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Everyone else seems to notice Travis too then, scattering to their spots at the breakfast table or off to do their duties if they’re not important enough to eat with the rest of us. I move to where Travis is standing, keeping my voice lowered. “I texted you.”
He winces, his hand fluttering toward his pocket where I know he keeps his phone. “My fault. Should’ve looked. Sorry.”
“It was his idea,” I add, feeling a little defensive. I don’t like the short way Travis is speaking to me. Or the way he won’t meet my eyes. Or the glare Carter shot me a second ago. I decide to try a different route, even if it’s a lie. I don’t think Travis would appreciate knowing that Casey is doing this to help me, so I bring Carter into it instead. Travis would do anything for him. “He wanted to be here for Carter.”
Travis’s expression softens immediately, but he winces again. “He’ll have to…” he gestures awkwardly, as if his hand can finish the sentence for him.
I know exactly what he’s referring to though. At the very least, Casey will have to warm my cock today. “He knows.”
He gives me a final look of worry before nodding and heading to the table. With a gentle tug of the leash connected to Casey’s collar, I guide him in the same direction, taking my seat in my usual spot and tugging again to get him to settle between my legs. My hands tremble as I undo my jeans, and I fucking hate myself as I pull my soft cock out and reach a hand to cup the back of Casey’s head.
His breath is warm as it brushes over my skin. I shiver, unable to stop myself from looking down at him just as he darts his tongue out to grab the head of my cock and bring it into his open mouth. My stomach swoops, torn between guilty arousal and self-hatred. His pretty blue eyes flick up to meet my gaze, holding me hostage as he takes my cock deeper, until it’s fully settled on his hot tongue.
“Good,” I rasp, not caring if anyone hears me praising the beautiful boy between my knees. “That’s real good. Just like that.”
He shivers, his eyes fluttering shut, and gently suckles. My chest constricts, my head swimming with wants and needs and things I’ll never be able to have.
“Just warming,” I remind him, figuring he might have forgotten what I explained before because of how anxious he must be. But his shoulders drop like he’s… disappointed?
I don’t let myself dwell on the possibility of that.
It’s much safer that way.
Having Casey’s mouth around my cock on and off throughout the day is a special kind of torture. I have no fucking idea how Travis has done this so much with Carter, especially when their relationship was crumbling and they could barely stand looking at each other.
I try my best to keep Casey as comfortable as possible. Any chance I get, I have us tucked away in my office, him hanging out under my desk. Unfortunately, I don’t have a closed desk like Travis and my office tends to be a popular place, the men coming to me for all sorts of shit throughout the day, so Casey still has to kneel without a pillow and my pants have to stay undone so he can take my cock into his mouth whenever the door opens.
It’s a decent system, and I lock the door every hour or so to let him stretch out and take some sips of water or bites of trail mix. It breaks my heart every time I do it, his eyes huge like he’s shocked I'm still being so kind to him. Even knowing the truth, it’s so confusing to him that I’d care for him like this. He mumbled the first time, “I can kneel for a lot longer than that…” but I had hushed him.
When I lock the door for lunch and sit him on the edge of the desk, letting him eat his sandwich while I gently rub his knees, thighs, and shoulders, he finally seems to accept the care. He even smiles for me, despite his cheeks turning deliciously pink as I work my way through his tense muscles. I want to take a bite out of him. Multiple bites. I want to devour him.
Instead, I sit back in the chair and eat my own sandwich like the good boy I’m supposed to be.
By the time we’ve eaten dinner and settled in the common area to enjoy some sports and bullshit with the men, I’m emotionally wrung out and ready to crawl into bed with him. Knowing the night’s events that I still have ahead of me just makes it worse. The urge to drown myself in the nearest bottle of alcohol lingers in my mind, but I don’t let myself consider it. Drinking wouldn’t be fair to Maison. I have to be on my game tonight, even if it kills me.
I drown myself in Casey instead, pulling him into my lap so we’re facing each other. It’s better this way since the show currently occurring in the center of the room isn’t one I want the boy to have to witness. He still startles every time he hears the slave cry out or sob, but his eyes never leave mine, almost like he’s drowning in me too.
I let myself slowly appreciate him as if I’m an owner enamored with his new slave, stroking the soft skin of his thighs and hips and arms. I run my fingers through his messy hair. I press feather-soft kisses to his throat and shoulders and the insides of his wrists.
“Teach him any fun tricks yet?” Chris asks, plopping into the chair beside mine.
I have to fight not to wince or growl or flip him off, forcing a mischievous grin instead. “We’re going slow. DuGray did a number on him. I’m not a fan of the slave he molded him into. Might take a while to retrain him.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t just get a fresh one.” Chris shakes his head, his gaze critical of Casey. The boy behaves well, keeping his shoulders squared and his chin tucked, not reacting to us talking about him like he’s not a person. “Though he is really fucking pretty. Was he a jock?”
I nod. “A swimmer.”
“Big, beautiful boys make the prettiest broken things, don’t they?”
Casey’s eyes squeeze shut, but nothing else changes. I tighten my grip on his hips to try and remind him I’m here for him. To remind him that this isn’t real. That nothing these men say about him could ever be true. I’m not sure if it registers.
Refusing to risk making things worse, I ignore his question and refocus the conversation. “I don’t mind the challenge of retraining. A fresh one would have gotten boring fast. This one will take work. He’s eager to learn though, aren’t you, slave?”
Casey’s muscles twitch beneath my fingers before he opens his eyes to stare at my tie. “Yes, Master.”
“Let’s teach him something,” Chris says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
For fuck’s sake.
