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“Good.” I take a deep breath and force a smile. “Now tell me what I need to know to be a good slave for you.”
He looks down for a moment before lifting his gaze to meet mine again. His hand on my neck squeezes. Not a threat, but a reassurance. Who he’s reassuring, I’m not sure. “That can wait until tomorrow. I think tonight I’d like something else.”
My voice cracks as I manage to ask, “Oh?”
“That book you were reading. The one about werewolves.” Wait… what? “Can I read it to you?”
“That…” I pause, a slow smile curling my lips. “That actually sounds really nice. Yes."
Chapter Eighteen
Jake
He’s perfect.
I knew he would be, of course. The boy is stunningly beautiful and so fucking good it’s unfair. But it still manages to catch me by surprise when I come out of the bathroom to find him kneeling in the perfect position, the collar I never wanted to have to put back on him now balanced in his outstretched hands. I swallow hard at the sight, telling my cock it’s not allowed to like this. It’s pretend. He’s not really ours. Keep it together you needy fucker.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask, trying not to think about the fact that the anal plug I gave him before my shower is no longer in sight. Trying not to picture his hole, glistening and stuffed full.
“I’m sure.” He lifts the collar. “Please, Master.”
I flinch. God, I hate that. I never wanted to hear him call me that again.
“Casey, you know that anything I say or do-”
“I know.” He drops his hands, letting the collar rest in his lap. He manages to smile, but it’s wobbly with fear and anxiety. “It’s all an act. It’s okay.”
“Nothing about this is okay,” I whisper as I lower into a crouch and take the collar from him. It’s a standard collar with plain black leather, a gaudy d-ring, and a bit of padding on the inside. I’ve never wanted a boy of mine to be collared when I’ve let myself fantasize about being a daddy, but if they wanted a collar, it’d be something much prettier than this. Something delicate and beautiful. Especially if that boy was Casey. “Lift your chin for me.”
He obeys easily, his breath catching the moment he feels the collar against his skin. I make sure it’s not too tight before securing the clasp and adding the tiny lock that everyone would expect to see on the back of it. I stroke my thumb along his jaw after, wanting to reward him for enduring this. “I’ve got you, little one. You're safe. I promise.”
"And you - you never break your promises.”
I nod, glad he remembered. Glad he believes me. “I always keep my promises.”
“Okay.” He takes a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the leash and clip it to the ring on the front of his collar. I see the change in him the moment it clicks, his shoulders falling - not because he’s relaxed, but because he’s defeated.
I’ve never hated myself more.
The men are like fucking vultures. The minute they zero in on the elusive slave I’ve been keeping hidden away, they’re hurrying over to get a good look.
“This is him?” Jason asks, raising an eyebrow at the boy at my feet.
“He was DuGray’s, right?” Chris asks.
Donavan tilts his head, eyeing him. “Yeah, I remember him from the party. He looks mighty fine with all his holes stuffed and dripping.”
Movement out the corner of my eye draws my attention. It’s Travis. And by the look on his face, he didn’t get my text warning him about this. I have to focus when I hear a hand smacking against skin, looking back just in time to see Chris patting Casey’s cheek a little too hard as he says, “Looks like you found a pretty little slut for yourself, man.”
I eye the hand, knowing it’s right on the line of inappropriate but also knowing Chris is supposedly my friend and saying something might not be worth the drama. I grit my teeth before forcing a smile. “Isn’t he?”
“A little used up and scarred for my taste,” Jason says with a sneer.
I sense Casey curling in on himself at my feet. It makes me want to empty an entire magazine of bullets into Jason’s forehead. I settle for narrowing my eyes at him instead. “He’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. And don’t worry, Jason. He’s plenty fucking tight still. How nice of you to be worried about my pleasure, though.”
Jason gives me a dirty look before glancing over my shoulder at who I assume is Travis. He straightens his back, probably remembering the threat that if the men don’t handle Casey’s presence well, none of them will ever get to have a slave of their own.
