At His Throat, a Promise (24 page)

“So how did you win him over?” Ellis asked, though he was certain he knew the answer.

Harte"s sinful grin told him he was right. “I let him do pretty much whatever he wants to me. When they have us spend time alone, he likes to tie me up. Apparently no other slaves trust him enough to do that, but when I first met him, it was actually easier for me. Because of… what happened, I was still nervous around new people like that. It was better to just let go.” Just like with his foot caning, he"d begged to be tied. It did make things easier, took the weight of responsibility off the bound person.

Ellis wondered if he could let Alastair do that to him. He didn"t trust the other slave at all, but if his new plan were to work, he had to get Alastair on his side.

“Almost done,” Harte said, wriggling the wand through Ellis"s eyelashes.

Harte declared the masterpiece complete, and Ellis blinked to get used to the strange bulkiness of his eyelashes. He swore he could actually
see
whatever was on them, but Harte assured him that would go away.

When the little artist scampered off the vanity and into his own room to finish getting ready, Ellis looked at himself in the mirror.

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He did look beautiful, almost eerily so. The black kohl made his pale eyes seem much lighter, which gave him an otherworldly look. Only a darker ring of grey around his irises kept his eyes from seeming all pupil.

Ellis sucked on his lips to bring colour and fullness while brushing his hair to a sheen. Throwing his towel in the hamper, he donned his sheath and hesitated just a moment. If he did this, tried to find a way to belong to Alex and Alastair, this might be one of the last times he saw Harte or William. Alex might take him away.

But they were staying all weekend—and surely Alex would give him time to say a proper good-bye.

Ellis felt much better, having a plan.

He found Harte dithering over two sheaths that were identical unless you were close enough to see the stitching on one was rather floral, and the other more geometric.

Not even bothering to mention that no one would notice the difference, Ellis left Harte to his dilemma. He found the master in the dining room, poring over what seemed to be account books and ignoring the array of breakfast foods on the table.

“Is there any way I can assist, Sir?” he asked. The master looked a little strained; could that be because he thought Ellis might be leaving with his friend?

William rose to his feet, a strange look on his face. Ellis almost looked behind himself to see what the master could be staring at so intently.

It was only when William"s hand came up to cup his cheek that Ellis remembered the makeup, and no amount of training could stop him from blushing. Harte was right: he
did
feel sluttish.

Wanton, even. He licked his lips, and William tracked the movement avidly, bringing back that rush of power.

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William"s hand threaded through his hair, settling on the back of his neck. As Harte had earlier, Ellis arched against the master, letting his eyes fall half-closed. He didn"t like manipulating—it wasn"t really in his nature; he preferred to observe—but there was no arguing with the result. William looked enraptured.

“He looks amazing, doesn"t he?”

It was Harte"s voice, and Ellis wondered about whether or not it was unwanted. He should be focusing his attentions on Alex, but he
wanted
William.

Want was a very dangerous thing for a slave.

He stepped away, bowing his head. William blinked and was his old, stiff self again.

“It"s getting late,” he said. “Let"s eat before they get here.” Ellis remembered that the last time Alastair and Alex had visited, Harte had worn makeup but William had seemed unaffected. That had clearly been a ruse, for he couldn"t stop staring both at Harte and himself. Ellis caught his eyes many times before looking away, knowing it seemed coquettish.

Harte was oblivious, for once, to William"s attraction, and just continued to eat in silence.

“Master, if I may?”

“Go ahead, Harte.” William sometimes seemed confused when Harte asked for permission to speak, but he would get used to it.

Ellis had to admit that Harte"s turnabout had been both quick and impressive; he just hoped the other boy could keep it up without losing who he was. The way Ellis sometimes feared he, himself, would.

“I was thinking maybe Ellis and Alastair could spend some time together. I"m sure if they did, things could be more…

comfortable.”

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Harte said
comfortable
like he was talking about sex. William looked thoughtful and eyed Ellis speculatively. Ellis tried to looked interested—not put off by the idea, but not overly eager, either.

“What do you think, Ellis?”

“Anything to soothe relations,” he said, making the words sound more sensual than they naturally were.

“Do you feel like you"d be able to abide by the rules?” Ellis barely contained a scoff. “I won"t have a problem obeying you, Sir.”

William nodded. “All right. So no kissing on the mouths and no penetrative or oral sex.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“But you can use fingers, remember!” Harte said brightly and then flushed. “I"m sorry, Master.”

William didn"t look upset; he looked relieved. He reached over and tugged on a strand of Harte"s hair in a playful gesture that should have seemed out of place but was somehow right at home.

“No, you"re correct, Harte. Thank you for reminding me.” Harte"s brilliant smile wasn"t enough to stop Ellis from shuddering at the thought of Alastair"s fingers inside him.

* * *

Alex had greeted Ellis with obvious approval, but nothing to really indicate that he was considering keeping him. Ellis didn"t let that bother him, however, and tried to be as charming as he knew how. Which wasn"t very.

But Alex had obviously been impressed by Ellis"s appearance, 206

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because he"d said as much. In fact, he"d used the word Alastair used: pretty.

When Alex had said it, Ellis had felt sexy. Hearing it from Alastair"s mouth made him feel dirty. But he had decided to really try to see the situation from Alastair"s perspective. He didn"t want to share; as much as Ellis shouldn"t, he understood that. That was all that was between them, really. Alastair had been needlessly cruel, had pushed him too fast during sex, had been too rough when it had been a while since Ellis had been penetrated, but no more than a master would do. Much less than a cruel master would do.

“Thank you,” he said demurely.

Alastair was the type of slave who was really just a master in training. He didn"t enjoy the submission like Harte, and he didn"t fall into it naturally like Ellis. He did it to get through it so he could become a master himself. Despite that, there was obviously affection between him and Alex, but it was probably based more on respect and mutual need than lust.

Moving closer, Alastair seemed to take him in from head to toe. Ellis tried not to bristle at the perusal—as if this other slave had a right to act like a master and make him feel uncomfortable!

“Master loves this makeup shit,” Alastair said with a sneer.

“But I never did. I think it looks trashy.” For the first time, Ellis felt a frisson of fear. William hadn"t stopped Alastair from hurting him before, though he"d mentioned that Alex had punished Alastair, but who knew what that entailed?

And here he was, essentially at the mercy of this slave in his supposed
safe space
.

Alastair trailed a finger over Ellis"s cheek. “But there"s no denying that you… are very pretty.”

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That word again. It didn"t
sound
condescending, but Ellis was on edge.

“The only person I ever liked it on was Harte,” he continued.

“Though he"s the type to turn heads wearing a paper bag. But it gives you a different look than him. It makes him sexier… but with you… it makes you… I don"t know. Mysterious?” Was there a compliment in there?

“I mean, you were gorgeous before in a sort of aloof, detached way. Snotty. But now you look… well, fucking hot.” Ellis laughed nervously. “Thank you.”

Alastair nodded and sat on the bed. He patted the space beside him for Ellis to join him, but he preferred to remain standing.

“I wish I could fuck you,” Alastair said in a perfectly casual voice.

If Ellis hadn"t been bracing himself so fiercely against insult, he would have gaped. As it was, he just stared in shock.

“Your master definitely has a lot of rules. It"s not your fault, I understand. He likes to keep his things under lock and key.” Not quite comfortable with being called a
thing
, Ellis said, “He takes care of what"s his.” But as soon as he said it, he regretted it, because he
wasn’t
William"s, and Alastair knew that.

To his surprise, the other slave didn"t pounce on the gaff. “So, I"m told I was rough with you before. I am sorry about that. I get a little… Well, no matter. Are we good?”

In the interest of full disclosure, Ellis said, “I"m not sure.” Then he got an idea. He put his plan into motion before he could talk himself out of it. Slinking a little like he"d seen Harte do a hundred times, Ellis approached the bed, grinning inwardly when Alastair licked his lips.
Not so unaffected, are we?

“See,” Ellis said in what he hoped was a sultry voice, “there are 208

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certain things I like… certain games… but I could never play with someone I couldn"t trust.”

“What kinds of games?” Alastair said, any suspicion in his voice overridden by the curiosity in his eyes.

“Well, you know how they call slavery
human bondage…
” he purred, crawling past the shocked slave onto the bed and settling on his back with his arms over his head in a seductive pose. “I like it to be a little more…
literal.”

A knowing look came into Alastair"s eye, and he moved onto the bed and stretched himself out beside Ellis, not quite touching, but close enough that Ellis could feel the heat of his body. One of his hands crawled up to seize Ellis"s wrists, and he held them together as he leaned in close.

“Are you saying you want to play with me?”

“Well, I was thinking more like you"d be the one playing with
me
.”

Alastair groaned and wrapped his fingers around Ellis"s neck, just enough to make Ellis realise who was in charge. “Harte said I should give you a chance. I do hate it when he"s right.” Ellis tried not to let his relief show. He was sure that Alastair could sense his uncertainty, but the dark look in his eye told him differently.

“You"re going to be a good boy for me?” Alastair said, kissing Ellis"s throat with precise and calculated movements.

“Do you want me to? Or do you want me to be bad?” Alastair laughed at this. “Oh, but I think you"re good. I think you"re good all the way through. But that"s all right. I"ll make you feel
better
than good.”

Despite his trepidation at being at the mercy of another slave, Ellis was becoming aroused. There was something freeing about 209

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

giving himself over, not having to do anything but what Alastair wanted. It was a different submission than slavery—it was willing.

Alastair let his hands go, and once freed, Ellis thought about stopping. It was a dangerous game, one he wasn"t making the rules for.

But Alastair inched Ellis"s sheath up and over his body, slipping it off his arms before tossing the garment aside and doing the same with his own sheath. He then stripped a pillow and used the case to tie Ellis"s hands together around one of the horizontal bars of the bedpost. Despite the unusual means, the bonds were secure.

Kneeling beside Ellis, Alastair stared long and hard at his body, seeming to take in every inch of flesh. The sensation was so acute that when Alastair touched him, it felt like he had been already.

“Do you like to feel dirty, Ellis?” he asked, a finger trailing down the centre of his chest to trace through his pubic hair. Ellis shivered and his hips jerked.

“Yes,” he whispered, uncertain if it was true or not but knowing it was what Alastair wanted to hear.

“You"re a little slut, aren"t you? Just look at you, stretched out, wearing nothing but makeup, hard as stone.” To emphasise his point, Alastair ran his finger up Ellis"s cock and sure enough, a pearl of pre-come met his finger. “Yes, so pretty… and
so
dirty.” He offered his glistening fingertip to Ellis, who opened his mouth. He sucked the finger like he would a cock, and he knew the connection wasn"t lost on Alastair, who watched him without looking away.

“Thank you,” murmured Ellis, delighting in the look of shocked approval that met his words.

“Open your legs,” Alastair demanded hoarsely, moving 210

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between them when Ellis did as he asked.

Ellis struggled a little with his bindings, enjoying the look in Alastair"s eyes when he did. His back arched up off the bed, and Alastair slid a hand under him to the small of his back, lifting him so his lower body rested on Alastair"s bended knees, his legs around Alastair"s waist. Their cocks pressed together and Ellis moaned.

“You know the rules, right?” he asked, just to be sure. He didn"t want Alastair kissing him in the heat of the moment, though Ellis knew he wouldn"t kiss back like he had with Gabriel. Nothing was worth that punishment again.

“Yeah, by heart,” he said, and it took Ellis a moment to decipher that he didn"t mean “by Harte.” Alastair was continuing,

“If I broke them, would you tell?”

Despite his body"s somewhat surprising reaction to being tied up and talked down to, Ellis"s brain was still working correctly.

“Yes. Please don"t.”