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Not Nathan’s finest moment. His self-control had snapped after watching Todd throw that drink in Carter’s face. He had managed to hold off for a few minutes, but his hands had been itching to get on the boy, to touch him, to comfort him. Nathan was fucking desperate to just get a moment with the boy alone. When he hadn’t come back by the time Nathan found a lull in the conversation, he took the opportunity to excuse himself and go find him.
He hadn’t meant to fuck Carter, but he had seen him there, so damn beautiful and perfect andgood, and hurting despite it all, and he had to make him feel better. It was supposed to be just a kiss and some praise, but once he had the boy in his arms, Nathan was dizzy with need. He couldn’t stop.
“Yes,” Nathan finally says. He quirks his lips at Carter, his emotions still conflicted on the event. “It killed me to watch someone else touch you.”
“You could… not do it again.” Carter says the words carefully, lightly, like he’s handling a bomb.
Nathan’s heart races. He wants that. Oh god, he wants that sobadly.
He had let Todd use Carter. He doesn’t see himself needing to use him again for any other business arrangements. Todd is one of the final pieces, as long as things go as Nathan plans, and the only other man he’ll need to influence can be swayed in other ways. There’s the issue of his promise to allow his men to use Carter for rewards, but he’s the one who decides if something is worth a reward in the first place. Nathan can be a hard ass. He can act like no one is impressive enough to touch his prized possession.
It’s not what he and Maison agreed to.
It’s not what the elusive boss ordered.
But… what they don’t know won’t kill them, right?
“I’m sorry, sir,” Carter says in a voice that trembles. The boy steps away from him, putting his body beneath the spray of the water. His gaze is locked on his feet. He looks like he’s wavering on the decision to kneel and beg for forgiveness. Nathan took too long to respond. He got lost in his head. Now the boy is afraid. “I didn’t mean-”
“Shhh.” Nathan wraps an arm around him, pressing a big hand to the small of the boy’s naked back and gently pulling him closer. He’s even more endearing now, water dripping seductively down his body, begging Nathan to lick it up. “You’re not in trouble. I’ve decided I’m going to consider it.”
Carter’s chin snaps up, eyes wide. “Really?”
“Yes. I’ve learned I’m a very jealous and possessive man. You’re mine, after all. If I don’t want to share you, I don’t have to.” Nathan drops his hand just enough for his fingertips to brush the curve of the boy’s ass cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Carter firmly nods. “Yes, sir. I’ll be so good for you, sir. I’ll make the decision worth it, I swear.”
“I know.” Nathan forces himself to step back, knowing he’s going to do something stupid if he doesn’t get at least a little bit of distance from the naked, dripping boy. “And it’s Nathan, remember, sweetheart? Just Nathan.”
Carter, being the death of Nathan that he apparently is, just follows Nathan to close the space. Nathan’s breath hitches. His hard cock rubs against the boy’s stomach. In his defense, he tried to give him space.
Those big blue eyes train on his face, damp eyelashes batting. Nathan wants to fucking devour him. “Nathan?”
“Yes?”
“May I wash you?”
Jesus Christ, this boy reallyisgoing to be the fucking death of him.
“Absolutely.” Nathan reaches for the washcloth he had grabbed before getting into the shower earlier, handing it to Carter. He starts to reach for his soap next, but Carter beats him to it. The boy blushes when Nathan arches an eyebrow at him. “How’d you know that’s mine?”
“It, um… I used it last night. It smells like you.”
A wave of possessiveness overwhelms Nathan. This boy, even as upset as he was, had washed himself with Nathan’s go-to soap, spending the night smelling of him. “Do you like how I smell, sweetheart?”
Carter focusesveryintently on his cloth and bottle of soap. “Yes, s -Nathan.”
“I like the thought of you smelling like me. I like that quite a lot, actually.”
“Um,” is all the boy manages to say. His cheeks go darker red. Then he shifts focus. “Why do you have multiple soaps anyway?”
The question fills Nathan with a mixture of guilt and shame, but he answers anyway. “The white bottle is pretty harsh and doesn’t smell that great, but it’s much better at cleaning certain… things.”
“Things.” Carter nods to himself, squirting Nathan’s usual soap onto the cloth and rubbing it into the fabric. “Like… blood and stuff?”
“Yes,” Nathan admits. “Blood and stuff.”
“Do I even want to know what the third bottle is for?”
