At His Throat, a Promise (34 page)

Ellis pulled away and tugged Harte after him; Harte had a somewhat dazed look on his face.

“Harte, Ellis,” William said when they"d stopped in front of a very young man standing alone. “This is Jack Archer. He works at my firm.”

Jack exclaimed over both of them, insisting upon their beauty in such an extreme way that Ellis had to think he was sucking up to the master. Jack was young, perhaps only three years out of slavery himself. He had long, dark brown hair tied back, and strange, light, colourless eyes.

“Is this him?” Jack asked, indicating Ellis.

“Yes. He"s perfectly trained, compliant, obedient, and genuinely enjoys pleasing. He"s also a sexual switch, which is why I thought you might be interested.”

Ellis wasn"t exactly sure what William meant by “switch.” Was it because he liked to both fuck and get fucked? It almost seemed 291

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like there was something more to it, but before Ellis could work it out, Jack was touching his cheek.

“What"s his specialisation?” Jack asked in a quiet voice, fingers exploring Ellis"s chest, shoulder, and even his arm.

“Prosecution.”

“Hmm.” Addressing Ellis, he said, “My formal training is in prosecution, though I switched to defence last year. A little early to be changing sides, but my heart wasn"t in it anymore. It"s more fun to win when you"re on the defence.”

Ellis was glad he didn"t seem to be expected to answer. He thought that was stupid. Jack seemed like a nice young man; in a few years he"d regret his decision, Ellis was sure. Winning for the defence might be more lucrative, but it didn"t have the same satisfaction that Ellis imagined William felt when he won.

“Can I touch him?” Jack asked William, who nodded.

Harte wrapped his arms around William, almost like he couldn"t watch.

Jack stepped right up to Ellis so their bodies were touching along the front. He smelled a little flowery, though it wasn"t very strong.

“You"re very beautiful,” he whispered to Ellis, running his hands down Ellis"s back.

“Thank you, Sir,” Ellis said. He didn"t really know what to do with himself. The master had said he"d be touched, but he wasn"t sure if he was supposed to act like he liked it, or initiate more, or just be completely passive.

Opting for the last, Ellis was still as Jack"s hand cupped his ass, squeezing a little.

“I bet you fuck like a whore, don"t you? I bet you beg. William seems like the type to make a slut like you cry with need.” 292

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Ellis shifted a little when Jack"s hand slipped into the back of his panties, fingers worming into his crack. Jack"s dirty talk was different than Alastair"s or even William"s, and Ellis didn"t like it.

“Are you always so quiet?” Jack asked. He ruthlessly drove two fingers into Ellis"s hole, eliciting a whimper. “There we go.

Knew I could make you squeak. Is it because William makes you wear a gag? Or does he hurt you when you"re noisy?” Shaking his head, Ellis wondered if maybe Jack didn"t have a thing for
William
since he enjoyed talking about him so much.

“Tighten up around my fingers,” Jack instructed.

Ellis clenched, red with humiliation. He knew William was watching and he felt dirty.

“Nice and tight. Could be tighter, I suppose, but you"re not exactly new, are you? Ever taken two cocks at once?”

“No, Sir,” Ellis said, aghast.

Jack made a humming noise and pulled his fingers from Ellis, who cringed but didn"t otherwise react.

But when Jack raised his fingers to Ellis"s mouth and said,

“Clean them,” Ellis gasped. Maybe it wasn"t that different from some of the things he"d done—like rimming Harte with his fingers inside him at the same time, sometimes licking his fingers—but it just seemed so… callous.

Luckily, William thought so, too. He grabbed Jack"s wrist just before the fingers touched Ellis"s mouth. “Go wash it yourself,” William snapped, practically throwing Jack"s hand away.

Raising an eyebrow, Jack nodded. With his clean hand, he withdrew a card and pressed it into William"s closed fist.

“I"m definitely making a claim,” he said, and with a last, hard smile at Ellis, Jack disappeared into the crowd.

“Master, no,” Harte implored, his arms coming around Ellis"s 293

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waist, head resting on his chest.

William sighed and wrote something on that card, as well. Ellis wondered what he wrote.
Doesn’t believe in lubricant or hygiene
?

“Did he hurt you?” William asked, running his fingers through Ellis hair.

“No, Sir. But I didn"t like him very much.” Ellis wasn"t sure if his opinion really mattered, but he was shaken enough to voice it.

“I understand. Harte, why don"t you make Ellis feel better?” Harte grinned and tossed his hair back, transforming into pure sex before their eyes. “I"d be happy to, Master.” He pulled Ellis down for a kiss, their lips meeting hard.

Ellis clutched at Harte, glad at the opportunity to think about something other than soiled fingers shoved in his face. More than the crudeness of the act—something Ellis might have done without thinking in the heat of lovemaking—was the presumption of it.

Even at a place like this, even with a sponsored slave, a master should never be so crude.

Harte"s erection pressed into his hip, and Ellis stopped thinking about Jack Archer. His hands slid over the unfamiliar material of Harte"s corset and silk panties before cupping and massaging his perfect ass. Harte moaned and let his head fall back as he so often did when anyone was even remotely dominant with him, and Ellis took advantage, biting his neck roughly, transmuting his own discomfort into Harte"s.

Suddenly aware that they were in the middle of the room, Ellis opened his eyes to see that a circle of watchers had formed around them. William was foremost in Ellis"s line of sight, and he nodded encouragingly at Ellis.

Instead of making him feel exposed, the eyes on him felt good, like he had all of their approval and it was important. He continued 294

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to grind against Harte and roughly use the younger boy"s body to enhance his own pleasure.

“Oh, please, Ellis,” Harte whimpered, eyes tightly shut. His words caused a low susurration of approving voices around them, and Ellis grinned internally.

“What do you want?” he demanded. His fingers dug into Harte"s ass in a way that very well could leave bruises. He slipped a hand inside Harte"s panties and stroked against his smooth, hairless hole, making Harte arch and writhe.

“Anything,” Harte gasped.

But he"d get nothing, because William stepped in and stopped them. “Very nicely done, Ellis, though I suspect you"ve attracted the attention of masters more on the receiving end of the spectrum than the giving. Harte, on the other hand, will be the topic of conversations between master and slave as the epitome of submission.”

Harte was panting as the master pulled him away. “Don"t go far, Harte. You don"t have your collar and I won"t have you harassed.” He turned to Ellis. “Now why don"t we show them a different side to you?”

Ellis nodded weakly. He was aroused beyond reason and he could only hope that William would let him get off.

William dipped him into a hard kiss, bending him backward.

He was unrelenting. His hand was in Ellis"s panties, though he didn"t do anything more than caress his hole. Ellis was grateful for that because he was sore after Jack had fingered him so roughly.

The were appreciative murmurs in the crowd as William played Ellis like an instrument, drawing out reaction after reaction, every response perfectly manipulated, every ministration flawlessly calculated.

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Ellis"s own head dropped back much like Harte"s had. He shut his eyes this time, but there was a near-tangible sensation of eyes all over him. William marked his neck with his teeth, and Ellis liked that claim much better than the lock at his throat.

Finally, William let him back up. Ellis stumbled a little, but the master caught him. The crowd laughed a little at Ellis"s drunken expression.

“A perfect display of your abilities,” William said. His eyes were dark and his need palpable, but he was obviously made of tougher stuff than his slaves, for he gave Ellis a few moments to gather himself before turning to Harte and saying, “Come, let"s get you two some food.”

They walked carefully behind William, Harte with his hand on Ellis"s back.

“I won"t let him send you to someone horrible,” Harte declared out of nowhere. “You deserve the best.”

Ellis just smiled gratefully at him, gritting his teeth against his persistent erection and thinking about anything that could help him regain under control.

William stopped in front of them at a long table filled with hors d"oeuvres and began filling up a small plate.

Harte was caressing Ellis"s behind, as if trying to soothe the pain left by Jack.

“Stop,” Ellis said quietly, shifting.

Harte grinned up at him. “Enjoying it?”

“You know I am. Why do you always have to be such a tease?” But he wasn"t upset at Harte; he welcomed the distraction.

“Because I promised, remember? That I"d drive you crazy all night?”

“Well, you don"t have to. I"m already crazy about you.” Ellis 296

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smiled and kissed Harte, who was positively beaming.

“Really?” he whispered after the kiss broke.

“Really. More fool me.”

“I"m crazy about you, too.”

“I know.” And he did. Maybe it wasn"t the same as love, but it felt just as real, just as good.

“Harte, this is yours,” William said as he walked up to the embracing slaves. He handed Harte a plate with various sweets and only a few items of any real nutritional value.

“Thank you, Master! But I should have gotten your food, not the other way around.”

“No,” William said. “I take care of you.” Harte looked at him with wide, bright eyes. Ellis rolled his own eyes. He could tell Harte was going to be in a sappy mood all night now.

“And Ellis, this is yours.”

Ellis"s plate consisted of tasty canapés and pieces of fruit, and he was eager to eat. He"d become accustomed enough to the corset that it wouldn"t bother him to eat, but he was noticing his hunger, thanks to his small meal earlier.

“Go sit over there.” William pointed toward an area cordoned off from the main part of the ballroom, which was currently brimming with people chatting, dancing, or engaging in lascivious activities.

Harte and Ellis headed toward the seating area and sat on a sofa, close together at one end with Harte against the arm. All of the couches, loveseats, and chairs were the deepest red. The lighting over them seemed to be a little dimmer, and Ellis realised why when he noticed they were the only ones actually using the furniture for its intended purpose. Everyone else was in various 297

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states of lovemaking, including two female slaves from earlier to Harte"s right, whom Harte was watching eagerly.

Ellis imagined that Harte would have gotten more from a kiss with Katelyn than Ellis himself had. Harte didn"t really seem to have a type at all. Everyone appealed to him in some way.

Nudging Harte, Ellis raised an eyebrow at him, and Harte blushed adorably.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I just haven"t seen that a lot.”

“You look like you wouldn"t mind seeing it a lot more.” Ellis bit delicately into a slice of melon, trying hard not to ruin his lipstick any more than the kisses already had.

Harte just shrugged and went back to watching.

When Ellis was finished, he held his plate in his lap a moment, looking for William. There was no sign of him, but Ellis wasn"t worried, just bored—though he preferred boredom to getting prodded.

He stood to put his plate on the table in front of the sofa, but his high heel snagged on the rug, and he had that horrible, empty feeling that one gets before a fall, knowing the landing was coming up fast—

Only it never came.

“All right, there?” asked his rescuer, chuckling as he pulled Ellis upright, not letting go after having done so.

“Fine, thank you,” Ellis said breathlessly, patting himself down to get his bearings. “These shoes, I… ” He didn"t finish because it seemed too obvious.

“Of course. It is always the prettiest things that are the most dangerous, is it not?”

The man spoke with a slight accent, his language precise and clipped in a way that meant he strove to be understood, though his 298

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voice was low and melodious.

“I rather think it"s the dangerous things that are the most dangerous,” Ellis said, laughing. “Sir,” he added quickly, remembering himself.

The man smiled broadly. He had straight, white teeth and a mouth that looked accustomed to smiling. He looked to be about William"s age or a few years younger. He was about Ellis"s height at the moment, so a little taller without the shoes. He wasn"t as fit as William, but he was attractive enough, with light brown hair and blue-green eyes.

“You wear a lock,” said the man with a curious lilt to his voice.

The man"s hand was heavy on Ellis"s upper arm as he unconsciously moved to touch the pendent. “To show that I"m in need of a master, Sir,” Ellis said.

“How can you, prettiest and most dangerous thing, not be owned?”

“My old master died.”

“I am sorry. And more so that he did not provide for you.” Ellis just nodded. “I don"t know where my sponsor is to make an introduction… ” he said leadingly, knowing that it wasn"t proper to remain so close without even knowing the man"s name, and without his sponsor. A glance at Harte told him he"d have no support from that voyeuristic pervert. Harte hadn"t torn his eyes away from the slave girls, who were now smiling at him and fluttering their fingers.

“My apologies,” the man said. He finally drew his hand back and offered it to Ellis. “My name is Jude Mitchell.”

“Ellis,” he said, shaking Jude"s hand a little formally.