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Sir seemed particularly interested in a demonstration of sounding that was taking place in a corner nearest to the windows. He and Kit watched and discussed what they were seeing as a feminine dom in perfect make-up slipped a thin, metal rod into a bear sub’s cock. Jamie was more interested in how the sub had been duct taped to the table where he lay so that he couldn’t move his hips, and how he was moaning and growling and sweating as the sub moved the rod in and out with quick thrusts.
Jamie had had sounding done to him before and had really liked it, but it took a steady hand and a lot of experience to keep it from causing serious harm. He wondered if Kit had taught Sir how to do it, and if they—
“Well, aren’t you looking pretty and debauched tonight?”
Ronny’s smug voice snapped Jamie right out of his thoughts and made him twist to see where his ex was without being given permission to move. Kit and Sir turned as well.
Ronny snorted. “If he were still mine, I would punish him hard for moving like that. Unless it was to drop to his knees to suck me off.” He smirked at Jamie. “Just proving my point that you still need me to keep you in line, eh, boy?”
Jamie swallowed his sick feeling but felt frozen in place. Ronny was a first-rate arsehole, and no one in the room would have faulted him for breaking the scene to tell him off. His possessiveness wasn’t play at all, and Jamie wanted nothing more than to reiterate what he’d said earlier about all the reasons he was done with him.
But an even greater part of him didn’t want to shatter Sir’s illusions or make him doubt the connection that the two of them had forged. He felt a deep sense of responsibility for Sir’s pleasure, and that went so far beyond giving him his body to play with. Sir needed the fantasy, he needed the play, and his needs might just be more important. Even if Jamie’s pride took a hit.
He was rescued from the moment of paralysis by Kit’s sharp, “Why don’t you go fuck off, Ronny.”
Ronny turned a glare on Kit. “This doesn’t concern you, Christopher,” he said, using Kit’s full name to denigrate him. Which was doubly insulting, considering the anonymity rules for the weekend.
“I could have you sent packing,” Kit said in a low voice.
“Not when I’m one of the financial backers for the weekend,” Ronny growled right back.
And there it was. The reason everyone tolerated Ronny when they knew he was a colossal prick. It was the same reason Ronny believed he could always get what he wanted. Money.
Jamie clenched his jaw, wishing he could somehow wipe out Ronny’s bank account so his old flame would lose the thing he used to gain respect.
Kit didn’t have a ready reply to Ronny’s rebuttal, so Ronny turned his attention back to Jamie. “Look at you,” he said with a sneer. “Making yet another bad choice by letting this toddler lead you around.”
Jamie sucked in a breath, desperate to fight back.
“This is why I worry about you, darling,” Ronny went on. “Humiliating yourself with a baby dom is a serious red flag. You need help. Let me help you. Let me put your life back in order before you start cutting—”
He had reached out to Jamie with his words, like he would grab his harness, but Sir shot out a hand and stopped his movements and his words by grasping his wrist.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to touch my boy,” he interrupted in a voice that was as icy as steel.
Jamie had a hard time keeping his shock from his face, especially when Ronny’s eyes went wide and he looked at Sir like he was just seeing him for the first time.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Ronny demanded, snatching his arm back from Sir and rubbing his wrist. Sir’s grip must have been tight.
“I’m J’s master,” Sir answered, strong and steady.
Ronny laughed sourly. “He was mine when you were still sucking off the smarter boys in sixth form.”
Sir narrowed his eyes and took hold of Jamie’s harness while looking at Ronny. He pushed Jamie just a bit with an unspoken command to kneel. Jamie was more than happy to go instantly to his knees for him, settling into the perfect kneeling pose. Obeying with perfection for Sir was absolutely the best way to give Ronny the finger. Sir then gave Ronny a look like he was asking him who the master was now.
It was harder to see Ronny’s expression from his knees on the floor, especially since he kept his head slightly bowed out of respect, but Jamie was sure Ronny was seething at the turn of events.
Ronny snorted a laugh. “Cute,” he said, still trying to be as dismissive as possible. “I taught him that, you know,” he said. “I’m the one who taught him true obedience. I’m the one who saved his life.”
“Oh?” Sir said, resting a hand on Jamie’s head. “Is that why he left you?”
God, it was hard not to smile and gloat. He hadn’t told Sir much of anything, but the clever young man was making educated guesses and hitting the nail on the head.
Ronny shifted and balled his hands into fists. “He’ll come back,” he said. “He always does. Over and over. He knows I’m the only one who can give him his fix,” Ronny went on. “I’m the only one who truly loves him.”
As much as Jamie wanted to seethe with resentment over those remarks, they pinched his gut with emotion. Ronny believed what he was saying, and once upon a time, it had been true.
Once upon a time.
