Rough Beast 12
“Why not? They are prepared and trained to serve.”
“Not like this, and you know it.”
“Yet there are many ignoring this so called rule you are talking about,” Xavier shrugged as if they spoke of matters of minor importance.
“With all due respect, Xavier, you are in a class of your own when it comes to this. You ostentatiously refuse to take any slaves, just to debase these creatures and make them yield. Is conquest the only thing you care about? Is this why are you insisting so much on trying to get me in your bed?”
Xavier frowned. Lucas seemed quite disturbed. It was unlike Drena’s brightest mind to judge his best friend in such a manner.
“I told you it would be different between us,” he said sternly, withdrawing his hand and stopping the caress on the brunet’s wrist. His fingers itched for the touch, but they had to behave for now. “I could even let you…” he leaned forward and whispered something in Lucas’s ear.
The man didn’t look pleased. “I would still not be interested,” the words poured acid on Xavier’s pride. “Do not mistake the little liberties we take for something else. I’ve never been, and I never will be interested in being more than friends.”
Xavier feigned a small yawn, to hide his unease. Lucas was a passionate human being; it was one of the things he loved in his best friend. But getting on his wrong side had never felt like this before; it was not like he was afraid. Friends or not, there was no one above him, no one. Xavier had been born to rule, and other position than number one was beneath him. In dealing with other diplomats, or with his many lovers, it didn’t matter; he was the one in charge. Lucas just had to be taught, despite his overbearing pride. Even if Xavier had to crush him, he had to make the beautiful brunet his.
Cory stepped into the large living room, transformed into the slaves’ headquarters for the evening, his head in the clouds. Getting away from Lucas made it easier to think of him, so when he took in the scene before his eyes, he just remained stuck in the middle of the room, his mouth agape.
Several male specimens, completely naked, were relaxing in various provocative positions on the sofas brought to the room specifically for the event. The servants Cory had met earlier were fawning over them, making their perfectly tanned bodies glisten with special oils they had probably brought from their masters’ homes.
He noticed how Dion was carefully massaging the round buttocks of a beautiful brunet with long hair. When the slave’s eyes lazily opened, he saw they were the deepest blue.
The slave shifted and watched him with interest. Cory just watched, finding it impossible to unglue his eyes from the brunet’s steady gaze.
“Who’s the new bitch?” the slave drawled the words, and Cory felt an unfamiliar sting somewhere right in the middle of his chest.
Dion slapped the man’s buttocks. “Play nice, Antoine. He belongs to lord Xavier,” the redhead warned.
“So?” the slave got up, followed by other pairs of curious eyes, as he got closer to the object of his interest.
Suddenly, it was silence; Cory could feel it, thick and dangerous around him. The slave called Antoine stopped in front of him. He was a few good inches taller than the servant, so Cory had to tip his head a bit backward to keep his eyes on him.
“Pretty,” Antoine commented while catching a few strands of blond hair and playing with them, by rolling them on his fingers. “Since you’re Xavier’s toy, I suppose you know well how to suck cock,” he said with a small smile that made Cory shift a bit nervously.
Fortunately, Dion came to the rescue. “Don’t bully him. He’s new. And just because he belongs to lord Xavier don’t ever forget to add the honorific, Antoine, or one day your ass will be toasted it does not mean that he is supposed to be your toy, too.”
“What?” Antoine crossed his arms over a perfectly chiseled torso. “I am only asking to be prepared by him,” he smiled and winked at Cory.
“I think I am perfectly capable of doing that,” Dion’s dark eyes grew a shade darker.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.
“I am bored of you,” Antoine flicked his mane of black hair over a shoulder, trying to dismiss Dion from his view. “With you, it’s always the same routine. I want something new. Can you give me something new?” he asked, lifting his chin in disdain, and watching Dion through his eyelashes.
“What a melodrama queen,” Dion hissed. “Any hot orifice will do for you. Stop being difficult.”
“I can tell master my performance lost its shine because you failed to prepare me,” Antoine warned, making Dion roll his eyes in exasperation. Cory felt compelled to intervene. “There is no problem, Dion. I came here to help, after all. Please let me know what I have to do, and I will do my best.”
His small speech made the two turn their heads in surprise at the same time. Cory could tell the others in the room, slaves and servants alike, were now staring at him. Again, he was showed his place. His master was one thing, though; a powerful man, capable of crushing Cory within a blink of an eye, while this slave was nothing but one of the many toys groomed to please the wealthy, just like him.
“Then suck my cock,” the brunet said, grabbing his package and giving his organ a tentative rub.
Cory’s clear sapphire eyes clashed for a brief second with the deeper blues.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” he said with a small smile. Dion was looking at him, wide-eyed, saying nothing, and, in passing, as he followed Antoine to the sofa the slave had been sprawled until earlier, he winked at the redhead.
He had to meet these famous slaves, after all, and his master was right that he needed the practice. He was a fast learner, and he was not going to let Antoine see him ashamed or embarrassed.
The brunet lay on his back, parting his legs, and raising his lean, muscular arms above his head.
“Make it hard and wet. I have some drilling to do tonight to please the masters. So don’t give me some lame blowjob, bitch,” he said with a sneer.
Calmly, Cory took a seat between the long legs and touched the slave’s organ, carefully drawing back the skin and caressing it.
“Your humble servant’s name is Cory,” he looked Antoine in the eyes, as he descended to engulf the round head in his mouth.