Hiding His Wolf [Urban Affairs 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove) (10 page)

Levi and Noah had brought out a side of Simon’s personality that he’d kept buried for years, his empathy for his fellow man. It was his Christian upbringing. He couldn’t seem to leave it behind.

Simon hardened his features into a mask. “This is my assignment. I just want to do the best possible job for you.”

“Hmpf.” Obviously, Graham was still irritated. “Let him sleep it off. I’ll get someone to clean him up, and we’ll question him later.”

Simon thought of Levi waiting at home for him. “No. I don’t want to wait. I’ll take care of him myself.”

Graham gave him a surprised look. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Where’s the bathroom? Oh, and he needs food and water.”

“There are keys in the drawer.” Graham pointed to the nightstand. “Have him moved to the room at the end of the hall. There’s a connecting bathroom.”

“Water, sir?”

“I’ll have someone bring it to the room. Just make sure you get results. We’ll meet in the dining room for breakfast tomorrow. Eight a.m. sharp.”

Simon watched his retreating back. Graham was a tough bastard.
Currently, the Agency put a lot of emphasis on torture and punishment to get what it wanted.
Simon wasn’t against brutality when necessary, but he didn’t see the need in this case. The slave was not a Were, and he was here through no fault of his own.

He stood by the bed and stared down at Noah for a long time, before sitting on the soggy mattress. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told the silent figure. With a forefinger he gently traced the web of thin scars etched in the boy’s flesh. For the first time, it pained him to look at the marks of a flogging because he knew it hadn’t been done with Noah’s consent. Noah’s back muscles tensed and Simon knew he was awake. “I’m going to uncuff your hands, Noah,” he said softly.

Simon wanted the shackles off before he went any further. He needed to look into Noah’s eyes when he talked to him. He found the keys in a drawer in the nightstand. Ignoring the pity that threatened to overtake him, he leaned over Noah’s body and unlocked the cuffs around the thin wrists. Noah’s arms fell limply to the bed. He looked even thinner than the last time Simon had seen him. In his weakened condition, it appeared that just walking down the hall might be too much for Noah. “Are you awake, Noah?” Simon asked.

“Yes, sir.” The voice was a low whisper.

Simon was surprised that he’d received an answer at all, and a polite one at that, but then he remembered he was dealing with a slave who had been trained to obey.

“My name is Simon. Can you turn over? I want to talk to you.”

Noah made an effort to turn over but only made it to his side.

Simon looked into Noah’s eyes but couldn’t detect any sign of recognition in them. He’d been heavily drugged the night of his auction. Maybe it had been for the best. At lease he’d been spared some of the pain and humiliation.

“Can I help you?” Simon asked him.

Noah appeared slack jawed and hollow eyed.
Drugs?

He tried to focus his eyes on Simon. “You can do whatever you wish, sir.”

Simon swallowed the sudden lump in his throat with an effort. Helping Noah roll onto his back, Simon noticed the raw marks where the iron cuffs had dug in to Noah’s flesh. He rubbed his thumb over one of Noah’s thin wrists. The young man didn’t flinch, but Simon knew it must hurt.

“We’re going to move to another room where you can eat and get cleaned up. Do you think you can walk?”

“Yes, sir.”

Simon wasn’t so sure, but he would carry the man if he had to. “Try and sit up then.”

Noah tried to raise his head, then, with a groan, let it fall back on the mattress. He waited a few seconds and then pushed himself up onto his elbows, where he remained.

“Good boy,” Simon encouraged him. He stood up and waited for Noah to make a move.

“Thank you, sir.” Very carefully, Noah sat up and swung his legs to the floor.

Simon reached out for him. Noah looked at him hesitantly, then gripped Simon’s hands and
allowed himself to be
pulled
to his feet. Unsteady as he was, Noah fell against Simon’s chest. Two thin arms came around Simon’s waist and held on for dear life. For the first time a hint of something other than pity crept up Simon’s spine as he embraced the boy. Not ready to explore what that meant, Simon gently disengaged Noah’s arms and helped him to the door.

With Simon’s arm around his waist, Noah walked out of the room and down the hall.

The last door on the right stood ajar. At first glance this room looked exactly like the other, and then Simon noticed the pillow and a blanket folded at the foot of the bed. More important he could breathe without the sting of ammonia in his nostrils. A small tray with a cheese sandwich and a bottle of water sat on the nightstand.
Charming.
A man on death row got better than this. Simon told the slave to help himself. Noah sat on the side of the bed, drained the bottle of its water, and took a few bites of the sandwich.

Simon tried to analyze his feelings while he watched him eat. Up till now, he’d felt only pity for the boy. But today Noah’s submissive nature combined with the close physical contact prompted an unwanted physical attraction. He would have to watch out for that. Simon had no intention of taking advantage of a helpless boy.

Sex should be the furthest thing from his mind. He had more important issues to deal with. Noah was human, not Were. Why bring him here? Couldn’t he have been questioned back in the States?
Bait?
Simon had his doubts. Surely, Graham didn’t expect Levi to find his way to this godforsaken spot looking for him? Yeah, Simon had changed his mind about that, too. This wild, remote island wasn’t the hidden gem he’d first thought.
More like a hellhole.

Noah had pushed away the tray and sat quietly waiting, head bowed in an attitude of frozen stillness.
Waiting for what?
To be told what to do most likely. Jesus, the man acted like a ghost,
sad and not really here.
Not that Simon blamed him. If he were in Noah’s position, he’d want to make himself invisible, too.

“Noah?”

The blond head snapped up as if the man had been deep in thought.

What is he thinking about? The life he used to have?

Noah’s old life was far behind him. Did he even remember who he used to be? Blue eyes focused on Simon, but nothing else moved, as if Noah dared not twitch unless Simon okayed it. It freaked him out. He liked submissive men, and he had an uncanny instinct for recognizing them. An image of Levi came into his head. Yeah, the half-breed was one submissive cocksucker. Heat curled low in Simon’s belly—followed by guilt.
God, I hope he’s okay.
He shook off the self-reproach by promising himself he’d leave this place as soon as possible.

Yeah,
Simon liked to dominate men,
but only if it was what they wanted. Noah had been forced into this lifestyle years ago. It had been so long, the slave probably didn’t know what he wanted anymore. And it was such a waste. If Noah had a little more meat on his bones and some spirit left to animate his features, he would be a very desirable man.

Even those narrow stripes across the boy’s back—scars from past beatings—could be sexually exciting in the right situation. A flogging could be extremely arousing, but in Noah’s case it had been brutal and savage. Now there were fresh bruises on Noah’s body that could have come from the tight harness. The man had been abused beyond reason.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He led Noah into the bathroom.
A wet room, really. Simon had used some well-appointed wet rooms, but this one was just an open shower with a cement floor that sloped toward a drain hole. There were no benches or grab bars.

Fuck it, I need a shower anyway.

So much for keeping his distance.
Hoping for hot water,
Simon started to unbutton his shirt. Noah braced himself against the wall and looked at him with a surprised expression.

Simon stared back. “Noah, as weak as you are, I can’t leave you in here alone. You need my help.” Simon stripped off his clothes and turned on the water. There was no way to adjust it, but at least it was warm.
Thank you, Jesus.
He held out a hand. “Okay, come on in.”

Noah hesitated. He didn’t understand this game. It was Noah’s job to bathe the Master, not the other way around. Yes, Simon had been nice to him, even given him food and water, but he was one of
them
—a Master—and they always wanted something. Sex. To think otherwise would be foolish.

Noah would give this man what he wanted. It was his job after all. The only one he’d known since El Lobo had taken his virginity. When the rebel leader tired of him, he gave him to the Were-slavers. Noah had been bought and sold many times. Too many times to count.

“What are you waiting for?”

Noah let Simon haul him under the water. The warm stream pulsing against his sore body felt terrific. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back to let the water run over his face for a few seconds. A sigh escaped him, but then he heard Simon moving and he remembered his place.

Noah sank to his knees at Simon’s feet to service him. Disappointed, he nuzzled the man’s flaccid prick. If he couldn’t get Simon hard, he’d be punished.

Suddenly two strong hands gripped Noah under his armpits and pulled him to a standing position. Simon was big, bigger than some wolves. He could crush Noah easily. Anxiety made his stomach knot. “Don’t you want me—”

“Everything isn’t about sex,” Simon said tightly. “You need a shower, and that’s what you’re getting.”

Noah looked down, embarrassed. Maybe Simon just wanted him clean before he fucked him. Usually there was no uncertainty to what was required of him. He hated feeling like this. So confused. He really, really needed his drugs.

Simon rubbed the soap between his palms and spun Noah around so he faced away from the bigger man. Behind him he heard a bottle being opened and then a woodsy smelling shampoo was poured on his head. Those long fingers that had touched his back so gently now massaged the lather into his scalp. Others had washed his hair before, but not like this. Always before, his tormentors rushed through the washing, pulling his long hair and hurting him as much as they could manage. This felt wonderful. A low moan escaped him, and he leaned back into Simon’s touch. Was his hair so dirty, or was Simon taking his time because he liked doing this? Noah didn’t care. He just wanted the shampoo to go on forever.

All too soon, Simon rinsed his hair and reached for the soap. He rubbed it between his palms and started to wash Noah with soap slick hands. He started at Noah’s shoulders and worked his way down. Noah’s breath caught in his throat as Simon’s hand slid along the crease of his ass. A long finger rimmed his hole. He expected to be penetrated, but it didn’t happen.

Big slippery hands reached around to stroke his cock and balls. Noah stood perfectly still. This was his lot in life. He just hoped Simon would be pleased with him because there weren’t enough drugs left in his body to cushion the blows of a beating, should Simon decide he deserved one. Of course a Master didn’t need a reason. Some men just liked to beat others.

For some reason Noah didn’t think Simon was one of those men. His hands were firm, but light on Noah’s abused flesh. For a big man, Simon had a gentle touch, and Noah’s body responded to each soft caress. More and more, he enjoyed having Simon’s hands on him. Noah’s dick stiffened, and for the first time he felt pure pleasure in a man’s touch. Sensation flooded through his body, and he thought he might come, but he steeled himself against an orgasm. It was the Master’s right to come first. He was supposed to hold off, no matter what. But it felt so good.

Is this a test?
If so, Noah feared he might fail. He felt his control slipping.

Simon’s rhythm speeded up. Noah focused on slowing his breathing. Simon stroked faster. Harder. Noah could no longer focus on anything but the slip and slide of Simon’s hand and the hot spikes of sensation that centered in his cock and balls. His entire body quivered under Simon’s touch. His breathing came in quick pants now.

Suddenly, betrayed by his body, Noah let out a low, keening cry. His balls drew up tight and the pleasure of an orgasm took him to another place.
Simon pulled him against his hard chest and held him through the spasms as spurts of cum mixed with the water and washed down the drain.

Finally, Simon released his genitals, and Noah braced himself for the first blow.

It never came.

Simon turned him so they were facing each other. Noah lowered his head. Simon gripped his jaw and lifted his head, and then he captured Noah’s mouth and swept his tongue inside. The kiss was surprisingly gentle. No one had kissed him in years. With a soft sigh, Noah stood on his toes and put his arms around Simon’s shoulders. The heat of the kiss melted him. He felt Simon’s hard cock rub against him, and he knew that Simon would probably fuck him now, but he didn’t care. It would keep Simon close for a time, and that was what he wanted. Simon made him feel desired, like he was worth something. He just wanted to hang on to that feeling for a little while longer.

* * * *

What the fuck am I doing?

Simon released Noah and took a step back.

Remember what you’re doing here, Simon.

He had to focus on the mission. There was no time for sex or sympathy here. Simon’s deep awareness of Noah’s suffering and his desire to do something about it could get both of them in big trouble. And this physical attraction could get them killed.

He saw confusion in Noah’s eyes, and Simon’s heart twisted. It hadn’t been his intention to make things harder for the boy. On the contrary, for just a few minutes he wanted to make Noah forget his plight, forget where he was, and just experience a tiny bit of pleasure. Of course it didn’t hurt that Noah was beautiful and the boy’s submissiveness captivated him. Giving the boy an orgasm had been just as enjoyable for him as Noah. But Simon was crossing a dangerous line here.