“Please, my lord, may I come?”
“Very well,” I said haughtily and added a little more weight to his flattened testicles.
“My lord,” he bleated.
“Go on, Cedrych, finish.”
Mere strokes later, he gave a shuddering cry and released into his caged fist. Some of it splashed onto my shoe, thick and white against the dark leather. Still holding onto his hair, I drew back his head. Droplets of sweat clung to his temples and dotted the center of his chest as his soft panting filled the quiet room.
“Well done. Now, clean up your mess.”
His eyes widened as he stared at his fist. I nodded in confirmation and he blinked twice, then cautiously licked his knuckles, clearly never having tasted his own ejaculate before. I waited until he’d gotten most of it then pointed at my shoe. A look of alarm crossed his face–I was certain he’d never been asked to dothatparticular task before–but he bent over beautifully and flicked his pink tongue against the leather. I’d intended for it to be a test of obedience, but he was so thorough in his execution that I think he rather enjoyed it. What a treasure. Once finished, he stared up at me, awaiting his next instruction.
I offered my hand and helped him up, then wrapped the tunic around him tightly, not bothering with the laces. I hugged him close while he recovered his wits.
“That was very good,” I murmured while kissing his hair and breathing him in. I’d grown accustomed to his scent trailing down my corridors and filling my once-empty rooms, had begun to crave it.
“What about you?” he asked as he pulled away, eyes darting furtively downward.
“Later. First, I’d like to discuss with you what just happened.”
“You want to talk about it?” he said, looking panicked.
“Yes.”
“But… why?” he spluttered.
“Because weshouldtalk about it.”
“No,” he said, trying to edge away. I gave him a sharp look and he corrected himself. “No,sir.”
“Cedrych, I insist.”
“Well, I refuse.”
I held his rebellious glare, allowing him the space to change his mind, but his jaw was set and the line of his mouth was as stubborn as ever.
“Cedrych,” I entreated, softer this time.
“Halt.”
I sighed and stepped away while his gaze landed on my shoe, still shining with his spit. I could see the tumult of emotion warring within him, but I could not address it, for he’d effectively shut me out. He turned toward the door, intent on leaving.
“I’d like you to stay.” I motioned to a chaise and made my final appeal, “We don’t have to talk about it just yet.”
“I need to go wash up. I’m filthy.”
His words were revealing, whether he knew it or not.
“Then I’ll see you at dinner,” I said.
He didn’t answer but left me standing there in silence. He shut the door behind him, a clear message not to follow.
Gods be damned.
Chapter 8
Prince Cedrych
