“This is only short-term.”
Sloan laughed. “No. You’ll be my long-term pet.”
Conall’s handsome face flushed, and his heated glare might have scared a weaker man, but Sloan had faced the kinds of enemies Conall would never be able to imagine.
He opened his mouth, but Sloan held up his hand, effectively silencing him. “You will be my long-term pet. I’ll give you one day a week where you can do what you like, but every other day you’remine. I will do with you what I please. If I want your arse, you’ll bend over and give it to me. If I want you to suck me off, you’ll get on your knees and let me fuck your mouth.” He paused, stepping closer to Conall until he reached him. Sloan stroked his clean-shaven jaw and leaned closer until he was whispering in his ear. “If you can’t agree with this, then I will slit your brother’s throat in front of you, and then I’ll stick my blade in your chest and watch you slowly bleed out.”
Conall’s jaw tightened, his lips twisting as he fought for control. He looked at Sloan, those pretty, defiant eyes furious. “I’m going to make your life hell.”
Sloan laughed, deep and real. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard. “I can’t wait.” He moved away and signaled to his security that they were on the move. “Let’s go.”
Conall glanced between his brother and Sloan. “I need to pack.”
“You don’t need your clothes. I’ll buy you some.” Sloan rolled his shoulders and spun on his heel, expecting Conall to follow him. He didn’t.
“I’m not your sugar baby.”
He paused near the door and cocked his head toward Conall. “No, but you’re my pet, and you will follow my orders. Come.”
The twitch in his jaw was a lovely sight. There was something beautiful about taming a wild dog, and that’s what Conall was to him. He’d had pets before, but they never lasted long. They couldn’t handle what Sloan dished out, but he already saw the difference between them and Conall. This man caused Sloan’s loins to stir, and that was without Sloan even seeing him naked.
“Come, pet.” Sloan held out his hand toward him.
The young man exhaled, straightened his back, and peered at the whore he’d fucked before.
The whore smiled sadly, but one look from Sloan and he dropped his eyes. At least he wasn’t stupid.
“I saidcome.” Sloan’s patience was wearing thin, and he didn’t want to punish his pet on their first day together, but he would if he had to.
Conall cursed and stomped toward him, his scuffed shoes thumping on the ground dramatically. If Sloan wasn’t amused by the action, he might have put his pet over his knee and spanked him. Instead, he spun on his heel and strode out of the manor and toward their sleek black BMWs. His main bodyguard, Henry, waited beside the car, and when Sloan reached him, he opened the back door for him.
Sloan slipped inside and let Henry close the door behind him. Conall paused near the car, but Henry gestured for him to follow him around to the other side. Sloan’s pet trailed behind and fell into the leather seat when Henry opened the door.
He shifted, making the leather squeak beneath him, and crossed his arms over his chest. The dark blue suit looked too small on him, with the material stretching around his upper arms, and Sloan made a mental note to get his tailor to make Conall a couple of new suits. If he wanted his pet to come to business meetings with him, he needed to look respectable.
“Stop fidgeting,” Sloan commanded.
His pet turned his glare on him. “If I want to fucking fidget, I will.”
Sloan rolled his eyes and reached over to the small bar set up between them. He opened a compartment and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “Don’t curse, either. You can make a point without adding curse words. They make you seem undignified, and as my pet, you willnotbe crass.”
“What is this? Church?” Conall snatched a tumbler from the bar and held it toward Sloan. “I need a fucking drink.”
Sloan laughed. “No, pet, you don’t get a drink. My pets don’t get rewards for their bad behavior.”
He snorted, but when he realized Sloan was serious, the fury returned to darken his handsome face. “Are you serious? This is fucked.”
Sloan tutted, pouring himself a drink before he returned the cap to the bottle and replaced it in its former spot. He took a sip, savoring the burn down his throat when he swallowed it. “Learn some manners and you’ll be rewarded.”
“I’m not a child,” he hissed.
“No, but you are my pet.” Sloan smirked at him and took another sip. “Mm. That’s nice. I do love the burn of the whiskey.”
Conall muttered something under his breath.
“What was that, pet?”
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” He dropped his tumbler on the floor beside his feet and slammed his back against the seat.
