We’re going to have such an interesting time, you and I.”
Angel tilted his head, confused, lips moving.
“Let me get it seated and you can relax and use the commpad to ask your questions.”
He sat at the edge of the bed, and rubbed the tip of the plug gently against Angel’s hole.
When it opened for him, he slid the plug right in. He didn’t tease or play, just seated it in place.
“There. Now you’ll stay full.”
Angel’s chin lifted, throat working for a moment, eyes closing. Oh, that was lovely.
His mark moved with each swallow, dark against the pale skin, and Angel’s hair was a
wild mess around his face and shoulders. The pale skin begged to be touched, reddened, and with
his legs still slightly open, Roland could see the base of the plug where it sat snuggly against
Angel’s ass.
Reaching out, he touched one hip, finger sliding over the skin covering the sharp bone.
Angel moaned, shifted away before pressing closer, his name a bare whisper.
Such wonderful instincts. Roland would have to encourage them.
“How does it feel?” he asked, handing over the commpad.
Angel typed quickly, pulling the sheet up to cover himself. “Warm. Heavy. Why put it
in? We’ve had sex. I won’t get it up again for a bit.”
He tugged the sheet away from Angel. “Don’t hide yourself from me – I’ll turn the
temperature of the room higher if you’re cold. And it isn’t to get you up, it’s so that you feel me
in you, so that you aren’t empty inside.”
The slender hands reached for the sheets, the look a mixture of surprise and desire and
stubbornness.
Roland chuckled, keeping the covers away from Angel’s hands, pushing them right to the
bottom of the bed. “You can have the sheets back when it’s time to sleep. Until then, I want to
see you.”
It wasn’t like he expected Angel to be the only one naked, though it certainly would have
been within his rights as Angel’s Dom.
“No.” Angel shifted, heading for the blankets, hips jerking, skin flushing pink as he
moved toward the sheets.
Oh, look at how the plug changed how Angel moved.
He intercepted the man, climbing onto the bed and catching Angel’s hands. “I said no.”
Angel glared at him, hands tugging, but that sweet lower body trying to press close, touch
him.
He held fast to Angel’s hands, using them to tug Angel close, to let their hips rub
together. “You see the advantages of being bare?”
Angel snarled at him, fury flashing in those pretty eyes, but the man kept rubbing, kept
moving against him, hips rolling.
The dichotomy was fascinating.
He tugged Angel’s wrists behind the man’s back, holding onto both wrists in one hand,
so he could touch Angel with his other hand.
He grabbed hold of Angel’s hip, fingers digging in as he took over control of Angel’s
movements.
Angel fought him, then followed, then fought again, mind struggling with body.
Leaning in, Roland licked at Angel’s earlobe, then bit it. “So strong, Angel-love. You’re
beautiful in your struggle to submit.”
“I … I don’t want to play.” The words were hissed out, Angel thrumming against him.
“I’m not playing, Angel. This isn’t a game.” It was their life.
“It is.” Angel fought harder. “I need out of here.”
Ah, when scared, lean back on the familiar arguments.
He reached around Angel with his free hand, nudging the plug.
“You need to be right here and don’t waste what little voice you have arguing with me or
we’ll be back to the gag discussion.”
“You can’t! You work for Jax. He wouldn’t let you …”
“He’s not here, Angel. I am. And I mean it. One more word out of you and the gag it is.”
The soft silk gag was still on the floor next to the bed where it had been tossed earlier.
Angel arched, trying to break free, trying to struggle and failing miserably.
Not a sound came out of the singer’s mouth though.
He grabbed the bottom of the plug, twisting it, nudging it in a little deeper before letting
it slip back into place.
Angel was stunning.
Angel groaned, belly flushing a deep rose, cock actually jerking.
Oh yes, quite stunning.
“You are a beautiful man, but it is your submission that will really make you shine.”
He got a shake of head, a tug, Angel pouting furiously.
It was almost cute, the way Angel tried to resist, even as his body rushed to do his
bidding. He refrained from mentioning that, though. It would only anger the beautiful, proud
man in his arms.
“Lay back, Angel. I have a treat for you if you do.” A carrot to entice Angel’s obedience.
Angel’s curiosity warred with the habit to refuse, Roland could see it. Of course, he could
see it when the curiosity won. That was good to know.
The long body relaxed slowly, stretching carefully out on the bed.
So graceful, so practiced. Roland wondered what it would take to make Angel forget
himself outside of passion.
He settled on the bed at Angel’s feet and picked one up, fingers digging firmly into the
sole, massaging.
“Oh …” Angel simply melted, lips parted, toes curling in pure pleasure. Roland shook his
head, smiled. Angel was starved for the most simple of contacts.
In fact, he imagined that this was perhaps more intimate for Angel than fucking.
He placed a soft kiss on the ball of Angel’s foot, and moved the massage up to Angel’s
ankle.
By happy coincidence, the music had slowed, the driving beat giving way to a haunting
melody.
The muscles in his hands shuddered, then relaxed, Angel’s lips parting as the man let him
touch.
He hummed softly with the music, taking pleasure in the simple act of touching, of
sharing this with Angel.
He went as far as Angel’s knee before switching to the other leg, starting again at Angel’s
foot.
Angel watched him, breath slow and steady, a gentle smile on the pale lips.
He smiled back, attention split between Angel’s eyes and the leg he was working on.
Slowly, being thorough, he worked his way up Angel’s legs, the slender thigh muscles
surprisingly strong.
The moan that Angel offered him was real, honest, pleased. Happy.
It pleased him more than the shared orgasms had.
It was a reward for himself as well, this sharing between them.
He worked Angel’s hips, and moved on up, careful not to tickle as he rubbed Angel’s
belly.
Angel stretched for him, fingers soft on his arms, lips moving in thanks.
“It is my pleasure as well,” he told Angel. “It is something good we can do together.”
Angel nodded, brought one of his hands up to kiss the palm, so gently.
Smiling, he cupped Angel’s cheek, stroking the smooth skin, his thumb rubbing over
Angel’s lips.
It was a good place, a peace found between them.
For now.
Chapter Eight: Angel Wakes
Angel woke after a long day of being touched, being held, being fucked. This situation
was … odd.
He slid out of bed, headed for the shower, shutting the door behind him. He wasn’t sure
he understood exactly why he was here, but he loved the hot water, the steam, the heat.
The sheer decadence of the place.
He spent a long time washing himself, washing his hair, just luxuriating in the water.
The door opened without a knock, Roland coming in – not just into the bathroom, but
into the shower with him as well. “I assume you forgot that you are not to close the door?”
He frowned, turned his face to the water. That was silly. He needed his privacy. “Why?”
His voice sounded terrible, but it sounded.
Roland’s arms came around his waist. “I don’t know why you forgot.” The man’s warmth
pressed up against his back. “Because there cannot be any space between us.”
“I. I need my privacy.” There were always eyes on him.
“And I will guard your privacy from others fiercely. But at the moment there are no
barriers between us.”
That made him ache inside, made him scared. Made him shiver. Made him feel … He
wasn’t even sure. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You can.”
How could Roland sound so confident of that?
He shook his head, his hair so heavy against his back. “I don’t know.”
“But I do.”
Roland’s fingers began to skate over his skin, slick with soap.
He opened his mouth to argue, but the sensation distracted him, made him stretch up in
need.
“Your skin is amazing,” Roland said softly, touching him thoroughly. “So smooth.”
“I had it done. Lazed the hair. Helps the image.” He didn’t want to think about his image
here.
“I like it. Very different from myself.” Roland’s fingers slid over the bare flesh around
his prick. “Very sexy.”
That touch was addictive. Heated. Fine.
He still needed his privacy, though.
Roland didn’t seem inclined to give it to him, those hands washing him everywhere. His
hole, still feeling stretched from wearing the plug most of the night, throbbed as Roland’s fingers
slid past it.
He clenched, head dropping forward, hair hiding his face.
“Your sensuality is inspiring, Angel-love. You make me want to push you to see how far
we can take the pleasure.”
The clever fingers danced up his cleft and then followed his spine before coming back
down again, passing by his hole and on down to cup his balls.
“Angel-love.” That could be a song, a chant. “Angel-love, angel-love, angel-love.”
Roland chuckled, mouth sliding over his skin. “You like that. I don’t usually … well, it
just feels right.”
“Angel-love.” He nodded, humming softly, trying to sing along with the music in his
head.
Roland took the showerhead down and rinsed him off, teasing his cock and balls with the
spray from different angles, and then doing the same with his ass.
“Should you be talking? How’s your throat?”
“Better. Better today.” It was still sore, but not painfully so.
“No shouting, no screaming, no yelling. You get the picture.”
Roland replaced the showerhead, moving around him and pushing his hair back off his
face. “Tomorrow we’ll get Trip – he’s the doctor here – to take a look at it.”
“I’ve met him. He gives me my shots.”
He tilted his head, uncomfortable with being so exposed.
Roland’s fingers framed his face, not forcing his head back up, but encouraging it. The
man’s eyes were dark. Intense – like they were looking right into him. “No more shots.”
“Why?” He let himself lean into the touch, relax into it.
“You don’t need them.”
Roland said the words as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
“You don’t know that.” His head would hurt and he’d need the help. He’d cry without
them. “You don’t know what I need.”
“I know that you don’t need drugs to cope, to sleep. I know I can help you find the
strength inside you to do it without them.”
Roland kept looking right at him, not letting him look away.
“We have to talk to Jax about that. Jax is my manager.” Jax took care of him.
“I’m sure Jax will be there when we see the doctor. Tomorrow. For today, it is still just
you and I.” Roland gave him a slow smile. “I’m not going away, Angel-love. You’re going to
have to learn to deal with me.”
“I don’t deal with people. It’s not my job.”
“Being with me, dealing with the things we will do together, that’s not a job. It is your
life.”
Roland insisted on the most impossible things.
“You don’t understand.” One of them didn’t understand.
“I understand just fine.” Roland kissed him, ending the conversation with warm lips and
an agile, hot tongue pushing into his mouth.
He fought a moment, maybe two, before kissing back, allowing Roland to touch him.
A soft hum filled his mouth, Roland’s pleasure at his capitulation evident.
The hot water continued to rain down over them, adding its own sensation to the kisses
they shared.
He curled closer, rocking against Roland, almost dancing.
Roland leaned back against the tile, tugging him along so he pressed against the hard
muscles from shoulder to knees. The little hairs on Roland’s body rubbed against his own
smooth skin, the friction different, but good.
“Roland.” He moaned, frowned, tried to remember why he wasn’t just screaming and
demanding to see Jax.
“I like the sound of my name in your voice.”
“You make it hard to think. You’re dangerous.”
“You’re not supposed to think – you’re supposed to feel.”
Roland took his hand and brought it to the firm chest. “Feel.”
His eyes closed, fingers moving of their own volition, tracing muscles and bones, petting.
“Mmm … yes.”
Roland’s hand mimicked his, touching where he touched.
“I have work to do …” Didn’t he? Shouldn’t he? He leaned forward, lapping the water
from Roland’s shoulder.
“We’re working now. Working on each other.”
Roland’s hands spread over his chest, thumbs sliding across his nipples.
That made him chuckle and nod, the freedom in that phrase unusual and necessary.
“You like the water,” murmured Roland. “It likes you. Makes you shine.” Roland’s
fingers slid up and over his shoulders, rubbing the water away, the shower pouring more over
him immediately.
“I like the water. I grew up on a boat in Dionion.” That planet was 95 percent water; he
could swim before he could walk.
“We’ll have to make use of the pools. But today the shower will do us.”
Roland shifted slightly so the water fell more completely on him.
“Could we? Could we have one of our own?” He would do anything for a few hours in a
pool …
“Yes. Private pools.”
Roland pressed against him again, hand sliding around both their pricks.
“Oh. Oh, I want that.” Angel nodded, moaning. “Please.”
“It will be arranged.”
Roland’s dark eyes met his, holding him there and looking into him as Roland’s hand
squeezed them tightly together, moved up and down.
“Thank you.” He leaned forward, took a slow, sweet kiss. Roland was proving to be
someone unlike anyone he’d known before.
Roland’s fingers tugged and tugged, the motions nice and easy, pulling him slowly along
toward an orgasm. It wasn’t rushed or hurried, or anything but easy.
Angel moaned, melting into Roland’s arms. “Feels good. Tell me I can stay with you a
little while.”
“You can.”
The hand not wrapped around their cocks slid along his spine, fingers dancing and
teasing, making nerves he didn’t even know he had sing.
“Promise?” He hid his face in Roland’s shoulder, hips rolling, suddenly overwhelmed.
“I promise, Angel-love. You and I have time. So relax and enjoy the moment.”
A kiss pressed against the side of his temple, Roland’s thumb sliding across the tip of
their pricks, pressing in a little, just enough to make it burn a bit.
That made him gasp, groan, the pleasure in the little ache surprising him.
Roland moaned softly. “Yes, just like that. Feels so good if you let it.”
The touch came again, and Roland squeezed tightly as his hand came up over their heads,
stimulating the little hot spot right there at the head of his prick.
“Oh!” His voice cracked, seed shooting out of him in a rush.
“Mmm … yes.” Roland’s hand kept moving, easier now, and a moment later more heat
splashed over his prick as Roland came as well.
He swayed, caught in all the sensations, happy and quiet inside for a moment.
And Roland held him awhile, seeming to be content to just stand with him under the
spray, letting the hot water keep them warm.
Angel’s eyes closed and he held on, clinging to the slick strength.
Chapter Nine: What Angel Will Do For Water
They didn’t move until his stomach growled loudly. And then Roland chuckled and gave
him a quick squeeze. “I think that’s our cue for breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry, really.” He was happy where he was.
“Your body needs food, though.” Roland kissed the side of his head again. “And I’ll see
about time for a private pool when I order our food up.”
“Oh. Oh, yes. Please.” He nodded, moving from the water almost eagerly.
“It looks like we’ve found your currency,” murmured Roland, turning off the water flow
and grabbing a towel.
“What?” What did that mean?
“The perfect reward. A day in the pool.”
He stood a moment, considered that. “So long as you aren’t saying I’m for sale.”
Roland gave him a startled look. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Good.” He met those dark eyes, serious and sure. “I am very tired of being for sale.”
Roland met his gaze just as seriously, held it. “I have no intension of selling you, your
time, your image. Anything. Indeed, I believe you’ll find that I will very jealously guard our
privacy.”
Relief hit him so hard that he swayed, his knees buckling.
Roland was there to catch him, arms strong and sure, holding him against the compact,
solid body.
“I.” His mouth opened and closed; he didn’t know what to say.
“Shh. Save your voice.”
Roland kissed his forehead and led him back into the bedroom, sitting him in the big,
comfy chair near the little table.
He just sat, shaking a little, curling into himself as emotions rocked him. Scared him. “I
think I need to see Jax.”
Roland sat on the arm of the chair, a hand sliding over his head, fingers working their
way through his hair. “Why?”
“I’m … I need him. I need help.”
“I’m here to help you, Angel-love. Tell me what you need.”
He shook his head, hands starting to shudder. “I need him to tell me what to do. Why I
feel this. I need him.”
Jax was his center. His heartbeat.
“That’s what I’m here for. But perhaps it is time to bring you two back together, now that
Jax has seen that I can give you what you need.”
Roland went over to the closet and found his robe, tossing it over to him and then pulling
on a pair of simple linen pants.
The comm came out of Roland’s bag, buttons pressed.
Jax’s voice came, “Yes, Roland?”
Angel wrapped the robe around him, tears coming to his eyes, tension sliding up his
spine.
“Would you have a moment to spare? Angel has a few questions.”
Roland returned to his side, hand warm and solid on his shoulder, rubbing gently.
“Of course.” Jax’s voice was familiar and sure, but he curled closer to Roland. “How are
you doing, beauty?”
“I’m scared, Jaxie. My head hurts. I don’t understand any of this.”
“I know.” The long, hard face wasn’t handsome, but the smile was honest. “You’re tired,
Angel. You need Roland. I swear, I will not desert you, but I …” Jax shook his head. “I can’t
give you what you need. Roland can.”
Roland nodded, that hand on his shoulder sliding to rub over his neck, soothing and
warm, not letting him forget for a moment that Roland was there with him. For him.
“I am one hundred percent yours, Angel.”
“Why did you bring me here? When do I go back to work?”
Jax shook his head. “I brought me here, beauty, too. We need to rest. Please, trust me.
Would I leave you with someone you didn’t want to be with?”
He nodded. “You would, if you thought it was right.”
Jax’s laughter made him smile. “Yes. I think this is right. I can see it in you.”
“He’s feeling emotions, Jax. Probably for the first time in a long time, yes?”
Jax nodded. “It will be all right, beauty. Roland is strong enough to help you. I love you
dearly. Trust me.”
His eyes filled with tears. “I miss you, Jaxie. Can I see you soon?”
“Soon, beauty. Soon we’ll all sit and visit.”
“Thank you for sparing us a few minutes, Jax. Angel needed to hear your voice.”
Roland was speaking to Jax, but looking at him, seeing him.
“Have a pleasant day, Roland.” Jax offered him another smile, a wink. “And you, Angel,
have a good day.”
“He will. Good day.” Roland turned the comm off, and then tossed it carefully back into
his bag. “Does that help any?” Roland asked him.
Angel nodded, swallowed hard. “He’s my family. I can trust him.”
“And he trusts me, so now you can as well, eh?”
Roland’s fingers were warm as they worked a knot at the base of his neck.
“Oh …” Angel let his head fall forward. “Please.”
Roland’s fingers opened the tie of his robe and slid it off his shoulders, hand so much
warmer once it was directly on his skin.
His tears began again, sliding down his cheeks even though he wasn’t truly sad. He was
just … full.
Roland didn’t comment on them, just worked at the knot in his neck until it was gone,
and then starting on the rest of his back.
“What … what do you get from this?” Why are you being kind to me?
“Just as you need to submit, I need to dominate. I long to offer someone the kind of
focus, the kind of devotion that you need. Imposing my will upon you …” a shiver went through
Roland’s body. “Not to mention in this short time, I’ve already become very fond of you.”
“I don’t understand. I don’t submit. I work. Hard.” Roland’s fingers hit a sensitive spot
and he jerked, groaning.
“They’re just words, Angel-love. We just do what feels right between us.”
“Just … Just words.” He nodded, focusing on the touch, on the promise of the pool.
“What would you like for breakfast?” Roland asked, fingers not stopping for a moment.
“I … Can we have anything? I want sweet cakes with berries and cream.” That was his
favorite breakfast, when he could find the berries in season.
“Will you let me feed you?” Roland asked. “And will you feed me in return?”
He nodded. “I can. Will. Yes. I just.” He looked at Roland. “I’m scared. I’m all empty
inside and then I fill up with tears.”
He didn’t know if that made sense, but it was how he felt.
Roland’s hands slid one last time over his shoulders and then the man came around,
kneeling in front of him and sliding those warm hands over his cheeks.
“There’s nothing wrong with being scared. And you’re not empty all the time, are you?
Don’t I fill you up sometimes?”
“Yes.” His eyes went wide as he nodded. “You do. You make it …” He shook his head,
closed his eyes. “You’re good to me.”
“Yes. Remember that.”
His lips were taken in a hard, quick kiss and then Roland’s heat moved away.
His eyes flew open in time to see Roland pick the commpad back up to order their
breakfast. With extra cream.
Then Roland pressed a couple of buttons. “Mal? I need a favor.”
“A favor? What?” That voice did not sound friendly.
“I need a private pool for … oh, about an hour from now.”
“Oh, that’s easy. The boss wants you to go up to the exec suites for that. Use his floor.
Your palm prints open the pool area and the gardens. The windows are screened. The media
can’t see in.”
“Excellent. And no one else will be there?”
Roland had said he’d guard his privacy; it looked like he’d meant it.
“No, not at all. You will have complete privacy. Does your companion know how to
swim?”
Angel chuckled. Did he swim?
Roland glanced at him and smiled. “Yes, Mal. We’ve got the swimming covered.”
“Wonderful. Have a good one.” The comm clicked off.
“He sounds unfriendly.”
“He’s …” Roland chuckled and shrugged. “Mal. He has an entire club to keep in line.”
“Oh. Can we swim now?”
“We have sweet cakes coming in …” Roland checked the commpad. “About forty
minutes. I suppose we could have them sent up to the pool instead if you’re that eager.”
“I’m not hungry. I love to swim.” He hopped up, bouncing.
“In the nude, I hope.” Roland called the kitchen again, diverting their meal to the
executive suites.
“Okay. How do we get there? Which way?” Water. Swimming. It had been weeks.
“Do you have a sweatshirt with a hood? Just in case we meet someone on our way to the
service elevator.”
Angel frowned. “I’ll dress.”
He went into the bedroom, putting on layer after layer of cloth, hiding his hair, his form,
him.
“Enough. We aren’t likely to meet anyone on the way.”
Roland had added a t-shirt to the linen pants he’d put on earlier.
“I don’t want to talk to people.” He added a hat.
“I don’t want people talking to you, either. In fact if we come across anyone, let me do
the talking.” Roland held out an arm for him.
Oh. Oh, yes. Yes, please. He nodded, cuddling into Roland, hiding already.
They went to the door. It would be the first time he left this room since he got here.
“Steady,” murmured Roland. “There’s a pool at the end of this.”
“Okay. Okay. Stay with me.”
Don’t leave me. Don’t lose me.
“Oh, you’re not getting rid of me.” Roland’s arm tightened around him, leading him
through a hallway and out another door into a corridor.
He didn’t look for Jax. He didn’t look anywhere. He just walked and told himself the
pool was waiting. For him. Swimming.
Chapter Ten: Angel Gets to the Water
Roland never hesitated, guiding him to an elevator and taking care of all the details. He
was led down another corridor once they were out of the elevator, and when they went through
yet another door he could smell sanitized water.
“We’re close.” He was vibrating.
“We’re here,” Roland murmured, leading him through a last door into a room full of
privacy windows with a ten yard by three yard pool in it.
“Look …” He headed for the water, dropping his clothes as he went.
Roland chuckled, following him, picking up his clothes and folding them neatly. “Before
you go in – how long can you stay under before you need to come up for air?”
“Hmm? I don’t know. A long time.” He stepped out of his final layer, yearning for the
water.
“I just need to know when I should start worrying that you’re drowning.”
“When I turn blue.” He dove into the water, the sudden silence stunning him.
A few moments later and another body broke through the water, the sounds familiar, even
if he hadn’t heard anything like them in a long, long time.
He could hear Roland swimming, legs kicking, arms pulling through the water.
Angel smiled, moving along without much effort, allowing the water to draw all his
worries away.
Roland matched him for awhile, and then floated in the middle of the pool, occasionally
reaching out to touch him as he went by.
He swam back and forth, humming as he went, perfectly happy.
He must have swum a couple hundred laps when Roland reached out and snagged his
arm, stilling him.
Angel blinked up. “What?”
“Have you ever made love in the water?”
“I had sex. I didn’t make love.”
“Would you like to?” Roland asked, treading water and moving closer.
“Have sex or make love?” He wasn’t interested in sex right now, but he would like to
touch …
“Which one is this?” Roland asked, pressing their mouths together in a soft kiss. Roland’s
tongue slid over his lips, not trying to push in, just touching warmly.
His smile refused to be denied and he floated closer, legs tangling with Roland’s.
They stopped paddling and went slowly under, the water covering their chins and then
their mouths, their noses, their heads.
Angel opened his eyes, looking at Roland, trying to decide whether to be frightened,
whether to relax.
Roland was looking right at him through the water, and started gently moving his arms,
slowly bringing them back up again.
Their lips parted on a pair of gasps, and Roland chuckled. “Maybe we should find the
edge so one of us can hold on.”
“Okay.” His head was a little swimmy, sparkles behind his eyes.
Roland held him with one arm and slowly moved them toward the side of the pool.
He moaned as the water caressed his skin, slid over him. It made him hard, made him
ache deep inside.
“The water makes your skin shine,” Roland murmured. “It’s very flattering.”
“I was born in the water …” He flipped backward, moving through the water, lost in it.
Roland was there when he surfaced, hands moving on his skin, warm in contrast to the
water.
“You’re still here.” He was kind of surprised, honestly, strangely.
Roland tugged him in for another hard, breath-stealing kiss. “I’m not going anywhere,
Angel-love. One day you will learn to take me at my word. Soon I hope.”
Angel-love. That made him groan, cling. “You’re dangerous.”
One of Roland’s eyebrows went up. “Dangerous? Perhaps. Why do you say so?”
He opened his mouth to answer, then shook his head, diving away.
Because he could learn to need this.
He heard something he thought might be a growl and Roland didn’t wait for him to
surface this time, the man diving deep to meet him. Roland grabbed his arm and tugged him up
out of the water. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I didn’t.” He pulled away, heart pounding.
Roland was relentless, taking his arm again. “You can’t run away from me, Angel.”
“I … I don’t want to.”
“No? But you keep doing just that instead of answering my question. Is it such a difficult
question? Or maybe it’s the answer that’s difficult.”
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. I promise.” He was fluttering, breathing fast and hard.
“I think it does.” Roland tread water easily next to him, the movement of Roland’s arms
and legs sliding the water around him. “How am I dangerous?”
“You just are. To me. Dangerous to me.” To his heart.
Roland shook his head. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Yes, you will. You won’t want to, but you will.” Everyone would.
“For someone who has earned a living singing beautiful, romantic songs, you are very
cynical.” Roland was slowly tugging him toward the edge of the pool again.
“That’s my job, to be romantic. Is that wrong?”
“I didn’t say it was. I was merely surprised at how cynical a romantic you were.” Roland
sighed and suddenly let go of him, back peddling slightly. “Swim, Angel-love. Fly through the
water.”
“Are you …” It didn’t matter. Roland could be pissed. “I’m sorry.”
He turned and swam and swam, letting the water slid over his cheeks like tears.
At some point in his swimming, Roland stopped him. “I’m not angry,” Roland told him
before backing away again.
He followed, drawn to Roland’s strength. “You’re not?”
Roland shook his head. “I’m not. I just didn’t want to continue to push here in the water.”
“Why not?”
“Because this is a place you love, something you enjoy deep in your soul. It is a place of
peace and healing for you, is it not?”
“Yes.” He nodded, reaching out to squeeze Roland’s fingers in thanks.
“Then it should always be so.”
Roland drifted close, body warm in the water, drawing him in.
“You scare me.” He pressed closer, face lifting to beg a kiss.
Roland gave it to him without a question, without responding to his comment.
They didn’t go under this time, Roland’s legs working to keep them above the water.
And this time, Roland successfully guided them to the edge of the pool. Holding on with
one hand, Roland deepened their kisses.
Angel moaned, arms wrapping around Roland’s shoulders. Those kisses – he could get so
lost.
One of Roland’s legs wrapped around his, tugging him in closer. The man’s tongue made
his insides melt.
He shivered and shook, finally giving himself over to the sensation, to Roland’s strength.
The coolness of the water did nothing to disguise the heat that went along with that
strength, Roland so warm, the man’s filling cock even hotter as it pressed against his belly.
His fingers cupped Roland’s head, encouraging the kiss to continue, to deepen. Please.
Love me.
A low moan filled his mouth as the kiss did indeed deepen, Roland’s tongue moving in
his mouth, fucking him, loving him.
Angel groaned, something hard inside him melting, easing.
Roland’s free hand slid down along his back, leaving a tingling trail of heat in its wake. It
ended up on his ass, squeezing, fingers finding his crack.
He nodded and moaned, moving faster and faster against Roland’s body.
“Let me have you,” murmured Roland, one finger pushing into him. “Let me show you
how making love in the water is different than fucking in the water.”
“Please. Please, I need to see.”
“Shh. Yes. You’ll see. I will fill you and I will stay and the water will hold us. Together.”
Roland pushed a second finger inside him, sliding it deep. It hit his prostate on that first push, but
not on the second or third. It did on the fourth again, though. And Roland’s eyes watched,
watched his face as the fingers inside him moved and teased and made him gasp.
“Yes. Yes, Roland …” He leaned back, the water helping to support him, to help him
relax.
“Come if you want, Angel-love, come as many times as you want – this isn’t going to be
over anytime soon. Not at all.” The words were low and husky, vibrating in Roland’s chest and
inside him.
“Promise?” Tears welled up in him, but they weren’t sorrow, just a slow, welling of
pleasure, of peace, of the memory of being loved.
“I promise.” The words came with another bump against his prostate, and then another,
as Roland’s fingers stayed right there, moving only enough to stimulate his gland again and
again.
“Roland …” Seed poured from him, the orgasm deep and slow, seeming to go on and on.
“Here, Angel-love. I’m here.”
Just as he thought it would become too much, Roland’s fingers backed off a little,
stretching him wide now instead of pushing deep.
A deep sound escaped him, almost tearing at his throat. Oh, please, don’t let it stop. Not
yet.
Roland swallowed the sound with another kiss, cock still hot as a brand against his belly.
The fingers inside him were joined by a third, all three stretching wide, and then collapsing
together. They slid in and out, their rhythm echoed by Roland’s tongue in his mouth.
He lost track of time, of the world, of anything but the pressure inside him, the pleasure
all around him.
Roland’s mouth continued to devour his; each kiss felt so necessary, as if Roland just had
to have it, had to have him.
The soft, random bumps against his gland began again, Roland’s hips rolling against him
now, the hard, hot cock, sliding and sliding on his skin
His heart pounding, cock throbbing and jerking against his belly, aching with need.
“I want you – no, no, I need you, Angel-love. I need to be inside you, to feel your body
squeezing me tight. Not just anyone – you.”
The fingers inside him slid away, Roland’s cock pushing behind his balls, searching.
“Please. Please, I need.” He opened his eyes, stared at Roland. “I need too. Don’t stop.
Love me.”
“No stopping. None.” Roland reached down and guided the thick, hot prick to his hole.
And pushed in, filling him as they floated there in the water.
He smiled. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t help it. Roland offered him exactly what he
needed.
Roland smiled back, eyes warm.
They began to rock together, Roland’s hips pushing, leading their movements as if they
were dancing in the water – a pair of mermen coming together.
“Roland …” He swallowed, stretched as Roland pushed deep.
“Right here. Inside you. Around you. I am all you need to know until I tell you
otherwise.” Roland’s words were punctuated with long thrusts, his shaft finding Angel’s gland.
“In … there. There. Please.” His cock throbbed, balls aching as his body fought to climax
again.
“Oh, yes. Right there.” Roland hit his gland again and again, hips rolling and pushing.
Roland’s eyes held his, piercing him as surely as that cock pierced his body.
His heart pounded, hands opening and closing as seed pulsed from him in spurts.
Roland stilled, stayed buried deep inside him through his orgasm.
Those eyes never left his, shared the moment with him.
Angel moaned, melting back into Roland’s arms, into the water.
Roland held him, cock hard enough he could feel the man’s heartbeat inside him. Then
Roland began to move again, small circular motions, Roland moaning. “You feel so good,
Angel-love. Hot and tight and perfect around me.”
Angel-love. That was the finest sounding thing. “This is Heaven.”
“Mmm … pretty close. Maybe as close as we can get.”
A shudder moved through Roland. “Oh. Soon. Soon.”
“Soon.” He squeezed as best he could, body so relaxed, so melted.
“Yes!” Roland nodded, swallowed, and pushed in hard. His hips jerked a couple of times
and then Angel could feel the heat of Roland’s seed filling him deep inside.
Chapter Eleven
Everything inside him melted as they floated and suddenly, suddenly Roland seemed
beautiful to him.
“I think you may have something here,” murmured Roland. “The water, I mean. It’s
nice.”
“It is.” He felt held and warm. Safe. Happy.
“That’s a good look on you, Angel-love. I’ll have to see what I can do to make sure you
wear it often.”
“Promise?” He’d never felt so good, never felt so at peace.
Roland rolled his eyes. “I’m going to get it on a recording for you – I promise.”
His cheeks heated, embarrassed. He knew better. “I’ll remember.”
“Good. But I will say it as often as you need me to until you believe it.”
Soft kisses slid over his cheeks.
Angel shivered – part of him wanted to swim away, part of him wanted to hold on tight.
“I don’t know what to do next.”
“We’re going to get out of the water before I turn into a prune. And then we’re going to
go and meet with Jax and his beautiful sub. Say hello.”
“We are?” Oh, he could do that. He missed Jaxie, more than he’d imagined he would.
“Yes. We are.”
Roland moved them slowly back to the edge of the pool where there were stairs so they
could get out easily.
His legs trembled, surprisingly weak as they stepped out.
Roland’s arm went around his waist, supporting him.
“Careful, Angel-love. I won’t let you fall.”
“I.” Oh. Scary. “I’m okay?”
“You’re just fine, Angel-love. Just fine.”
He looked up, searched Roland’s eyes, tempted beyond all reason to ask for reassurance.
“Okay.”
Oh, Roland beamed at him, the look going through him, settling in his belly. “Yes.”
He’d done something right – he had no idea what that something was, just that he’d done
it.
Roland’s mouth closed over his, the kiss soft, sweet.
Angel opened, trusting in that strength to hold him up, to help him.
The kiss stayed gentle, and it went on and on, making him dizzy, until finally it ended,
and Roland led him from the room with the pool, back down the corridor to the lift.
They ended back in the suite, Roland warm and sure for him. Jax was right there on a
sofa, a dark man beside him. Jax smiled, eyes warm. “Angel.”
“Jaxie.”
Roland smiled and sat in the large chair next to the sofa, pulling him gently down to sit
on Roland’s lap. “How are you and your companion doing, Jax?”
“Very well, Roland. It has been very rewarding, being here with Minuet.”
Angel didn’t know what to do – his hair was wet, he was nude, and he was sitting with a
stranger.
The one called Minuet watched him and Roland with dark eyes, hand curled around Jax’s
elbow.
“I too have found my time here rewarding.” Roland’s hand slid over his back, up and
down his spine. “Angel has a few questions for you, I believe.”
“I was scared, Jaxie. I didn’t want to be here. When do I go back to work?”
“Angel. Breathe. I told you – Roland’s here to help you.” Jax looked sad, somehow. “I
think we have to wait to discuss work.”
The hand on his back continued to stroke, soothing. “I’m not ready to give you up yet,
Angel-love.”
“I … I’m not locked in here, right?”
“No, Angel, but remember, no one knows you’re here. Once someone knows …”
Angel shuddered, tension trying to creep back into his muscles. Yes. The people would
do anything – anything – to see him, to touch him.
Roland growled a little, fingers moving to his shoulder, massaging.
“You’re not ready to give me up yet, either, Angel-love.”
“No. Not yet.” He shivered and pressed closer, confused and upset, lost. “Roland.”
“Shh. Shh. I have you.”
Roland’s arms came around him and pulled him close to the strong body, kissed his
forehead.
“See, sweet Angel? I told you he was here for you.” Jax sounded amused, but somehow
sad. “You need him.”
Angel held Roland’s eyes, staring. He wasn’t ready to cope yet. He wanted the water
back. “When can we swim again?”
“Tomorrow. For now I think we should retire.” Roland’s hand continued its soothing
touches.
“Can we? I’m sorry. My head hurts.” He loved Jaxie, but that was … There was so much
between them. So many expectations and worries and …
“Should I call the doctor for him, Roland?”
Roland shook his head. “I have what he needs. Enjoy your time with Minuet, and I’m
sure in a few days Angel will feel up to a longer visit. Baby-steps.”
One arm staying around his shoulders, the other sliding beneath his knees, Roland stood,
holding him.
Angel hid his face in Roland’s throat, whispering ‘thank you’ over and over.
Roland brought him back to the room he’d woken up in, and climbed into bed with him.
The strong arms didn’t let go of him, just held him close and tight. “I have you, Angel-love. I
have you.”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes were closed and he simply pressed as close as he could.
One of Roland’s legs slid atop his own. “For what?”
“For not being able to be social.”
“You don’t need to apologize for that.”
Roland squeezed him with arms and legs holding him tight.
“I don’t?” His muscles eased, his tension melting away.
Roland shook his head. “You don’t. What you do need to do is relax and feel good in
your own body.”
“I did. Today. I felt so good. You helped me feel so good in the water.”
“That’s what I’m here for. For you.”
Roland kissed the side of his mouth, hand stroking down his back to settle on his ass.
“Did you enjoy it?” His hands curled, stroking Roland’s stomach.
The muscles beneath his fingers flexed for him. “I enjoyed it very much. I can see why
the water draws you so.”
Angel leaned in, whispering. “I never climaxed so much.”
He could feel Roland’s smile. “Get used to it,” Roland whispered back.
“What if my balls dry out?” He couldn’t stop his smile; this was actually fun.
Roland laughed, hand cupping the items in question, rolling them gently. “I think we
could call Doc for something to fix that if it truly becomes a problem.”
Oh, that felt good. Pleasant. Warm. “I like your touch.”
“And I like touching you. Touch is important to me. It always has been.” One finger slid
behind his balls, the touch so soft.
“Tell me about you.” Everyone knew about him. Everyone heard the hype.
Roland looked surprised, but then he nodded. “If you’d like. I grew up in the farming
colony on Gapa. It was not all hard work – they let us sleep several hours a day.” Though
Roland winked, Angel could see that everything he’d heard about the harsh planet was likely
true, there was a hardness in Roland’s eyes as he spoke of it.
“I’m sorry.” He gave into the urge to squeeze Roland’s waist, to hold on. “I’ve never
played there, but I’ve heard of it.”
“It isn’t a very pleasant place, but it formed me, made me who I am.”
Roland leaned back against him, letting him offer the comfort and support. “I escaped as
soon as I could. Apprenticed on a cargo hauler. The captain was a hard-assed bastard.” Roland
chuckled.
“Jaxie found me in school. He took me away and taught me the business. We made a
fortune.”
He sometimes thought Jaxie was a hard-assed bastard. Mostly he thought Jaxie was just
tired.
“You’ve an amazing voice, Angel-love. It would have been a shame if you hadn’t been
found. I’m good at what I do, but there’s plenty who can do what I do.”
Roland’s hand slid along side, the touches random, soft.
“I don’t think so.” Jaxie’d brought him a number of lovers, men. None had been Roland.
Roland smiled, fingers sliding along his cheek. “I’m glad you think so, Angel-love.
Maybe I’m special at that.” Roland gave him another wink. “I do have a good amount of
experience.”
“At what?” He had had sexual partners, one night stands. Nothing intense.
“All manner of domination. I have my specialties, of course, but while here at the Glove I
have become familiar with everything a dominant should know.” Roland’s fingers slid down to
his ass again, cupping one cheek. “I will bind you often. And fill you. I prefer paddles over
whips, but we shall find what works best for us.”
“What?”
He shook his head, not sure if he’d heard what he thought he’d heard.
“I said we shall find what works best for us, Angel-love. I will make you beg, and I will
make you soar, and together we shall plumb your depths. It will be glorious.” Roland certainly
thought so, his prick hardening, pushing against Angel’s hip.
“I don’t. I don’t want to. No hurting, okay?”
“No whips, then. I prefer the paddles anyway. And my hand.” Roland’s hand slid across
his buttocks. “Just to bring the blood up to the surface, Angel-love. To make everything more.
There will be no breaking of the skin. No permanent or intense pain.”
He searched Roland’s eyes again, then nodded. “Okay.”
Roland was here to help him.
“Thank you for your trust, Angel-love.” He was given a kiss, soft and gentle, Roland’s
breath becoming his own for a long moment.
“Would you like to be filled now? A small plug to keep you grounded in your body.”
“Will it?” He squeezed his hole, the ache there sweet, just a reminder of the passion
they’d discovered in the pool.
“Oh, yes. To remind you I was there, hmm?” Roland’s finger tapped against his hole.
Angel nodded, shivering a little. “It was so good. The most at peace I’ve ever been.”
The happiest he’d been in years.
“We’ll do it again, Angel. That peace is something we’ll cultivate for your life.”
Roland gave him a soft kiss. “I’ll just be a moment. I have exactly the right thing.”
He nodded, eyes falling closed as he cuddled into the blankets. Roland’s words echoed
inside him. Cultivate for your life. Peace. Do it again.
The mattress dipped as Roland climbed back up on the bed. “You really are quite
beautiful, Angel-love.” Warm, capable fingers slid up along his leg and over his hip. “Your skin
is so fine.”
“Thank you.” He’d heard the words again and again, they didn’t mean anything.
Roland’s lips slid across his ass cheek, the warm fingers spreading him for Roland’s hot,
wet tongue.
“You taste even better than you look.”
“I. Oh. So hot. Roland. Your mouth.”
Roland hummed, the sound vibrating the tongue that pressed against his hole. Then
Roland pushed inside him, tongue burning as it slid wetly inside.
He couldn’t get hard again, he couldn’t because he’d come and come, but the pleasure
didn’t stop, the pleasure made him shudder.
Roland’s fingers explored him gently again, sliding along his cock, and cupping his balls.
They explored his belly and his chest, touched his nipples and his collarbones. If he kept it up,
soon Roland would know him better than he knew himself. And all the while Roland fucked him
with that wicked tongue.
He’d lost his ability to think or speak or do anything but ride the pleasure Roland insisted
upon before it stopped, and when Roland’s tongue did slide away it was like his nerves were
hardwired for the pleasure, and he felt like he was floating on it.
The plug at his entrance was small, but it was hard and unyielding, just waiting there as if
Roland was demanding his attention.
His breath huffed from him, his moans and groans almost like music.
Roland leaned over him, body warming him through. The plug teased at his entrance, just
the very tip pushing in and then disappearing, and pushing in again.
He relaxed, eyes closing as he accepted the sweet sensation, the slow, steady tease.
“Mmm … yes, such a beautiful, sensual man …” Roland moved them, rocking them
slowly together, the plug moving slowly into him, going a little bit deeper each time as if it were
Roland’s cock and not the foreign metal.
“Roland …” Everything felt so soft, so warm, like he was cradled and held.
“Yes, right here.”
The plug went in all the way as Roland murmured the words, the man giving it a quick
twist before seating it. It wasn’t very large, but he would not forget it was there.
He murmured under his breath, moving slowly in the sheets.
“It’s in me.”
“It is. It would be me, but even I can’t stay hard forever.” Roland nuzzled his neck.
“Besides, it would become awkward, trying to do things with the two of us literally attached at
the hip.”
Angel chuckled, shook his head. “It can’t stay in forever.”
“No, it won’t. But I think you need to be filled much of the time, yes? To know
physically that I am here.” Roland touched his ass. “And here,” his head. “And here.” His heart.
“I.” He didn’t have the energy to frown, to argue. Not now. Not when he felt so good.
A soft kiss landed on his shoulder. “Shh, Angel-love. Just feel. Just remember the peace
from the pool.”
Yes. The water, the loving, the way everything eased him, touched him. Yes, he could
remember that. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome, Angel-love. You are very welcome.” Another soft kiss graced his
shoulder, Roland warm and solid behind him, around him.
The covers draped around them and Angel sighed, floating away in perfect warmth.
Chapter Twelve
Roland woke before Angel, the beautiful man sleeping quite soundly.
And without the aid of drugs.
He couldn’t help smirking a little at that. He had, in fact, gotten far further than he’d ever
expected to in this short a time. Poor Angel was so touch and love starved. Everyone wanted a
piece of him. He imagined it was a hellish way to live.
He climbed from the bed and went to the comm. He needed to call Jax and assure the
man Angel was all right. Roland had worried that even Jax’s presence would undermine him
with Angel, but it had been him Angel had turned to and so he was no longer worried about that.
He pressed the button for Jax.
“Yes, Roland?” He could hear Minuet moaning in the background, Jax’s eyes more
awake and aware than he’d seen before.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to make sure you had no questions or
concerns regarding Angel.” He was pleased to see the sad look had mostly faded.
“How’s his head? He seemed very … off-center yesterday, but that is to be expected.” It
was a boon, that Jax was a Dom, knew the lifestyle and understood.
“I took him off the drugs cold-turkey, but he is sleeping peacefully right now. Things are
going far better than I could have anticipated.” He offered Jax a tight smile. “I think he was very
much at the end of his rope.”
“That’s why I brought him here.” Jax didn’t return his smile. “The Company would have
let him die or go mad. He is my friend, my family. I would not allow that.”
“He is lucky to have you, Jax. And he is lucky you knew to let go. As am I.” He glanced
over at the bed as Angel began to stir. “Did you have any other questions at the moment?”
“Is he … is he adjusting?” Jax’s voice lowered. “My only concern is that he is …
unfamiliar with the lifestyle. That my instincts were faulty.”
“He is doing a beautiful job, Jax. Just beautiful. Your instincts were bang on. Oh, I’m
sure we’ll have our moments, but he is where he needs to be.”
Jax chuckled and nodded. “He throws things. And when the hands start fluttering, the
meltdown is on the way.”
“Fluttering hands, eh? Thank you for the tip – I will keep an eye out for that.” He would
like to see Angel in full diva mode. Once.
“Yes. That is his defense, his way of regaining control.” Another deep moan sounded and
Jax’s lips twitched. “Now, you must excuse me. My beautiful one needs.”
“Then I will not keep you any longer. Enjoy.”
He signed off and stood, stretching out all his muscles.
Angel shifted, slid from the bed, still mostly asleep and padded to the bathroom, the door
sliding shut.
Roland shook his head. Eventually Angel would remember to keep the door open. He
padded over to the door and opened it, leaning against the jamb. “Good morning, Angel-love.”
Angel nodded over to him, a frown on his face. “Morning. My head hurts. Can you call
the doctor?”
“Why don’t I try a thing or two first, hmm? Come back to the bed.”
Angel looked at him, stared a moment, then nodded. “Okay, Roland.”
He got Angel settled on the bed and began a massage, starting with Angel’s neck and
shoulders. The end of the plug peeked out from Angel’s body, but he ignored it for now. He
would make removing it a part of the massage.
“I.” Angel shifted, stretching under his touch. “Your hands are warm.”
“The warmth should help your muscles relax and your nerves let go of the pain.” He kept
his voice pitched low. “You’re tight. And your body is missing the drugs you’ve been taking to
keep yourself going.”
Angel nodded, moaning softly. “They eased my hurt.”
“We’re going to find new things to do that, Angel-love. You don’t need them anymore.”
He pushed his knuckles along Angel’s spine. “The quick fix is no longer necessary.”
“No? I don’t. I don’t know how to not be quick …”
“You’re doing a good job at it nonetheless.” He stroked his hands across Angel’s ass,
careful not to jostle the plug too much.
“I. Oh. Full.” Angel shivered and moaned softly, body shifting.
“You like that, don’t you? Being full. You need it.” He drummed his fingers against the
plug, his own prick filling at the sight of Angel’s sensual movements.
“It’s different.” Stubborn boy. Sweet, moaning, stubborn boy.
“Not as good as the real thing, I know. But we’ve already had the attached at the hip
discussion.” He bent to kiss Angel’s ass, smiling against the soft, smooth skin. He realized he’d
smiled more since being with Angel than he usually did. The club’s blinky little subs would
hardly recognize him.
“Mmm. Your lips are soft.”
“Like your skin, then.” He kissed Angel’s butt cheek again and licked along the man’s
crease until he hit the base of the plug. He blew softly against it, and licked all around it.
Angel jerked away, a surprised cry sounding.
“Shh. Shh. It’s all right, Angel.” He licked again.
“That … oh, that’s big.” He imagined so, after the lovemaking and the night filled.
“Just my tongue.” He licked again, and breathed once more on Angel’s damp skin.
He took hold of the base of the plug and tugged just a bit. Angel’s body jerked, rippled as
that slim ass pulled away. He placed another kiss on Angel’s ass, and then began to slowly work
the little plug out of Angel’s body. It slipped free easily, Angel’s moan filling the air.
Leaning in, Roland licked at the sweet hole, and then pushed his tongue inside. Angel
scrambled up on hands and knees, pushing back suddenly, so very hungry. That had him smiling
again, and fucking Angel with his tongue, pushing it as deep as he could, offering as much
sensation as possible to his touch-starved lover.
Angel began to sing for him, the sounds amazing, echoing inside him, throbbing. They
found a rhythm together, his tongue and Angel’s amazing notes. He let Angel take the lead, set
the pace.
Angel’s hand slipped down, started pulling that long, thin prick.
He reached out and grabbed Angel’s hand, tugging it away from Angel’s cock. “Mine,”
he murmured, replacing Angel’s hand with his own, the heat wonderful against his palm, and a
hard echo of the heat around his tongue.
Angel groaned, went stiff a moment, then shot with a soft cry, his name ringing out.
Roland let Angel’s body squeeze and milk his tongue, enjoying knowing that he made that
happen.
“Me now,” he murmured once the shivers and shudders had disappeared. “Bigger.
Hotter.”
“You.” Angel arched, head dropping onto his folded arms.
“Yes. My cock, I mean.” He settled between Angel’s legs, hands sliding along the slender
back, cupping Angel’s buttocks. He pushed his thumbs into Angel’s body, spreading Angel’s
hole.
The ring of muscles was pink and swollen, wet and slick and squeezing his thumbs. Here
was something very few others saw, and he would be surprised if anyone saw Angel like this. It
was his alone. The private side of the very public figure. All his.
Groaning, he let his thumbs slide away. His cock bumped against Angel’s hole, and then
he pushed in as slowly as he could stand.
“Roland …” Angel hummed, moaned softly as he slid in. Relaxed, easy – Roland would
wager Angel’s head wasn’t hurting. Angel was so tight and hot, so good around his prick.
“Ride and feel, Angel-love.” Angel’s body squeezed around his prick at the endearment,
lean spine flushing rose. “Mmm …” He thrust easily, keeping the pace nice and easy. Too much
force could be painful, given how full Angel had been for the last several days.
His hands slid up along Angel’s back, following the blush of color. Angel arched under
his touch, pushing toward his hands. “Yes. Follow your body – it knows what it wants.”
He continued to thrust, his hips slapping Angel’s ass, the noise as much a part of the
love-making as the heat of their bodies.
“I’m worried, Roland.” The words were whispered.
He didn’t stop, though it was a near thing, but he knew Angel would be more likely to
keep talking if it appeared casual. “About what, Angel-love?”
“You. About how you make me feel.”
“And how do I make you feel?”
“I … I can’t …”
He moved a little faster, hands sliding up and down Angel’s back, soothing and
distracting. “Can’t what, Angel-love?”
“I can’t say.” Angel groaned. “You’re so much.”
“You’ll learn to say,” he murmured, thrusting a little harder now, finding Angel’s gland.
“No …” Angel’s head tossed, body rippling and jerking beneath him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Angel-love.” He slid his hand around Angel’s hip, finding the
long prick and tugging on it once again.
“People always leave …”
“Not me,” he insisted, working Angel’s ass and prick.
“Not … I want to believe you …”
“You will.” Time was a wonderful tool. He tightened his fingers around Angel’s cock,
speeding his movements.
“Roland …” Angel jerked, fucking down toward his hand.
“Let go, Angel-love. Give yourself over to me.” He found Angel’s gland once more and
made sure to hit it with every thrust, every plunge into Angel’s heated, tight body.
Angel’s climax rocked them both, soothed him to the bone.
It drew his own seed from him, his pleasure almost an afterthought to Angel’s this time.
He sighed happily, and pulled out reluctantly. He would not plug Angel; in fact he was
pretty sure Angel would feel full for awhile now.
“How is your head?” he asked softly as he lay next to his lover.
“Better.” Angel smiled, reached out and traced his eyebrows. “Good morning.”
He smiled back and waggled his eyebrows, rubbing them against Angel’s fingers. “Yes, I
believe it is.”
Chapter Thirteen
Angel’s laughter rang out, made him smile, warmed him deep down.
“Do you need anything? Are you hungry?”
“I … Yes. Yes, I want … oh, I want something sweet.”
“Fruit? Or something sugary? Something I can lick off your lips.” He leaned in, tongue
tracing Angel’s lips.
Angel chuckled, lips chasing his tongue. “What if I didn’t let you?”
Roland didn’t understand the question. “What do you mean, if you didn’t let me?”
“What if I didn’t let you lick my lips?”
“But it isn’t your choice, Angel-love.”
“Of course it is.” Angel kissed the corner of his mouth.
He tilted his head. “I am the top, Angel-love. What I say goes.” It was how it worked.
“The top of what?” Angel’s head tilted in response.
“Of you. In charge. The master, if you will, though I dislike the word and don’t see our
relationship that way.”
“In charge?” Angel frowned, leaned away a bit. “But … I don’t understand. Aren’t you
working for Jaxie?”
“I don’t work for anyone. Although I sort of work for you. But more with you.” He shook
his head. They’d been through this already, though he could only guess at what the drugs Angel
took might have done to his short term memory. Or how long it had taken for them to leave his
system after he stopped taking them.
“That doesn’t make sense. Let’s start again. Who pays you?”
“Nobody pays me.” In fact, he paid the club for his rooms. Paid through the nose at that.
The Glove was very exclusive and that included their prices.
“Oh.” Angel blinked, a very satisfied smile crossing his face after a moment.
“What?”
“I … It’s good, that you’re with me because you want to be. Isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes. Of course it is.” He relaxed and smiled back. “Yes, Angel-love. No one pays
me. No one makes me do this. I want to.”
“This is very … unusual.” Angel moved closer to him again, fingers on his skin.
“And some would say peculiar. Others would say depraved. But I know that it is a way to
find peace, pleasure. As do the people who live here, who work here.” He enjoyed Angel’s
touches, the latent sexuality in them.
“Jaxie likes it here. He used to come here, I think. When we were on break.”
“He’s a top like me. He has a beautiful man to play with – the one you met yesterday.
Minuet.”
Angel frowned. “So if he’s like you, why wouldn’t he want to play with me?”
“Because he isn’t exactly like me and he knew he couldn’t give you what you needed.
You’re too close to suddenly change your relationship, and he needs … a pretty pliant lover who
will adore him without question.” Roland grinned wryly. “You aren’t the adoring without
question type, Angel. Not even for a man you love and respect.”
“You mean I’m not a pushover. No, I’m not.” That was a stubborn set to that jaw.
He stroked Angel’s jawline. “No, you’re not. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“It is? Good. I’m tired, but I’m not weak.”
“I know that, Angel-love. You’re not weak, nor stupid.” Someone like that would have
him screaming from boredom in a matter of days.
Angel met his eyes, nodded. “You couldn’t go as far as I have if you were weak.”
“Yes. You have to remember though, too, that it isn’t a sign of weakness to need a break
from the constant pushing, or to admit to needing someone.” Roland himself struggled with that
last one. It was hard to let anyone in, and even now he feared he had done so with Angel and
it … alarmed him somewhat.
“I just want to feel good again, to feel … real.”
“Do I make you feel good?” Roland asked, letting his hands slide and explore.
“You make me feel almost too good.” Angel moaned as his fingers dragged along that
thin spine.
“Is there such a thing as too good?” he asked, working to search out more sweet moans.
“There is so good that you can’t think anymore.”
“Isn’t that what you want?” It seemed to him that Angel had given up thinking in order to
keep pressing forward, to keep fulfilling the demands made of him.
“I …” Angel frowned again, shook his head. “No …”
“No? But it’s good to let go sometimes, Angel-love. To forget who you are and what
responsibilities lie on you. To just give yourself over to pleasure and feeling.”
“I don’t want to forget who I am …” Was that fluttering?
He wondered what form the meltdown would take, whether it was best to let it happen or
to head it off at the pass. He would press on – the things that bothered Angel were important to
explore.
“Not forever, just for a moment. A glorious moment of pleasure and wonder.”
“Those … those moments just … they aren’t true. They’re lies. Like drugs.
Not true. Roland snorted. They were the truest moments he knew. “What? Who told you
that?”
“I don’t have to be told.”
“Well, it’s not true. Not at all. When a man loses himself like that … well, that’s when
you really see what he’s made of. I will have to show you if you won’t believe me.” And he
would. Again and again and again until Angel knew pleasure for what it was – pure and blissful
and good.
“And you wonder why you scare me.” Angel pulled away, slid to sit at the end of the bed.
He sat up, watching Angel’s back for a moment before moving to massage the man once
more. “I do. Why does the thought of pleasure and strong feelings scare you? Why do I scare
you?”
“I. I don’t. It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does matter.” He popped off the bed and came around to kneel in front of Angel.
Holding Angel’s face between his palms, he stared into the icy eyes. “Everything about you
matters to me and I want an answer.”
Angel’s hands started shaking, the man’s pulse visible. “I want to talk to Jax. I want …
Can we go to the pool?”
He held firm, the cheeks under his palms growing hot. “When you’ve answered my
question we may go to the pool.”
“I don’t want to do this. I’m scared. I just could get lost.”
Such fear. “It’s all right to be scared. And if you get lost, I’m here to help you find your
way again.”
“It’s not all right. It’s not. And you won’t stay. No one ever stays except for Jaxie and he
says I have to be strong, be brave.” Once the words started, they just tumbled out.
“I will stay – you’ll see. And being brave and strong is doing things even though you’re
scared. It’s easy to be strong if nothing scares you. Why do I scare you, Angel-love? Because I’ll
go?”
“Because …” Angel opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I need a
shower. I’m going to take a shower.”
“No. You’re going to tell me why I scare you. And then you can shower, we can go to the
pool, we can eat sweets until we burst. But you are going to tell me.” He could be stubborn, too.
In fact, it was one of his strongest personality traits.
“Make me.” Was that a threat or a plea for help? Maybe both?
“I will, Angel-love.” His words were a promise.
“You can’t.” Angel leaned down, rested against his touch, his hands.
“You won’t shower or go to the pool until you do.” He kissed the top of Angel’s head.
Those eyes flashed up at him, challenging him. “I’m not a prisoner here.”
And yet, in a way, Angel was, though of his own making. “You don’t want to go out
there and be seen, Angel. I know that.”
“No. No, there are people out there who …” Angel shook his head, the look on the lean
face frantic. “I really need to stop.”
“Look at me, Angel.” Roland snapped out the order, waiting for Angel’s startled eyes to
meet his again. “You don’t need to do anything, but answer my question. The outside world
doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that exists is what’s between you and me.”
“I could need you. You … I don’t want to get lost in you and then be back to the real
world and I can’t do it.”
He cupped Angel’s cheek. “I promise you that I will not abandon you.”
“I want to believe you.”
“But you don’t.” Roland knew that kind of trust had to be earned. “You will.” He kissed
Roland softly and then stood. “Let’s go swim.”
“Honestly?” How many times had Angel been promised things that didn’t come true?
“Yes, Angel-love,” he replied patiently. “I said we would once you’d answered my
question.”
“I love the water.” Angel stood, putting on some clothes. “Are you coming with me?”
As if he’d leave Angel to his own devices at this stage. “Yes. I am.”
He pulled on only a pair of sweatpants himself, eager to get to the water, to see the
sadness and fatigue leave Angel’s eyes.
He thought he heard Angel whisper, “Good.”
He kept his smile to himself, offering his hand to Angel. Long, thin fingers twined with
his, Angel pressing close, trusting in him. He held onto Angel’s hand and tilted the lovely face
up with his other hand, taking a long kiss. Angel moaned, tongue sliding against his, just a bit.
So responsive. He thought he liked that the best.
Their lips parted slowly and he smiled. “Come now. Water. Wet.”
“Yes. Yes, please.” For someone who’d had everything, this tiny kindness made Angel
shiver.
“Many on your home planet have gills. You do not.” He had, after all, made a thorough
examination of Angel’s body, several times over. “With your love of the water, why?”
“Jaxie took me to have them removed when I reached the age of consent, so my voice
wouldn’t change.” Ah, another joy sacrificed to the great god of song, the machine that seemed
to have rolled over Angel’s life.
The lift arrived and he escorted Angel onto it, pressing the button for the penthouse.
Angel seemed to shrink, to get smaller and hide under all the cloth, just vibrating as he waited.
He stroked Angel’s back. “We’re almost there. And we won’t meet anyone on the way.”
Malachi had assured him of this.
The pool would be empty but for the two of them, and he would make sure that Angel
swam until he had found some peace.
And perhaps some healing.
Chapter Fourteen: Minuet Adores His Master
Minuet watched Mr. Jax sleep fitfully. He knew Jax was very worried about his friend
and it was wearing on the beautiful man. Now this friend had someone to care for him, someone
hand picked by Mal himself. It was time Mr. Jax took care of himself. And Minuet could help
with that.
He slipped out of bed, the heavy plug within him shifting and making him groan. His
hard cock bobbed against his belly, but he ignored it and the ache in his ass and balls. They
would be taken care of soon enough, he was sure.
Concerned as Mr. Jax had been for his friend, the man had incredible focus and had made
Minuet fly. Humming beneath his breath, Minuet made his preparations.
He lit candles, softly scented with vanilla. He brought a bright, fresh lime juice along
with two glasses from the kitchen. A quick call to the kitchens had also garnered him two
beautiful little puff pastries with warm brie and berries inside them. On another tray he put out
some toys: a cock ring, a larger plug, a vibrating wand and a strand of pearls that ran from one no
bigger than the tip of his little finger to one that was several inches across. He warmed some oil
and placed a tube of lube on the tray with the toys.
He double checked all his preparations, nearly vibrating with his eagerness to take care of
his Mr. Jax.
He sat on the edge of the bed, debating on whether he should wait until Jax woke on his
own, or wake the man up now as he was obviously not sleeping well. Mr. Jax frowned, the lines
around the fine mouth deepening.
Oh, no, he couldn’t let Mr. Jax continue to sleep when it made him frown like that.
Minuet dipped his fingers into the oil and began to massage Jax’s temples. He received a soft,
deep moan for his work, Jax relaxing, leaning into his touch.
Oh, yes.
With a happy little hum, he continued, fingers moving carefully but firmly over Mr. Jax’s
face, easing the tension there.
“Minuet, my pretty gift.” Those strong hands wrapped around his waist, pulled him close.
He shifted so he was lying along the length of his Jax’s body. “Yours, Sir.”
“Mm-hmm. All mine.” One hand slid down his spine, landed at his ass, nudging the plug.
Gasping, he jerked, his prick dragging along Mr. Jax’s skin.
Jax smiled, licked at his lips. “My hungry Pet.”
“Yes. You make me hungry, Sir.” Made him need and want.
“It is good to hear, to know you want me.”
“Oh, I do. So very much.”
The plug was twisted, tugged just enough that he gasped and ached for it.
“Please, sir. More.” He shifted, ass pushing back, searching for that hand again.
Jax hummed, pulling the plug nearly out, then pressing it back in again. His back arched,
his whole body rippling.
“Beauty …” His lips were taking in a deep, harsh kiss.
He moaned, offering himself over to his lover, his master.
“Mmm” The plug took him, filling him, over and over, heavy enough to make him ache.
It made him fly and he cried out, rocking back and forth.
Mr. Jax sat up, tugged him over the strong thighs, fucking him hard now, working the
plug hard. His prick rubbed against Jax’s thighs as he humped up into each thrust of the plug.
Moans and groans and desperate sounds came from his throat.
“That’s right, my sweet Minuet.” Jax pushed him farther and farther.
“Please,” he begged, his hands opening and closing in the cool, silk sheets.
“Yes. Yes, Pet. Come for me.” The plug was seated, twisted, pleasure screaming up his
spine.
He cried out, his whole body bowing as seed shot out of his prick.
Jax hummed softly, touch easing, leaning back onto the bed.
He rubbed a little more, stretching and rubbing against Jax’s thighs. “Can I do something
for you, Sir?”
“Please. Touch me.” Jax spread for him, heavy cock red and wet-tipped.
“May I use my mouth as well as my fingers, Sir?” He wanted so much to bring Mr. Jax
every pleasure he possibly could.
“You may use all your skills. Make me fly.”
“Oh, thank you, Sir.” He pressed kisses across Mr. Jax’s thighs, his hands kneading the
strong muscles. Those heavy legs spread, the velvet-soft balls hanging down. He kissed each one
gently, and then pulled one into his mouth, sucking strongly. That earned him a long, low cry,
one of Jax’s legs pulling up and out.
The scent of man rose up from Jax’s body, making him moan and he dared to pushed his
face between Jax’s legs and lick.
“Minuet... Yes.” Oh. Oh, that was for him.
His fingers slid over Jax’s beautiful belly, tips teasing across the long, hard cock. His
lover’s prick bobbed and bounced, jumping against his touch. He continued to stroke it, fingers
carefully spreading the liquid that slipped from the slit. His tongue tasted Jax’s hole, rubbing
over it and pushing in. He loved the surprised sounds, the motions, the pure need inside his lover.
He kept fucking with his tongue, his hand wrapping tight around the long prick and
jerking it.
“Minuet!” That sound was shocked, loud. Happy.
It made him work harder, his tongue stabbing into that hot, tight hole. His hand tightened,
urging more pleasure into his master. Heat poured over his fingers, bathing his hand with damp,
slick seed. Moaning happily, he took one last lick and then moved on up to clean the long prick
and his own hand.
“You are a jewel.” Mr. Jax leaned back, eyes closed, heart pounding in the man’s chest.
“Thank you, Sir.” He dipped his fingers into the oil and began to massage Jax’s shoulders
and chest. “Are you hungry? I have brought some juice and some pastries, Sir.”
“Mmm. That sounds like heaven, Minuet.”
“Anything for you, Sir.” He climbed off the bed and poured out some of the juice,
bringing it and the little plate over to the bed. “May I feed you, Sir?”
“That would be welcome. Yes.”
He broke a part of one of the little pastries off, and offered it to his Master. “Warm brie
and berries fill the pastry, Sir.”
“Oh, it smells of … nuts.”
“And how does it taste?” he asked, popping the morsel into Mr. Jax’s mouth.
Jax just moaned, chewing, the man’s face a picture of bliss. Minuet knew he would do
anything to keep that look there.
He took a drink of the juice and offered it to Mr. Jax from his lips. Jax’s hand slid behind
his head, tilted him so that Jax might drink from him. His master’s touch was addictive, no
matter how small or large, no matter whether it was to arouse him or simply to touch.
Jax smiled into his eyes, tongue searching his mouth. The taste of the shared juice was
sharp and sweet between, but far better was the flavor of Mr. Jax’s mouth itself. So strong and
male.
Jax pulled back, groaning as their lips separated with a pop. “Again.”
“Yes, Sir.” He took another mouthful of the juice and brought their mouths together
again, loving the warmth and silkiness of his master’s lips.
His scalp was massaged, fingers digging in, loving on him. He moaned, his prick trying
to fill again, each touch a drug. This kiss was longer, sweeter, Jax feeding from his lips. He
reveled in it, in the pleasure and peace he could read on Jax’s face.
Jax leaned back, the warm arms wrapping around him.
He settled in, head on Jax’s shoulder.
He felt at peace himself.
They were a good match.
Chapter Fifteen: Jax Admires Minuet
Jax rolled his shoulders, stared at his Minuet, who was slowly riding a thick dildo for
him, using a bar above his head to pull up, and then slowly sink back down on the thick cock.
Lovely.
He walked around, admiring the long, sweat-sheened body.
“How does it feel, lovely one?”
Dark chocolate eyes blinked and slowly focused on him. Minuet’s smile was bright
against the dark skin. “Thick. Full. Good.” Those eyes rolled back into Minuet’s head as the man
lowered himself again, the wide phallus spreading him.
“Mm. Don’t stop.” He let his fingers trail down Minuet’s belly, gathering the slick sweat
before teasing the full shaft.
Minuet’s whimpers were sweet, such needy little sounds. And they increased as he
touched Minuet’s belly and cock, becoming almost cries.
“Beautiful.” He could watch this for hours.
“For you, Master.” Minuet’s gaze clung to him.
“Yes. For you.” He leaned in, took a long, hard kiss.
Minuet’s mouth opened to his automatically, tongue sliding along his. A soft moan
pressed into him. He slid his hand to cup the heavy ball sac, pressing just a touch, enough to feel.
Minuet whimpered again, stilling, his arms shaking as they held the beautiful body suspended
over the dildo.
“Mm. How are your arms, Minuet. Do you need support?”
Minuet didn’t answer right away, obviously taking the time to assess and then answer
honestly. “I can continue for a short while more, Master. But only a short while.”
He nodded and took one more kiss in reward for the sweet honesty. Then he headed to
the cabinet and pulled out a soft, sling-like support. He attached it to the bar holding Minuet’s
wrists and wrapped it under the lean arms, around Minuet’s shoulders, supporting the bulk of the
man’s weight.
“Better?”
“Oh, yes.” Minuet nodded and tested the sling, moving up and down, the support moving
with him, taking most of the weight. Minuet beamed at him. “Thank you, Master.”
“Mm. Perfect.” Pain didn’t interest him, only pleasure.
Minuet continued to slowly raise himself up and down, the sweet sounds loudest
whenever the thickest part of the dildo spread the man.
The buzz of the comm unit was a loud and unwelcome intrusion. He tried ignoring it, but
the damned thing kept buzzing and buzzing.
“What?” He demanded as he hit the button.
Roland’s voice came across the comm. “I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”
“I …” He smiled over at Minuet, admiring. “We’re exercising. Is Angel okay?”
“He’s doing well. That’s actually why I’m comming you. I thought you’d like an
update.”
“I would.” He settled on a comfortable chair, legs sprawled, eyes watching Minuet as the
dear man moved. Up and down, nice and slowly, dark brown skin glistening. It was almost
distracting. Almost.
“We’re doing really well. I’ve discovered a love of water that goes above almost
everything else. Angel’s getting the sleep he needs, pleasure, reward. I think perhaps he’s ready
for an intimate, quiet dinner for the four of us. Would you be able to arrange that for say
tomorrow evening?”
“I believe that would suit us well.” Water. Hmm. It didn’t surprise him, not with Angel’s
background. “He’s off the medication fully?”
“Cold turkey. There was no other way to do it. He wasn’t happy at first, as I’m sure you
heard through the walls, but he’s beginning to see that I’m not here to hurt him, not in the long
run.” Roland cleared his throat and spoke more quietly. “Jax, you don’t have anymore shows set
up for him to do, do you?”
“No.” He lowered his voice. “He’s tired, Roland. Nearly destroyed. He’s given so much
to the music, I don’t think he ought to give more.”
He could hear the relief in Roland’s sigh. “From what I understand from Angel, the
music company is going to want him back, badly and as soon as possible. I needed to know you
were on board with a full retirement. Going out into that world again would devastate him
absolutely, no matter how much he heals here.”
“He is the son of my heart. The label can hang, for all I care.”
“I think you and I are going to get along very well, Jax. We’ll see you tomorrow evening
for that dinner. Say eight o’clock in the living room?”
“That sounds perfect. Shall I ask Minuet to arrange the food with the kitchen?”
“Please. I’d like it to be informal in feeling – no pressure – maybe we can sit around the
coffee table and indulge in finger foods? That way we can all relax, talk, have a good time.”
Jax looked up at Minuet, eyebrow cocked, waiting for a response.
“Whatever you wish, Master Jax. I’ll arrange for it.”
“Thank you, my dear.” He offered Minuet a smile. He’d have to jack the man off. Later.
“We’ll have it done, Roland.”
“Thank you, Jax, I appreciate it. I’m sure you know all of Angel’s favorites and I’ll eat
anything. See you tomorrow then.” The connection was closed.
He dropped the comm, opened his pants and took his cock in hand. “There. We should be
undisturbed the rest of the evening.”
Minuet licked his lips and whimpered, beautiful eyes on his cock as he touched himself.
“Are you going to be able to come, just from that fat prick spreading you wide?” He ran
his thumb along his shaft, touching just the way he liked it.
A low groan filled the room. “I will do whatever you command, Master.”
“You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, Minuet.”
“For you, Master.” So eager to please, Minuet was the consummate sub.
“Yes. For me.” He spread wider, hips bucking up into his touch.
Moaning, Minuet began to speed his movements, rising and falling to match the way he
touched himself. They breathed together, eyes fastened to each other, the need and heat climbing
furiously.
Minuet’s arm muscles flexed as he lifted and lowered himself. Jax watched, fascinated,
hungry, addicted to the play of muscles. Minuet’s moans grew desperate, his cock leaking
copiously.
“Soon, my gift. Soon. With me.”
“On your word, Master.” He could hear the strain in Minuet’s voice, his beauty would
hold off forever if he demanded it.
He nodded, speeding his hand, tugging harder on his cock, feeling the pressure in his
balls. His thumbnail nudged his cockhead and he arched, grunting. “Now. Now, mine.”
“Yes! Master!” Minuet went down hard on the dildo, back arching as come shot up over
his belly and chest.
He grit his teeth, heat spreading over his fingers as he worked through his orgasm,
rocking and moaning low.
As soon as he could focus, he was up, helping Minuet up and off the sling, the phallus.
Minuet reveled in each of his touches, the solid hands moving on him as well, touching and
petting.
“Thank you, Master.”
“Mm.” He eased them down onto the bed, humming softly.
Minuet curled in, warm and pliant, his.
Home. Jax smiled, kissed Minuet’s forehead and slept.
Chapter Sixteen: Minuet Prepares for Dinner
Minuet dressed in light linens and went down to the kitchens to speak to Moffat. He
could have called down, but he hadn’t left Master Jax’s rooms since he’d arrived and he thought
it would be good to remind himself there was a world outside those rooms.
And then he could go back and lose himself with Master Jax again.
“Minuet!” Moffat called out to him, wiping the thick, solid hands on a cloth before
hugging him. “Look at your face. You’ve found someone special.”
“How did you know?”
Moffat laughed, wild hair contained by a chef’s hat. “All I had to do is look -- it’s written
all over you.”
He smiled at his old friend. “Yes, I have found a Master.”
“In the penthouse?”
“Yes.”
“So the rumors are true then.”
“I don’t know what rumors you’re talking about.” He truly didn’t as he’d been with
Master Jax full-time, though of course he could imagine what they might be.
Moffat patted his arm. “Good job. There are plenty, as you can imagine, but no one is
confirming anything.”
“A test?” Moffat was the club chef, why would he be administering tests?
“No … I was curious to know which one was true. Hey, I’m only human.” Moffat looked
a little sheepish. “Come, come, I’m sure you came down for a reason?”
“I need to prepare dinner for four. For this evening. Favorites have been programmed into
the club system.”
Moffat hit some buttons, a list of foods coming up on the screen. “Hmm … how about
rather than a regular meal with only a few of these items I make a whole bunch of mini-items? A
tasting menu using the entire list?”
“Oh, that would be wonderful!” To be able to offer Master Jax’s guests all their favorites
instead of just one or two would be perfect. “Do you have enough time to do all that in a couple
of hours?”
“I do. We’re ahead of the game this afternoon, so I can focus on your special order. Are
the house wines good enough or do you want the really high end stuff?”
“No, no alcohol. Water and fresh juices, please. Tea to go with the dessert courses.”
He could see the curiosity in Moffat’s eyes, but the chef didn’t question him this time.
“I’ll take care of everything for you, Minuet. Would you like us to set up for you, or just leave
everything at the door?”
“The door, please. My Master is very private.”
“Understood. If you go through the decorating page on there and choose flowers, candles,
whatnot, I’ll make sure it’s all delivered together.”
“Thank you, Moffat.” Minuet gave his friend another hug before spending quite some
time going through the different things that were available and making his choices.
Then made his way back up to his Master’s rooms with a boxful of pastries Moffat had
slipped him while he chose the decorations. He detoured only long enough to pick up some oils
from the massage center, but there was still only a little bit of time left before their guests would
arrive by the time he got back.
“Master?” he called quietly as he came home, not wanting to wake Master Jax if he was
napping.
“Mm. Yes, Minuet?” Jax was sitting up on the couch, rubbing his temples.
“Is everything all right, sir?” He put his boxes down and went to the couch, kneeling at
his Master’s feet.
“Headache. Did you arrange our meal, lovely one?”
“I did. It’s going to be fabulous and easy and delicious. Can I give you a massage? I
picked up some oils from Master Bowie.”
“Oh. You are a treasure.” Jax smiled for him, winked. “I believe that relaxing may be
hard work.”
“It isn’t something you are used to, is it, sir?” He grabbed one of the oils and climbed up
onto the couch, sliding behind his Master’s body and pulling the man back against his chest. His
lightly oiled fingers found Jax’s temples.
“Not at all. I hope to become a master at it.”
“You can do anything you set your mind to, sir, I’m sure.” He rubbed Jax’s temples, and
beside his eyes, and then massaged Jax’s scalp.
“Oh …” His master moaned, leaned harder. The enjoyment was heady.
“Would you like some soft music, sir?” He’d programmed the comm to play for them.
“That would be lovely.”
He reached for the portable comm on the coffee table and hit a few buttons, soft music
beginning to play.
“Oh, that’s nice. Do you know much about music?”
“Not really, sir. I like instrumental music, though.”
“I do, too. Don’t get me wrong, I love Angel’s voice, but …” His master began rambling,
talking idly about nothing at all.
He just kept rubbing, massaging Master Jax’s head and shoulders. His master talked and
talked, the words slowing as his master relaxed. He dared to drop a soft kiss beneath Jax’s right
ear, breathing in the clean, male scent of him.
“Mmm.” Jax nodded, offering him more skin.
He took the offer eager, pressing one soft kiss after another along Jax’s neck, and then his
shoulders. His hands still worked the tight muscles, urging relaxation and pleasure together.
“I … You take exceptional care of me, lovely one.”
“It was what I was made for.” He had been only waiting until Master Jax had come to
him.
Jax leaned back, caught his lips in a kiss. “Thank the universe.”
He moaned, offering his lips again.
Jax pulled him around, into the warm lap. “I want you.”
“You have me, Master. Anything.”
“Are you ready for my cock?”
“Yes, sir.” He was always ready for whatever Master Jax had planned.
Jax leaned back. “Get me ready then, Minuet. You’ll ride me.”
“Yes, sir.”
He slid down to his knees between Jax’s legs, opening the button fly. The heavy cock
was half-hard, filling and pushing up toward his lips. He took it in, tugging on it gently. Master
Jax’s flavor leaked onto his tongue, making him moan, making him need. Jax spread, hips
rocking up toward his mouth.
He opened wide, letting Jax in and sucking enthusiastically, his saliva coating Jax’s cock.
Hands landed on his scalp, petting his skin, encouraging him. He resisted nuzzling into the
touches in favor of bringing pleasure as he slicked up his Master’s thick cock. Jax’s cock filled
his mouth, filled his throat.
Once Jax was to full hardness, Minuet pulled back, admiring the shining cock. “Now, sir?
May I ride you now?”
“Yes. Yes, fuck yourself on my cock.”
“Thank you, sir.” He climbed back up to straddle Master Jax’s thighs, guiding the thick
cock to his hole.
Jax leaned back, eyes sharp and dark, staring down at where they were going to be
joined. Minuet watched his Master’s face as he slowly lowered himself down over the broad
heat, Jax’s cock spreading him wide.
“Mine.” That single word was full of a pure, rich pleasure.
A shudder went through him. “Yes, sir.” He began to move on Master Jax’s cock, thighs
working as he rode. Warm hands slid up his legs, thumbs digging into the muscles, massaging
and making him moan.
“Master. Master.” He rode faster, his hands sliding along Jax’s chest and shoulders.
“Yes. Your master.” Those hands landed on his hips, yanking him down harder.
He nodded, electricity shooting through his body as Jax’s prick hit his gland.
“You cannot climax until I do.” The words were nearly growled.
He moaned, but he would obey. “Yes, Master.” He clenched his body around Jax’s cock,
his whole body thrumming.
Jax’s head fell back, hips jerking. “Again.”
He did it again, holding Jax’s prick tight as it slid away.
“Yes …” Jax pulled him down, the motions of those hips quick and fierce, slamming into
him.
“Master!” He met those thrusts, dropping down onto Jax’s cock, his ass hitting his
Master’s hips.
“Now.” Heat filled him, Jax’s cock throbbing and bucking inside him.
“Master!” He cried out, his body squeezing Jax’s cock so tight as he came.
Jax moaned, fingers bruising his skin as he shot. He moaned loudly, entire body tight
with pleasure, and then he collapsed against Jax.
Jax’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close. “Excellent.”
“Thank you, Master.”
A throat cleared, making him stiffen. “Are we early?”
Chapter Seventeen: Dinner for Four
“Are we early?” The words left Roland’s mouth, sounding loud in the suddenly silent
room. Roland was pretty sure they were not in fact early, but that Jax and his sub had lost track
of time.
He squeezed Angel’s hand, looking over to see how the lovely man was dealing with
seeing his agent, his friend, in such a compromising position. Angel refused to look, head turned,
hiding in the long, lovely hair.
“Why don’t we give you a couple minutes, Jax? We can come back.” Roland backed
toward the door they’d just come through, tugging Angel with him.
Jax looked up, grinned and nodded. “We’ll be two heartbeats.”
Angel shook his head, pulling away. “I’m not hungry.”
“Give us a few minutes,” he told Jax before closing the door, separating himself and
Angel from Jax and Minuet.
He wrapped around Angel, not letting the man hide from him. “Talk to me, Angel-love.”
Angel shook his head, eyes shut tight.
“You know you can’t hide from me.”
“I can do anything I want to.”
Roland chuckled. “Of course you can. And in the end, we do it my way. So we can take
an hour to do this, or we can do it now.”
Angel’s eyes went wide, cheeks flushing with pure fury. Oh, that passion was better than
the shuttered, closed off man of a second ago.
“You do have a choice. We can talk before we go back and have dinner with Jax and
Minuet, or we can talk after.”
“Talk about what? I don’t have anything to talk about.”
“Then let’s go eat.”
“I don’t … Jaxie was busy.”
“He invited us and he said he’d be ready for us in two heartbeats. They’re ready for us
now.” He gave Angel a kiss, refusing to let the man dwell.
“I don’t ever want to see that again.”
“No, I could live without it myself.” He took Angel’s hand and squeezed. “Suffice it to
say, you and I are not voyeurs.”
He wasn’t sure what he said that settled Angel out, but his lover relaxed a bit, actually
laughed.
This time he didn’t open the door after knocking, but instead waited. Minuet opened it for
them, giving them a bow of welcome. Angel stared at Minuet, lips tight, the look hostile and
scared and sad, all at once.
“Angel, he’s not your enemy.” Jax shook his head. “He’s my lover.”
Minuet gave another bow. “I have been looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Angel.”
“My name’s just Angel.”
Roland completed the introductions. “And Angel, this is Minuet.”
Angel nodded, and then looked over at Jax. “I missed you.”
“I know. You needed some ti …”
“Don’t tell me what I needed. I asked for you and you didn’t come. You doled me out
because you didn’t want to deal with me and I got lucky.”
Jax’s lips went tight. “Well, you’re still a little smartass, Ange. I missed you too. Very
much. You look so healthy.”
Roland gave Angel a sharp look. “Jax didn’t come because I told him he couldn’t. I made
it clear that what you needed – what you and I needed – was time on our own. Don’t take it out
on him.”
“It’s his job. I pay him extremely well to take whatever I need him to.”
“Angel. I’d like us to have supper with Jax and Minuet. But if you’re going to be an
asshole, then you’re obviously not ready for this and we can go back to our rooms and you can
take whatever I dish out.” It was natural, he supposed, for Angel to have moved from fear to
anger, but Roland knew they needed to reconnect.
Angel’s eyes flashed and Jax cleared his throat, the sound odd, unusual, but Angel
stopped, lips tightening before a casual, empty expression crossed the lovely face. “Of course.
What’s that lovely smell, Jaxie?”
“Minuet arranged it. I haven’t seen it yet. I’ve only smelled it.”
“It’s a tasting menu,” Minuet murmured quietly, standing a half a foot behind and to the
side of Jax. “A little bit of everyone’s favorites. It’s all ready if you’d like to come sit.”
Roland bit back his sigh. He’d been hoping Angel would be ready for this. He wasn’t
entirely sure he’d been right. Still, they were here now. “It does smell good.”
Jax stroked the small of Minuet’s back, whispering something soft that made the lovely
sub relax and smile.
“Come on, Angel.” He led Angel to the table, pulling out the man’s chair and then sitting
next to him. He leaned over and did a little whispering of his own. “If you behave and try to
enjoy yourself, I’ll take you swimming afterwards.”
“Promise?” Those lovely eyes held his, confused and worried.
He stroked Angel’s arm. “I do, Angel-love. You can do this. Jax is your friend.”
“Are you? Are you my friend, still?”
Jax met Angel’s eyes. “I am. I’m your family, Ange. I wanted to bring you somewhere
that you could get healthy.”
“It truly is my fault that Jax has had no contact with you, Angel. We needed to bond and I
knew that Jax wouldn’t be able to withstand your pleading the way I can.” Angel needed
someone who didn’t have that history.
Angel met Jax’s eyes across the table, and then the lean man hurtled into Jax’s arms,
wailing, apologizing.
Jax looked a touch … stunned. “Hey. Hey, Angel. You’re okay, lovely. Everything is
fine.”
Roland let it go on a moment and then touched Angel’s back, catching his attention. “All
right, all right. Sit. Eat. Let’s have a normal dinner together, hmm?” Angel was going to strain
his voice again if he wasn’t careful.
“Like anything’s normal with us, hmm?” Jax chuckled, holding up a bottle of crystal
juice. “For you and Angel?”
“You know I love that, Jax. You don’t have to ask.”
Roland held out his and Angel’s glasses while Minuet served their first course.
There was a deconstructed salad served on rectangle plates. It looked like Moffat had
done his usual stellar job. All the food was lovely and Angel ate surprisingly well, jabbering at
Jax about everything. Jax, for his part, seemed to listen to about a third of Angel’s words, just
nodding and eat, hand on Minuet. It did Roland’s heart good to see this meeting going so much
better than their brief encounter of several days earlier.
The black beauty next to Jax kept their plates and glasses full, eating sparingly and
paying devout attention to Jax. The man was a pure sub and obviously finding bliss with Angel’s
former manager.
The words kept coming, faster and faster, the dynamic between Jax and Angel
fascinating. Angel was obviously used to being the center of Jax’s world, of Jax being the only
real thing for him. Jax, on the other hand, seemed exhausted, almost battered by Angel’s need.
When the meal was over, Minuet offered tea, but Roland shook his head. “No, Angel and
I have to go. We have a date with the swimming pool. Thank you for having us, though, Jax,
Minuet. It was a lovely meal.”
“It was. It was good. I miss you. See us soon?” Angel addressed this, as he had every
word, to Jax.
Jax nodded, smiled over. “Yes. Yes, sweet boy. Enjoy your swim.”
“He will.” Roland would see to that. He shook Jax’s hand. “Enjoy your days and your
sub.”
“You too. I believe we’ll have a nap, hmm?” Jax did look exhausted, worn.
“Yes, Master.” Minuet bowed to Jax and was there immediately, massaging the man’s
temples.
Roland took Angel’s hand and led him back the way they’d come, to the door that
separated their rooms from each other.
It was odd, he felt such a connection with Angel, had from the very first, and he knew
Angel had a strong connection with Jax, but dinner had felt strange, like looking in from the
outside. He hoped, though, that both Jax and Angel had felt some measure of comfort from the
meeting.
Angel pushed into his arms as soon as the door closed, cuddling in. He couldn’t help but
feel good, having Angel turning so easily to him.
“You did well. You reconnected, hmm?”
“Yes. Yes, but …” Angel leaned hard, squeezed.
“But what?” He held on, letting Angel have his strength, letting Angel have him.
“I was done. I needed you.” Angel relaxed, trusting him.
He nodded. “I know. And I’m here for you. Jax loves you and would do anything for you,
but he can’t give you what you need, Angel. Not like I can.” His hands slid along Angel’s back.
“No. No, I need you. I need this and you.” Angel hummed softly.
“And I’m here for you, Angel. You can always count on me to give you what you need.”
He chuckled softly. “Even when it isn’t what you want.”
Lips brushed his jaw, the kiss gentle, almost breathtaking. Moaning softly he turned his
face so the contact moved to their lips. Angel smiled, the kiss enough to make his knees weak.
His hands slid to Angel’s shirt, fingers popping the buttons so he could touch that smooth
skin on his fingertips. Those happy little moans continued, Angel’s kisses getting deeper, still
soft. He pushed the shirt off Angel’s shoulders and moaned in appreciation as his hands
explored.
“Love me. Please.” Angel rubbed, almost dancing against him.
“I am, Angel-love. Feel.” He rubbed one little nipple, and then the other, mouth sliding
along Angel’s jaw and down to his neck.
“Feel. Feel you …” Angel stretched, letting him in.
He tugged open Angel’s pants, pushed them down over his hips so they landed at about
his knees. Then Roland walked them, pushing Angel ahead of him until they got to the bed.
Angel finished stripping for him, and it did not escape his attention that Angel had chosen
to make love before getting in the water. He tugged off his clothes before following Angel down
onto the bed. He got a happy sound, Angel reaching for him.
He kissed Angel again and then slid his mouth downward, hands moving on the fine skin
as well as he drowned Angel in sensation. His beautiful, needy man shifted and slid, desperate
for his hands, for his touch.
Eventually he grabbed a tube of lube and slicked up his fingers, sliding them against
Angel’s hole.
“Yes.” Angel pushed down against his touch, lips parting.
He teased one fingertip in, and then the next, slowly working two fingers in.
“Mm. There. So good.”
“There? Or here?” He nudged against Angel’s gland as he said “here”.
Angel’s eyes went wide. “Oh.”
Grinning, Roland continued to push his finger against that little spot. Angel undulated,
stomach tight, happy cries filling the air. It was the loveliest of songs. He changed it by removing
his fingers and slipping his cock inside Angel instead.
Long legs wrapped around him, Angel clinging to him, eyes open, watching every move.
Holding that gaze, he moved with long, slow thrusts, settling all the way in before he began
pulling out again.
This was less about passion, than about comfort, the two of them moving together and
making love, enjoying each other. It was a joy to take a moment like this.
He moved faster as his body’s need began to take over, his balls drawing up against his
body. His Angel was right there, moving with him, rocking with him.
He wrapped his hand around the man’s cock. “Come with me,” he murmured.
“Yes. Yes, please.” That smile was enough to melt the hardest, coldest man.
“Now!” He cried out as his balls let go and he shot deep into Angel’s body, his hand
tightening its grip around Angel’s prick.
Wet heat spread over his fingers, Angel’s body fluttering around him. Groaning, he
collapsed down onto Angel, panting softly, breathing in the sweet sweat smell of the man. Angel
hummed, singing softly, the sound hoarse.
“That’s lovely,” he murmured. “But watch your voice, Angel-love.”
Soon. Soon, Angel would be well enough he could sing and laugh and shout whenever he
wanted, maybe even deal with people for longer than it took to eat a meal.
“If we nap, love, then can we swim?”
“Yes.” He kissed the side of Angel’s neck, touched by the endearment. “Yes.”
And then he’d bring Angel back and make him scream for all the right reasons.
Chapter Eighteen: Jax Asks the Question
Minuet cleared away the dishes as quietly and quickly as he could.
He didn’t understand all the undercurrents that had been going on during the dinner. He
knew Angel and Jax had been close, that Jax had been more than just the manager of Angel’s
career, but knowing that and understanding it were two different things.
As soon as he was finished clearing and had their rooms back to rights, he went and knelt
at Jax’s feet, needing to give comfort.
“What does my Master require?”
“Come here, love. Touch me.” He knew his master loved his hands, the way he soothed.
“A massage, Master, or more?” He would go behind the couch and work on Mr. Jax’s
shoulders properly if he required a full massage. Poor, dear man felt everything so deeply.
“A massage, then more.” Jax drew him up for a kiss. “You ease me, Minuet.”
He groaned into the kiss, giving himself over to his beautiful Master. “I try, sir. I really
do.”
Then he shifted, moving around so he could give Mr. Jax a proper massage, beginning
with the tight shoulders and neck. “You’re so tight.”
“Angel … worries me. In so many ways he’s a child.”
“Don’t you think Mr. Roland can help him?”
He kept working Mr. Jax’s muscles, easing them.
“I have to believe that, love. I need to.” Mr. Jax sighed, head rolling forward. “He’s been
my ward, my focus for many years.”
“Such a big responsibility.” He manipulated Mr. Jax’s neck.
“He’s brilliant. Everyone wants to be with him. Oh, so good.”
“With Angel you mean?” He worked his way down Mr. Jax’s spine.
“Yes. I never … It’s not that I don’t find him attractive, but he can’t give me what I need
and I can’t give him what he needs.”
Jax leaned forward, offering him more.
“You’ve had to keep the whole world away from him, let them see just what you and he
wanted them to see, haven’t you?” No wonder his master was so tired.
His master nodded, relaxing at his words.
“Is it weird? Not being the one to do for him anymore?” He’d felt the tension at dinner.
“No.” He felt Jax’s skin heat. “It’s a relief.”
“Oh …” He continued to knead Jax’s muscles, to slide his hands up and down the long
spine.
“I’m sorry. That was out of place.” Jax began to tense slightly.
“No, sir, you can say anything to me. I was just … surprised.” He redoubled his efforts to
help Jax relax. “And I think … maybe you feel guilty for it?”
It would explain the tensions, the tightness now.
“Yes. Yes, of course I do.”
He thought about that for awhile, wondering how he could ease his master’s feelings.
“Did you bring him here and give him to Roland so you wouldn’t have to be responsible for him
anymore, or because it was what he needed?”
“Because it was what he needed. He was dying, spiralling out of control. I would have
taken care of him forever, had I been able. He is like a son to me.”
Those words were sure. Confident.
“Then you don’t have anything to be guilty about, sir. You did this for him. It’s not
wrong if it also helped you relax and get some peace.”
And then he didn’t have to feel guilty either, for being so happy that circumstances had
brought his master to him.
“It brought me to you.” It was as if Jax echoed his thoughts.
“Yes, sir.” He moved around to kneel in front of his master again. “Yes, sir.”
Warm hands reached for him, fingers sliding on his skin.
Moaning, Minuet moved into the touches, almost dancing with them.
“Wanton man.” Jax found his nipples, pulled on them simultaneously.
He gasped, bucking toward Jax. “Yours. Your wanton man, sir.”
“Yes. Mine.” Jax’s growl surprised him. “And I will not share you.”
His cock went rock hard. “No, sir. No one else may have me.”
“No. I will keep you forever, if you’re willing. Happy.”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Jax. Please. I want that so much. I’ll wear your collar, sign a contract –
anything you want. Anything.” It was his most cherished dreams coming true.
“I’ll have it arranged.” His master tilted his head, lips pressing against his own, and they
shared their breath.
“Thank you, sir. Master. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Minuet. You ease me, soul deep.” Jax smiled, eyes twinkling. “You do
realize that the idea of me touching you, making you come was making Angel unnerved.”
His eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Yes. He prefers to believe I am … asexual.”
Minuet frowned, having expected jealousy to be a motivating factor. “Really? You
Master?” How could anyone not see how sexual a being his master was?
“Yes. Me. You don’t find me asexual?” Jax was laughing, that cock so hard, throbbing in
his soft pants.
“No, sir. Not from the first moment I met you.” He started laughing as well, the idea just
so foreign.
That anyone would look at his Jax and not need … Nonsense.
He shook his head as he slowly sobered. “That’s crazy.”
“Well, not everyone can want me like you do.”
“Even if they did they couldn’t have you.”
It was a bold statement for a submissive to make, but Mr. Jax had made his claim and
Minuet wished to make one, too.
Those eyes landed on him, the look heated. “No, Minuet. I am yours.”
“Yes, sir. Yes.” He continued boldly, pushing closer.
Jax dragged him closer, fingers sliding down to nudge the plug filling him.
Jerking, he cried out, hands reaching to hold on.
“Mm. No coming. You’ll wait, hold it in.”
“Yes, sir.” He would hold on forever if it was what Mr. Jax wanted.
“You’ll not come until tomorrow, when we sign our contract, together.”
“Oh, yes, sir. Tomorrow. Our contract.” The words filled him with joy and he pressed
close. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“Tomorrow. Our contract. Our agreement.” Jax sounded overjoyed.
“Thank you, sir,” he said again. He was almost fluttering with his excitement.
Jax lifted his face, stared into his eyes. “Thank you, Minuet.”
“It is my pleasure, Mr. Jax. My pleasure.”
“As it is mine.”
Chapter Nineteen: The Day Arrives
Minuet woke at five and was unable to go back to sleep.
He tried to count backwards from a hundred. He tried imagining himself as heavy and
falling into sleep. He tried willing himself to sleep.
Jacking off probably would have done it, but he would not touch himself without his
Master’s leave.
And he would not wake Mr. Jax when he so obviously needed his sleep.
Worried that his tossing and turning would indeed wake his master, Minuet slipped from
the bed and padded quietly from the room.
He went to the bathroom and filled the tub, adding a scented oil he knew his master
enjoyed to the water.
Then he slipped into the full tub, sinking in until he was engulfed up to his neck.
His eyes closed and, finally, he began to doze.
It was a quiet splashing that woke him, his master sliding in beside him, warming the
water.
“Master Jax!” He shifting, moving so that his master could sit between his legs and lean
against him.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Mm. You did not. I simply wished your company.” Jax leaned into him, humming
happily.
He ran his fingers along his master’s arms, rubbing the oiled water into the fine skin.
His master relaxed, smiled. “I have arranged for our contract.”
He couldn’t stop the shiver of excitement that went through him at the words. “Thank
you, Master.”
Without thinking, he pressed happy kisses over his master’s shoulders and the back of his
neck.
“We should discuss the length of our contract.” Jax’s hands slid down his thighs.
“I will sign anything you want.” He hoped that Mr. Jax wanted forever.
“I want you.”
“I am yours.” There was no hesitation, no doubt in him.
“Then I would have you until the end of time.”
“Oh, thank you, Master. Thank you.” He wrapped his arms around his master’s body and
held on.
“Yes, beloved one. You will be mine.”
“For all time.”
“Yes.” Jax’s words were firm.
“I think if I were any happier, I would die from it.”
“Nonsense. People don’t die from pleasure. They simply enjoy it.”
Minuet giggled. “Yes, Master.”
“Good man.” Those fingers moved along his thighs again.
He groaned at his master’s touch, knowing he wasn’t allowed to come until they had
signed the contract, and yet his master’s touch aroused him as completely as it always did.
“Not until the contract is signed, Minuet. The moment it is done, you may come for me.”
“I will, Master.”
He knew, hard or not, aroused or not, for the binding of himself to his master he would
offer his seed to his master.
“I know.” Jax honored him so. “I know, my gift.”
“Let me wash you?”
“Yes.” Jax nodded, stretched out against him, offering him the long, strong body.
He found the soap and slicked up his hands, running them over the long line, loving every
part of his master.
Jax arched for him, legs and arms moving idly.
His hands slid along Jax’s belly, moving downward. “May I pleasure you, Master?”
“Yes, Minuet. You may.”
“Thank you so much.” His fingers danced over Jax’s prick.
It took a bit of coaxing, but the heavy flesh began to fill for him, pushing up into his
touch.
He watched, the angle unique with Mr. Jax half reclining, half floating in front of him. He
was looking straight down at the beautiful cock, as close to Mr. Jax’s own view as he could
come. The head slowly grew larger and Minuet slid his fingers across the tip. They bounced over
the small slit as they passed.
That earned him a soft moan, a low cry, his master shifting for him.
He rubbed his cheek against his master’s head, humming happily as he worked Jax’s
prick, bringing it to full life. He reached with his other hand, rolling the sensitive balls in their
sac.
Jax spread, legs sprawled over toward the edges of the big tub.
“I love touching you, Master. I love knowing I’m bringing you pleasure.” That held true
whether he was touching his master or not.
His own cock was hard, rubbing against Mr. Jax’s ass every time his master floated back
against him, but he would not come. He had discipline, and his obedience brought them both
much pleasure.
“We are well-matched. I have never been so well-cared for. So loved. So happy.”
“And neither have I.” He slowly jacked Jax’s cock, his other hand moving to tweak his
master’s right nipple.
Jax’s laughter rang out, so happy, so full.
Tweaking and lightly pinching, he moved from one nipple to the other, and then back. He
dropped soft kisses on Mr. Jax’s shoulder.
“Yes.” The water began to splash, licking at the sides of the tub as Jax moved.
“Yours, Master.” He whispered the words, reveling in them. “I’m yours. Forever.”
“Yes.” Jax lifted up to look at him. “Mine.”
“Yes, master. All of me.”
He pulled harder on Jax’s cock.
Grunting, Jax’s pulled his knees up, ass sliding against his thighs. “Soon.”
“Let me see, Master. Please.”
His master responded beautifully, offering all the pleasure, the need, trusting him with it.
“I want to taste you when you come.”
Jax stood, suddenly, cock proud and fine, one hand held out to him. “Come to our bed.”
His eyes widened as he took his master’s hand. “Was I too bold, Master?”
“No. No.” Jax smiled, drew him close. “But I would watch you, watch your plugged ass
in the mirror, as you give me your mouth.”
He shuddered and nodded. “Yes, Master. Please.”
Nodding, Jax drew him into the bedroom, the heavy cock pointing the way.
He was nearly vibrating with anticipation as his Master led him to their bedroom.
“The contract is waiting. Hercules will come today, witness our joining.” Jax drew him
down into the rumpled sheets.
“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master. Let me taste you, Master. Please.”
“Yes. Pleasure me.”
He was eased down, offered that heavy cock.
Moaning happily, he licked at the tip.
Salty and male, the flavor exploded on his tongue.
He took the head between his lips, sucking hard, wanting the almost sweet drops of pre-
come.
“Minuet.” His master let him have his head, allowed him to taste and pleasure at his will.
He went slowly down on Jax’s prick, taking it all and swallowing around the tip.
Showing such control, Jax never moved, those eyes burning down at him.
He pulled up just as slowly, enjoying every inch as it slid from his lips.
“You have a lovely mouth. Almost as good as your ass.”
Master Jax’s words sent pleasure right through him.
He sucked harder, his head bobbing now.
“I will keep you forever. Fill you, adore you, desire you.”
He whimpered around his Master’s cock, sucking even harder, wanting only Jax’s
pleasure.
“Soon. Soon, my own Minuet. Take me in …” Jax’s voice broke, the cry filling the air.
He swallowed quickly, not losing a single drop.
He cleaned the flagging cock, tongue careful and gentle on the now-sensitive skin.
“Do you wish anything else, Master?”
The long arms were held open, the answer clear.
Minuet slid into Jax’s arms, his body pressed against his Master’s as he was held.
It would be wonderful to have, and it would prove to every one else what he already
knew.
He was home.
Chapter Twenty: Roland and Angel Make a Decision
Roland, already dressed in a comfortable, but formal suit, woke Angel with gentle kisses.
“Time to wake,” he said softly, pressing their lips together again.
There had been a request to come, again, to Jax and Minuet’s rooms after noon to witness
the signing of their contract.
Angel moaned and pressed closer to him, the lean body cuddling in, reluctant to wake. He
slid his hand down along Angel’s back, fingers dancing along the prominent spine.
“Mm. Do we have to go? Can’t we stay in?”
“Jax is signing a contract with Minuet. I think he’d like us to be there. You are his best
friend after all.” He slid his hand down to Angel’s ass, squeezing gently.
“I don’t like Minuet.” Look at that pout.
He hid his smile. “Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s not an answer.” He squeezed Angel’s ass again, pinching a little.
“I just don’t. He’s not good enough for Jax.”
“Oh, now, how can you know that? You’ve spent a single meal with him.” He tilted
Angel’s chin up and looked into the man’s eyes. “He can be bound to Minuet and still be your
friend, you know.”
“What if he leaves? What if he makes me leave with him?”
He opened his mouth to tell Angel that wouldn’t happen, but then he closed it again. Not
that he believed that Jax would do it, but if Jax did leave … “I think there’s still time for me to
call Hercules and have him draw up two contracts.”
“For you and me? I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay with you.”
“That’s what I mean. Hercules is drawing up a contract for Jax and Minuet and he could
draw up one for you and me.” He smiled into Angel’s eyes. “I want you to be with me and I will
sign a contract with you for as long as you want.”
“Honestly?” Those lovely eyes filled with tears. “Yes. Yes, please.”
“Oh, Angel.” He kissed both eyes and Angel’s forehead. “Hush, now. I told you I’m not
going anywhere and I meant it. Let me make that call.”
Angel nodded, clinging to him a moment. He gave Angel another kiss before going to the
comm.
“What?”
“Hello to you, too, Hercules.”
The man snorted. “Roland. What can I do for you?”
“You’ll need to bring another contract with you to Jax’s room.”
“What? You and … our guest?”
“Yes.”
Hercules laughed. “Good for you. Terms?”
Roland turned and found Angel’s eyes. “Permanent?”
“Permanent. So that they can’t take me away from you.”
“No one ever will.” He held Roland’s eyes a moment before turning back to the comm.
“Permanent, Hercules. Can you bring it when you bring Jax’s?” He’d ask Jax if they could make
it a double ceremony and if not, he and Angel could do theirs after.
“Of course. I’ll see you all in an hour or so.”
“Thank you, Hercules.”
He turned off the comm and went back to the bed, sitting next to Angel. “You’re sure,
Angel-love?”
“I’m yours, Roland. Please, let me be yours.”
“Yes, Angel-love. You are mine.” He brought their mouths together, taking charge of the
kiss.
The slender arms wound around his neck, legs around his waist, as that pretty mouth
opened to him.
He slid his hands around Angel’s back, grabbing the pretty ass and tugging Angel in
closer. He deepened their kisses, tongue sweeping through Angel’s mouth. Angel let him in, let
him have everything.
He tweaked Angel’s nipples, one and then the other, fingers dancing down after that.
“Roland.” Angel pulled back, stared at him. “You’re serious, yes? This is ours?
Forever?”
“Forever.” He was sure there would be times when Angel would rail against having
signed, but knew the dear man needed this, needed him. “You’ll never be rid of me now.”
“Good.” Angel looked at him, into his eyes. “I need you.”
“The feeling is mutual, Angel-love.”
Angel nodded, eyes closing as his lover curled into him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Angel. Not anywhere.” He stroked Angel’s belly, his hips.
Angel’s cock hardened, just a bit, almost as if to say hello.
“Mm … we could seal the deal with our bodies.” He slid his fingers along Angel’s cock,
touching, exploring.
“Mm-hmm.” Angel’s hands dragged him closer.
He smiled at Angel, closing their mouths together for a long, lingering kiss. Soft hums
and gentle singing pushed into his lips. He loved the sound of Angel singing for him. He slipped
out of his clothes without ceremony. He reached around and grabbed Angel’s ass, squeezing and
kneading the sweet flesh.
“Love.” Angel laughed for him, the sound going on and on, vibrating against his lips.
He teased the hot little hole, dragging his fingers over the wrinkled skin. Angel spread,
letting him in easily.
He brought his hand back, sucking on one of his fingers as he watched Angel’s face. “I’m
going to fill you.”
“Please. Anything.” Angel leaned back, spread for him.
“No, everything.” He smiled, pushing his wet finger into Angel’s tight body.
Bearing down, Angel took him in, the tight ring of muscles gripping his finger.
“You were made for this, for me.”
“Yes.” The nod was immediate.
Easy.
Honest.
He slicked up his fingers with the lube and pushed two inside this time, watching Angel’s
face the whole while. Angel looked... like he was home. He wanted nothing more than to keep
that look there. Pushing another finger in, he felt that tight hole stretch to accommodate it.
Angel’s lips parted, a soft moan sounding. He twisted his fingers as he pushed them in,
searching for that little bump. He nudged it with his fingertips.
“Roland.” Look at that face.
“Right here with you, Angel-love. Right here.”
“Good. Need you.” Angel was beginning to pant, sweat sheening the lean face.
“Yes. Me now. My cock.” He pulled his fingers away, rolling Angel onto his back and
moving between the spread legs.
“Yes. Hard. Hard and deep so that I feel you.”
“I can do that, Angel-love. I want to do that.”
Holding Angel’s gaze, he began to push in, spreading Angel with his cock. Angel’s body
fought him for a moment, clenching around him before letting him in. He kept pushing until his
hips were pushed up tight against Angel’s ass, his cock buried as deep as it could go.
“I have you.”
“Yes. You have me. Don’t let me drive you away.”
Roland laughed. “Angel-love, if you get annoying I’ll just spank your ass until you beg
for mercy.”
“Promises, promises.” The airy, dismissive wave was a leftover from years of needing
protection.
He nodded. “It is a promise, Angel-love.”
Those fluttering hands stopped, the look suddenly vulnerable.
“I am not going anywhere, Angel. I have told you that, you have my word. And in about
an hour, you will also have a legally binding contract to that effect. You are my focus, now and
always.” It wasn’t easy, staying still and saying the words, but it was what Angel needed and so
it was what he gave.
“A contract.” Angel arched, driving himself down on Roland’s cock.
“In time my word will be enough.” He began to move as well, adding his strength to
drive his prick in hard.
“I. Yes. Please.” Millions wanted this man and no one would ever have him again. No
one but him.
He moved faster, hips circling until he was hitting Angel’s gland with every push in. Soft
sounds filled the air, Angel moaning and moving for him. He wrapped his fingers around
Angel’s cock, hips pushing, pumping into Angel’s body.
“Please.” Angel arched, toes curling.
He nodded, working Angel’s prick and gland together.
“Please. So good. My own …” A deep blush climbed up Angel’s chest.
“Yes. Yours, Angel-love.” He held Angel’s gaze, their focus on each other alone.
“Love.” Angel’s hand cupped his jaw, thumb rubbing his chin.
“For always,” he murmured.
“Yes. Always …” Angel’s eyes closed, body squeezing.
His hips jerked, his balls drawing up as he began to climax. “Together! Come!”
Seed splashed over his belly, Angel’s cry ringing out.
“Yes!” He shot as well, filling Angel as his hips made short, punching movements.
“Yours. Yours. Yours.” The word kept repeating, over and over.
Chapter Twenty-One: Contracts Are Signed
Mal stood in the lift, staring. Two contracts – boom, boom. The entire fucking world was
going exclusive.
It was insane.
Kes loved it.
Herc didn’t seem to mind either, but hell, he had to keep hiring new people.
Mal got off at the penthouse floor, the doors of the other lift opening as he stepped out,
Herc giving him a smile. “Well, it looks like your timing is still perfect.” Herc’s gaze slid down
his body and back up again.
“I can only hope so, Boss. You ready to greet the happy couples?” Fuck me through the
floor? Make me scream? Pick one.
Or two.
“I am. Are you?” Those eyes looked right into him.
“I’m always ready, Boss.” Fuck, he wanted to just hit his knees and beg. Right now.
Herc’s nostril’s flared. “When this is over you’ll report to me upstairs.”
“Will I?” He didn’t know why he was pushing, but he was.
Hercules suddenly grabbed his braid, yanking his head back. “Yes, Malachi, you will.”
His cock leapt, his heart beating furiously, hammering in his ribcage. “Yes. Yes, sir.
Thank you.”
Please.
Hercules continued to hold his head back, violet eyes glowing. Then Herc leaned in
closer, licking from the base of his neck to his chin. “Good.”
His whole fucking world was on fire, the flames following the path of Hercules’ tongue.
Herc’s other hand groped his crotch, tugging his balls and squeezing his cock.
Then the man stepped back. “Come on, Malachi, we have a couple of contracts to
witness.”
“Yes, sir. It’s a joyous occasion.”
“It is indeed. I hear that after is going to be even more joyous, if somewhat more pain-
filled.” Herc knocked on the door.
“Promises, promises,” he muttered under his breath.
He got a sharp look from Hercules before the door opened. Those eyes did indeed make
him promises.
Jax stood there, smiling. “Roland gave me the good news. Please, come in.”
Hercules took Jax’s hand, shaking it. “We’re so happy for all of you.”
“Come in. Meet Angel, finally. He looks so healthy, so whole.”
“Quite a miracle,” murmured Hercules. “Healthy and whole is not how he came to us.”
“No.” Jax took Hercules’ hand, squeezed the Boss’ fingers. “I will owe you forever, for
this haven.”
Right. Like the boss wasn’t making Jax pay. Through the nose.
Hercules accepted the praise though, and they followed Jax into the sitting room where
three other men waited.
Minuet and Roland Mal knew, of course.
The other man he recognized – anyone would recognize the performer with the ethereal,
yet somewhat still furious, voice. Angel was much better looking in person.
The look on Minuet’s face was blissful and serene, and he was looking at Jax like the
man put the stars in the sky. It was a good look on the man. He’d chosen well there.
“I have both contracts here, ready to sign.”
Roland’s arm went around Angel’s waist. “You ready, Angel-love? Ready to officially
become mine?”
“Yes. Yes.” There was a fascinating interplay between Angel and Jax for a moment,
looking as if both men expected loss or pain and were both surprised when there wasn’t any.
“Please, Roland. Yours.”
“Then Angel and I are ready. Jax and Minuet have generously agreed to share the
moment with us, so we will all four of us sign together.”
Jax nodded. “I couldn’t be more pleased. My Minuet is offering me himself.”
“I am yours already, Master.” Minuet smiled, teeth bright in the dark face. “But the ritual
makes my heart happy.”
“Yes.” Jax held Minuet’s hand. “What do we do, Herc?”
Herc chuckled. “You want the hearts and flowers version or the short version?”
“I don’t need hearts and flowers. I need Roland.” Angel sounded sure.
“Well, then. We sign. Malachi.” Hercules pointed to the coffee table.
“Got it, Boss.” He placed the two commpads before the couples. “This contracts both of
you. Jax, Roland – you agree to care for your subs, assure their safety, and address their needs.”
Roland nodded. “Absolutely.”
“With all I am.” Jax agreed.
Hercules beamed at them both. “And Minuet and Angel, you understand these are
lifetime contracts that you are signing?”
Minuet nodded vigorously. “I do.”
“Yes. Yes. This means no one can make me leave Roland.” Angel seemed impatient to
just get it done.
Hercules nodded. “This is quite legally binding.”
Angel looked pleased, satisfied. “I’ll sign whatever I need to.”
“I think we all will,” murmured Roland, grinning at Angel.
Angel nodded, smiled. “Can I go first?’
Roland beamed.
Hercules nodded and he pushed the comm over toward Angel. Two thumbprints and it
was over, Angel nearly vibrating, buzzing against the divan. Roland went next, placing his
thumbprints next to Angel’s. Mal and Hercules added their thumbprints as witnesses.
Then Roland looked at Angel, hand sliding on one thigh. “It’s done.”
“Honestly?” Angel shifting into Roland’s lap. “Yours?”
“That’s right, Angel-love. All legal and locked in.”
“Yours.” Angel rested one cheek against Roland’s shoulder and looked at Jax. “You next.
I want our family, our world settled.”
Jax chuckled. “Minuet. Be mine.”
“You know I am, Mr. Jax.” Minuet never hesitated for a moment, leaning over to put his
thumbprints in place.
Jax followed behind, then turned to give Minuet a deep, lingering kiss. Angel stared,
shook his head, rolling his eyes.
Roland snapped Angel’s ass, just the once. “I see you, Angel-love. I see everything you
do.”
Angel’s cheeks went dark red, perfectly formed lips forming an ‘o’. Mal nodded -- he’d
trained Roland well.
Herc chuckled and gathered up the comms, and they added their thumb prints to the
second document. Herc saved the documents. Copies were sent to the client files and to the
registry. “There. All done and official. Malachi and I shall leave you to your celebrations.”
“Enjoy.”
Hands were shaken all around, the men all obviously eager to get rid of them, to be left to
their own, personal commitment ceremonies.
Hercules pulled the door closed behind them. “I know you worked with both Minuet and
Roland. They’re a credit to you.”
“Thank you, Boss. They looked good.” He nodded, pleased.
“They did indeed.” Hercules pressed the button to bring the lift up. “Not as good as
you’re going to look in about thirty seconds, though.”
“Thirty seconds, hmm?” His cock went from warm and happy to screaming hot.
The lift doors slid open, Hercules’ eyes lighting him on fire. “That’s right.”
“Thank you, sir.” He followed Hercules in and watched the doors close so they could go
up.
He was happy for Roland and Minuet, and their respective lovers, but it was the match
made right here that he considered the Velvet Glove’s finest.
THE END
Fits Like A Glove
Prologue
My club is my life.
I didn’t build the building it is situated in, but I did build the club itself, brick by brick
from the ground up.
My rules.
My people.
My vision.
I started as I meant to continue. Strict rules and nothing but the best.
Today it is the most successful club of its kind in the Seven Colonies.
Scratch that, it is the most successful club in the Seven Colonies, full stop.
Even at the beginning I hired the best to manage the place for me. It made things tight for
awhile, but I knew I had to be perceived as successful to be successful.
And it worked.
Fifteen years later and I am the elusive and aloof Hercules. Everyone knows my name,
my face, but no one knows me.
And that’s the way I like it.
My word is my bond. My name is synonymous with quality and uncompromising
excellence.
I am the Velvet Glove.
Of course that isn’t true, but only my top managers and I know the truth. One man could
never run everything, not even a controlling bastard like myself.
Speaking of controlling, my trainer? The best in the business.
The subs are terrified of him. Hell, most of the tops are as well.
Malachi Denteri. Long, tall, thin. Long blond hair and a body to be envied.
The man walks with the grace of a lion and the confidence of one as well. And that’s why
he’s so good. He believes he is. No. He knows he is.
Some evenings, after I’ve made my rounds and everything is running smoothly I like to
head down to the training salle and watch him work.
Always dressed in leather. Always perfectly groomed. Whip slapping against flesh in
perfect time, one snap after another, eyes cold and empty, focused.
Perfection.
Absolute perfection wrapped up in warm skin and leather.
The little sub is driven further and further, the lash falling continuously, Malachi forcing
the blond past his limits.
The sub’s mouth opens to safeword just as Malachi holds the next stroke.
Perfection.
Malachi walks around, nodding to the bound boy, hand stroking the sweat-soaked hair.
“Excellent, Phoenix. Excellent. Your master will be pleased.”
Yes, Rifkin will be very pleased with Phoenix’s progress. And I am very pleased with my
trainer. More pleased than just a job well done warrants. I can’t help but wonder what it would
take to break that calm façade, to warm up Malachi’s icy eyes.
Malachi notices me, comes over once Phoenix is being attended to by one of the little
workerbees. “Good evening, Boss. Is everything okay?”
I smile, let my pleasure in him show, just a little. “As far as I know. Is everything okay,
Malachi?” The subs call him Sir. His friends call him Mal. I have always called him Malachi.
“Of course. This is my salle. Everything is always in control. That’s what you pay me
for.”
He’s right, of course, I pay him for his control. Which makes my desire to break that
control all the more delicious.
Of course I’m not looking to break it here, in the salle, but in private, where it is safe for
both of us.
“Sir, Phoenix was your last appointment for the night. Shall I clean your whips?” The
quiet, demure mountain of a man is Malachi’s right hand, constantly aware, watching, waiting.
Aching for Malachi’s attention.
The weapons are handed over, Elijah offered a nod and a half smile.
“If you’re done for the day perhaps you will join me upstairs. Have a drink, discuss the
day, the club.” One thing could lead to another … it is a delicate thing, topping a top. Most are
not interested in such things and see it as a weakness instead of the incredible strength it is.
Malachi gives me a nod, short and sure. “I will. Thank you. Let me clean up and I will
meet you?”
“Certainly. Don’t make me wait too long.”
Those icy eyes flash to mine, quick and bright. “No. I will be quick.”
“Excellent.” I hold his eyes a moment longer and then walk away, eager to relieve my
need before we meet again.
* * * * *
My fucking arms ache and so do my balls and I’m tempted to cancel my drink with the
bossman because, hell, maybe I need to go out. Prowl. Get a nice, long casual fuck.
Some tight hole wrapped around my cock, squeezing and pulling the pleasure right out of
me. No names. No pressure. No bullshit. Cock and ass and coming.
I put palm to skin, leaning back against the black tile, let the fucking hot water beat down
on me, leaving fucking stinging little kisses on my nipples, my belly, my cock.
Yeah.
Fuck.
You’d think in a club like the Glove I wouldn’t feel the need to do this, but a guy’s got
his reputation to protect, doesn’t he? Cool. Aloof. Strong.
I reach up, find a nice-sized plug and slick it, let it slide into my ass nice and slow,
moaning as I take it all. Fucking hungry for it. Hungry for this and the slide of nails on my cock
and, if I had the time and a sound I’d slide one of those long metal rods into the tip of my cock,
ride the sting and the burn, play with it until I couldn’t fucking bear it and …
Fuck. The fantasy sends me over the edge nice and quick, cock shooting white over
black, the water washing it away.
Oh. Yeah. I can so better deal with talking shop with the boss now that my personal
issues have been … addressed.
I’m dressed and upstairs and buzzing the door to Hercules’ private suite before I consider
the fact that maybe? Leaving the plug in wasn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made.
“Enter.”
His voice is calm and emotionless, even and hard.
I love the modern simplicity of the Boss’ rooms – cold and clean, stern. Sort of like the
boss himself, except with less color. Rumor is the Boss did himself all in purples to match the
club; seems more likely to be the other way.
Herc doesn’t change shit for anybody.
He’s sitting in a wide, cushy chair, one leg crossed over the other, looking cool and
elegant, unruffable. He’s got a drink in one hand and he nods to the coffee table where there’s a
carafe full of the same pale liquid and another glass. “Help yourself, Malachi.”
He’s never ever called me anything but Malachi. Even the subs shorten my name to Mal,
but not the Boss.
“Thank you, Boss.” I pour myself a drink before sitting, the plug inside my ass shifting,
keeping me awake and aware.
The Boss waits for me to have a sip before he speaks. “So bring me up to date. Any
problems?”
“Nothing we aren’t coping with. One of the workerbees fell last week, broke a leg. One
top – a member, not an employee – went too far, hurt one of Frank’s boys. He was escorted out.
Frank and … Henri, I believe the boy’s name was … are going to be fine.”
“You take such good care of everything. Some days I wonder if I’m really necessary
anymore.”
“Of course you are. You sign the paychecks. You’re the boss.”
Hercules chuckles. “Indeed, I do – I am. I guess that makes me top dog, even of the top
dogs.”
“Yes, sir. The big, bad holder of the leash.”
The Boss leans in suddenly, eyes dark, intent on mine. “Would you like that, Malachi?
Me holding your leash?”
Oh, sweet fuck.
My cock jerks, going from zero to sixty just like that, hard and aching, balls drawing up
as my ass clenches around the plug.
“That would assume I’d wear a collar.”
He smiles, his eyes hot. He knows.
“I think for the right man you’d wear one. I think you want it very badly. That’s why
you’re so good at what you do, so controlled.”
“What makes you think that?” My eyes are caught on his, every fucking nerve in my skin
lighting up. Damn it. I need this job. I like my job.
“The fact that you walked in here like your ass was full.”
The fucking bottom falls out from under me, cheeks flaring dark. How the fuck could he
have known?
He leans back in his chair, looking smug, self-confident. Sexy as fuck.
I meet his eyes straight on, wrapping myself in my control. I haven’t been working this
field without learning the tricks of the trade. “I’ve never met a man who is strong enough to
challenge me. I stopped looking.”
“Sure you did. You just didn’t know it.” He’s so sure, so confident that I can’t believe
he’s even considered that he might be wrong.
“You sure you don’t want to look down in the training salle? There are some beautiful
boys.”
“Yes, beautiful boys. I’m not looking for a boy.” Hercules is leaning forward again and
he’s not that close but he fills my vision. “You aren’t the only one looking for a challenge,
Malachi.”
“What are you looking for?” I swallow hard, breath coming in concert with his.
“I’m looking for a man. I’m looking for someone with perfect control. I’m looking for
someone to drive over the edge of that control, deep into himself. I’m looking for you, Malachi.”
I nod, heart pounding in my chest, time coming to a still, the world bright and crystalline.
“Yes, Sir.”
* * * * *
Malachi’s words fade away as we sit, caught in the moment, in each other’s need.
Then I stand, my feet planted slightly apart, hands on my hips. “Service me.”
This is the test. He will cede his control to me for his own pleasure – will he also cede it
for mine alone?
Unless I have read him wrong, he will.
There is no hesitation, no waffling, just a veneer of calm control as my cock is freed,
those lips accepting the tip, tongue protecting my flesh from his teeth.
I purr, giving him something for his easy acceptance of my cock. It’s been awhile and it
feels good. It feels even better knowing this man doesn’t suck, doesn’t do this for anyone.
Is doing it for me. Here. On his knees.
I push deeper, wanting to make him sweat, make him unbalanced and worried. My hand
drops to his head, holding him so he can’t move his head back. I don’t fuck his mouth hard, but I
fuck it deep, slowly pushing my cock in all the way and just as slowly pulling it back to where
only the tip is held.
Those eyes never falter, Malachi simply takes me, opens for me. Accepts me.
My hips move, finding a rhythm that I enjoy, that won’t bring me to the edge too quickly.
I am enjoying having him on his knees before me. The sight is quite intoxicating.
All ice outside – white hair, blue eyes, smooth skin, but fire inside with that sucking
mouth, the heart beating hard. That hot hole needing to be plugged, to be filled.
And no one else had seen it but me. No one else would. I would protect his secret as well
as my own.
Our eyes meet and I let myself go, emptying into his waiting mouth.
He doesn’t miss a drop, pulling and swallowing around me without a sound.
My grip in his hair eases and I slide my hand down to cup his jaw, cock slipping from his
mouth. “Well done, Malachi. Now we’ll retire to the playroom and see if you do as well under
the whip as you do wielding it.”
That jaw tightens under my hand and I might have missed it, had I not held him so
closely. “Yes, Sir.”
I let one of my eyebrows go up, the look supercilious and usually enough to send
underlings scurrying. I don’t say a word, I just wait.
He holds on for a long time, longer than most, maybe longer than any, then that angled
jaw leans into my hand, eyes dropping.
“Yes.”
So beautiful. He will be even more so spread out for me, body moving beneath my whip.
“Tell me your safeword.”
It is the only thing I will ask of him; everything else will be orders.
“Staple. I have never used it.”
I smile. “We’ll see what we can do about that.”
What was the point of living this lifestyle if you were never pushed?
“Yes, Sir.” The way his throat works arouses me, reminds me that the flavor of my seed
is still on his tongue, in his mouth.
“Get up,” I order. “Leave your clothes here and come with me.”
I take my own clothing off, leaving it neatly folded on the chair behind me.
My eyes never leave him, watching my icy trainer melt for me.
Shirt, shoes, pants – I’ve never seen him naked, never seen that long, thin prick, the
heavy balls before. “Should I …” He looks down, belly pinking. “Should I leave the plug in,
Sir?”
“No, take it out.” I want to watch him take it out. I want him to need my cock filling him
while I beat him.
He reaches behind, flexible, stretching for me, sliding the wide, weighted plug free with a
groan. His cock throbs, a clear drop forming at the tip, sliding down the shaft.
I lick my lips, but keep my control and lead him to the playroom at the center of my suite.
Malachi is proud of his body, moving with a quiet grace that being bare, being naked
cannot strip away.
He is intoxicating, beautiful, mine.
The possession in that thought startles me and would likely surprise him, but it’s real,
sharp, as sharp as the sound of my whip on his spine will be.
My playroom is simple, well-equipped though little used. It has been far too long since I
practiced what I built this club on. That is about to change.
Malachi looked around, muscles rippling unconsciously. “Where would you like me?”
Pushy, pushy.
“There are cuffs in the cupboard by the door. They attach to the chains suspended from
the ceiling.” I can push, too.
Those vulnerable balls draw up, but he moves, heading for the cabinet without argument.
I watch, licking my lips, flexing my arms as I prepare myself to give Malachi the
whipping of his life. Of my life.
The cuffs are offered to me, Malachi’s eyes distant, cool. Masked.
“Put them on yourself. I’ll hook you up.”
Malachi works silently, fingers clever, sure. It makes me wonder if he binds himself at
night, needing this and not asking for it.
Once the cuffs are on him, I bring his hands up over his head and hook the cuffs onto the
chain, adjusting the length so he’s up on his toes, body stretched out for me.
Beautiful. Strong. Vulnerable. It’s a heady mixture and I want all of it. All of him.
I go to the cupboard where the whips are kept, let him watch as I pick up various items.
In the end I choose a thin single-tailed whip.
His eyes flash for a second, a heartbeat and then there’s that control again, fierce,
uncompromising.
Lovely. Absolutely stunning.
I will break him tonight, to prove he needs me, but there is a part of me that would like to
watch him not break. The next time he comes to me, I will allow him his control. But not this
time. He needs to know that I can break him. That I can push him over that edge and be there to
catch him.
The tension in the room is building, making the air sharp, almost bitter. I can almost hear
Malachi’s mantra, a constant whisper.
I walk around him, behind him and I let the whip fly.
His skin goes white, then red, the mark sure, undeniable.
I lay another one down next to it. I’m going to take my time. The whip will split his skin,
but in a skilled hand it will take a long time. I have a skilled hand.
It takes almost ten strokes before the first swallowed sound hits my ears, Malachi’s hands
wrapping around the chains.
So strong. Stronger even than I had imagined. It thrills me, excites me like nothing else
has in a very long time.
My next stroke bisects all ten marks on his back.
Malachi’s eyes close, retreating into himself, away from me, from the pain.
I let the next hit fall across his buttocks. He will not hide from me.
His muscles tighten, arms actually lifting his toes off the floor for a second.
Beautiful.
Absolutely stunning.
He takes my breath away for a moment, so the next stroke is a little longer in coming.
It is a battle between us, a fight to see who will tire first, if my strength is equal to his
control.
Still I take my time and it is only on the 27th stroke, yes I am counting and yes, he has
made it this far, that his skin splits.
Head fallen forward, he’s panting for me, breath hitching, bright blood beading up,
trailing along that bruised skin.
I stop for a moment, move in close and drag my tongue up along the wound. Collecting
his life-blood into me. He’s mine now. Delivered to me by his need and his strength and the dark
red drops that slide on my tongue.
A soft sob sounds, the intimacy drawing a fine crack in that control.
I kiss the small of his back and move away, letting the whip fly again, letting it kiss the
spot where my lips were seconds ago.
Dam broken now, the low sounds come more frequently, torn from Malachi’s throat.
My own breath is coming often now, gasping from me as my body tires from the effort of
wielding the whip, of making the stripes hit where I want them to.
Malachi’s skin breaks in three more places and I go in and lick each one.
Malachi jerks away from my tongue, hands fighting the bonds.
I lick the drops from his skin and then walk around to his front. Only a whip or two more
to his back would break him, I am sure of it, but I will not tear apart any more skin. Besides, his
nipples cry out for the kiss of my whip.
And I can see his face this way, see into those cold eyes.
His cheeks bear the trace of tears, cock still mostly hard, chest hitching. His eyes are
closed to me, though.
I shorten the whip, wrapping it around my hand to give me more control and flick the tip
against his left nipple.
His head falls back, nipple going tight immediately, a sharp cry sounding.
I hit the other one and then his navel.
“Open your eyes.”
“I …” Malachi gasps, shaking his head unconsciously.
“Open your eyes.” My voice is hard and inexorable like the whip, which I let fly, hitting
his left nipple again, splitting the skin.
“Please! Hercules!” The cry is desperate, sharp, ice blue eyes flying open.
Holding his eyes I moved forward and slowly, oh so very slowly, bend to lap at the drops
of blood that well up from his nipple.
The look in those eyes is pure need, breathtaking and perfect in that moment.
I wrap my lips around his split nipple, tugging as I draw up more beads of blood, feeding
from him, his lifeblood again sealing what is between us.
A single tear slides down the hollowed cheek, the salt of it splashing down, mingling
with the blood.
It makes me purr, my lips vibrating around his abused nipple.
His eyes fall closed again, lips parting on a sigh.
“Don’t come,” I warn him, hand sliding down his belly over the firm abs. My fingers
graze the tip of his cock, picking up moisture and then I grab his balls, tugging, twisting, just
enough to hurt.
He stretches, body trying to pull away.
“There’s nowhere to go.” I tug on them again and then step back, readying the whip.
Tugging on the chains, pale skin blood streaked and bruised, I can see him on the edge,
head shaking as he fights.
I raise the whip and hit him with it again, a short stroke across his belly and then another
one following quickly, crossing it.
He twists, trying to avoid the cuts, trying to escape.
I will not let him, though. There is only one escape from my whip and that is his
submission.
I whip him again, catching the right nipple this time, splitting it to match its mate.
“Staple. Please. No more.” He slumps in the bonds, face hidden in his arm, shame and
defeat in the lines of his body.
I let the whip drop and go to him, turning his face to mine. “Look at me.”
He wants to pull away, I can tell, but he submits, agonized eyes meeting my own.
“You are beautiful. Amazing. No one I know would have lasted as long as you did.” I
bring our mouths together, kissing his lips, the taste of salt on them strong. “I am very proud of
you, Malachi.”
He moans, opening for me, eyes wide, offering.
I kiss him until I am breathless and it is only then that I realize how exhausted I am. My
limbs are trembling – he pushed me as far as I pushed him and I can only guess how much more
the exhaustion must be riding him.
I detach his arms from the chains, catching him as he slumps against me.
He fights to steady himself, to find his feet and stand, force overworked muscles to obey.
“I have you,” I tell him. And I do, I will not let him falter.
I lead him to the corner of the room and press a button, settling Malachi down on the bed
that slides out from the wall.
I would share my bed with him, but neither of us has the strength to make there, so this
will do for now.
Malachi sways, the scent of blood and sweat and tears strong.
I quickly find the medkit and spray his front and back with antiseptic so that his wounds
don’t get infected.
Then I help him lie down on his side and lie with him, facing him. I want to pull him into
my arms, but I haven’t given him anything to dull the pain and I am leery of causing too much
more.
His breath slows, eyes quiet and still, watching me, periodic tears escaping, sliding free.
“How do you feel?” I ask him, fingers sliding over his belly, stroking where his skin is
unmarked
“Empty.” His voice is hoarse, quiet.
“Then I shall fill you.”
I move behind him, pushing his leg over so that I can slip into him. He is still stretched
and slick from the plug and my cock slides in easily.
“Oh …” The sound is low, honest, body taking me without hesitation.
For all the stretching, he is tight around me and I groan as his body grips my cock,
squeezes me.
“Hercules …” Malachi arches, so slowly, lips open and gasping.
“Yes, Malachi. Feel me. Let me give you what you need.”
“Yes …” So hot, so open and needy. “Yes, please.”
I reach around and find Malachi’s cock, still hard, still full of need. I stroke him in time
with my thrusts, losing myself in the rhythm of our bodies.
Our bodies, our breath, us – it’s easy and right and he’s mine, made for this, for my will,
my need, my cock.
Higher and higher we go, pushing and pulling, making love. When we tumble over the
edge, it is together, as if my seed inside him pushes his own from his cock.
Malachi takes a deep breath, kissing and licking his own come from our joined fingers.
“Mmm … so sexy, Malachi. You are beautiful, but your need and your submission make
you glow for me.”
A soft kiss brushes my wrist. “For you.”
“Yes.”
For me and me alone. No other will touch him. No other even knows of his need.
I do.
Chapter One
Herc was irritated.
He owned the best men’s BDSM club in the history of such clubs and he prided himself
on the place. In fact, he prided himself on the fact that he was almost superfluous; his staff was
that good. And yet, in the past few hours, he’d been pestered by one guest after another: one
needing a different room, another wanting his presence at dinner, still another complaining about
the sub he’d been assigned. He wanted to know why the VIPs always turned up at the same time
and why they always needed his special touch.
He was in his office, pacing from one end to the other. All right, he was more than
irritated; he was entirely out of sorts. He couldn’t decide whether to call his managers to him or
go and give them an earful in person. He decided he didn’t want to wait.
He headed for the training salles, glaring at anyone who dared get in his way. Subs and
Doms alike scattered before him; no one wanted to be on the receiving end of his wrath. One
Dom, though, one Dom didn’t even flinch, simply nodded at him as he burst in. “Boss.”
“What in the nine systems is going on here today?” he demanded with another glare, even
as he admired the long, lean lines, the white hair and icy eyes. “Can no one do their jobs?”
“One would assume that they can, given that people are eating and the lamps are on and
the monitors show tops fucking the workerbees.” Malachi arched one white eyebrow. “Has there
been a problem?”
“A problem? No, there has not been a problem. There have been a dozen problems. Little
nit-picky, stupid problems that for some reason I am the only one who can fix! I don’t know why
I bothered to hire managers!” Damn it, he wanted to bend Malachi over that desk and fuck him
through it.
“For the ten thousand problems you didn’t have to handle?”
“Insolent man.” He met Malachi’s eyes, the man not backing down from him. It was the
sexiest thing he’d seen all day. “I think you should meet me in my quarters in ten minutes and
we’ll go over where things went wrong.”
“Of course, Boss.” Those eyes challenged him the entire way, just steady, strong.
Fuck, he was hard. “I think this will be a lengthy debriefing. Make sure your schedule is
clear.”
“Yes, Boss.” He could smell Malachi, feel the man’s heat, see the control.
“Make it five minutes.” He turned on his heel, but stopped at the door. “And Malachi …
don’t be late.”
“I never have been.”
He nodded. It was true. “This would not be the time to break your streak.”
He headed for the lift and made it to his quarters in the penthouse without snarling at
anyone he met on the way, but it was a close thing. Only the memory of those icy, cool eyes
staring him down kept him focused solely on getting to his playroom. He occupied his time by
going through his cupboards, making sure the heat was on, the room and everything in it just
perfect.
Malachi opened his door with only seconds to spare, the knife-blade cheekbones sharp in
the lean face.
“Strip,” Herc ordered, foregoing any sort of formalities. He just wasn’t in the mood to
pussyfoot around.
Malachi nodded, long fingers baring that perfect skin to his eyes. The motions were
smooth, unhurried, controlled. His Malachi was such a delight.
Herc licked his lips and opened his pants, his prick springing free. “Suck me.”
“Yes, Hercules.” The soft voice wrapped around him, perfectly modulated, wonderfully
toned.
He watched the lovely body approaching, his prick jerking at the sight. He loved that he
was still fully dressed while Malachi was naked. He loved that Malachi would strip and kneel for
him and him alone. In a graceful motion, Malachi knelt before him, lips open and taking him in
deep. The suction was sudden and sure and enough to make his thighs tight.
Groaning, he slid his hands through Malachi’s hair. The pleasure moved over his spine,
spread throughout his body and chased the aggravation and irritation away. As quickly as that,
his Malachi brought him to center, eased him.
“That’s it, Malachi. Bring me off.”
And after, they would play.
Those tight lips dropped down, slid over his shaft and sealed around the base, the suction
growing stronger. He slid his hands through Malachi’s hair, opening and closing his fingers. He
didn’t need to guide – Malachi knew exactly what he wanted, what he needed. Malachi knew and
Malachi gave, trusting him and taking him into that tight throat, to giving him Malachi’s breath.
“Oh, yes. So close, Malachi. So very close.”
Long fingers cupped his sacs, rolling the balls within even as Malachi swallowed. If he
had not been who he was, he would have screamed. As it was, his balls emptied in long pulses,
his body shuddering with the magnificent pleasure.
Malachi took him down, didn’t miss a drop. Then his shaft was licked clean, the caresses
soft, careful.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his calm restored. In fact he felt marvelous. “Tuck me back
together and then choose something from the cabinet.” He stroked Malachi’s cheek. He would
ease any tensions from his beautiful lover.
Malachi’s hands tucked him away, fingers sliding on his skin. Then his naked and hard
lover stood, needy and proud. He admired every inch. Malachi’s body was perfection – he
worked hard and it showed. Hercules ached to reach out and touch but he made himself wait. He
made them both wait. Later.
Malachi moved to the cabinet, sorting through the whips and floggers and paddles. A
leather flogger was chosen – heavy and strong and it would thud upon Malachi’s flesh. Hercules
took in a deep breath, new warmth filing him. Malachi was so good to him.
“Would you like to be stretched and chained for it, or would you like to lean over the
table?”
“Whichever would please you most.” There was no simpering, simply honesty. “Your
touch is all I need.”
“The table, then.”
Malachi didn’t need to be restrained in order to obey, and it would mean less work to
move them into his bedroom once they were done. It had been too long a day to fool around with
chains and massages after.
“Yes, Hercules.” Malachi leaned over the table, thighs spread just slightly, exposing
himself.
“Mmm … yes. Just like that.”
It was the only warning he gave before bringing the flogger down across Malachi’s back,
right along his spine. Malachi didn’t move, didn’t jerk, but the mark went a deep rose, and
Malachi’s muscles went tight. He licked his lips and took another deep breath. It would be …
uncontrolled of him to moan before Malachi.
He let the flogger fly again, this time striking across the top of Malachi’s buttocks.
Malachi’s ass went tight, clenching for him, the fine skin pink. His next hit was just below the
first on that beautiful ass, and the next at the top of Malachi’s thighs. He could feel the
reverberations travel from the flogger up his arm, an echo to the sound of the leather hitting
Malachi’s skin. Malachi began to shift, dancing under the blows, under his blows.
“Let me hear you,” he commanded, hitting one shoulder and then the other.
“Hercules …” His name was nearly growled, Malachi preferring the control of silence,
the comfort there.
“I mean it, Malachi. I want to hear the effects of each blow. You will give me your
sounds.” He would have Malachi’s control. He reveled in taking it.
He saw Malachi shudder, the sweet skin flushing. “Yes, Hercules.”
He chuckled softly. “I expect to hear more than just my name.” He hit the bottom of
Malachi’s ass, low enough Malachi’s balls would feel the rush of air from the flogger hitting.
He received a soft hiss, the table groaning as Malachi’s muscles tensed.
“That’s it.” He hit the same spot again and then let the leather thump against the small of
Malachi’s back where a sweet bundle of nerves lay.
Malachi grunted, hips canting, entire body shuddering. He hummed, the vibrations of the
flogger through his arm so pleasing, the dark color on Malachi’s skin equally so. He hit again
across Malachi’s shoulders.
“Love.” Malachi’s head tossed, eyes wide open and staring at nothing.
“Yes,” he murmured, one hand sliding along Malachi’s back, the heat incredible where
each dark welt lay.
“Oh …” Malachi’s eyes closed, that moan pure joy.
“Every sound you give me shall receive this reward,” he murmured, sliding his hand up
along Malachi’s spine.
He stood back, and brought the flogger down along the tops of Malachi’s thighs again.
Malachi groaned low, the sound raw and rough, muscled thighs gone taut.
“Just like that.” Hercules slid his hand over Malachi’s ass, squeezing the abused flesh just
a little.
“Thank you.” Malachi spread for him, stretched.
So lovely. The pale body made him need so much. His prick was already hard again and
straining at his tight pants. He patted Malachi’s ass and then stood back and hit it twice with the
flogger, one for each cheek. Those blows earned him gasps, the tiny hole winking at him. He
rewarded the noises with another touch, his hand sliding around Malachi’s chest so he could
touch each nipple. Those tiny bits of flesh went tight and Malachi stilled. His sensitive one.
“Mmm … what would the little workerbees think if they saw you with a clamp here,
hmm?”
“They won’t.” That was sure, strong. Firm.
“No, they won’t, will they? That, my dear Malachi, is mine and mine alone.” He tweaked
the nipple in his fingers and moved away again. “You can take a few more, hmm?”
“Yes, Hercules.” Malachi relaxed, stretching and settling into his submission.
“Beautiful,” he murmured before he began to flog Malachi in earnest.
He laid the strokes down from Malachi’s shoulders to his knees, never hitting in exactly
the same place once. Soon enough, Malachi’s skin was dark and welted. Malachi was moaning
and shaking, head dropped down between the strong shoulders. He landed one more hit on
Malachi’s ass and then he set the flogger on the table next to Malachi’s hand, wordlessly letting
his lover know he was done.
He put his hand on Malachi’s back, right in the middle and spread his fingers, pressed his
palm against the heated skin. That little moaning sob was perfect. Beautiful. He bent to place a
kiss in the small of Malachi’s back, a thank you, a reward for Malachi’s submission.
“You’ll come to my bed now, Malachi. Do you want the spray for your back?”
“No.” No, he’d not cut that fine skin and the burn made his Malachi beautiful.
“Excellent.” He took Malachi’s hand and helped his lover to stand, to turn. “So beautiful
tonight, Malachi. No one eases me as you do.”
“It is my greatest joy.” Those words would be a joke in anyone else’s lips.
He brought their mouths together, cupping Malachi’s face and holding it as their tongues
met and danced. Malachi leaned into his strength, heated and strong, hard and wanton.
He began to walk backward, moving toward the bedroom. The silk sheets would be cool
against Malachi’s back, and slippery, offering less friction against the abused flesh. Every step,
Malachi’s sounds pressed into his lips. Those eyes stared into his, admiring him, needing him as
no one else could. It was as intoxicating as any of the spirits served at the club, and far more
precious.
He put all his love into his kisses, letting Malachi in, letting his lover see what no one
else did. One trembling hand cupped his jaw, thumb just brushing below his bottom lip. He
moaned into their kiss. No one else dared to touch him; Malachi’s touch was worth waiting for.
The bed finally, finally, hit the backs of his knees, and Hercules let himself drop down
and back, bringing Malachi down on top of him. Malachi’s cock was stiff as stone, the tip wet
and swollen.
“Undress me,” he demanded, needing to be skin on skin, wanting Malachi’s cock leaking
on his belly.
Malachi nodded, face against his throat as Mal went to work, baring him. He arched and
bucked into each touch, Malachi’s fingers warm against each patch of bared skin. Malachi’s
sounds were soft, almost sweet against his throat, a sharp contrast to what most people here
expected.
No, not most.
Any.
He reveled in them as much as the touches, reveled in the knowledge that this was his
alone.
Finally naked, he could feel the heat of Mal’s prick against his hip, the tip leaving wet
kisses on his skin as he gently stroked the burning hot flesh of Malachi’s back. Malachi moaned,
pressing down against him, shuddering.
He pushed up, meeting Malachi’s downward motions. “You’ll come when I tell you and
not before.” Subs everywhere strove for the control his Malachi had.
“Yes, Hercules.” Malachi nodded, near growling against him.
“Keep rubbing though – it feels good.” His own prick slid along Malachi’s belly as his
lover slid against him. His fingers returned to Malachi’s back, tracing each heated welt.
“Yes …” Malachi’s motions slowed, eased, Mal rocking against him.
His eyes began to close, and then flashed open again; he wanted to see, to watch
Malachi’s face in pleasure. Malachi groaned, eyes rolling slightly. Those thin lips were swollen,
parted, hungry for him. He licked at them, hand going behind Malachi’s head to bring their
mouths together in a hard, eager kiss. Malachi groaned, shaking against him, belly tight, balls
taut.
“You need, my Malachi, don’t you.” His fingers moved down along Malachi’s back and
grabbed his ass, fingers digging in.
“Yes. Yes, Hercules.” Malachi arched, ass pressing into his hands.
“I know.” He rolled them, putting Malachi beneath him, his knees spreading Malachi’s
legs. “Are you ready for me?”
“I am always ready for you, Hercules.” That heavy cock dripped on Malachi’s belly.
“My Malachi …” His prick nudged against Malachi’s hole, his eyes holding his lover’s.
“Yours …” Malachi took control, rolling them again and bearing back upon his prick,
taking him in.
He allowed it, biting back his groan as the tight, hot body drew him deeper and deeper.
“Greedy man.”
“Yes. I have need of you.” Those eyes stared into him, offering him everything.
He took it, took Malachi, his hips thrusting, breaching Malachi over and over. Each time
he pushed in his hips bumped against the heated, welt-ridden flesh of Malachi’s ass. Malachi’s
eyes closed; so lean, so lovely above him. Dancing.
He pinched Malachi’s nipples, one and then the other, making the flesh around his prick
squeeze him tight. He saw a flush climb up Malachi’s belly, up the strong chest. He slid a hand
over that belly and chased the flush up to Malachi’s neck, his fingers moving to explore
Malachi’s face. Those soft lips brushed his fingers, tongue tracing his fingertips.
Sensation spread from his fingers up his arms, meeting the pleasure that radiated out from
his cock. Shifting his angle, he searched for Malachi’s gland. It took a few thrusts, but Malachi’s
eyes flew open, a sharp cry ringing out when he found it.
“Yes!” He stayed right there, pushing against Malachi’s gland again and again. Then his
hand found Malachi’s prick, wrapping tightly around it.
“Hercules.” Malachi’s head was thrown back, long throat working, hands opening and
closing again and again.
“Come now – I want to feel you on my cock.” And he wanted to watch the icy, beautiful
face in pleasure.
“Yes. Yes, sir.” Heat poured from the hard prick, splashing and burning over him.
Malachi’s body milked his cock, calling out his own orgasm. With a low groan, and a
whisper of Malachi’s name, he came, filling his lover with his seed. The smile he received was
pure bliss. Happiness that never entered his Malachi’s eyes any other time.
He brought their lips together, the word love whispered and hovering between them.
Malachi nodded, fingers on his cheek.
“You will stay,” Hercules murmured, nuzzling into the touches.
“Yes, love. I will stay.” Malachi smiled for him, nodded. “Thank you.”
“Mmm … my pleasure.”
His eyes closed, his arms pulling Malachi close. This peace could be found nowhere else.
Chapter Two
Hercules sat in the office, looking down on the club through the one-way windows. It
was a busy night. Daniel’s performance the night before had spread like wildfire through word of
mouth and they were temporarily “it”.
The take would go up for a few days before settling back into the usual numbers. The
Velvet Glove didn’t survive on transient business – he’d built his club’s reputation on repeat
customers, making it a place where those who liked to play knew they could come and be safe.
As he watched the guests mingle with his staff, he could feel a pair of eyes on him; he
turned just enough to raise an eyebrow at Malachi before turning back to the window with its
view. Malachi didn’t speak, just watched him with those icy blue eyes.
Hercules waited, watching until Desmond finished flogging a new player, before saying
anything.
“Was there something you wanted, Malachi?”
“Yes, sir.” Malachi’s voice was quiet, sure. “I wish to apologize, sir.”
“Here? Or in my suite?”
“Whichever you prefer, sir.” Malachi was still, quiet, but Hercules could read the worry
and upset and tension in the long lines of the beautifully sculpted body.
“My suite. I’ll meet you there in five minutes.” They wouldn’t be interrupted there.
“Yes, sir.” With those two words, Malachi was gone, disappearing silently from the
office.
He took a last check of the floor, making sure things were running smoothly – though
with his hand-picked managers in place, how could it not be? – and closed up the office.
He took his time going up to his penthouse suite, wondering where Malachi would be
waiting for him. In the main room? In his bedroom? Or in the cave?
He found Malachi naked, shorn head bowed, kneeling on the floor in the cave, stress
almost visible.
The inked flames rose from Malachi’s buttocks, calling to his fingers, but he resisted.
Malachi needed to make his apology and their centre must be found before such touches could
again be enjoyed between them.
He left his own clothes on and sat in the large, overstuffed chair.
“You may proceed.”
“I apologize for speaking to Kestrel, sir. I disappointed you. I meant no harm.” The tone
of Malachi’s voice was quiet, tired, sorrowful.
“Do you understand why I was upset?”
“Yes, sir. You wish no one to know of our … arrangement, sir, and Kestrel knows.”
“Do you understand why no one must know, Malachi?”
Malachi sighed softly. “Because my worth to the club would fade if my desires went
public, sir. Because you guard your privacy, sir.”
He frowned. “I thought you enjoyed your work at the club?” He would not hold Malachi
in a position Malachi did not want, no matter how much money the club would lose if Malachi
left.
“Sir? I enjoy my work very much.” Those pale eyes flashed up at him, confused.
“How many people do you think would take you seriously if they knew you were the
perfect sub? Because you are, my ice flame, you are the consummate sub.”
His Malachi flushed a deep rose, teeth sinking into that full bottom lip. “I did not intend
to disobey you, sir. I …”
The soft voice trailed off, Malachi’s eyes fastening on the floor.
Oh, how he wanted to drop to the floor and crawl over to Malachi, to kiss the worry and
pain away. But he could not. The holding and comfort would come after, later, in the dark they
would hold each other.
“I know you did not. However, you did. Name your punishment and let us fulfill it so that
we may put this behind us.”
“Anything, sir. As long as I might stay with you. Here with you.”
He waved his hand. “Of course you’re staying with me. Pick something. Let’s be done
with this.”
Malachi thought for a long moment. “The cane, sir.”
“Very well. Bring it to me and assume the position.”
He didn’t let his dismay show. The cane. It was a harsh punishment, one he would not
have granted himself. Which was why he had asked and made Malachi himself choose.
Malachi was silent and pale as the cane was placed in his hands, then the lean body knelt
before him, trembling forcibly stopped.
He stood and circled Malachi once, stopping when he was next to one thin, pale hip.
“How many?”
“As many as you believe I deserve, sir.”
He brought the cane down hard across the top of Malachi’s buttocks. “I asked you how
many.”
Malachi’s skin went stark white, the flames bright. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Th … th … three,
sir. Three.”
“Very well. Three.”
He laid them down quickly across Malachi’s back, the last one splitting the skin. He
could see the sweat sheening the pale skin, see the almost invisible tremors as his Malachi stayed
still and silent.
Then a soft whisper sounded. “Th … thank you, sir.”
“We’re done. We will not mention it again. Clean and put the cane away and join me in
my bed.”
“Yes, sir.” Malachi stood carefully, taking the cane from him without meeting his eyes.
He made his way to the bedroom, neatly folding and putting away his clothes before
climbing into the huge bed that dominated the room. He reached beneath it, bringing out the first
aid kit.
Malachi came in, silent and so strong, so very disciplined, and knelt next to the bed.
“Lie down over my lap, Malachi.”
“Yes, sir.” It only took seconds before his flame was draped over his lap, body hot and
damp.
He didn’t murmur in appreciation though he was tempted to. He had a job to do first.
He sprayed Malachi’s back with antiseptic and then sprayed it again with plasti-skin. The
plasti-skin would ensure the wounds stayed clean, but would not close them, so until Malachi
healed, he would be reminded of his punishment.
Once he had taken care of Malachi’s medical needs, he pushed the medical kit to the far
end of the bed and began to touch his flame. He stroked the fine buttocks and the long nape,
fingers gentle. Malachi took a deep, shaky breath, a silent shudder rocking the lean body.
“I love you, Malachi.”
A soft sob sounded, Malachi’s forehead dropping to the mattress. “I love you.”
“Good. Good.” He slid his hand down between Malachi’s legs, fondling the soft sacs.
“Oh …” Malachi’s body rippled, the sacs wrinkling under his touch, the tension slowly
fading.
“Mmm … that’s it, let go. I think it is time for you and I to love each other, would you
not agree, my flame?”
“Yes, sir. Oh, yes.” Those pale eyes met his for a moment, so fierce, his flame. “You hold
my heart.”
He leaned down and placed a kiss in the small of Malachi’s back between two stripes.
“And you hold mine. Never forget that.”
Malachi took a deep breath, nodded, beginning to lean against him, touch him.
He shifted them so that they were lying on their sides, face to face. His hands began to
explore, touching the beautiful muscles, tracing the flame tattoos.
Malachi blinked slowly, the mask of control slipping away as he was offered the heat and
beauty of Malachi’s love, Malachi’s desire.
He kissed Malachi’s eyelids and then his nose and his cheeks and his lips, slowly
worshiping the embodiment of that love and desire and heat. Malachi returned his kiss, tongue
slowly lapping at his lips, mingling their breath.
His hands wandered, tracing by heart the flames on Malachi’s stomach, fingernails
dragging over warm, smooth skin. Malachi moved closer, hands opening and closing against his
skin, the softest moan sounding.
He brought their mouths together as his fingers slid along Malachi’s prick, lighting the
fire at two ends. That long prick was hard for him, jumping into his touch, liquid heat sliding in
slow drops from the tip.
He brought his fingers to his lips, sucking each one into his mouth to taste the bitter need
of his flame. Another soft, needy sound filled the air and Malachi arched against him, hips
rubbing.
He held his own need in check, wishing to pleasure Malachi first.
His thumb slid across the tip of Malachi’s cock, his fingers forming a loose tunnel. The
passion that his Malachi hid from the world blazed, body moving furiously, low noises becoming
hungry and loud.
He slowly kissed his way down the writing body, lingering at Malachi’s nipples.
“Oh.” The word was filled with need and pleasure and raw emotion. “Please.”
“Anything,” he murmured, tongue sliding along Malachi’s skin, tracing the tattoos along
the beautiful abdomen.
“My love.” Malachi was twisting and writhing for him now, hands sliding through his
hair.
“Yes, Malachi, that’s it.” He continued his way down, licking the drops of pre-cum from
the lovely belly, the length of Malachi’s cock stroking his cheek.
Malachi moaned and rolled and arched for him – uninhibited and wild, responding to his
need, his desires perfectly.
He rubbed Malachi’s cock over his face and then took the tip into his mouth, sucking
firmly. Malachi cried out, feet thrumming on the mattress, hips pushing wildly. He grabbed
Malachi’s hips, encouraging the movements, taking that hot prick in deeper.
A low keening filled the room, Malachi jerking and filling his mouth with hot seed. He
swallowed it all, taking in every drop of his flame’s pleasure.
Malachi slumped to the mattress, panting softly, eyes rolling. Purring, he slowly licked
his way back up the lean body. Malachi touched him, hands stroking his spine, his shoulders,
while his flame shook and moaned softly.
He licked at Malachi’s neck, finding his spot before carefully sinking in his teeth and
making his mark.
Mal arched into him, head back and offering him everything. “Yours.”
“Yes. Mine.” A shudder went through him, his own need making itself known now that
he had pleasured Malachi.
“Are you ready for me?”
Malachi nodded for him, eyes flashing. “Yes. Yes, sir. I am.”
Yes, of course his Malachi was ready for him. His flame was an amazing top, the perfect
teacher. But Malachi’s true calling was as a sub and he never … well almost never, ever took a
wrong step.
He spread Malachi’s legs with his knees and pushed inside the slick, hot passage.
Malachi welcomed him with a soft cry, muscles rippling around him, pulling him in deeper,
holding him tight.
He held himself absolutely still, eyes on Malachi’s, watching his flame burn. His shaft
was squeezed and rubbed, Malachi’s control amazing, beautiful, fabulous. His. This belonged
solely to him. He held the position for as long as he could, Malachi sending him soaring even as
he held as still as a statue.
At last he broke with a cry and began to move, fucking Malachi with strong thrusts.
“Yours! Yours, Hercules.” Malachi shifted, heels digging into the bed.
Yes. His.
He increased the strength of his thrusts, losing himself in the sensations, in Malachi’s
eyes, Malachi’s body.
He could see the heat of orgasm building in those wide eyes, feel the heat around his cock
increase.
“I love you, Malachi,” he murmured, wrapping his lips around his mark on Malachi’s
neck and sucking softly.
His flame clenched hard around him, heat splashing on his belly, a happy cry floating on
the air. He let Malachi’s climax pull him into his own, his whole body tightening with it as he
filled Malachi with his essence.
He collapsed onto the beautiful body, panting.
“I love you, Hercules.” Malachi’s lips brushed his ear, those arms circling him. “Please,
may I stay?”
“Yes, Malachi, you may stay.”
Then he gave his beautiful flame a gift to prove all was truly forgiven. The truth. “I do
not sleep without you to warm me.”
“Oh.” Malachi carefully curled around him and offered a gift of his own. “I was afraid
that it was a dream. That I desired your touch, your attention, your love so much I invented it in
my head to comfort me.”
He purred softly, petting his dear Malachi, holding him. “I shall have to give you more of
my touch and attention and love, my flame, if you are not sure of them.”
“You give me more than I ever hoped, love.”
“You are happy, Malachi?” He could not remember ever asking, but it was important.
Very important.
“Yes, sir. Yes, I am.”
“Good.” He pulled the covers up over them, and shared body heat with Malachi. “Good.”
Chapter Three
Oh, man, what a night.
One of the workerbee trainees from off-world had snapped and bit Richmond’s arm
deep – Richmond was up with the Doc and the feral one was back in a private room with the one
who brought him. Fool. Mal hoped the little beast bit his top’s nuts off.
He chuckled. Oh, now there was a visual not for public consumption.
Consumption.
Oh, fuck. Now that was funny.
Kestrel tottered over with two more flagons of Gregorian spirits, grinning. “You’re
laughing, Mal-love! Are you drunk?”
“Not near enough, Pretty Bird, but you’ll help me with that, yeah?”
They were Taking a Night Off.
Hell, after the day he’d had, he might take two.
Three.
A month.
“Think the boss man would give me a month off, Kes?”
Kestrel laughed hysterically, eyes flashing, rainbow colored hair wild. “A month? Shit,
Mal, Hercules is unbearable when you’re out of the building for a day.”
He slammed back a shot and chuckled as Kes sipped, shivering with each taste.
“Lightweight.”
Kestrel stuck out his tongue. “Bitch.”
“Flighty cocksucker.”
“Mouthy prick.”
“Nosy.”
“Pushy.”
Mal blinked. “Well, yeah, Kes. That’s my job.”
They started laughing, giggles turning to full-out hysteria in short order.
“Well, well, this looks like a recipe for trouble.” There was a grin in Des’ voice and one
to match on the man’s face. “How come no one told me it was ‘get drunk off your ass night’?”
Mal looked up from where he’d ended in Kes’ lap. “You were too busy hoarding your
muscle-bound boy to read the memo. Come! Sit! Share! Your boy’s all the gossip these days and
you didn’t even send him to me for a welcoming beating.”
He tried to pout, but Kestrel started laughing and ruined it.
Des didn’t laugh though, he was looking extremely serious. “Connor is mine, Mal. You
could spread the word, if you liked. No one else will be touching him.”
He blinked and sat up, just a little stunned. “You’ve taken a partner, then? Honestly?”
“Honestly? Yes.”
“Well, congratulations. Kestrel …”
Kestrel was already up and moving, kissing Des’ cheek. “I’ll get the champagne! Oh,
how wonderful for you, Des! I’m so very pleased!”
Des laughed and gave Kestrel a bear hug and a kiss. “Thank you, little bird. Thank you,
Mal. I’m a lucky man.”
He patted the seat beside him. “Come now, tell us about him. Was he truly just a guest?”
Kestrel bounced over with glasses and a bottle. “Will there be a collaring party? Can I
plan it? I love parties!”
Mal looked over and rolled his eyes. “No … You? Love parties?”
Kes stuck out his tongue. “Meanie.”
Des came to sit next to him, rubbing their cheeks briefly. “I promise you may plan the
party, Kes. But don’t start just yet. Connor is … less sure of me than I am of him. And indeed,
Mal, he was just a guest – came with some friends so it wasn’t even his idea to be here. There
will be an adjustment period, as you might imagine.”
Mal nodded, taking the glass that Kes offered. “It’s always hardest, those days after the
first shock wears off and before they find what they need. Is he a fighter?”
“He’s scared, but he doesn’t fight it. More … pulls away.” Des gave him a wink. “Of
course we’ll have to see how he reacts the first time I beat him.”
“Ah, a turtle.” Mal nodded and grinned and winked. “You’re almost as good as I am,
Des. You’ll have him in the palm of your hand.” He sipped his champagne. “If he’s lucky,
anyway …”
Des laughed. “That’s what I keep telling him. That’s he’s lucky.”
“I don’t remember giving everyone the night off.” Hercules’s voice was quiet, cool,
almost cold. The man himself was standing in the doorway, one eyebrow arched, looking cool,
calm and collected. Nothing ever seemed to ruffle Hercules’ feathers. Mal knew better, but he’d
never tell.
Kestrel fluttered, suddenly all nerves and hands and hair. “I’ve been checking the floor,
Hercules. We’re covered. Honest. The training salle is closed for cleaning and the trainers are all
off. Because of the incident. Policy, remember? If a trainer loses control of a …”
He stood, hand sliding down Kes’ spine, soothing. “Relax, Pretty Bird.” He met
Hercules’s eyes calmly, surely. “Until Richmond and I can speak about the situation, the
Training Salle is closed. You were sent a communication regarding the situation.”
Hercules’s other eyebrow went up, heat flaring for a moment in the violet eyes,
promising him it wasn’t over. “I know the Salle is closed. In fact, I came to find you, Mal; I want
an in-person report. Kestrel, there will be more players than usual on the floor. I’d like you to
keep abreast of the situation personally, and I am to be informed of any incidents that occur
immediately, though I am sure you and your staff can keep everyone happy.”
Hercules turned to Des, a smile on his face. “You look happy, old friend.”
Des raised his glass. “I am indeed.”
A ball of heat flared in the pit of Mal’s stomach and he forced himself to remain cool, in
control as he nodded. Kestrel, of course, peeped and nodded and kissed Des and him before
fluttering out the door.
Des finished his champagne and put down his glass. “Well, I should be getting back to
my quarters, wouldn’t want Connor to think he’s been abandoned.”
His cheek was brushed again by Des’, Hercules given a nod and then he and the boss
were alone.
Hercules closed the door and locked it.
Mal bit back his moan and simply stood and waited, eyes focused on the low table before
him.
Hercules slowly walked around him, coming to a stop behind him.
“Well, everything appears to be in order here. The Salle is cleaned and ready for
tomorrow evening.” It wasn’t a question, Hercules knew very well he and Kes wouldn’t have
been drinking if things were not in order.
“Yes, sir.” His breathing slowed, his entire focus on the sounds of the man behind him.
“Good. Bring me one of the whipping implements to inspect, strip and bend over.”
He shivered, the action hidden in his leathers, and then moved to unlock one of the huge
cabinets that held their equipment. Mal reached in and found a heavy leather strap made of six
layers held together by a thick handle. He’d created it himself, going so far as to design the
handle after a plug. He could see a pale sub with heavy red marks on his back and ass, kneeling
before a top and sucking while that burning ass was stretched wide.
Lovely.
He brought it to Hercules without a word, holding it out for inspection.
Hercules took the tool, checked it carefully. Mal knew if there was a single mark
anywhere on the leather Hercules would return it and leave.
At last Hercules nodded and hefted the strap. “Proceed.”
Mal stripped quickly, quietly, folding his clothes and setting them aside along with his
boots. Then he stood before Hercules and bent, hands on the low table.
Warm fingers briefly touched his spine and then the strap came down.
The blow was deep and heavy, thudding down in his bones. He closed his eyes, his
mouth, focusing on nothing but his breath and pleasing Hercules.
Another blow landed, next to the first and then a third across the first two.
He knew that when he saw his back next there would be a series of bruises marking the
width of the strap.
Several blows landed on his ass and the back of his thighs, Hercules using the whole
canvas of his back so that he never knew where the next blow was going to land.
He was beginning to sweat, breath coming faster as his legs trembled. Still, he did not
speak, did not move, simply accepted all he was given.
He was trembling hard when Hercules stopped, fingers tracing the marks, pressing
lightly.
The touches made him shudder and his hands tightened on the edge of the table, the
pressure reminding him to find his center, his control.
“This is one of yours, isn’t it, Malachi?”
“Y … yes, Sir. Yes, Sir.” He nodded, the motion rocking his body.
“I believe I know what you were thinking when you made it. Shall we see if I am right?”
“As you wish, Sir.” He closed his eyes, the softest moan threatening, body tightening in
anticipation.
Hercules stepped away for several moments and then Hercules was back, the heavy
handle of the strap pushing against his hole, slick with lube and still warm from Hercules’s hand.
A soft gasp escaped him, his hips instinctively moving away for a heartbeat before he
stilled himself.
“Take it in, Malachi.”
“Yes, Sir.” He bit his bottom lip, spreading his thighs as he pressed backward, feeling
himself pierced by the leather-covered hardness.
A soft moan sounded, Hercules’s free hand sliding over the top of his ass. “Beautiful.”
Oh.
The ache in his body turned to a burn as he fucked himself on the thick handle, offering
this to Hercules.
Another moan and more touches were his reward, Hercules’ free hand wrapping around
his hip to guide his movements.
He kept moving, the wide bit of the plug stretching him further than he could believe and
he kept sliding away and returning, attempting to take more.
When he had taken in the whole thing, Hercules stopped him. “Hands and knees,
Malachi.”
Mal moved slowly, head swimming a little from the position and the earlier booze,
settling on the floor.
Hercules moved around to stand in front of him, leaving the strap handle inside him, the
heavy strap pulling it, weighting it.
“Is this what you imagined as you made the strap, Malachi?” Hercules asked him, thick
cock removed from the fancy pants, rubbed against his face.
He shifted, moaning low, hips swaying of their own accord. “Yes, Sir.”
He was no longer even surprised that Hercules knew.
“Complete the picture, Malachi. Take my cock.”
He reached up, taking the long cock eagerly, eyes closed as he sucked. He cock throbbed
in time, body burning with need.
“Stunning, Malachi. Never believe I do not appreciate the workings of your mind.”
Hercules’s voice was rough, the cool calm facade gone. For him. For him alone.
The cock in his mouth freed him from silence and he moaned and purred and hummed,
need filling him. Hercules filled his mouth, his throat, his thoughts.
“Yes, Malachi. My Malachi. Mine.”
Hercules’s hands wrapped around his head, beginning to fuck his mouth.
Yours. Yours, Sir. Yours, Love. Yours.
He opened wide, crying out in pleasure.
Yours.
Love.
Faster and faster, Hercules took his mouth, moans and groans filling the air. His stoic,
quiet and cool boss becoming the passionate lover he alone knew.
“Come with me,” growled Hercules, slamming into his mouth.
His eyes went wide, fastening onto Hercules’, swallowing hard as seed poured from him.
Hercules’s eyes were soft and dark as seed poured from Hercules’s cock down his throat.
Greedy, Mal drank it all, tongue sliding along the hard shaft.
“Mmm …” Hercules stroked his face, cock very slowly softening in his mouth. “Push the
handle out, Malachi.”
He whimpered, fighting his body to make it do Hercules’ will, breath returning when the
toy clattered to the floor.
Hercules drew withdrew the softening cock from his mouth, hands encouraging him to
stand.
He was kissed, long and slow and deep.
“Clean up in here and then come home, Malachi.”
Another soft kiss graced his lips and then Hercules was walking back toward the door,
doing up his pants.
He watched for a heartbeat, centering himself, whispering softly. “Yes, Sir. I love you.”
Then he bent for the strap, taking it to the autoclave for sterilization.
Chapter Four
Mal had one guaranteed day off a week. One day where he didn’t go on the floor, didn’t
go to the training salle, didn’t have to be on.
Of course, that assumed two of his asshole trainers didn’t fucking fall in “love” and run
off to some fucking resort to play suck-face during their busy season.
He was on his eighteenth day without a break.
Eighteen days.
Even Kes had taken a day off and Kes never took days off.
Ever.
So, maybe he was a little growly.
Maybe he worked the subs a little harder than normal.
Maybe he wasn’t the most polite he’d ever been in his life, but if one more person came
up and fluttered their eyelashes and wanted a spanking? He was going to beat them to death.
With a shovel.
A rusty, dull shovel.
He stalked over to the lift, growling under his breath.
His comlink beeped at him.
It beeped again, the sound insistent. Imperious.
Damn it straight to hell.
He picked it up and thumbed it, growl breaking free. “I’m off the floor.”
“Then you’ll be in my rooms forthwith, won’t you.” It wasn’t a question, Hercules’ voice
cold.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. He took a deep, deep breath. “Yes, sir. I’m at the lift now.”
There. That was … less growly.
“I’ll be waiting in the cave.”
“Yes, sir.” He stepped into the lift, putting in the code for the 28th floor. “How would
you like me, Sir?”
“Here,” snapped Hercules, the connection cutting off.
Bastard.
Pushy, hard-assed, frowning bastard.
Controlling, tough, sure, sensual, sexy, perfect son of a bitch.
Mal stepped out of the lift, leaving his comm and whips and things in the drawer
Hercules left for him, locking the outward symbols of Mal the Trainer away, then headed for the
cave.
He could hear the sound of leather thudding against wood as he walked into the room at
the very center of Hercules’ penthouse.
The boss was dressed in a suit of purple so dark it was almost black, especially in the low
lighting of the cave. The man was working out his arm, slamming a heavy flogger against a table
again and again.
“Ah, Malachi. It’s about time. The sound just isn’t the same without flesh.”
He shuddered, the temptation to just turn on Hercules and scream, dump all the anger and
frustration in a pile, sudden and unexpected. He was tired, more tired than he thought.
He walked across the room, boot heels clacking on the floor, and knelt at Hercules’ feet.
Hercules purred, hand sliding across his head, along his cheek. “You’re not naked,
Malachi.”
He almost sobbed at the soft touch, eyes closing. “No, Sir. I’m sorry. I was unsure of
your wishes.”
Hercules growled. “It’s been too long. Strip. Now. Then lay yourself out on the table. I’m
going to beat you until you bleed.”
He rumbled back, moving to strip off his vest and unlace his pants. His fury and
frustration was huge, threatening his control. “Permission to speak, Sir.”
“Permission granted, Malachi. Just remember how long it’s been since we’ve been in this
room and how much you need what is going to happen here, and choose your words wisely.”
There was steel in that voice, in those violet eyes.
He nodded and met Hercules’ eyes. “I am at the edge of my control, Sir. I can feel it. I
don’t want to disappoint you.”
There. He’d done what he would ask someone to do for him. He’d been honest.
Hercules’ hand came out, another gentle touch stroking his face. “I know, Malachi, and I
expect you to either safeword or let me break the dam.”
He nodded, soaking up the touch, the comfort, then finished stripping without a word and
climbed up onto the table.
Hercules’ hands stroked his skin first, warm fingertips sensitizing him for the blows to
come.
The anticipation was horrible, tremors aggravating him as he fought the urge to tense up.
Hercules made a sound, almost a tsk, and then the flogger came down, landing on his ass
with a dull thud.
The sensation was familiar, deep, the ache welcome as it settled in.
Hercules’ hand returned to his back, fingertips dancing. He thought he felt the soft, warm
touch of Hercules’ lips and then the next blow hit, slamming across his shoulders.
That one broke a soft gasp from him, his muscles rippling. He forced himself to relax, to
breathe slowly.
Hercules hummed softly, the sound approving. There were no touches this time before
the flogger fell again, thudding across the small of his back and then again across the tops of his
thighs.
His hips shifted, ass swaying just barely, hands gripping the edge of the table.
Hercules’ nails scrapped at the welt growing on his ass and then another blow fell,
perpendicular to the one on his shoulders.
That ached, burned deep inside him and he growled, jerking.
“That’s it, Malachi. Feel my touch.”
The flogger fell twice more, cutting his shoulder blades both times.
He shook, fighting to catch his breath, to center himself, but Hercules kept pushing him,
driving him.
The next three blows were angled the other way and then a fourth and fifth cut across his
ass.
Hercules’ arm was strong, the blows hard and even.
He groaned, legs curling beneath him, head falling back. “Hercules!”
His feet received a blow. “Lie straight.”
He shifted, growling low, frustrated anger filling him.
The blows began to rain down steadily after that, ranging from his shoulders to his feet
and every part of him in-between. Hard, solid, even. Hercules never grunted, never moaned,
never said a word, just kept beating him.
He was burning, aching, low cries filling the air. He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t
see, couldn’t find a place to move to escape the blows.
They stopped suddenly, Hercules’ fingers pressing against the welts, dragging from his
feet on up, stopping to squeeze his ass before continuing to his neck.
Malachi keened, breath sobbing from him as he burned, ached.
The next touch was a warm lick, Hercules’ tongue gentle around the shell of his ear.
Then it was gone and the blows began anew, criss-crossing over the welts already there.
He shuddered, crying out, begging, holding tight to that touch to his ear, that soft kiss.
That promise.
“Please! Please, Sir!”
“Please what?” demanded Hercules, the blows not stopping, if anything growing harder,
fiercer.
He screamed, roaring out a fortnight’s fury and frustration and exhaustion, letting it pour
from him in a rush, letting his hard-kept self-control slide from his fingers.
Hercules beat him until he had screamed himself hoarse and then the flogger was flung
across the room and he was gathered into strong arms and carried to Hercules’ bed.
He held on, breath coming in gasps and sobs, tears he hadn’t even known he’d shed
drying on his cheeks.
Hercules rocked him, singing softly to him, whispering words of love and need and want.
He sank into it, wrapping himself in the sensation of being wanted and cared for, of being
loved. So good. Everything he needed.
Eventually Hercules laid him down on his stomach and his back was sprayed, cooling his
abused flesh.
He groaned, thighs parting as his cock started to fill, to take an interest.
Hercules’ hands parted his legs and slid between them to tease the flesh just behind his
balls before cupping them gently.
“Oh …” His toes curled and he purred, melted inside.
Hercules leaned over his back, heat burning him. His ear was licked again and then a soft
whisper asked, “Are you ready now, Malachi? To be loved?”
“Yes, please. Please, love me.” He was dissolved, all he knew was heat and Hercules and
peace.
His face was turned, Hercules kissing him softly and then deeply, hands sliding along his
sides, leaving his abused back be.
He opened easily, purring into Hercules lips, offering this man what he could give none
other – his vulnerability.
As they continued to kiss, Hercules moved him, turning him to his side and lying to face
him.
Warm fingers stroked his neck, teased his nipples and moved inexorably down toward his
cock.
Malachi watched Hercules, hands slowly adoring the long body before him, loving with
all he had.
Hercules’ hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly as warm rumbles came from
Hercules’ chest.
Keening, he licked his lips, balls drawing up tight.
Hercules’ tongue chased his, the touches light and loving, focused entirely on him.
“Love you.” He almost laughed, heated all through.
“Mmm … my dear Malachi. I love you.”
Hercules’ kisses grew eager, the hand holding his cock shifting to take Hercules’ prick
along with his own.
“Oh …” He gasped into Hercules’ mouth, shaking, hips beginning to rock, making his
back flame.
“That’s it; let us take our pleasure together.”
He reached down, his fingers twining with Hercules’. “Yes, please.”
“Yes, Malachi. Oh, yes.” Hercules pushed closer, taking his mouth again in another deep,
undeniable kiss.
They moved together, sure and strong, sharing breath and need and love.
“Give me your pleasure now, Malachi. Share yourself with me.”
His body was so attuned to Hercules’ will that it could do no less than obey, seed
splashing from him in waves.
Hercules’ own heat followed, bathing them both in more come.
He breathed deeply, inhaling their scents. “So good.”
“Yes.”
Hercules lay back and tugged him gently so that he was lying half on his lover, back open
to the air.
“I love you.” He rested one cheek against Hercules, eyes fluttering closed, a peaceful
exhaustion overtaking him.
“I know. And I love you, Malachi.”
Hercules’ hand slid along his back, not quite touching, but his bruised and welted flesh
could feel the almost touch.
“No more growling, Malachi. That isn’t how we deal with our anger.”
He nodded and snuggled in, hair standing up where Hercules’ hands passed, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Good.”
Hercules petted his elbow and settled, breath slowing.
He needed to get up, get his commlink and set a wake-up call. His first appointment was
immediately after breakfast in the Training Salle. He chewed his bottom lip, curled his toes,
trying to keep himself awake until Hercules fell asleep.
“Malachi.”
Hercules’ voice was sharp, warning.
Damn it. He looked up, “I’m sorry for disturbing you, Sir.”
“Be sorry for disturbing yourself, Malachi. Don’t make me beat you again to get you to
sleep.”
“No, Sir. Permission to retrieve my comm and set a wake-up call?” He blushed, cuddling
in. “I am afraid I would sleep too long. It is so good, here, with you.”
“Sleep as long as you need, Malachi.” Hercules chuckled. “I have an in with the boss and
will clear things with him.”
Oh.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” He felt tired tears fill his eyes and he melted, asleep before his
hand settled on Hercules’ belly.
* * * * *
His shift was over.
Thank all the gods.
He was burning. Aching. Needing.
The lift took him to the top floor and opened, the doors closing behind him.
He settled on his knees, eyes closed. He’d done it. A full day. He’d done as Hercules
asked.
He’d done Hercules’ will.
It was almost two hours later before the doors of the lift opened behind him. “Ah,
Malachi, you’re here, good.”
“Yes, sir.” He’d been almost asleep; completely centered inside himself, anticipation a
warm glow.
Hercules walked slowly around him. “Well, you didn’t do a bad job hiding your
condition today.”
“Thank you, sir.” Malachi felt a swell of pride, a heat.
“Kestrel was sniffing around, wanting to know if you were ‘all right’.” Hercules growled
a little. “Man has his nose everywhere.” It was part annoyance and part admiration in the big
boss’ voice.
“Yes, sir, he does.” He squashed his smile. Kes’ talent was that nose, that instinct to
know what was going on. It made the man invaluable.
“Did you tell him?” The question was sharp.
He met Hercules’ eyes, completely sure in this. “I told no one, Hercules.”
“That’s my Malachi.”
Hercules gave him a smile and held out a hand to him. “Come and sit with me. I would
speak with you awhile.”
“Yes, sir.” He took Hercules’ hand, hissing softly as he stood.
One of Hercules’ eyebrows went up, and unless he was very much mistaken there was a
wicked glint in the violet eyes.
His heart raced a bit and he met Hercules’ eyes. “Would you prefer me silent or to share
my sounds, sir?”
Hercules chuckled. “Oh, I want to hear you, Malachi. I very much want to hear you.”
He flushed, nodded. “Yes, sir. As you will.”
“I know.” Hercules drew him into his office and sat, nodding to the other chair. The very
hard, unforgiving other chair.
He forced himself to sit normally, not to flinch. Oh, he was hard. Needy.
And Hercules knew it. “Anything interesting happen today?” The question was casual,
lazy.
He pondered. “That little sub that went comatose? The Doc says he’s a seer. Peter and
Paul had another spat.”
“A spat you say? Shocking.” Hercules actually grinned at him and then became serious
again. “A seer? I thought those were myths.”
“I did too, Sir, but the Doc insists the boy is one. He’s doing some tests and he’ll keep us
informed.”
“You’ll keep an eye on the situation for me.” Hercules sat back, regarding him closely.
“Anything else you need to report?”
“I retained the plug and cage all day, as you asked.” He swallowed hard, stomach
rippling.
Hercules sat forward, one hand sliding along his leg. “Tell me about it.”
He spread, head bowing, eyes dropping. “Every motion, Sir, I felt you – on my back, my
cock, my ass. You were everywhere around me.”
Hercules purred. “I am inexorable.”
“I heard your voice with every step, Sir.”
“And what was I telling you?”
“That you would touch me, Sir. That this was your will.”
“Yes.” Hercules stood, taking his hand and pulling him up, leading him toward the
playroom.”
His heart was pounding, pride building. He loved little more than to have pleased his
lover.
“Strip,” Hercules ordered, leaning against the doorframe, eyes intent.
He removed his blouse and undershirt first, groaning as his skin hit the air.
There was a low purr from his lover. “Let me see.”
He turned, exposing his marked back. Each line burned and ached. Each single line a
signature drawn by Hercules’ hand.
Hercules’ booted footsteps sounded, warning him that his lover came near. The lines on
his back were traced by gentle fingers, Hercules’ purr of pleasure sounding again.
He closed his eyes, moaning softly. His hand continued working open his pants, though.
Hercules had not asked him to stop.
Hercules moaned, fingers following the whip marks down to his ass as he pulled the
pants down. His moan answered his lover’s. Marked. He was marked by the most powerful,
strongest man he’d ever met. The only one who had ever seen him for who he was.
“Right off. The boots, too.” Hercules’ voice was husky and he knew that no one else
heard the man like this. Only him.
Sure fingers slid along his crease and jostled the plug inside him.
“Y … yes, sir.” He stripped, breath coming quick and light now, sensations teasing his
control.
Once he was naked, Hercules’ hands cupped his ass cheeks, spreading them. The plug
was teased within him. “Spread.”
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall, thighs spreading wide. His bound cock
and balls were exposed, his ass trembling. Only for Hercules.
The sound of Hercules’ zipper was loud, even as the plug inside him was twisted, pulled
halfway out and plunged back in deep. He could feel the shudder move through him, ass to head,
and he whimpered, hips pushing back as he begged.
Again and again the phallus inside him was twisted and turned, pulled out only to be
pushed deep again. His world was beginning to spin, body taking the plug again and again, yet
wanting more.
Wanting Hercules.
It came without warning.
One moment it was the plug taking him, the next it was Hercules’ fat, hot prick slamming
into him. He could feel the bite of metal zipper against his ass, the material of Hercules’ pants
rough against his abused skin.
His cry echoed through the room, short and sharp and desperate. He lived for this – for
the heat and the pressure and the pain and the way Hercules made him fly.
Hercules fucked him hard, long cock pushing deep with every thrust. Long fingers slid
over his skin, pressing along the barely-day-old welts that covered his back.
He gave Hercules everything, every bit of need and pleasure and pain and want.
Everything.
When he didn’t think he could stand for another second, Hercules kept plunging into him,
proving to him that he had more to give.
When his voice became hoarse, Hercules’ fingers found his nipples, proving he could still
offer his lover sounds.
He was truly flying by the time Hercules called out, slamming in deep and filling him
with burning seed.
Panting, Hercules lay against his back, buried deep inside him.
He was sobbing, shaking, cock and balls and ass and back throbbing, muscles trembling.
The bonds felt like they were cutting into him, squeezing so hard, preventing him from having
what he wanted, what he needed.
Hercules groaned as the softening cock slid out of him and then his lover’s fingers began
touching again, warm and soft and gentle against his skin.
One finger slid back inside him, the others painting his thighs with the seed that slowly
dripped from him.
“Stand.”
Hercules gave the order as he moved away, came around to lean casually against the
wall, once again fully clothed, cock hidden away within his lover’s pants.
He forced himself to stand, to be strong, to not waver. He would be everything Hercules
expected.
Those violet eyes shone for him. Pride and admiration made them dark.
Hercules slid a hand along his chest, fingers stopping to tweak each nipple before
stroking their way down toward his bound cock.
His body was thrumming, heart pounding furiously. He didn’t watch that hand though,
focusing only on those beautiful eyes.
Hercules too, held his gaze, fingers moving over his cock now and his balls, so warm
through the leather and metal. Then he was being released, the leather and metal loosening and
falling away as Hercules murmured. “Hold on for me, Malachi.”
“Yes, Sir.” He nodded, holding on to that gaze as a drowning man held a rope.
“Anything.”
“My Malachi,” purred Hercules, fingers stroking his cock, torturing him.
“Yours.” The words were more a breath given form. A whisper.
“Show me.”
It took no more than that and he came, eyes full of nothing more than his Hercules,
knowing nothing but love.
Hercules’ fingers, covered in his seed, pushed against his lips.
He opened wide, eager, still hard as he sucked and licked, fed on his own come.
A low moan was his reward, Hercules’ eyes growing darker still. “Undress me.”
He offered Hercules a happy moan, fingers working to bare the long, fine, loved torso
before he dropped to his knees and opened Hercules’ pants.
Hercules’ cock was half-hard and, as he pulled his lover’s pants down to the boots, his
cheek brushed against it.
“Take off the boots and then bring me to hardness, Malachi.”
He nodded, rubbing against the warm prick before helping Hercules off with the heavy
boots. Then Malachi proceeded to lick his way up to the heavy cock waiting for him, spending
time on the inside of Hercules’ thigh and the velvet soft sacs.
“Always willing to take your time and do a thorough job of it, even when you want. I like
that about you, Malachi.” One of Hercules’ hands dropped to slide through his hair.
He purred, lips exploring, entire focus on his lover.
Hercules’ cock grew hard inside his mouth and he could feel his lover’s heartbeat.
“You’ve pleased me, Malachi. You may have any reward you wish.”
Anything. Oh. He met Hercules’ eyes and screwed up his courage and whispered his
most fond wish. “I want to wear your mark always, Hercules. I want to know I am yours.
Always.”
Hercules’ eyes widened, but he was not refused. “Where would you have it done?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. I didn’t know I would tell you until you spoke.”
He’d fantasized about Hercules marking him permanently in a hundred ways and in
dozens of spots.
“Do you wish to be able to see it?” Hercules asked him, cock sliding across his lips.
He moaned, licking at the hard cock, thinking. “It could not be where the others can see. I
could always touch. Or you could see it for me.”
He whimpered at the though of Hercules’ fingers, tracing a mark.
“Stand,” Hercules ordered, walking slowly around him when he did.
“Here.” Warm fingers moved over the small of his back.
“Or here.” This time those sure fingers slid between his legs and stroked the skin between
his balls and his ass.
“Or here.” This time his scalp was caressed, in the back just above his neck.
Oh. He took a deep breath, shuddering, body thrumming. “Behind my balls, Sir. Where
no eyes but yours will ever see it.”
“Then it will be done. But first, I want to fuck you through the mattress.”
He nodded, gasping. “Yes. Yes, please, love. Please.”
“Let’s go to bed, Malachi.”
Hercules took his hand and led him from the playroom to the simple but sumptuous
bedroom.
He pushed into Hercules’ arms, taking a long, deep kiss, hands burying in Hercules’ hair.
Oh, how he loved …
Hercules’ careful control that was always on display in the playroom disappeared once
they were in the bedroom. He was pushed to the bed, Hercules rubbing them together.
He laughed softly, pushing back, moaning low. His hands were exploring, searching,
loving.
“Good,” murmured Hercules. “You’re happy.”
“I love you.” He met Hercules’ eyes, still kissing and nuzzling.
Hercules looked down at him, very seriously. “I love you, Malachi.”
“I know.” His chest was tight, heart pounding like it was the first time he’d let Hercules
in. “Make love to me. Please, love.”
“Yes.” Hercules bent, bringing their mouths together in a deep, all-consuming kiss.
His world shrank to their mouths, to the flavor and pleasure and passion he found there.
Hercules put everything into the kiss, offering it all to him. He drank it up, moaning and
eager, all controls and games and bullshit thrown aside.
Hercules’ hands slid over his skin, tracing and arousing, touching him, knowing him. His
own hands explored his lover’s face and jaw, then down the long neck and strong shoulders.
Hercules moaned, his pleasure clear and obvious.
His fingers found Hercules’ nipples, stroking them to hardness, thighs parting to cradle
the long body.
Gasping, Hercules’ hips rolled against him.
Mal scooted down, lips and tongue working the stiff nubs, sucking and licking.
“Malachi …” Hercules jerked against him, hips beginning to move rhythmically.
He reached down, shifting to guide that fat, sweet prick to his hole. “Yours, Hercules. All
of me.”
“Yes, mine.” Hercules pushed into him, slow and smooth.
Yes. Perfect. He looked up into those violet eyes, his soul offered up.
“Mine,” murmured Hercules, bending to kiss him. He was taken with long, slow strokes
and when the kiss ended Hercules spoke again. “Yours.”
“Yes. Love you. My Hercules.” He arched, body rippling around Hercules’ cock.
Hercules grunted, moving faster, harder, his lover taking him. He met each thrust, body
moving furiously, moaning and purring and aching.
Harder and harder, faster, Hercules kept moving, began to grunt, loved him.
“Yours!” He bowed his spine, ass riding that hot prick, cock slapping his belly.
One of Hercules’ hands wrapped around his prick, pumping quickly as his mouth was
taken in a fierce kiss.
His orgasm slammed through him, hot and sweet and perfect, come splashing on his
belly.
“Yes!”
Hercules pushed into him several more times, calling out his name as heat filled him.
Mal nodded, licking Hercules’ shoulder. Yes.
Hercules slid out of him and settled next to him, keeping him close. He pressed closer
still, relaxing, holding on.
“Can Paul keep his mouth shut?” Hercules asked him.
“Anything Paul knows, Peter will know.”
“Then you get it done elsewhere. I’ll find a safe place.”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He’d wanted Hercules to be with him, but no one always got exactly what they wanted.
“There is something you want to say to me?”
He met Hercules’ eyes, finding his center. “Thank you, Sir.”
“For what?”
His eyebrows lowered, “For offering me your mark.”
Hercules chuckled. “You asked for it, Malachi.”
He nodded. “I did.”
“I offer you only what I have always offered you, Malachi. Myself.”
“Come with me to get the mark, whatever you choose?”
Hercules’ stroked his cheek and then grinned, eyes wicked. “If I come with you, I will
prepare you first.”
He felt his cheeks heat, felt his cock throb as he nodded. “Y … yes, Sir.”
Teasing, beautiful bastard.
“I’ll arrange it.”
He dared a quick grin. “Can I have the time off work?”
Hercules laughed. “Oh, I think I can arrange it for a time when you aren’t scheduled to
work.”
Mal chuckled, licking the corner of Hercules’ mouth. “Oh, now. I hear my boss is an
amazing hard-ass, but surely he can be convinced …”
“He’s already been convinced of a great deal …”
Malachi laughed, hooking one leg over Hercules and hugging. “Yes, you big hard-ass.”
“Yes, very hard.” Hercules chuckled, arms holding him. “And don’t you forget it.”
“Not a chance, boss. Not a chance.”
Chapter Five
In the end Hercules had a tattoo artist flown in from off-planet.
The very best anywhere, given an all-expenses-paid vacation to the third moon colony,
with a detour via the Glove.
In and out and quiet.
He was a very private man and that Malachi was his was nobody’s business but their
own.
Besides, he needed Malachi to run things, and only Malachi’s tough image kept everyone
in line.
Still, Malachi wanted his mark, and he had to admit, the idea appealed to him a great
deal.
Knowing it was there would be … titillating. Exciting. Perfect.
He looked at the time. Malachi should arrive soon with the tattoo artist. Not that he was
checking.
It didn’t take long before the man walked in beside Malachi, tall and thin and bald, eyes
sharp. Malachi was quiet, firm, professional, no sign of concern, barring the barest hint of flush
in the smooth cheeks.
He introduced himself and was very pleased to find the man, one John Rizon, to be
extremely professional.
He got a thank you for the vacation and ‘where do I set up’.
He brought them into one of the playrooms, one that was more for show than anything
else. But it had a pommel horse Malachi could lie over to expose himself to John’s ink guns.
John started setting up his material. “What do you want and where? No need to get out
any colors I won’t be using.”
Malachi arched one eyebrow, looking over at him. It was odd, having Malachi in this
position – it was obvious his lover wasn’t sure what to do, how to act.
“I’ve a drawing. It’s purple, black and white. On his perineum.”
John nodded, all business, pulling out a bottle of white and black and a number of violets.
“Is he shaved? And he’ll need to be still and spread, can he do that?”
“For as long as it takes.” There was pride in his voice. “Get ready, Malachi.”
“Yes, sir.” Malachi moved to one side, carefully stripping and folding his clothes, breath
already slowing and settling.
He ran his hand along Malachi’s back and then shifted Malachi’s legs somewhat,
exposing him thoroughly.
“I want the tip of the dragon’s tail to disappear into his hole. Can you do that?”
John looked at the design, then at Malachi’s body. “Yes. A couple of things, though. One,
he’ll need to be shaved as close as possible. Two, he’ll need to be well-cleaned – at least the hole
and right inside, and I’ll suggest an enema before any serious ass play for at least two weeks.
Three, if you fuck him, oil, oil, oil, or you’ll ruin my work.”
Malachi’s skin was blazing under his hand.
“I’ll shave him. Can I fuck his ass as soon as you’re done?”
John nodded. “It’ll burn some. Use lots of oil and make sure he’s cleaned after. The tat’ll
be fine. You want a ring too, as a part of the design? Or just the ink?”
“Can you give us a moment, please?”
John shrugged. “Sure. Holler when he’s ready to ink, I’m going to find some water.”
“There’s a fridge in the front room. Take what you need.”
Once John had gone he went around to where Malachi’s head was, crouching next to his
lover.
He pulled a ring out of his pocket. He’d been carrying it for months, since just before
Kestrel had admitted to knowing about him and Malachi.
“You will never wear my collar. I cannot claim you in public. But soon you will wear my
mark and if you want, my ring.”
He held the small black gold ring out to Malachi. There was a purple stone on it,
carefully worked smooth.
“It’s beautiful.” He’d seen the flash of pain in Malachi’s eyes, immediately and carefully
hidden and tucked away. “I will wear whatever you offer me, Hercules, with pride.”
He pushed Malachi’s hair from his face, fingers gentle over his lover’s face. “You want
me to claim you in public, Malachi? I can have your resignation drawn up in minutes and I will
claim you the moment it is filed. The choice is yours.”
He leaned their foreheads together. “You would never top another again. You will move
to my quarters. Stay at my side. Be mine and everyone – everyone – would know that you were
mine.”
Those icy eyes went wide, twitching back and forth, looking into his eyes with a visible
disbelief. Malachi’s breath stopped. Of all the things to crack his ultimately controlled lover …
He leaned forward and kissed Malachi. “Don’t answer now. Your life will change
completely if you resign. Let John do the tattoo and put in my ring. And then I will fuck you.
And then you will go to your rooms and in the morning you will tell me your decision.”
Malachi took a deep breath, visibly centering himself, and nodded. “Yes, sir. I … I love
you. I am proud to wear your mark.”
He kissed Malachi again. “You’d better be, you wanted it.”
Then he moved to find a razor.
He could hear Malachi’s soft laughter following him.
He found the old strap razor in a cupboard and filled a bowl with water, found the cream.
Then he found a stool and settled behind his lover.
“I’m going to shave you now.”
“Yes, sir.” Malachi relaxed for him, trusting him completely, easily.
It was as intimate as anything they’d done together, Malachi spread out before him,
allowing him to scrape the so-sensitive skin with a razor. He leaned in close so he could smell
Malachi, enjoying the rich, male scent.
Once the shaving was finished, he used a soft cloth to wash around and just inside
Malachi’s hole.
Malachi wasn’t hard, not yet, but that long cock was beginning to fill, the newly shaved
skin pink and vulnerable.
He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the pink skin. “Soon you will wear my mark.”
Then he stood and went to the door, calling John back in.
John looked at Malachi’s skin and then pulled over the stool, snapping on some
protective gloves. “This is going to burn, when I get started. You don’t want to bind him?”
“No, I don’t.” He didn’t need to bind Malachi, his lover would stay still.
John chuckled and started applying the design to Malachi’s body. “Okay, it’s his ass. Did
you make a decision on the piercing?”
“Yes.” He handed over the small ring with its jewel. “How long will it take?”
“Altogether? Half a chrono for the ink, just a bit for the piercing. Oh, got a question. You
have an opposition to me putting a finger inside him to stretch the hole for the tail? If you do,
you can do it, I just need to know.”
“I will do it.” As if he would let anyone else touch his Malachi. It was hard enough to let
this man see Malachi spread and vulnerable.
He felt Malachi’s tension fade, responding immediately to his possession.
“Cool. Come check the positioning – this is where you want it?”
“Yes, that’s perfect.”
He placed a hand on one of Malachi’s butt cheeks, resting ever so slightly against it.
“You don’t mind if I watch?”
“Nope. Just don’t jiggle him.” John bent, looked at Malachi. “Look, if you’re going to
sneeze? Warn me.”
The ink gun started up and John stretched Malachi’s skin. “Here we go. Remember to
breathe.”
The sound of the gun was soft, intense, like a stinging bug.
Malachi never even tensed.
It made him hard, how controlled his lover was.
And it made him proud, having someone see how amazing Malachi’s control was. He
supposed if Malachi chose to resign, he could get used to it.
The dragon came into being fairly quickly, Malachi’s skin flushing dark with blood as his
mark was made real.
It was absolutely beautiful, more so for being on Malachi’s skin.
“Okay, we’re doing the tough part. No moving, man, just breathe and I’ll be fast.” John
motioned to him. “Hold him open for me and keep him still.”
He put his finger in his mouth and sucked loudly enough for Malachi to hear and then
pushed it in, opening Malachi, stretching the tight ring so that the tail could be inked over it.
“Continue to remain motionless, Malachi.”
“Yes, sir.” Malachi sounded peaceful, at ease, but he could hear the edge of stress.
It took John only a few minutes to finish, then slide some nu-skin on the inked skin.
“Okay, now the ring. Give me a minute to change gloves and such and we’ll be done.”
“Excellent.”
While John was changing gloves, he let his finger slide away and pressed gently against
the nu-skin. “He’ll be done in a moment, Malachi. And then I’ll make my claim.”
“Yes, sir.” The words were a soft whisper.
Then John was back, needle in hand. “Okay. Watch it for infection. Clean it twice a day.
It should heal with the nu-skin in two weeks. Deep breath, you, and let it out when I say.”
Then – clamp-pierce-ring. It was done and John was cleaning up.
He stroked the nu-skin again. “I’ll be back in a moment, Malachi.”
Then he escorted John to the elevator. “Kestrel will meet you on the second floor and will
order your aircar for you.”
He shook John’s hand and handed over the tickets and credchips. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. He’s got nerves of steel. I usually see them at least tense. Impressive. You
ever decide to share, contact me.” With that, the tall man was gone.
His back went up, nostrils flaring. As if he’d ever share. The nerve.
He flipped open his commlink. “Kestrel.”
“Yes, sir?”
“There’s a John Rizon on his way down. He has a ticket for the Third Moon pleasure
cruise. See to it that he gets on his flight.”
He flipped the communit closed and went back into the playroom, grabbing a bottle of oil
on his way.
Malachi was still and quiet, mark so dark and fine and his. His. Forever.
He purred and set the oil on the pommel horse next to Malachi and then slid his hands
over Malachi’s ass. He stretched Malachi’s ass cheeks apart, purring as the tip of the dragon’s
tail was revealed, a quarter inch in.
He wanted to trace it with his tongue, but knew that would have to wait.
“It looks good, Malachi.”
“Thank you, sir.” Malachi moaned the words, hole winking at him.
“I’m going to fuck you now. Make it official.”
He opened the bottle of oil and dripped it along Malachi’s crease, watching as it slipped
down, pooling a moment along the wrinkled skin and then sliding down to cover the nu-skin
over the tattoo.
The skin was smooth, hot, almost burning his hand. The ring was throbbing, pulsing with
Malachi’s heartbeat.
He coated his fingers in oil and pushed three into Malachi.
Malachi groaned, body clenching his fingers, then shuddering.
He found Malachi’s gland and pushed his fingertips against it again and again.
Every press got him another shiver, another full-body shake.
He worked his pants off with his free hand, cock leaping out, ready, dripping with his
need for Malachi.
He heard Malachi inhale, felt the tremors that rocked the body that needed him, too.
He pulled his fingers out of Malachi and oiled up his prick, placing the head at Malachi’s
hole. “What do you want, Malachi?”
“You. Always. You, Hercules.”
“Yes.”
He pushed in slowly, knowing his prick was dragging across the end of the dragon’s tail,
knowing that when he was fully seated his balls would be pressed against the dragon and the new
ring embedded in Malachi’s skin.
“Love …” Oh, Malachi was burning, fiery against him, muscles gripping him and pulling
him deeper.
Groaning, he sank all the way in, hands hard on Malachi’s hips. “Malachi.”
“Yes.” The tattoo burned into him, the ring right there against him.
“Mine.” The word was torn from his throat in a needy, possessive growl and he began to
fuck his lover, pulling out only to slam back in again, the ring hitting his balls each time they
smacked back against Malachi’s tattoo.
“Yes. Yours. Yours.” Malachi was moaning, body rippling for him. “Love!”
“Mine. Yes.” He pounded in, hand sliding around to pump Malachi’s dripping cock.
It took just that and Malachi was coming, screaming, seed pouring over his hand.
Malachi’s hot ass squeezed him tight, milked his own orgasm from him and he came with
Malachi’s name on his lips.
Malachi slumped on the horse, breathing hard, sheened with sweat.
He pulled out, licking a line down Malachi’s spine. “Beautiful. Mine.”
“Yours.” Malachi nodded.
He went to the cupboard and got the first aid kit, returning to clean Malachi up and
disinfect the area.
“Time to go to your rooms, Malachi. You have a big decision to make.”
Malachi stood, swaying, blinking slowly. “Please, Hercules. A kiss?”
He wrapped his hand around the back of Malachi’s head and brought their mouths
together. The kiss was long and deep, claiming his ownership all over again.
Malachi opened, let him in, lips swollen and full when he pulled away. “I’ll see you in
the morning, sir.”
“Yes, love. With your answer.”
“Yes.” Malachi gathered his clothes, offered him a smile and left.
He tilted his head, wondering whether or not he would need a new trainer tomorrow.
Wondering which answer he was hoping for.
* * * * *
Dawn came and he was still sitting.
Still meditating.
Still thinking.
Mal had everything any man could want – the perfect job, the perfect lover, the perfect
world. He could dominate anyone he wished and, when he could, submit to the strongest will
he’d ever known. He had no reason to leave it behind to live with Hercules, to publicly submit.
None except for the pang in his soul when Hercules said it would never happen.
He’d never expected the pain.
He’d never expected the offer.
More than that? He’d never expected the conflict inside himself.
The biggest conflict? The club. Over fifteen years he’d been here, building a fine stable
of trainers, of subs. He didn’t want to desert them for his own selfishness, for his own wants.
Still. To be Hercules’? Every minute of every day?
Could he be submissive like that?
Would Hercules drop him if it wasn’t easy?
What would he do during the day?
Would he ever get another chance?
If Hercules broke it off with him, could he work anywhere else?
Could he turn down the one thing he wanted most because he was scared it wouldn’t
work out?
Most importantly, what did Hercules want?
Would Hercules even have offered if he hadn’t wanted it?
Was he worth more to Hercules as a trainer?
Oh, hell, he knew the answer to that. He was the best trainer on the system. His
reputation was stellar, brought the best clients, the best subs. As a sub? Hercules already had
him, anytime, anywhere.
If he said yes, Hercules would gain nothing, the club would gain nothing.
Malachi stood and went to take his shower, putting his leathers on the bed. Before he got
in, he sent Hercules an encrypted note. “I am strong enough to do the right thing for you and for
the Glove. I am not strong enough to trust that I can look into your eyes and give away my most
precious dream. I love you. M.”
Then he washed himself thoroughly and went to his shift.
He had work to do.
Chapter Six
Hercules closed the message and hit the delete button.
He had it memorized; there was no reason to read it again.
He couldn’t decide if he was pleased with Malachi or annoyed.
Malachi had rejected him and yet … it had been done for him and the club.
It was … confusing.
Hercules didn’t do confusing.
He hit the button for Malachi on his commlink.
“Yes, Sir?”
“I want you up here the minute your shift ends.”
He closed the link and headed into the playroom at the center of his suite. Here he was
not confused.
One minute past five, Malachi opened the door and walked in, icy eyes still and silent.
“Bend over – I need to check your tattoo.”
Malachi loosened his pants and bent, the skin covered by a light gauze. “I didn’t want the
leather to mar it.”
“Prudent.”
He removed the gauze and cleaned the area, making sure to clean the section that
disappeared into Mal’s anus thoroughly. The nu-skin seemed to be protecting the tattoo quite
well.
“I’m going to whip you this evening.”
“Yes, sir.” Malachi nodded, the little ring jerking as his muscles twitched involuntarily.
He stroked a hand across the tattoo and then backed away, stripping off his clothes. “Get
out the restraints.”
Malachi nodded and moved across the room, so sensual, so controlled, pulling out the
heavy leather wrist and ankle cuffs he preferred.
He licked his lips as he watched, cock growing stiff.
Taking a deep breath he let everything go and focused on the energy in the room, on the
long, hard body he was about to beat.
Malachi fastened the restraints onto both ankles, each wrist, then faced him.
He took one of Malachi’s hands and fastened the restraint to the chains that hung from
the ceiling in one corner of the room. Sliding his hand back down along Malachi’s arm, across
his chest and along his other arm, Hercules then fastened Malachi’s other wrist, stretching his
lover out.
Hercules did Malachi’s feet next.
Malachi’s breath came slow, steady, his lover centering himself, readying himself to
accept Hercules’ will.
This was what it came down to again and again. Two men and will and pain and pleasure.
He stroked Malachi’s belly, briefly touched the hard cock and then walked slowly to the
cupboard, selecting a whip comprised of thick leather strips.
The strips would thud against his lover, turn the smooth skin red and dark and bruised,
draw the tiniest drops of blood around the edges. Mark Malachi visibly as his.
Not that anyone would see these marks anymore than they would see the dragon tattoo.
Still. He would know they were there. As would Malachi. If he didn’t treat them, Malachi would
feel them for days.
Malachi slowly rolled his shoulders, his head, waiting for him, waiting for the whip.
“I want you to stay quiet as long as you can, but once you make a sound I want to hear it
all, understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Malachi nodded.
“Very good.”
Without further conversation, he let his whip fly, the dull thuds of the leather straps
falling on flesh sending goosebumps along his arms.
It didn’t take long before Malachi’s head fell forward, silent sobs moving the muscled
shoulders.
The welts on Malachi’s back were beautiful, some going dark immediately, spots of
blood showing where the top edges of the leather hit.
Malachi leaned into his bonds, a soft groan splitting the air.
Yes.
He redoubled his efforts, laying the whip across Malachi’s back again and again. The
sounds came faster, louder, rolling broken and torn from Malachi’s throat. He kept whipping
until his arm was tired and sore, Malachi’s noises coming constantly.
Malachi finally slumped forward, hanging from the cuffs, chest heaving in huge sobs.
He let the whip fly one more time, the leather licking at Malachi’s ass and then he set the
whip aside and began to undo Malachi’s restraints.
Malachi’s cheeks were wet, eyes closed and shadowed, but his lover found his feet, stood
still and straight for him.
He undid the wrist restraints, standing in front of Malachi, just in case.
He nuzzled Malachi’s cheeks, licked the tears away. Those were his.
Malachi moaned softly, muscles beginning to tremble. “Yours.”
“Yes, Malachi, mine. Can you make it to my bed?”
Malachi nodded. “Yes, sir. I can.”
“Come with me then, I would hold you until your duties call you again.”
He got one more nod, then Malachi followed him, one foot placed carefully before the
other.
The sheets were new silk, soft and cool, and would feel good if Malachi should brush his
back against them.
At his nod, Malachi settled in on his side, legs drawn up slightly.
He lay down facing his lover. “You are still mine, Malachi. You will always be mine.”
Malachi nodded. “I know.”
“And now you bear my mark and my ring as physical proof.”
He stroked Malachi’s cheek. “My chosen, my lover, mine.”
Tear-filled eyes met his, red and exhausted. “Yes. Thank you.”
He kissed Malachi. “Sleep now. Tomorrow you will feel my marks on your back, no
matter how light the clothes you wear. Every time you move you will feel the welts and the new
skin where the leather cut you. Tomorrow you will not be able to escape the knowledge that you
are mine, not for a moment.”
“I love you, Hercules.” The words were quiet, sure, then Malachi’s eyes closed,
shuttering the icy blue away.
“And I love you, my own.”
He let his own eyes close, let sleep have him, still not entirely sure whether to be pleased
or put out at Malachi’s decision.
* * * * *
He was lounging on one of the sofas in one of the employees’ lounges, throwing green
candies into Kestrel’s mouth, head in Trip’s lap, Ghost chuckling in the shadows playing some
vidgame.
Jim was being a hell of a sport, ducking every time he missed Kestrel’s lips, all of them
laughing and lazing and enjoying themselves.
“It must be a slow night.” The dry voice was unmistakable, their fearless ruler.
Kestrel’s eyes went wide and everyone stiffened. Mal sat up, nodding. “Dead and lucky.
We’ve all got the evening off. Did you need something, Boss?”
“It looks like you’re all having fun. I’ll leave you to it.” Hercules looked at him, but he
couldn’t read the violet eyes. “I’ll see you in my suite before the night’s out.”
Hercules actually gave them all a little smile before leaving.
Kestrel met his eyes, one eyebrow lifting, and he shrugged, tossing another candy over. If
he left now, it would look suspect. If he waited too long, Hercules would be displeased.
Jim hugged Kestrel. “Man, I don’t remember him being that scary when he hired me.”
Trip chuckled. “It can’t be easy owning the hottest BDSM club. Hell, he built it up from
the ground. He has to remain aloof from everyone.”
Ghost looked over with a frown. “Aloof? Trip?”
Mal arched an eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut.
Trip shrugged. “There’s an expression that’s been around as long as anyone knows. ‘It’s
lonely at the top’. There’s any number of reasons the top dog walks alone.”
“But …”
Mal sat up and gave Ghost a look, Kestrel beginning to flutter.
“Oh. Okay, I get it.” Ghost turned away, turned back to the game.
Trip looked from Ghost to him, then held up his hands. “I don’t think I even want to
know.”
Poor Jim was just looking confused.
Mal sighed and shook his head. He shouldn’t even try. “I’m going up to see what the big
boss wants. You guys have a good evening.”
Kestrel stood and gave him a hug, whispering, “You don’t have to. Stay. Play. You
haven’t in so long.”
He squeezed Kes and then backed away. He did have to. He wanted to. “I’ll see you all
tomorrow.”
Then he was off to the lifts, heading for the 28th floor.
Hercules was in his lounge, a glass of brandy in his hand. The coffee table held the bottle
and another glass along with a plate of bite-sized sweets.
“You wanted to see me, Sir?” He let himself admire his lover, his Dom, his … well, not
his friend. Hercules and he had never been friends. But his Hercules.
“Sit. Share a drink with me.” Hercules smiled at him. “Tell me how my club is doing and
then tell me how my Malachi is doing.”
He smiled back, freshening Hercules’ drink before pouring his own and sitting. “The club
is doing well, Sir. Things are smooth. Jax is very happy upstairs. The doc is settled in. Even the
loony twins are settling.”
One of Hercules’ eyebrows went up. “How did you manage that?”
“I hired an amazing top to run the massage center. It took them a while, but Bowie got
them in hand.”
Hercules laughed softly. “You have an amazing talent at bringing dom/sub pairs together.
You and that fluttering bird of yours.”
He grinned. “Kestrel is so in love that he sees romance everywhere.”
“Who’s he tried to pair you up with?” Hercules asked.
Mal blinked and felt his cheeks heat. Still, he didn’t lie. “A couple of the workerbees, one
top that used to work with Ric. Jim’s brother.”
“And?”
He frowned, tilted his head. “I’m not sure what you’re asking, Sir. That’s all.”
“What did you think of them?”
“The workerbees are better used elsewhere, Jim’s brother is in need of a romantic partner
and Greg was very well-trained, we could use him on the staff.” What did he think? That would
assume he thought of anyone but Hercules.
His lover leaned forward and picked up a small pastry, holding it out to him. “Eat up, I
have need of you.”
He took the pastry and ate, eyes closing at the flavor. “It’s luscious. Thank you.”
“Mmm. So are you.” Hercules’ voice was husky, wanton.
He moaned softly, cock filling, heat rushing through him, melting him.
He heard the sound of Hercules’ trousers opening. “I need you, Malachi.”
“Anything, Hercules.” He slid onto the floor, kneeling before his lover. Needing.
“I’ve needed you all day,” murmured Hercules, fingers sliding on his cheek.
“I would have come. Anytime.” He nuzzled into the touch, lips parting with pleasure. He
ached for this touch.
“I know. It’s a matter of control, yes? I’ve waited all day for your mouth – it will feel so
much better than if I’d given in.”
He chuckled and leaned in, tongue sliding over the tip of Hercules’ cock, gathering the
bitter salt.
Hercules purred, leaning back and spreading his legs further.
Mal relaxed, slowly taking Hercules in, worshipping the thick heat with his tongue.
“Oh, it was worth the wait, Malachi. I knew you would be.”
Hercules made him ache, made him need and he moaned, the sound low and muffled.
One hand cupped the velvet-soft balls, rolling them slowly.
Hercules purred, one hands sliding through his hair. “Make me fly, Malachi.”
He lost himself in the act of tasting and touching, the act more about loving than control
as he made Hercules need.
Hercules moaned and purred for him, hands sliding through his hair and over his skin,
hips moving restlessly.
Hercules’ cock was buried deep in his throat, his nose rubbing those so-soft purple curls
as he hummed, happy and loved and home with his lover.
“More,” murmured Hercules, the word not an order but a plea, his lover’s hips moving,
pushing into his mouth.
His fingers slid back and tapped Hercules’ gland from the outside, suction growing fierce
and desperate, swallowing hard.
“Malachi!” His name was shouted, Hercules’ prick throbbing in his mouth, seed pouring
down his throat.
He took every drop, tongue and lips cleaning Hercules, drawing out the pleasure.
When he was done, Hercules drew him up, bringing their lips together. The kiss was slow
and deep, Hercules’ body welcoming beneath his.
He hummed into the kiss, aroused and happy, warm all through.
Hercules’ hands slid down his body, fingers tugging his shirt out of his pants, working it
up.
He lifted up a little, making it easier for Hercules to get to skin.
Hercules’ nails slid along his skin, as the shirt was pulled off.
His muscles rippled and he was so close Hercules must have felt it, felt the reaction that
simple action drew from him.
Hercules purred, smiling knowingly up at him. “You would come if I commanded it,
wouldn’t you.”
“I always try to obey your will, Hercules. In all things.”
“I know. You are the best I’ve ever had.”
Leaning forward, eyes still on his, Hercules licked at the tip of his left nipple.
He moaned softly, flesh drawing up to meet the touch, cock throbbing in his pants.
Another lick and then Hercules moved to the other nipple, wrapping hot lips around it
and pulling.
The word “come” was whispered against his skin.
His body responded immediately, eagerly, his focus complete.
Hercules continued sucking on his nipple as he came, pulling out aftershocks and making
his whole body throb in time.
He gasped, cock not even going soft, moving with the suction, with the heat.
Hercules’ fingers found his waistband and pushed past it, cupping his ass, digging into
his skin.
Thighs parting, he pushed back into the touch. “Yours.”
Heat flared in Hercules’ eyes and he slowly sat back. “Yes. Mine. All mine.”
Hercules purred again and sat back, looking at him from heavy-lidded eyes. “Strip us
both.”
He nodded and began, slowly removing his own clothes first so that Hercules could see
him, watch him. Then he set to the delicious business of baring skin, touching and kissing as he
went, the ritual seductive and familiar. It brought them together, brought their breath in sync,
joined them in a way little else did.
He ended kneeling before Hercules, lips on one thin ankle. “I love you.”
Hercules’ hand was gentle in his hair. “I know.” One finger beneath his chin turned his
face up. “I love you, Malachi.”
He met Hercules’ eyes and nodded.
Purring again, Hercules bent and brought their mouths together.
The flavor of Hercules was rich and male, strong and sure and he opened for it easily,
eagerly.
Hercules slid out of his chair, hands on his head, tilting him to deepen the kiss as they
pressed together from the knees up.
Oh. Yes. Love. Yours. The words flashed through his head as he arched, in love with the
touch of their bodies.
Hercules’ purr was fed into his mouth, strong hands pulling them closer together.
He whimpered, the kiss going deeper, his soul soaring.
Hercules’ strong hands cupped his ass and moved him, sliding their cocks together in a
rhythm as old as time.
His hands explored and held, loving the lines and slides of Hercules’ body as they made
love.
Their tongues danced together, Hercules leading them both to pleasure, insistent and
open.
They laughed together, eyes fastened and this was why – this connection, this happiness –
this was why he loved.
Hercules pushed him back until they were on the floor, his lover’s body moving over his.
He arched, hands held way up over his head for a moment as his muscles stretched.
Purring, Hercules slid warm hands down along his sides, fingers wrapping around his
hips.
He let his legs fall open, his balls falling down, jostling Hercules’ ring embedded in his
flesh.
Hercules’ hand slid down between his legs, hefting his sac and then moving back to feel
the ring, to tug it.
“Oh …” He felt that down deep, the tugging bringing him up on his elbows, gasping.
“You like that.” It wasn’t a question, just a fact, purred against the skin of his neck.
“Yes. I can feel it in the pit of my belly.”
“And here,” murmured Hercules, kissing his balls and then the tip of his cock, tugging
again.
“Yes!” His legs parted further, hips jerking.
“And here.”
Hercules rose up and kissed his forehead, twisting the ring.
“Yes. Yours. Hercules. Yours.” He cried out, inhaling the scent of them together,
needing.
“Yes.”
Hercules’ fingers slid past the ring, following the tail of the dragon into his body.
He bore down, body squeezing that finger, holding it inside.
“Yes,” repeated Hercules, finger pushing in deeper, another demanding entrance beside
it.
His head fell back, hips rocking, riding the touch. He would give this to no one else,
expose his hunger, his joy to no other.
Hercules’ mouth slid over his neck and traced his collarbones, licking and nibbling at his
skin as those finger stretched him open.
He was flying, soaring, calling out in pure pleasure.
More purrs slid against his skin as Hercules’ fingers disappeared, the heat of Hercules’
hard cock pressing against him.
“Yes …” He stretched, body relaxed and wanton and needing.
Hercules filled him slowly, violet eyes gazing down at him.
Love.
He took a deep breath, breathing them in.
Hercules buried himself deep and stayed there, just watching him, held within his body.
Time stretched and he was caught, laid bare and open before his Hercules, his lover.
Hercules purred and started to move.
“Love you …” His fingers pushed into Hercules’ hair, petting, drawing their mouths
together.
The kiss was soft, gentle while Hercules’ cock pushed into him hard and fast, wild.
The dichotomy kept him off balance, kept him spinning, following Hercules’ will.
One of Hercules’ hands slid around his cock, thumb sliding across the tip.
He cried out into Hercules’ lips, seed spraying, body squeezing that hard cock.
Hercules purred, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as heat filled him.
They relaxed together in a tangle of legs and arms, breath still in concert.
“You’ll stay the night,” Hercules told him.
“Yes, Hercules.” He hummed, cheek brushing Hercules’ shoulder.
“Yes.”
Hercules pet him. “Yes.”
He let himself luxuriate in the touches, the sensation, the peace. “Yes.”
In time, Hercules slid away from him and stood, hand held out to him to lead him into
Hercules’ bedroom.
Mal went willingly, happily, relaxed and at peace.
Chapter Seven
Hercules dealt with all the tiny, stupid little details that went into owning and running the
club. He had to file forms and updates with the city, the planet, security. It was long and boring
and he was extremely cranky by the time he was done – his shoulders ached, his eyes were dry
and he’d had nothing but the communit and the forms as his companions all day long.
He sent a message to Mal, asking the man to join him in the main dining room when he
was finished his day and then headed down there himself.
He could use a drink.
The lift brought him down to the main floor, and he stepped out, looking around. Not too
busy yet, but the place was hardly empty, club members and guests alike enjoying the dining
room, the dance floor.
He made his way to the bar, managed to find a smile for Jim and asked for a purple
martini.
Sipping at his drink, he enjoyed the sharp, bright flavors, and watched his club buzz with
activity.
Kestrel fluttered over. “Boss? Is everything all right? Is something wrong? Can I help?”
His right eyebrow rose. “Nothing is wrong.”
“Oh. Okay. Fine. Good. Excellent.” Goodness, Kes was … maddening.
“And do you have any problems, Kestrel? Anything to report?” He had a hard time
relating to the flighty man. He had a hard time relating to most people.
“Of course not. All’s well as always.” Those bright eyes landed on Jim, warming and
settling immediately.
Interesting.
“I trust you can find a table for Malachi and myself for dinner. Perhaps you and your
bartender would join us.” His other eyebrow went up; he was surprised at himself.
“I … Of course. Of course, I’ll find us a table. Of course. Jim-love?”
“Yes, pretty bird?” Jim gave Kestrel a besotted smile.
“Can you find someone to cover here? Come have supper with us?”
“Us?” Jim looked from Kestrel to him, and then back again. “Oh. Um … sure.”
Hercules bit back his smile. He didn’t mind being intimidating. He didn’t mind it at all.
“Excellent. Have you contacted Mal? Should I?”
“He did, Kes. Breathe. You’re okay.” Mal’s hand landed on Kestrel’s shoulder, solid and
strong.
Hercules let his eyes linger over Mal’s form, heat sliding through him. “I’ve asked
Kestrel and Jim to join us.”
“Perfect.” Mal kissed Kestrel’s cheek, eyes on him. “How’s it going, Boss?”
“I’ve had a terrible day, stuck in my office filing out a few thousand reports.”
His Malachi was a beautiful man, those eyes simply delightful, fascinating. “Sucks to be
the big dog.” Oh, Malachi was in a fine mood.
“Sometimes. But it does have its perks.”
“Indeed. I don’t suppose it will get us the berry tarts that Moffat insists he’s out of?”
“Order them for dessert and see.” He took another sip of his drink, meeting Malachi’s
eyes over the top of his glass.
The icy eyes stared him down, daring him, pushing him like no one else would dare. He
stared back, planning a whipping when dinner was over.
Kestrel started fluttering again, bouncing a little. “Are we all ready? Happy? Mal?”
“We’re fine, Kes. Breathe. Are you going to be able to do this?” Mal didn’t look at Kes,
still stared at him.
“I promise not to bite, Kestrel.” The fluttering annoyed him, but the man was Malachi’s
best friend, he figured there had to be some substance to him. Not to mention that Kestrel
managed to use that fluttering to his advantage. A wave of crankiness went through him – it was
past time to eat. “Shall we go sit?”
Jim came from behind the bar and they headed toward their table. On the way, both
Malachi and Kestrel were stopped a dozen times each, both of them dealing with petty problems
easily. No wonder they hid in the staff rooms on their time off.
They were seated and he glared at several more workers who headed toward them. He
didn’t want to be disturbed every few minutes. Malachi chuckled softly, settling next to him.
Kestrel lit in Jim’s lap, settling easily.
It felt strange, sitting in public with his secret lover. Even if no one knew Malachi was
his; the assumption would of course be that the boss was having dinner with his head staff.
Malachi never touched him, never was even the slightest bit suggestive, but the energy between
them just blazed.
It was rather exciting.
“So Jim, I understand you’re not a fan of what we do here.”
Kestrel’s lover opened his mouth. “Um … I …”
“He doesn’t need to play, do you, Jim-love?” Kestrel actually cuddled. It was strangely
adorable.
“No, I have everything I need right here. I don’t need fancy games or …” Jim shut his
mouth and hugged Kestrel.
“Please, don’t hesitate to speak on my account.” He was curious or he wouldn’t have
asked in the first place.
Jim shrugged. “I have no desire to hurt Kes.”
One of his eyebrows rose and he looked over at Malachi.
Malachi smiled. “Don’t worry, Jim. Kes bruises beautifully, but he never learned to crave
it.”
Jim’s hands tightened around Kestrel. “Nobody hurts him.” Well, he might not be a Dom
or sub, but Jim certainly had a possessive streak Hercules recognized well enough.
“No, Jim, and if someone tries, you and I can take care of it, yes?” Malachi had the same
tone, the same commitment.
“He’s safe here. That’s the true point of this club, yes?”
“Yes, sir.” Jim nodded.
“No one wants to hurt me.” Kestrel laughed, rainbow colored hair tossing. “Now, feed
me. I’m starving!”
Hercules chuckled. There was a core of strength in Kestrel. He knew that, but sometimes
he needed to be reminded.
He waved a hand at one of the waiters, the young man scurrying over. “Tell Moffat the
boss and his party are ready to eat. We’ll leave ourselves in his hands. Except for dessert. We
want the berry tarts.”
Malachi grinned. “This should be interesting. I’ve been trying to score one of those tarts
for four days.”
“You should talk to that pretty little boy with the curly red hair. He’s in good with the
kitchen.” Kestrel winked, laughed. “And he’s cute and sweet.”
Hercules ground his teeth together. Malachi would do no such thing. “There will be tarts
or there will be a new chef in the kitchen.”
Malachi laughed, leaned back and sipped his wine. “That little redhead isn’t my type,
Kes. Besides, Vesper was giving him an eye.”
“The two of you insist on pairing everyone in the club up – I will have to make cupid
outfits for you both.” He chuckled at the thought.
Jim’s lips twitched.
“Kes would look good with wings.”
Kestrel swatted at Malachi. “I haven’t managed to find the right man for you.”
Hercules was going to have the flighty man flayed.
Malachi shook his head. “What if there isn’t one for you to find, Kes? You’ll just have to
trust my judgment.”
“Yes, Kestrel. Trust his judgment.”
Their appetizers arrived just then, and it was probably just as well. There were tiny tarts
full of seafood, proscuitto wrapped melon, and steak lollipops. It smelled divine.
They all settled in to eat, the tension easing completely. They were a lively, charming
trio – Malachi constantly surprised him with the dry wit, the clever jokes and Kestrel and Jim
kept the conversations going flawlessly, including him.
It was … nice.
The food was impeccable and delicious, and when they were done with the main dishes,
he waited to see if he was going to need a new chef, or if his Malachi owed him.
The berry tarts came out – Kestrel bounced and Malachi just smiled, arched one eyebrow.
“Must be good to be the boss.”
He gave Malachi an almost imperceptible nod. “It is.”
“Smell that.” Malachi moaned as Kestrel popped a berry into that hungry mouth.
Hercules watched, licking his lips almost unconsciously, and crossing his right leg over his left.
Jim grabbed one of the tarts, no fuss at all, just eating, looking happy.
Mal looked … ecstatic. How many things didn’t he know about his Malachi? He would
certainly remember this one – Moffet would make him more of them.
He took a small bite of his own. It was good. Very good. He pushed his plate next to
Malachi’s.
Icy blue eyes met his, Malachi’s head tilting. “You don’t like it?”
He shrugged. “It’s a tart.” And Malachi loved them.
That smile he received was sudden, blinding, surprisingly honest. Kestrel gasped, staring
at Mal for a moment before looking away. He wanted to taste that smile. He wanted to lean in
and take Malachi’s mouth, bites of the tart shared between them.
He wracked his brain for an excuse that would require them both to leave. Right now.
Malachi picked up a berry, licked the glaze off of it with a soft moan. He bit back his
own moan, his prick completely hard.
“I … Jim-love. Are you almost finished? I’d love to go dancing …” He would have to
watch Kestrel, the man saw so much.
“Sure, pretty bird, whatever you want.” Jim on the other hand, only had eyes for Kestrel.
“Thank you both for joining Malachi and I. We’ll … we’ll have to do it again sometime.”
“Yes. Of course. I’d love to. Mal, comm me? We’ll have to have a long chat.”
“Go dance, Kes. I’ll see you.” Malachi’s lips were tight, that control slammed down and
hiding everything.
Jim patted Kestrel on the ass, getting him up and moving, the two of them moving easily
into each other’s arms.
“You should have the rest of those sent up to my suite,” he suggested as soon as they
were alone at the table.
“Sure, boss.” Those blue eyes looked over, still, empty. “I can do that.”
“Upstairs. Now.”
He stood and headed for the elevator. He didn’t have to look back to know that Malachi
would be behind him.
They stood at opposite sides of the elevator as people piled on and he watched the
numbers climb, the elevator slowly emptying out. Malachi never so much as looked at him. He
didn’t sigh, but he wanted to. He’d quite liked watching Malachi’s pleasure with the tarts, he’d
liked feeling that look focused on him.
The elevator arrived at the penthouse, and he went out, heading for his rooms. Soft steps
followed him, the scent of berries close. He slammed his hand on the palmlock, ready to pounce
the moment they were both through and the door was closed again. Malachi’s heat was on his
back, so close. So hot.
They fell through the door together, control snapping the moment they were through. He
twisted, his back landing against the wall as his hands wrapped around Malachi’s arms, tugging
him close. The kiss was wild, surprisingly sharp, Malachi needing him, desperate for him. His
own need matched Malachi’s and his hands dug into the strong arms.
The tarts were forgotten, the supper forgotten. All he knew was his icy lover, burning for
him.
He turned them, pushing Malachi up against the wall, slamming their hips together.
“Sir.” Malachi’s eyes stared into him, surprised. Hungry.
“I need you, Malachi, are you ready for me?”
“Yes, sir. Now.”
“Good.” He took another kiss, hard and sure, and then turned Malachi around to face the
wall, fingers working the ties of Malachi’s leather pants open, tugging them down below the
beautiful ass.
Malachi’s ass rocked back toward him, that fine cock heavy and hard for him.
For him.
He didn’t test Malachi with his fingers, he just lined up and pushed in, knowing Malachi
would be open for him, would be ready. Groaning, he sank to the hilt.
Slick, heated, perfect.
Perfect.
“Sir. Yours.”
“Yes. Mine.”
He wrapped one hand around Malachi’s hip, the other around that long, hard prick, and
started to move. Malachi rode him, silent and controlled, the only lack the tremor in those long
fingers.
He licked at the long neck, let his teeth scrape over the pale skin. “Let go, Malachi. Let
me see and hear and feel your pleasure.”
“Sir. Yes, sir. Please, Hercules. Love me.”
“I do.” He tightened his hold around Malachi’s prick, squeezing the heated flesh tight as
he thrust harder into Malachi’s perfect heat.
In his mind’s eye, he could see the ink, purple on the wrinkled little hole, spread around
him. Just the thought of it, the memory it being done, had him moving faster, a low groan torn
from him. Malachi’s cock throbbed, drops leaking down around his fingers.
Letting go of Malachi’s hip, he slid his hand up to the lovely face, fingers sliding on the
thin lips, pushing between them. Malachi’s cry brushed his fingers, then they were pulled into
that needy mouth, Malachi sucking hard. A shudder moved through him and he pushed harder,
shifting, searching for Malachi’s gland. He could feel it, when he hit it, Malachi grunting,
squeezing his cock.
“Oh yes, right there.”
He closed his eyes and buried his face in Malachi’s hair, breathing in the scent of his
lover as they fucked. Malachi nodded, sucking harder and harder, groaning around his fingers.
He lost himself in it, in Malachi.
“Show me,” he whispered harshly. “Show me your pleasure.”
“Yes. Yes, sir.” Malachi sobbed the words out, heat pouring over his fingers.
The hot, silky flesh tightened around him, squeezed him hard and made him cry out, his
hips snapping. He thrust again, and came, filling Malachi with his heat.
Malachi leaned forward, panting hard, cheek on his fingers. He stroked gently, leaning
against his lover, their bodies touching from shoulders to knees. He nosed Malachi’s hair out of
the way so he could kiss Malachi’s neck.
“Thank you.” Malachi’s words were soft, almost a whisper.
He kissed the soft, sweaty skin again, tongue coming out to lick the salt from Malachi’s
skin. “I’m going to have to get you more tarts.”
“Mmm-hmm. Those were amazing. So bright.” He smiled. It was so odd, for his Malachi
to openly enjoy something.
“You’ll have more.”
As many as Malachi could eat.
And perhaps it was time he found out what else would make Malachi light up like that.
Tomorrow. Tonight he had other plans.
Chapter Eight
Fuck, he wasn’t interested in dealing with Kes.
Not about work, Herc, or anything else. Besides, he was training.
Training.
So Mal turned his comm off and got his whips and got to work on the workerbees.
Love. Harley. Franklin. Seven. Nate. Little Arch.
His arm was limp and exhausted, entire body lathered in sweat when he was done.
A low chuckle came from the doorway and he looked up to find Des leaning against the
doorway. “Archie said someone had put a bug in your pants. Of course, I don’t think I’ve ever
seen the little guy look so blissed out.”
He grinned over, nodded. “Fuck you, Des. How’s it going?” Desmond made him happy,
was a good friend and one hell of a top.
The smile Des shot him at that question was blissful, lighting up the man’s entire face.
“It’s going very well. Connor has brought me such joy. And what about you – something’s
obviously bothering you. Did you want to talk about it?”
“No. No, I just have frustration that I needed to work through.”
Des chuckled. “By the state of the workerbees’ backs, I think you worked through it.”
“You know it.” He finished cleaning his whip, almost shaking with a sudden exhaustion.
“Besides, they needed a workout.”
“Oh, they surely did.” Des chuckled. “They always do. Well, how about a drink down at
the bar? We could catch up. I’m out of the loop – I’ve been a little … well, distracted.”
“I’d like that.” Mal headed for the sink, stripping off his shirt and beginning to wash.
“The honeymoon’s still in full force, then?”
Des grinned, cheeks pinking just a touch. “It is. He’s amazing, Mal. I never dreamed I’d
find someone … well, I dreamed of finding my other half, but I never expected it to be this
good.”
Mal chuckled, shook his head. “I’m tickled for you, my friend.” Tickled and a little sad,
because he’d found his other half and it was never going to be a dream. Or maybe because it was
never going to be a reality, just stolen moments. And he was going to have to work on hiding it,
too, before he lost everything. Maybe he needed a weekend off-planet, some time with another
trainer …
One of Des’ eyebrows went up. “Are you sure you don’t need that talk?”
“Absolutely. I’m good, Des, just overdid today. You know how that is.” He pulled his
control around him like a cloak, settling in his role.
“All right. Let’s go get that drink.”
A throat cleared and they both looked up to find Hercules at the door.
“Or not.” Des stood and patted his shoulder. “I want a rain check on that drink, though.
It’s been too long.”
“It has, my friend. We’ll catch up.” He had an honest smile for Des, a questioning one for
Hercules. “What’s up, Boss?”
Des and Herc shared smiles, nods. “I wanted to make sure everything was all right. I’ve
been trying to comm you.”
“Sorry, Boss. I was busy training, working out the subs. Everything good?” Mal wasn’t
fucking sure whether he wanted things to be good or terrible. He wasn’t sure what he wanted.
“I am fine.” Hercules closed the door and came to sit on the edge of his desk. “You
however, seem restless.”
“It happens to the best of us. But if you see it, I should care for it before it affects the
Glove.”
Hercules contemplated him for a long moment, and then he smiled, violet eyes flashing.
“I have a plan.”
“A plan?” Mal couldn’t help the way his body tightened, he never could, when he saw
that light in Hercules’ eyes.
“I have an old friend who runs a hotel on Alusia. We could stay for a few days. It is a
very discrete place, and …” Hercules smiled at him, the look unexpected and intimate. “Nobody
would know us there.”
A rush went through him, his cock aching, suddenly hard and full.
“I think the club could do without us for … oh, three days, maybe four?”
“You’re the boss.” He nodded, stepped forward a half step.
“Mmm-hmm, I am.” Hercules’ eyes were dark, and his head tilted, mouth opening.
“We’ll make sure we bring the heavy flogger.”
Mal nodded, body responding eagerly to the calm, sure tone.
“I locked the door behind Des,” murmured Hercules, eyelids dropping to half mast.
“No one but Monk and I can override your palmlock.”
“And Monk has his hands full with a security briefing.” Hercules licked his lips.
Mal nodded, held out his shaking arms, his bruised hands, thankful he hadn’t put his shirt
on yet. Hercules took his hands, kissing first one and then the other on the palm. The gentle
touches were at odds with the heat in the violet eyes.
Then his desk was cleared with a single sweep of Hercules’ arm, his own body eased
back down onto it. He followed Hercules’ lead, need fighting with his own control.
Hercules picked up the whipped he’d been using, that he’d cleaned. One hot hand landed
on his belly, stroking. “You’ll wear my marks.”
“As you wish.” He would wear anything his lover asked of him. “I wear some
permanently.”
Hercules growled a little. “You do. And that makes me hard.”
Stepping back, Hercules let the whip fly, striking him across the chest and belly. He bit
back his sigh, his muscles too sore to tense, so instead of cutting deep, the ache spread, so hot, so
good.
Hercules whipped him again and then began to trace the marks, fingers digging into his
skin. “I love the way your skin takes my marks. I love the way you yield to me.”
“No one else.” He pushed up into the touch, caught by Hercules’ will. “I’m afraid, Sir.
Afraid I cannot hide my need of you.”
“Where we are going you won’t have to.” Hercules’ tongue traced where his fingers had
pressed, where the whip had struck. Hot and wet, it burned his skin with perfect heat.
“Thank you. Thank you, Sir.” His cock throbbed in his leathers, full, eager, happy.
Hercules’ mouth slid up his jaw and then found his own, tongue pressing into his mouth,
tangling with his own. Their eyes met and his world stopped. Love. He loved. That emotion was
reflected back to him, and Hercules stroked his cheek.
“Yes.” Those violet eyes held his as that hand slid down over his chest, over his belly,
and then pushed into his leathers.
His cock leapt eagerly into the touch, those fingers the center of his fantasies, of his need.
Tongue fucking his mouth, Hercules’ hand pulled and tugged, sliding on his cock. He moaned,
fighting to hold back, to give his Hercules the control he deserved.
“Mmm … how long can you hold back your orgasm, my fire?”
“As long as you will it.” He would hold himself in control for an eternity.
“Then you will not come until we have arrived at our room on Alusia.” His prick was
given one last squeeze, and then Hercules let him go, grinning wickedly. “Put on your shirt and
we’ll meet my helicopter on the roof.”
“I …” Oh, shit. He had so many things to do, responsibilities. Rules. Things he needed
to … “Yes, sir.”
Hercules pulled his comm out of his pocket. “Kestrel. Malachi and I have been called
away. Put Des and Hawk in charge of the workerbees – tell them I’m calling in my markers –
and delegate anything else that comes up as necessary. We should be back in four days. Thank
you.” With that the comm was closed, Kestrel not having had a chance to get a word in
edgewise. Herc made two other brief calls, arranging for transportation and their room at the
hotel. The comm was shut down completely after that.
He pulled on a shirt, looking over. “Do I need to pack anything, sir?”
“No.” That wicked smile was back, Hercules’ gaze almost a physical touch as it swept
over him from head to foot. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”
Oh.
He almost preened.
Almost.
Hercules’ hand slid to the small of his back as they walked to the lifts. They were the
only ones on the lift and Hercules’ hand dropped back to knead his cock through his leathers,
teasing him. He didn’t move, didn’t react, settling in his control.
“When we get to Alusia I want to see and hear every reaction. I want to watch you writhe
and I want to hear you beg.”
“Yes, sir.” Goosebumps raised up all over his arms and his nipples went rock hard.
“I can smell you, Malachi.”
The lift arrived at the top floor before he could answer, Hercules’ hand disappearing from
his cock.
He stepped out, into the waiting transport, into their escape.
Chapter Nine
They stepped off the helicopter on the roof of the Golden Hotel on Alusia and Hercules
took Malachi’s hand, twisting their fingers together as the blades sent his hair and Malachi’s
braid flying.
His heart began to pound and it felt almost … illicit. He hadn’t held anyone’s hand in …
a very long time.
It was extremely intimate.
Malachi was almost vibrating. His lover was close to breaking again, so close to the last
time, and the sheer joy and relief at his words reinforced that they needed this. He should have
thought of it sooner.
A member of the hotel staff met them as they entered by the roof access, the man a lovely
little twink who was obviously eager to please. “Mr. Hercules, Mr. Malachi. Welcome, welcome.
We have everything arranged for you – a large room with all the items you requested. There’s a
list of all the amenities on the coffee table, and we hope you’ll take advantage of some of them
while you’re here.
“If there is anything at all I can do, please just page me – my name is Mott.”
“Thank you, Mott. For now, we simply require a bed.” He let his gaze rest on Malachi –
there would be no doubt they were together.
“Of course. Have a pleasant stay.” The staff was obviously well-trained and the lad
disappeared, leaving them alone. He watched the twink go, Malachi’s eyes burning into him.
He put his hand on the palmplate on the door in front of them, and it slid open. “Hmm …
almost as efficient as the Glove. I’m almost impressed.” He winked at Malachi and led his lover
inside.
The place was bright, full of plants and flowers against white white walls and carpet and
furniture. He didn’t stop to check it out, though. He was too busy dragging Malachi down the
hall where they found the bedroom.
His Malachi would look amazing in the stark sheets, bleached hair almost the same white.
“Undress me,” he ordered. “Slowly.”
“Yes, sir.” He could watch this for days – the way Malachi looked at him, brushed the
fabric away and adored his skin.
“Suck me while you’re down there, but don’t make me come.”
Malachi dared to smile, those lips opening over his cock, giving him soft, sucking kisses
all the way along the shaft. Groaning, he slid his hands into Malachi’s hair, tugging strands out
of the already messy braid.
“Such heat.” Malachi’s mouth was like an oven.
The tip of his cock was given long, slow attention, Malachi moaning over it, sucking
slow and gentle. Each suck sent a pulse of pleasure through him, Malachi’s devotion arousing.
He took it for as long as he could, not wanting to make it end.
“Enough,” he finally whispered, his own control almost gone.
Malachi backed away, panting for him, eyes alight. “Yes. Yes, sir.”
“Yourself now. Get naked.” His voice was rough with his arousal, his need.
Malachi took less time there, baring the lean, finely-muscled body easily.
That lovely long prick reached up for Malachi’s belly, and he reached out, wrapping it in
his hand. “Still no coming. I want to be inside you when you finally do.”
“Yes, sir.” Malachi nodded, face calm, serene.
He slid his fingers across the damp tip, and then brought them to his mouth, licking at
Malachi’s flavor. He could see Malachi’s throat work, hear Malachi’s swallowed groan.
“There should be a tube of slick on the pillow, Malachi. Prepare yourself for me.”
“Yes, sir.” Malachi’s eyes burned for him, only for a moment, then the tube was grabbed,
those long fingers slicked before they disappeared behind his lover’s back. Oh, no, pretty as the
front view was, that wouldn’t do at all.
“Turn around, love. And spread your legs so I can see.” He wanted to see that dragon that
was just for him, he wanted to see Malachi’s needy little hole spread for him.
Those lean cheeks went deep red, Malachi’s head ducking. “Yes, sir.”
Then Malachi turned and spread, three fingers buried in that tiny hole. Hercules groaned,
letting Malachi hear how much it pleased him to see Malachi’s need and obedience.
“Make it four.”
Malachi shuddered, ass muscles clenching as he was spread further. The tip of the dragon
inked behind Malachi’s balls disappeared inside that hole. It was so sexy. And it was all for him.
Malachi would do anything for him.
“Enough.” He barked the order out. “My turn.”
Those fingers stopped moving, slipped out of the wrinkled hole.
Stepping forward, he wrapped his hands around Malachi’s hips, fingers rubbing over the
pale ass, spreading Malachi’s cheeks. “Brace yourself on the bed.”
Hands landed on the bed, the flush crawling up Malachi’s ass.
He hummed, poking Malachi’s ass with his prick, rubbing up and down along the crease
and then bumping the heavy balls from behind. “Do you know what you need, Malachi?”
“Yes, Hercules.”
Chuckling, he swatted Malachi’s ass. “You do, do you?”
“You. I need you.”
“That’s right.”
He pushed against Malachi’s hole, watching as the tip of his cock spread the wrinkled
flesh apart and then disappeared between Malachi’s ass cheeks. His controlled Malachi didn’t
make a sound, just took him in deep.
So tight and hot, Malachi’s body burned around his cock. Groaning, he began to move, to
slide in and out of the amazing heat. Malachi’s body squeezed him, rippled around him, fighting
to keep him inside.
He sped his pace, shifting until he was hitting Malachi’s gland with each push into
Malachi’s heat. The softest of moans sounded, Malachi’s need whispered into the air.
His fingers tightened on Malachi’s hips, and he tugged his lover into his next thrust. “Let
me hear you. The whole time we’re here, Malachi, I want to hear you.”
“Yes. Yes, sir.” Those words were soft, but he heard them.
“Good.” He kept thrusting, one hand leaving Malachi’s hip so he could rake his
fingernails down the long spine.
He heard the scrape and rasp of Malachi’s fingers on the sheets, echoed by the tension
around his cock.
“No coming until I tell you,” he warned.
“Hercules …” He got an arch, a deep, pained groan.
Malachi didn’t need to worry, though. Much as he would have liked to have done this for
hours, his own orgasm was coming soon. He could feel it making his spine curl, his stomach
clenching as he held on as long as he could, biting his lower lip while he watched Malachi writhe
on his prick. That sweet ass jerked and squeezed, Malachi working him, forcing him closer and
closer to orgasm.
“Malachi!” He pushed in hard, balls drawing up tight. “Now! Come now!”
He smelled it, as his lover came, shot for him. His own seed was already flowing from his
body, pushing deep into Malachi.
Groaning, he bent forward to rest against Malachi’s back, his breath panting from him.
Malachi’s muscles jumped and shivered, but the lean form held him, held his weight. Hands
sliding over the warm skin, he wished that he’d thought to have a plug ready, so Malachi could
spend a few hours with his come deep inside his lover.
Malachi stretched, body rippling around him, almost hugging him. He hummed, pleasure
moving through him.
“Mmm …” He kissed the long spine. “I suppose I’ll have to come out – I’m not in a very
good position for sipping champagne and eating the very best the hotel has to offer.”
Malachi chuckled softly, head turning so Mal could wink at him. “Well, I could have
someone tip some champagne into you. You couldn’t taste it, but it would go to you head.”
Laughing, he slapped Malachi’s hip. “That would be a waste of what I am sure is
extremely expensive, very good champagne.”
The laughter had him sliding out, and he reluctantly finished the job, sighing as his cock
slipped from Malachi’s body. Malachi moaned softly, his seed making the back of those muscled
thighs shine. Hercules rubbed it into Malachi’s skin, loving that his scent would be on Malachi’s
skin all day.
Then he threw himself on the bed, the mattress almost welcoming him, holding him in a
soft embrace. “Oh. This is something else.” He patted the mattress next to him.
“It’s good. Thank you. Thank you, Hercules.”
He stroked whatever skin he could reach. “Mmm … I do love you, you know, Malachi.”
“I know.” Malachi turned toward him, lips offered to him. “And I love you.”
“Good. Then everything else will fall in place.”
He took the offered kiss, fingers continuing to slide on Malachi’s skin as their tongues
tangled together. Malachi pressed into his arms, moaning softly, hands exploring his body. Oh.
Oh, those hands knew him, knew exactly where he needed to be touched. He arched, pushing
into them.
The first time had been for Malachi. This was for both of them.
Soft sounds pushed into his lips, Malachi’s tongue sliding against his, adoring him. He
rubbed against Malachi, fingers stroking the fine belly. Malachi’s cock lifted, filled to half-mast,
just at that simple, soft touch.
“So responsive.” It was one of his favorite things about Malachi. He rubbed his own
filling cock against Malachi’s thigh.
“I thought I would wait for you forever.” The words were whispered, almost silent,
against his ear.
“You would have, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Groaning, he pressed into the kiss. Malachi’s hands wrapped around the back of his head,
holding him close, deepening the kiss. He opened wide, letting his lover in, letting Malachi have
all of him.
Heat flooded him as Malachi crawled atop him, legs cradling his hips. He reached up,
sliding his hands over Malachi’s arms, groaning as the kiss deepened. Those eyes burned into
him, loving him, making him feel like a god.
He wrapped one leg around Malachi’s waist, holding his lover in place. Malachi tested
him, nipping his bottom lip, bucking against his leg. Groaning, he grabbed Malachi’s wrists,
tugged them up over his head. It brought all of Malachi’s weight down on him and he bucked up,
sliding their cocks together.
“Hercules.” That amazing control slammed up against his will.
“Let go and love me, Malachi.” He squeezed Malachi’s wrists and licked the thin lips.
“With all I have.” Malachi pushed into the kiss, tongue sliding into his lips.
Grabbing hold of Malachi’s tongue with his lips, he sucked, moaning around the live,
wicked bit of flesh. That heavy cock jerked against his, the heat between them flaming. He
bucked up over and over, their pricks bumping and hitting, making his movements jerky, making
him let go of Malachi’s hands.
“Yours.” Nails dragged down his side.
He mirrored the touch, adding a pinch to Malachi’s hip. “Yes.”
The gasp and jerk he got made him smile. Reaching around Malachi, he squeezed one
muscled ass cheek, moving faster beneath his lover’s weight.
“Love.” Yes. Yes, close.
This orgasm was borne solely of the emotion between them, and the way they could
make each other’s bodies feel. He kept moving, gasping as he whispered Malachi’s name over
and over, the pleasure running through him.
Malachi was staring into his eyes when the heat splashed over his belly.
“Malachi …” The name was barely breath on his lips, his back arching as he came as
well, their seed mixing together.
His strong lover collapsed down against him, panting, pressing close. He wrapped his
arms around Malachi, reveling in the heat and sweat and closeness. His eyes closed and he
thought he could lie here for the rest of the day, perhaps longer. And then he thought that he
could indeed do exactly that if he wanted to.
“You know what the best part of this is?”
“What?” Malachi was nearly asleep.
“We can stay here as long as we like. There are no duties lurking, no comms about to go
off. We can sleep all night, or all day without a single interruption.”
“Mmm. It’s like a dream.” Malachi became heavier and heavier.
“But it’s real, which makes it better.” He stroked Malachi’s back, soothing his lover
further.
With the weight of the club taken away, he could focus on enjoying the weight of his lover. His
Malachi.
Chapter Ten
Mal pulled out a pair of violet leathers for Hercules and a pale silk shirt that would be
comfortable. He placed them at the foot of the bed, smiling at his sleeping lover for a moment
before heading for the shower, longing for some hot water.
So far their vacation had been wonderful – both relaxing and rejuvenating. And there was
something to be said for having all of Hercules’ attention for more than an hour or two.
Mal turned the water on, luxuriating in the steam, the heat, the sheer laziness of it. He
leaned back, hand sliding on his cock, rubbing up and down, caressing himself.
“Well, well, what have we here?” Hercules’ voice slid over him like a touch.
He stopped for only a moment, and then kept touching. Hercules hadn’t suggested he not
touch himself. “I’m showering.”
Hercules chuckled and stepped into the shower with him. One hand reached out, finger
touching the tip of his prick. “You should have woken me if you wanted.”
He groaned, the sound surprising him. “I will always want you, Hercules.”
“Good.” Hercules tipped his chin, taking a kiss, tongue pushing into his mouth.
His hand left his cock, wrapping around his lover and tugging Hercules into the water.
Humming into his mouth, Hercules rubbed against him, fingers moving over his skin, the water
making everything slick. Their bodies had learned where they fit together, his cock against
Hercules’ hip, Hercules’ chest solid against him.
They moved together, the water falling around them, making them a private water world.
Mal let himself relax completely, let himself trust that this was safe – for his soul, his heart, his
body – and he let himself adore Hercules.
“Love you,” whispered Hercules, hands sliding to cup his ass and tug him in more firmly.
“Yes. Yes, Hercules.” There was nothing to do but agree and groan, push closer to that
wet heat.
His cock slid along Hercules’ hip and belly, while Hercules’ rubbed over his belly against
and again. His fingers wrapped around their pricks, moving steadily, stroking with steady, sure
motions.
“Yes,” Hercules hissed, hips moving, their movements matching perfectly. Then one of
Hercules’ hands dropped over his, tightening his hold and speeding his motions.
The kiss went wild, both of them grunting, hands flying together, the heat incredible.
Hercules bit at his lower lip, tugging it. His grunt preceded his orgasm, heat throbbing out of his
cock.
“Malachi!” Hercules shouted his name, shuddering as he came, too.
“Beautiful.” He smiled, lips moving over Hercules’ neck.
“Mmm … you look happy.”
“I am.” He was. He felt relaxed, like he could rest. Heal. Breathe.
“Good. Let’s get dressed.” Hercules stepped back and looked him up and down. “I want
to take you out and show you off.”
Heat flared in his cheeks and he nodded, smiled. “We’ve never been out together.”
“I know. I’m looking forward to it.” Hercules stroked his cheek and then slapped his ass.
“Come on.”
He chuckled, grabbed a towel and dried Hercules carefully before drying himself, a song
singing through his head. Hercules squeezed the water out of his hair and then found a brush,
handing it over to him. He spent time grooming his lover, beginning to hum, enjoying the simple
joy they were sharing. Hercules’ hum joined his, and then his lover chuckled, hand sliding across
his belly.
“What’s funny?” He stepped toward the touch.
“We’re being positively domestic.” One of Hercules’ eyebrows went up. “And we’re
enjoying it.”
“It’s a special treat. We ought to.” In fact, he did. He loved being able to breathe.
Hercules nodded and pulled him into a kiss, tongue sweeping softly through his mouth. It
wasn’t a kiss of passion, but of love. He wrapped his arms around Hercules’ waist, fingers
drawing lazy shapes.
They kissed, one flowing into another, and then Hercules leaned their foreheads together.
“Let me take you to supper and feed you something decadent and wonderful.”
“Yes, Hercules.” He could think of nothing he’d rather do.
Hercules took another quick kiss and then stood, dressing quickly. The man looked
stunning in the clothes Mal had set out, the leather pants hugging the long legs. His clothes were
simpler – his leathers traded out for soft, loose clothes that brushed his skin, made him shiver.
“Oh.” Hercules reached for him, touched the material over his belly. “That’s lovely.”
He arched, swallowing his moan. Yes. Yes, lovely.
“Let’s go now.” Hercules took his hand. “I’m eager to show you off.”
He nodded, feeling young again. Feeling loved. Feeling alive.
They left their rooms and he almost tugged his hand from Hercules’, it was so ingrained
that they didn’t do this in public. But Hercules’ hand tightened on his, his lover smiling at him.
He blinked, chuckled softly. “Habit.”
“I know. It feels strange, but good.”
And even stranger as they stepped out onto a garden restaurant, still holding hands where
everyone could see.
They were seated, the light pouring down around them. His shoulders were tight, his
instincts screaming that this was dangerous.
Hercules’ fingers slid over his knuckles. “Relax, Malachi.”
“I keep thinking …” At Hercules’ grin, he blushed deep, his own advice to new
workerbees echoing.
No thinking.
Triangles of bread and vegetables with a dip were put in front of them. Hercules leaned
in and grabbed one of the bread cubes, dipping it into sauce before holding it out to him. He
opened his lips, moaning at the spicy dip. It was surprisingly intimate, being fed. Hercules’
fingers lingered against his lips for a moment, and then were gone.
“My turn.”
“Yes.” He nodded, smiled. He knew Hercules’ tastes better than his own, so he picked a
smoky dip, a crunchy, almost tart tuber, feeding the bite to his lover.
“Mmm …” Hercules moans as soon as the taste hit his lips, teeth biting at his fingertips.
His cock throbbed, filling in his pants. “It’s good?”
“It is.” Hercules held his gaze, the soft smile echoed in the violet eyes.
His entire body responded, flushing with a soft, pure heat.
The moment was interrupted by a waiter. “Have you chosen what you’d like to eat?”
Hercules held his eyes a moment longer. His smile slipped out. Their staff was much
better trained.
Laughing softly, Hercules nodded, agreeing with his unspoken thoughts. “What would
you recommend?” Hercules asked the young man.
“The roast is luscious. There is a special dish featuring seafood from five planets. Or the
house specialty is a series of aphrodisiacs from around the universe.”
Hercules’ lips twitched. “Shall we share the aphrodisiacs, Malachi?”
“As you will, Hercules.” His lips never drew into the smile, but he knew Herc could see
the amusement in his eyes.
“We’ll have the aphrodisiacs. Make sure there’s enough for two.”
The little twink fluttered off and Hercules turned back to him. “I’m interested in seeing
just what they’re calling an aphrodisiac these days. I know that all I need is the power of the
world’s best top bent to my will.”
One of his eyebrows arched. “After so many times, you haven’t tired of it?”
Heat flashed in Hercules’ eyes. “I will never tire of having you, Malachi. Never.”
He nodded once. As he would never tired of needing his Hercules. The heat in Hercules’
eyes didn’t fade and it was unfamiliar, exciting, having that gaze trained on him in public. He
could feel his body responding to it, balls growing heavy, heartbeat speeding.
Hercules’ nostrils flared – his lover knew. “Leaning in, Hercules nipped at his earlobe
before speaking softly. “I can smell you.”
“Master.” The honorific escaped him, without him expecting it.
“I do love the way that word sounds when you say it.” Hercules took his hand and
brought it to the warm lips, tongue sliding out to taste his skin.
“You are the only one.” The only man he could say that to.
“I know.”
He could tell that pleased Hercules.
Hercules sat back as their first course arrived, a fancy glass with violet liquid in it. “The
juice of the rare soni plant.”
“What a lovely color.” He grinned at Hercules, winked.
“Indeed.” Hercules laughed, the sound deep and rich, one he didn’t hear nearly often
enough.
“Would you like to try the first sip?” It smelled … sharp, but sweet, Intense.
“I’d like to try the first sip from your mouth.”
“You learned that trick from Desmond.” He picked up the glass, smiled.
“I’m not so old a dog I can’t learn new tricks.” Hercules winked, leaned in close.
Mal took a sip and brought their lips together, carefully feeding the juice into Hercules’
lips. Humming, Hercules drank from him, tongue sweeping through his mouth, sharing the drink
with him. His lips were tingling, tongue alternately hot and cold as they shared the drink.
Hercules’ lips slowly parted from his, those violet eyes shining.
“What did you think?” He wasn’t sure he could feel anything particular.
“I think I want another taste from the same vessel.”
“Yes, sir.” He slid closer, taking a small sip, allowing his lover to drink from him.
Hercules’ tongue dove into his mouth, the drink little more than an excuse. His nerves
were buzzing, heating up, his cock hard as nusteel in his pants. As the kiss ended, Hercules’ hand
slid along his thigh. His muscles went tight, the soft fabric tickling the hair on his legs.
“I don’t know about the drink, but you my dear, have me ready to go.”
“Well, then, we’ll have to thank the chef.”
“I’d rather keep my thanks for you.” Hercules gave him a wink, backing off, a little,
when the waiter came back with the second course. “Oysters from the Sarapian Fields.”
“Oysters.” He chuckled, lifting one and offering it to Herc’s lips.
“They’re rather predictable here, hmm?” Still, Hercules grabbed his hand, fingers
stroking his wrist as the oyster slid between his lover’s lips.
“Mmm. Not everywhere can be home, but this is fun.”
Hercules sat back, face pensive.
“What? Is the oyster not good?”
“Not at all, the oyster was fine. It was what you said …”
Malachi stilled, trying to remember what he’d said to upset Herc. Not everywhere was
home. This was fun. Damn it. “Which part?”
“You said not everywhere was home, but you’re wrong.” Hercules shrugged, but his eyes
were serious. “You’re home.”
“Oh.” He didn’t know how to respond to that, beyond reaching out and grabbing Herc’s
hand.
“I think perhaps I needed to leave the Glove to know that.” Hercules chuckled. “It’s the
first time in a long time since I’ve left the place for more than an hour or two.”
“It is … all-encompassing.” He never let it leave his mind, even when he was with Herc.
“It is our lives.” Hercules met his eyes, the look intense. “But perhaps not the whole of
our lives.”
“No, not the whole. There is part of us that is secret, even from the Glove.”
“A secret that is stifling you.”
“It has to be done.” Hercules was worth it. The Glove was worth it.
“That has been my belief, yes.”
Their little waiter came back with the next course. “Fried tisu hearts.”
It was set with a flourish between them, and Hercules’ eyebrows went up. “Tisu hearts.”
His nose wrinkled. “Tisu hearts.” That was … damn.
Hercules nodded to the potted plant next to them. “We could toss them in there …”
“That suits me. I don’t think those are edible.”
“I’d rather not find out.” Hercules gave him a wink and tossed one of the hearts into the
planter.
That made him start to chuckle. “I hope the plant doesn’t die.”
Hercules chuckled. “Given what we’re paying for our stay they can afford a dead plant or
two.”
The twinky waiter headed back toward them and Hercules leaned in. “If we go now we
can make our escape before they bring us anything else.”
“Sounds perfect. We can order something simple and filling from room service.” He
laughed, grabbed Hercules’ hand. “Come on, boss. Now.”
Hercules left a pile of cred chips on the table and followed him, low chuckles sliding
down his spine.
They were laughing hard as they hit the lifts, the sounds mingling together. He’d never
laughed so hard – not even with Kes. He didn’t know he could. Hercules leaned against the lift
wall, tugging him to stand in the lee of his lover’s body. Their laughter slowly faded, leaving
them wrapped in a glow.
He stretched up, all along Herc’s body, bringing their lips together in a long, slow kiss
that burned. One of Hercules’ hands landed on his ass, tugging him in even closer. The kiss
seemed endless, their tongues pushing and sliding, hot enough that he couldn’t catch his breath.
The lift stopped, the doors sliding open long before they were ready to stop kissing.
“Damn, these efficient lifts!” muttered Hercules and the laughter came again, both of them
heading out into the hallway.
Hercules’ arm looped around his shoulders as they walked toward their room, and it
didn’t even flinch as someone came out of a room further down the hall and headed toward them.
Hercules only nodded at their fellow guest.
His arm snaked around, landing on Hercules’ waist. A soft hum came from his lover,
Hercules giving him a smile before palming the lock on their door.
“Let’s go out to the balcony. I want to take you with the sun shining on us.”
“Sounds luscious.” The balcony had a padded bench, the arms rounded and comfortable-
looking.
“Mmm … we might even put some color on this pale skin. Though you know I’m
thinking red rather than tan.” Hercules gave him a wink.
His body went tight, prick thankfully hidden in his pants.
“My hand is tingling, Malachi. Just tingling.” Those violet eyes looked right through him.
His moan escaped him, surprising him. Hercules tilted his head and took a kiss, hand
coming down to slap against his ass, just the once. There wasn’t even a sting, just a flush of lazy
arousal.
Hercules’ tongue swept through his mouth and then to his surprise, his lover began to
undress him. It made him tremble, made his cock stiff and his body ache.
“My ice-man is melting,” murmured Hercules.
“Does that please you?”
“It does, Malachi. I like making you hot, making you need.” Hercules’ fingers slid over
his chest as his shirt was pushed over his shoulders. His belly rippled, that soft touch nearly his
undoing.
Hercules brushed his nipples, first one, and then the other, fingers barely landing on his
skin before disappearing again. He wasn’t sure what to do, what Hercules expected of him.
“I will hear your sounds, Malachi.” A touch ghosted across his belly. He let himself
moan, his entire body aching, wanting that touch. “Yes. Oh, yes.” Hercules hummed and stepped
forward, licking at his right nipple.
His nipple went tight and hard, drawing up so quickly it almost hurt. A flick of Hercules’
tongue and his nipple was abandoned in favor of the other one. His hands came up, sliding along
Hercules’ arms.
A soft kiss pressed against his skin, just above the nipple. And then another one followed,
and another. He leaned back, supporting himself against the wall, the sun pouring down on him.
The kisses continued, dancing over his chest and belly, Herucles’ lips so soft and hot.
“Herc …” His hips rolled, head falling back as he moaned.
“So soft,” murmured Hercules, tongue leaving a wet trail behind it.
No one but Hercules would ever think so. Ever.
Then Hercules’ mouth opened over his erection, sucking him through his pants.
“Hercules.” His thighs went rock hard.
His lover backed off, looked up at him with one eyebrow quirked.
“What?”
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Hercules smiled at him, those violet eyes shining. And then his pants were
undone, button first followed by the long slow glide of the zipper.
“I. What do you want me to do, Hercules?”
“Whatever feels good, Malachi.”
His hands reached down, stroked Herc’s jaw.
“Mmm …” Hercules nuzzled into his touch, face turning to kiss his palm.
All the amazing sex, all the things he’d seen and done, and this simple touch buckled his
knees. Hercules caught him as he fell, bringing their mouths together in an all consuming kiss.
He wrapped around his lover, tongue pushing into Hercules’ mouth. Lost. He was lost.
Hercules tore open his pants, shifting them and pushing him back onto the ground, the
long, lovely body following him down and grinding against him.
Fuck. Fuck him. He arched, humping wildly, heat flooding him. More. In seconds
Hercules was as naked as he was, their hips humping hard. His hips canted and he begged for it,
just as much as Hercules did. Hercules accepted his invitation, prick pushing between his legs,
pushing at his hole.
“Please.” He bucked up, riding that heavy cock. “Now.”
“Right now.” Hercules pushed in, cock stretching him wide.
“Yes!” They moved together, one mind, one need just fighting to be together.
Hercules began to thrust, long cock spreading him. They stared into each other and Mal
grunted, groaned, offering up his need without hesitation. Hercules pushed into him over and
over, their bodies noisy as they slapped together.
His back and ass rubbed against the rug on the floor; they were probably going to leave
marks. Herc’s marks. He groaned, arched up. It didn’t matter. Hercules’ hand would erase them.
The same hand that now wrapped around his prick, tugging and pulling in time with each thrust.
His cry rang out, followed by his seed, the pleasure pumping from him.
“Yes!” Hercules broke their kiss, hips jerking roughly as he came, too, filling Mal with
heat.
They stared at each other as their breath slowed, their heartbeats easing.
“You enchant me, Malachi. You make me lose all sense and reason.” It didn’t sound like
it was a complaint.
“I’m yours.” That was the best he had.
“Yes.” Hercules smiled, his eyes shining with love. “I never expected to have this in my
life. I never expected you. Even when we first began, I …” Hercules shook his head. “You are
mine and I will hold onto you until the end of time.”
“Thank you.” He brought Hercules down, took a long, heady kiss.
Hercules kissed him back passionately, cock still buried deep inside him. He squeezed,
one leg wrapped around Hercules’ hip. His. Groaning, Hercules nodded, letting him have all of
his lover’s weight on him. Letting him have all of Hercules.
His rested his cheek on Hercules’ shoulder, settled, bone-deep.
Chapter Eleven
Hercules had never seen Malachi so relaxed.
He’d never been so relaxed himself.
He felt strong and easy and alert. Sexy.
They were packed, some little thing having already taken their bags to the heliport. They
would be back at the club in a matter of hours. Of course they weren’t there yet.
His eyes followed Malachi as the long body wandered the suite, double checking to make
sure they hadn’t left anything behind. Hercules didn’t figure there was anything they’d miss if
were left behind aside from each other.
“Come here,” he ordered softly.
Malachi came to him, loose-limbed and sensual, face relaxed, entire body and mind
focused on him.
He wrapped his hand in Malachi’s hair and pulled his lover in close, their lips parting as
they met. The kiss was long and deep, and almost lazy. Nothing was held back from him – there
was nothing but a genuine pleasure, a bone-deep need and love.
“On the bed,” he murmured as their lips parted, those icy eyes hot for him. “We’ll lie
head to toe. We have time if we’re quick about it.”
Malachi nodded, those clever fingers opening his trousers to free his aching cock before
going to the bed.
Groaning, that brief touch a tease, he climbed onto the bed, settling with his face at
Malachi’s crotch. He could smell his lover’s heat and need through the white leathers Malachi
wore. It was intoxicating.
Malachi didn’t tease, that mouth circling him, sucking him in deep. Groaning, he hurried
to return the favor, opening the laces that held Malachi’s prick in, releasing it and taking it into
his mouth as soon as it sprang free.
Hot, hard, the drops at the tip were pure Malachi and had him pulling hard, tongue sliding
across the slit, searching for more of that flavor. He could feel Malachi crying out around his
cock, the sound vibrating and buzzing around his flesh.
They had done nothing but make love, do scenes and relax. He was more sated than he
had ever been. And yet, with the taste of Malachi on his tongue and Malachi’s mouth around his
cock, he was as needy as he had ever been. His hips began to move, driving his cock deep into
Malachi’s mouth.
His Malachi took him and demanded more, lips pulling furiously on his prick, tongue
slapping the shaft. He sucked Malachi’s cock just as vigorously, determined to bring Malachi
tumbling over with him.
He could feel that lean body tensing, hips jerking toward his face, into his hands. Yes, oh
yes. He pulled harder, fingers sliding to push into Malachi’s leathers, stroking his lover’s hot
balls, even as his own pleasure began to overwhelm him.
Malachi groaned, salty heat pouring into his lips even as his own balls tightened. His hips
jerked, and he came, pleasure shooting along his spine even as the taste of Malachi coated his
throat.
Moaning, he began to clean Malachi’s prick, pulling very slowly off it. Malachi’s sounds
wrapped around his cock as he slid free, those hands rubbing his thighs.
A soft knock sounded as he was tucking Malachi back into his leathers. “Your helicopter
is here to take you to your transport, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Malachi’s sigh was almost inaudible. Almost. “Are you ready to go home, Boss?”
He stood, Malachi following suit as they straightened themselves out. “It is our home and
I miss it.” He turned to look Malachi in the eye, fingers sliding along the tight braid that bound
the white hair. “It has been a joy being here with you.”
“It has.” Malachi leaned toward him, only for a second. “Let’s go, Boss. The Glove’s
waiting.”
“It is indeed.”
His club. Built from the ground up by his own hands. Malachi had been with him almost
all the way. The very best Top ever teaching tops how to do their job, teaching subs how to revel
in what they needed and wanted …
They made their way up to the roof and took the helicopter to the transport station. As
they left the planet, the transport’s engines humming lightly around them, he could feel Malachi
grow more … not tense, but withdrawn, pulling back into himself.
No one would ever know about the two of them because that was how he wanted it and
what he wanted, Malachi gave him. No matter what.
A little voice inside him said that perhaps it was time he take a good, hard look at exactly
what it was he wanted.
* * * * *
“Mal, I need you to run up to the training salle, there’s a problem.”
“Mal, Love’s throwing food in the dining room.”
“Mal, Master Peter needs to speak with you and there’s a message from Bowie.”
Four days he’d been back and he hadn’t had more than two hours sleep in a row and
those naps had been in the employee lounge.
Still, it’d been worth it.
“Mal?” Kes popped up in front of him, eyes wide. “We have a problem.”
Oh, fuck him. “What’s up?”
They started walked – no, running – toward the lifts. “There’s a sub that’s freaking out –
won’t let anyone touch him. I don’t get it. I’ve checked the paperwork.”
“Who?”
“He came in while you were gone. Your new assistant vetted him.”
“You mean my former new assistant, right? Name? Background?”
“Dez. Young. Needed work. He came from the port; used to program warp drivers.”
Young. Goodie. “Call Garce. Tell him I need him.”
Kes stared. “Garce? But he’s …”
“Call him.” Garce was tough. Fierce. But there was something about the man that could
calm a raging, terrified sub like no one else.
His comm beeped. He knew that beep. It was the Boss. Kes was staring even harder now.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’ll call.”
“Good.” He grabbed the comm. “Yes, Boss?”
“What in the seven galaxies is going on down there?” Hercules sounded pissed.
“We’re busy. It’s a normal day. What’s up?”
“I haven’t seen you in days and every time I call looking for you I get told you’re solving
some emergency.”
“Yeah. I probably deserve a raise. Kes, did you find him?”
“Yes, Mal. He’s meeting us there.”
“Good, get Harley to come pet the top.” He sighed. “What do you need, Boss?”
“Come see me when you’ve got the latest fire put out, Malachi.”
“You got it, Boss. As soon as.” He clicked off, grinning at Kes. “Off to the rescue, huh?”
“You know it, Mal darling.”
* * * * *
Hercules hated having to watch what he said to Malachi in public. He hated having to
censor his looks. He was the boss. He should have been able to do or say what he wanted to
whoever he wanted. That it was by his own decree that he could not was not lost on him.
Three weeks since their vacation and he’d seen Malachi more in public than in private.
Which would be fine if he could touch the man, smile at him as he wished to do. However, he
could not.
It made a man think.
Growling, unhappy, he made his way down to the training salles. Malachi was in the little
private office, doing paperwork, drinking some violently pink concoction that smelled foul.
Hercules closed the door quietly. “What was the bet?”
“What?” Those icy eyes stared up at him, completely confused.
“You must have lost a bet to be drinking that … thing.” He admired the long, lean body,
those piercing eyes.
“Kes’ Jim brought it. It’s some hyper-strong caf thing. It tastes like spoiled death.”
“Then don’t drink it.” He stepped closer, sitting on the edge of Malachi’s desk. “I have
something else to wake you up.”
Malachi’s control never wavered. “I imagine you do.”
He waved at the desk. “You. This desk. Pounding.”
One eyebrow went up. “Yes, Hercules.” Malachi stood and went to the door, locking it.
So controlled, so strong.
“Undress for me. Slowly.” He would have the time he needed. Wanted. The club could
wait.
“Yes, sir.” Malachi’s vest was opened, eased off.
Hercules’ prick pushed up against his trousers. He wanted very badly. Malachi took his
sweet time, the leathers opened, slid down so slowly. Hercules groaned, letting Malachi hear his
pleasure, his need. Malachi’s cock jerked, filled, the heavy prick swelling for him, for his need.
“There is no one like you, Malachi. Not here. Not anywhere.”
“I am yours.” The words were simple, well-meant, and he knew it. Malachi was his, balls
to bones.
“You are.” He undid his own trousers, his prick pushing out, eager to feel Malachi’s flesh
tight around him. “And I am yours.”
“Yes.” Malachi’s eyes were on his cock, tongue flicking out to wet the pink lips.
He spread his hands, that look making him feel like the most desirable man in the
universe. “Then take what you want.”
His lover knelt down before him, lips parting to take his cock in. Groaning, he slid his
hands through Malachi’s hair, catching the braid and bringing it up to take off the elastic on the
end. His Malachi looked tired. Pale. Like he needed marking.
He had a sudden vision of Malachi with his collar on. A simple twisted dark purple
velvet. Groaning, he pushed deeper into Malachi’s mouth.
Malachi opened for him, tongue sliding, touching him at the base of his cock. His balls
drew up against his body, the pleasure huge. The suction grew and grew, making him gasp,
making his hips jerk.
“Stop. I want to take you over your desk.”
Malachi dared to suck once more before standing, cock hard and bobbing.
“Are you ready for me?”
“I am always ready for you, sir, even when I do not expect you.” Mal turned, exposing
that tight hole, a plug filling it, stretching it.
“Malachi.” The word hissed from him, his fingers sliding over Malachi’s ass, tapping at
the thick plug. “My beautiful Malachi.”
“Yes. Yours.” Malachi’s skin was burning under his touch.
He traced his dragon, following the tail right to Malachi’s ass. Pushing, he bent Malachi
over the desk, fingers tugging at the base of the plug. Malachi spread for him, went up on tiptoe.
The plug was wide, heavy, a testament to how badly his lover needed.
He teased it out slowly, knowing how much better it would be if he made Malachi wait
just that much longer. Twisting it and letting it slide back in, he finally had it out. He could see
Malachi’s back ripple, knew that his lover longed for him, to be filled.
He slid his cock along Malachi’s crack, and then pushed right in, groaning as the tight
hole swallowed him up. All the way to the root, Malachi’s body squeezed, rippling around him.
“Yes. Oh, yes.” He slapped the side of Malachi’s ass cheek, groaning as that tight
passage rippled around him again.
The pale skin rippled, then went pink. He hit Malachi again, the sound of his hand against
Malachi’s flesh loud, cracking through the silence of the room.
Malachi stilled, head slamming back. “Sir.”
He slapped again. “Mine.”
“Yours.” So controlled.
“I want to hear you.” He used his other hand to hit Malachi’s other ass cheek.
“Sir?” Malachi jerked, moaned.
“Your sounds. I want to hear them.”
He hit harder this time, his hand stinging, a beautiful rose coloring Malachi’s skin.
Malachi’s cry rang out, filled the air. Yes. Yes, just like that. He began to fuck, hands alternately
slapping and grabbing, Malachi’s body massaging his cock.
Malachi shone with it, hands slipping on the desk, the comm unit sliding.
He fucked harder, pushing deeper into his lover. He got more and more cries, each one
telling him deeper, harder, there, more, yes. Eventually he reached around, grabbing Malachi’s
cock and holding it tight. Each thrust pushed the long prick through his fingers.
“Come for me, Malachi!”
“Master!” The word was snapped out, heat pouring over his fingers.
Malachi’s ass clamped down on him and he cried out as well, jerking as his cock sprayed
deep. Malachi panted, moaning for him.
He lay across Malachi’s back, gasping for breath.
Mal’s communit started vibrating, the man moaning.
Hercules sighed and squeezed Mal tight for a moment, dropping a kiss on his spine
before reluctantly pulling away.
“Thank you, Hercules.” Mal stood, pulled his control around him.
He reached out, pushing a strand of the long hair back behind one ear. “Thank you, my
Malachi.”
His lover nodded, eyes holding his. “Anytime.”
Yes, he knew that. Anytime at all.
Chapter Twelve
Inventory was one of those weird tasks Mal sort of enjoyed – mindless, simple, quiet. He
counted boxes of lube, rolls of leather. Cuffs. Sheets. Each one got ticked off and accounted for.
His comm buzzed. It was Hercules.
“Hey boss. What’s up?” Forty cases of nu-skin …
“I need to see you – where are you?”
“In the inventory room.”
“All right. I’m on my way down.” With that the link went dead.
He chuckled and kept working. He’d know if Herc was pissed and the Boss had sounded
good.
Eventually he heard Herc’s voice, giving orders. “I want the main dining room set up for
a huge party next week. Everyone is invited. Everyone.”
“Absolutely, Hercules. Any special decorations?” Kestrel followed the Boss in, hands
filled with a tray. “You haven’t eaten all day, Mal.”
He smiled at Kes. “Worrywart.”
“It’s what I’m good at.”
“I’ll leave the decorations to you, though there should be lots of purple of course.” Herc’s
eyes found his, full of heat and something else that looked very much like passion, love.
“Having a party, Boss?” He fought his body’s urge to harden, to reach for his lover.
“I hope so, but it will be up to you.” Herc took a step closer and held himself stiffly,
fiddling with something in his pocket.
“Boss?” He stood from where he was kneeling, concerned. “What’s wrong?” What had
happened?
Hercules cleared his throat. “Nothing’s wrong.” The man chuckled softly. “Suddenly I’m
nervous.”
Pulling a purple leather collar out of his pocket, Hercules handed it over. “I’d like you to
wear this, Malachi. I don’t want anyone looking at you and not knowing that you belong to
someone. That you belong to me.”
He gasped, but his sound wasn’t anywhere near as loud as Kestrel’s. “Hercules?” They’d
discussed this; what had changed?
“You are important to me, Malachi. And this is my club. I’m tired of having to hide.”
Hercules gave him and Kestrel both a look. “Anyone who doesn’t believe Malachi can be both
my best top and my best bottom can spend an hour under Malachi’s lash. If they dare.”
Kestrel blinked, then that smiled broke out, complete with teary eyes and fluttering
hands. “Oh. Oh, Mal. Oh, my friend. I’m so happy for you! Why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t
have to lie. I would have supported you.”
“Kes.” The mouth kept going, Kes jabbering, and Mal reached out, shook the thin body a
bit. “Kes. Shut up.”
Hercules growled a little. “Well? Are you going to wear it?”
He looked over, staring into Hercules’ eyes. “You’re sure? You want people to know
about me?”
“I want everyone to know about you. I want them to know I love you.” The words were
fiercely spoken.
“Then I have no shame in allowing the universe to know I am yours.” He lifted his chin,
holding Hercules’ eyes.
Hercules smiled. “Mine.” The long fingers slid the collar around his neck, the ends
sliding together with a click.
“Yours.” He swallowed hard, knees actually buckling a little bit. “Hercules. Sir.”
Kestrel sobbed softly. “Oh. Oh, congratulations. Oh, I …”
Hercules ignored Kes, arms wrapping around him, mouth landing on his. The kiss burned
him to the bone, the way the first one had, so long ago. Claiming him. Hercules’ fingers slid
along the collar, following the circle, leaving a trail of fire behind.
He fought his groan, fought the urge to arch and beg for that touch, that will to be
exercised on him.
Their mouths parted, Hercules making a satisfied sound and smiling at him. Then his
lover turned, amusement filling the violet eyes. “Kestrel? I want everyone to be there when I
introduce my lover. You have a lot to prepare – I think you should go get started. Shut the door
on your way out, please.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. I. I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed. Oh, Mal. I’m so happy for
you!”
He chuckled. “It is good, to have friends.”
“It is. And you may congratulate him properly later, Kestrel.” Hercules was obviously
trying his very hardest to be patient, but Mal could feel the heat coming from his lover’s body,
could see the pure need in those violet eyes.
“Yes, Herc. I. Mal.”
“Go, Kes. Go before I beat you bloody and make Jim growl.”
Kestrel squeaked and fluttered out, the door sealing behind him.
Hercules laughed, and then pushed him up against a cupboard, taking his mouth hard. He
opened, one hand going up to touch his …
His collar.
His collar.
Hercules’ hips pushed into his, ground him against the wall, as one long-fingered hand
tangled with his at his collar.
“Yours.” His heart was pounding and he dragged Hercules’ hand down to the ring behind
his balls. “Yours.”
Their hands pushed into his pants, and Hercules tugged on the ring. “Mine. Always. For
everyone to know.”
This sound started growing inside him, burning, aching, so big he fought to keep it in.
Yes. Yes, always. One finger pushed into his hole, spearing him, opening him. He arched, nipped
Hercules on his lip.
“Tell me what you want, my Malachi.”
“You. I want your will, your command. Your collar.”
“You have it.” Hercules’ fingers pressed on his shoulders, urging him down to his knees.
He knelt easily, hands sliding over Hercules’ thighs. “You are beautiful,” Hercules told him,
fingers sliding through his hair. He could smell Hercules’ need, see the bulge beneath the violet
leggings.
“I am yours.” He leaned forward, breathing against his lover’s prick.
Hercules’ finger slipped beneath his chin, turning his head back up. He found the violet
eyes staring down at him. “You are mine.” Long fingers slid along his collar.
His cock jerked, throbbed, his skin burning, feeling too tight. “Yes.”
Hercules’ hand landed on his head and tugged his face against the hard, covered prick.
“Suck me.”
He growled, partially in need, partially in surprise, his lips open, tongue wetting the violet
leather. The long fingers slowly worked open the ties, exposing Hercules’ cock inch by inch. His
tongue traced the heavy veins, wet the thin, silky skin. A low moan came from Hercules, one
hand dropping to hold onto his shoulder. Hercules’ scent rose up around him.
“Mine.” He wrapped his lips around Hercules’ cock, sucking the tip, pulling on it.
Hercules jerked, fingers curling hard into his shoulders. “Yes. Everyone will know that
now, too.”
“Does that please you?” He met Hercules’ eyes, heart in his throat.
“It does, Malachi.” Hercules bent and brought their mouths together again, tongue
pushing in. The planet stopped still, Hercules’ fingers pushing hard enough to bruise. “I want
you. I want to fill you.”
He met Hercules’ gaze. “Then take me.”
A low growl met his words, Hercules pulling him up and spinning him so he was facing
the wall. The long, strong body pushed up against him, cock grinding against his ass through his
leathers.
He pushed back, rumbling, needing Hercules to do this, take him, make him submit.
Strong hips jerked him back into the wall, Hercules’ fingers tugging on his laces and then
dragging the leather down his hips. His cock filled so fast that his balls ached and his belly went
tight.
“Just because I gave you my collar, doesn’t mean I’ve gone soft.” The words were
accompanied by smacks, Hercules’ hand landing on his bared ass.
“Good.” He arched back, demanding it. Needing it.
The slaps continued, Hercules varying the speed and strength of each one, keeping him
off guard. It took a bit of time before he found his submission, before his tension and his worries
eased and all he felt was his Hercules.
And Hercules knew the moment it happened, the slaps easing, kisses warming his neck.
“I don’t have to ask. I know you’re ready for me.”
He nodded, body ready, relaxed, empty. Hercules grabbed his ass cheeks and spread
them, entering him with a single, long stroke. His hands landed on the wall, his body stretching,
spreading.
“Mmm … tight. Mine. Malachi.” Hercules’ hips snapped, pushing into him hard, cock
hitting his gland.
He grunted, groaned. “Yours.”
“That’s right.” Teeth sank into his neck below the collar, Hercules biting him hard,
marking him where anyone could see.
Mal’s eyes flew open, body going tight in pure shock. “Hercules!”
Hercules didn’t stop, though, just continued to worry his skin. Hercules’ mark. He
groaned, working his lover’s cock, floating with it.
Hands hard on his hips, Hercules pushed into him harder, faster. Those hot lips finally let
go of his skin and Hercules made a deep sound of satisfaction.
“Yours. Yours, Master. Sir. Love.”
Love.
“Yes. Yes, Malachi!” Hercules’ hand grabbed his cock, pulling hard. “I love you.”
He knew.
He’d always known.
It was all he’d needed.
“Together,” murmured Hercules. The hand around his cock tightened and Hercules bit at
his collar, making it tight. “Now.”
“Yes. Yes.” He bucked, eyes rolling as heat sprayed from him.
Even as he emptied his balls, Hercules filled him, heat pushing deep inside.
Hercules held him up, throat working, moving against the collar. “Come upstairs. I want
to see how you look in nothing but that collar.”
“Yes, sir.” Yes. Nothing but Hercules’ collar and Hercules’ marks.
It was a good start.
Epilogue
Kestrel had pestered him with a thousand picky little details. Everything from the time
the party should start to what color the plates should be. He’d finally growled and told Kestrel to
just do it and not involve him. He wanted to show everyone how he felt about Malachi, the rest
was just details. And details were why he’d hired Kestrel in the first place.
“Malachi? Are you ready to go?”
“I am.” Malachi entered the room, wearing his dark leathers, hair blindingly pale, collar
bright on the pale throat.
The man was stunning, arousing. His.
“You’ve left the plug in, I hope.” They’d had an amazing night, Malachi chained to the
ceiling while he wielded his whip. They’d made love after and he’d filled Malachi with a wicked
plug.
One white eyebrow rose, arching. “Boss.”
He grinned and swatted Malachi’s ass, knowing it would shift the plug. Malachi’s
chuckle was trapped within a moan, body rippling in his leathers.
“Don’t tempt me, Malachi. We’re already quite fashionably late to our own party.” Of
course he wanted to make sure everyone was there to hear his introduction of his lover.
“Everyone knows I am never late, Hercules.”
“Then today must be my fault.” He winked at Malachi and led the way to the lifts,
ignoring how much he wanted the man.
Malachi’s hand slid against the back of his, just the barest touch. He turned his hand to
grab Malachi’s. It gave him a thrill, holding Malachi’s hand in public here at the Glove. His
lover’s steps faltered a bit, those icy eyes staring at him in shock.
“Malachi? I am throwing a party to introduce you to our friends and family as my lover.”
He reached up and stroked Malachi’s collar. “While I don’t expect you to suddenly turn into an
emotional flutterer like Kestrel, I will hold your hand and touch you when I need to.”
“I’m sorry, Boss. It’s simply what I know to do, to hide this part of me.”
“I know.” He stepped into the lift as the doors opened, bringing Malachi with him. “I
thought it was the best for the club. I thought the club was the most important thing in my life.”
He’d been wrong.
“And is this going to hurt the Glove?”
“Like I told Kestrel – if anyone doubts your ability to be the premiere top they can spend
an hour under your lash.” He looked into the icy blue eyes. “Besides, you need this. We need
this. And that is more important than the club.”
Malachi searched his eyes, and then he got a slow, burning smile. “I could use some whip
practice.”
“I wouldn’t mind watching that.” It would get him all worked up and then he could drag
Malachi off for some whip practice of his own. “We’re strong, powerful men, Malachi. We will
make the club and what we need work together.”
He pulled Malachi in against his chest and took a hard kiss. Malachi’s fingers tangled in
his hair, held him close, that need right under the surface. He would have pushed Malachi up
against the wall of the lift and ground their bodies together, except that he knew they only had
moments before the doors opened on the main floor.
So he pulled back, smoothing the beautiful pale hair down over Malachi’s shoulders,
fingers coming back to stroke the warm leather of his collar on Malachi’s neck. “Are you happy,
Malachi?”
Malachi’s eyes held his, sure, steady. “I am. I … Boss? Are you going to want me up
with you?”
“Yes.” He chuckled wryly. “I may have already taken care of that …” There were movers
packing Malachi’s stuff to move up to his suite as they spoke. An outside, discreet firm of
course.
“Oh.” Malachi searched his eyes, the intensity burning him to the core. “Thank you, sir.”
“You will never doubt again that I am proud to have you beneath my whip and at my
side, Malachi. I make you that promise.”
“Then I have what I need.”
“And then so do I.”
He held Malachi’s gaze until the lift stopped, the doors sliding open.
THE END
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