Assumed Master (5 page)

Dante sat on the end barstool at the kitchen
island reading the paper when she came around the corner from the formal dining
room. He peeked over the top of it, folded it up, and set it in the seat of
another stool. Julie stopped short of standing beside him and wondered what to
do next. He indicated Blake was always formal as long as the twins weren’t
home. With them staying with Drake for now, what exactly did that entail and
which rules applied to Blake and not her? She’d known for years Blake sat at
Dante’s feet when they ate. Mason never expected that from her and insisted she
sit at the table with him more like a partner and less like a pet. Not to
mention her knees weren’t what they used to be.

When Dante didn’t say anything, Julie’s eyes
fell to the floor and she waited patiently for him to let her know what it was
he wanted her to do. As much as she hated being here, he was right about one
thing. She needed routine and balance. Letting him have some of her control
would provide that even if it wasn’t in the capacity to which she was
accustomed.

"Up here," Dante finally said,
patting the seat next to him.

"Thank you, Sir," she said, sliding
into the offered barstool. She crossed her legs and placed her hands in her lap
before she meandered over a line she wasn’t even sure existed. At home she
served Mason. She wanted to do that for Dante as well. "Can I make your
plate for you?"

"Yes, I’d like it if you did," he
answered, smiling for the first time in what seemed like days.

Julie piled his plate full of waffles and
scrambled eggs. The waffles hadn’t become soggy yet, but much to her disgust,
the eggs were now rubbery. She’d have to broach the subject of grocery shopping
with him at some point. Though the cabinets were well-stocked, there were certain
things she was used to working with that were missing and if cooking was to be
her job, she wanted to do it well and feel comfortable with the results. She
also needed to know what the twins liked once they came home. Mason’s children
were grown and had families of their own when they married, which meant Julie
had no idea what the modern teen enjoyed eating. Her own experiences as a teen
weren’t filled with pizza parties and loaded nachos. In fact, food was limited
to whatever she could afford for her and her sister after her mother passed out
and left her purse unattended. More often than not, she was lucky if she could
afford a loaf of bread and a pound of bologna.

"Jules?
Are you listening?" Dante cut through
her thoughts of childhood and Cassie.

"I’m sorry, Sir. No. I wasn’t listening,"
she admitted, laying her fork down, her appetite all but gone again.

"Want to share what was going on up here?"
he asked, running a fingertip over the wrinkle in her forehead that seemed to
get deeper by the day. She really needed to go to the Clinique counter and get
something for it.

"I was thinking about Cassie.
And bologna.
What do Gavril and Lucien like to eat? I need
to go shopping…If that’s okay?
Sir?"
She realized
she was speaking to Dante as she always had, as a friend and not her Master.

"I need to go shopping, too," he
told her, dropping his hand to her throat where he fingered the worn and
tattered collar she now wore in place of the petite, feminine one that had been
Mason’s first anniversary gift to her. "I think we need to do something
about this. Get you something prettier and more comfortable. I was thinking about
a choker of some sort?"

"If that’s what you’d like, Sir."
Julie ran a palm over the back of her neck and looked away.
 
While she needed the weight of a collar to
tether her right now, she still wasn’t entirely sold on the idea of it being
Dante’s.

"I have a few hours in between the time
Blake gets home and my evening class. We’ll all go to lunch and find something.
Would you like that? We'll get out for a while and you can do your shopping."

"Yes, I would." For some reason it
struck her right then how much was still to be done concerning the house. What
was she supposed to do with it or the contents if she was expected to stay with
Dante indefinitely? "What about the house, Sir? I need…" Unable to
finish, she took a short breath and laid her head on the counter.

"
Jules,
look at
me," Dante insisted, stroking her hair. "Come on, look at me."

With her energy supply seriously depleted, she
lifted her head and looked at him blankly.

"We’ll worry about the house another day.
You need time to process. Maybe giving it a few days and leaving it alone will
bring some perspective. Yes?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered dutifully,
although she had to wonder if there would ever be any perspective again. Or any
sleep. She was so tired her skin ached and that alone was reason enough to
start crying again.

Chapter Five

With breakfast finished, the mess cleared, and
the dishwasher loaded, Dante forced Julie to go to bed in his room. He wasn’t
sure why he sent her there. He had no idea how to approach her about sleeping
arrangements right now. Obviously he and Blake needed space and so did she, but
he found he wanted her to sleep with them, if not every night, at least
occasionally. The idea of curling up with one solid bodied man and one soft, luscious
woman and waking up the same way appealed to him. Of course he hadn't mentioned
this to Blake yet and while he could do whatever he wanted without Blake’s
permission, he still wanted Blake’s approval on this. It was his bed, too after
all and after what he’d done this morning, Dante had some serious making up to
do.

Once he’d convinced Julie to take a couple of
Tylenol, he drew the blackout shades, tucked her in, and pulled the door almost
shut. She might not sleep, but lying there resting had to be better than nothing.

He made his way to his office just down the
hall and after glancing at the clock, he wondered why Blake hadn’t phoned to
let him know how their sons were. That was another thing to be addressed. They
needed to figure out how they were going to explain that Aunt Julie was going
to be living with them on a permanent basis.

"Good morning," Blake said once his
secretary patched Dante through to his office. "How is she?"

"She’s as fine as can be expected I
suppose," Dante answered, kicking his own ass at Blake’s curt tone,
knowing he deserved more than the cold shoulder. "How were the boys?"

"They’re good. Concerned about Aunt Julie
and wondering when they can come home."

There was no need trying to resolve their
issues over the phone. As badly as Dante had wanted Julie to sleep with them a
few minutes ago, he knew he owed Blake his full and undivided attention later
and tonight he wouldn’t be playing soft Master and giving in to either of their
whims. He wouldn’t be passed off from one bed to the other. Everyone would get
a piece of him in time in a way he saw fit, starting with his husband who
needed him to man up and own what he’d done to him that morning. After he
soothed Blake’s hurt, he’d see to Julie’s. With the gravity of everything
weighing on him, Dante actually felt a bit of hate simmering for Mason. Why the
hell had he done this to them? What purpose did this serve?

"We need to talk to them," Dante
said, tapping his fingers along the edge of his desk. "I want to take you
and Julie out to lunch and go get her a nicer collar when you get home. Then we
can go see the boys and explain what’s going on. And I need you to take Julie
shopping. I’m not sure what she needs or wants, but I’ll leave a credit card. Spend
whatever it takes to make her happy. She’s assumed cooking. We’ll discuss the
other chores later."

"Fine.
I’ll be home around noon. I have to go now. I
have an appointment coming in a few minutes."

Before Dante could say good-bye or tell the
man he loved him, the line went dead. Yep, he had a lot of making up to do. The
play room was going to earn its worth over the course of the next few days. That
much was certain.

He left his desk and crept down the hall to
check on Julie only to find her curled in a heap, the covers pulled completely
over her head. The only thing he could see was her now closed eyes.
Typical Jules.
It was a habit she possessed long before
Mason came into the picture and obviously one she’d never outgrown. When she
felt unsafe, she hid as if thinking what she couldn’t see couldn’t see her and
therefore couldn’t harm her. A strand of hair that lay across her cheek
fluttered with her steady, even breathing.

Dante returned to his office intent on getting
as far ahead as he could on lectures and grading while all was quiet. It was
becoming increasingly evident his time was going to be stretched to the limit
and what hay he didn’t make while the sun was shining would die in the fields.

At a few minutes past twelve, Blake ducked his
head in the doorway with a half-hearted smile gracing his lips. He was naked
save his collar, but even the sight of his cock hanging heavy between his legs
didn’t cover up the tension Dante saw in his dull eyes.

"Good afternoon, Master," he said,
thrumming his fingers along the door jamb. "Is there anything I can do for
you?"

So, Blake was back to being the obedient
slave. Which was all fine and well except Dante knew it was out of a sense of
duty and less of actually wanting to give him that gift.

"Yeah, cut the shit," Dante finally
answered, closing his files and standing. "Do you honestly think after all
these years I don’t know when you’re faking it?"

"No, I don’t," Blake admitted. "So
why don’t
you
cut the shit and tell
me what you want so you won’t be further disappointed by my presence.
Master."

"Christ." Dante moved to within
inches of Blake. He reached out then fisted his hand and let it fall to his
side before taking a measured breath. "I’m not disappointed by anything
except the way I treated you this morning. I’m sorry."

"And I told you this morning I forgive
you," Blake shot back, turning to leave.

Dante grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him
into his office, closing the door behind them, pushing him up against the
smooth back of it and took Blake’s face in his hands. He briefly scanned his
husband’s eyes before descending on his lips and taking, needing control of
something. For the past twenty-four hours, he’d felt like all his control had
been stripped and tossed to the side and everything and everyone around him had
gathered it up and now possessed it.

After fighting Blake’s tightly clamped lips
for several seconds, he realized he was doing the exact thing that had earned
him this coldness. Swallowing his pride a bit, Dante softened his touch. Right
now neither of his slaves trusted him any further than they could throw him so
he had to do whatever it took to fix that, starting with the one he’d lived
with for the past eighteen years.

With a slow, determined resolve, Dante pulled
back a bit then ran his tongue along the seam of Blake’s lips, not forcing but
asking, pleading really. Anyone that didn’t believe the bottom in any
relationship held the power was a fool. Blake completely owned him and Dante
had virtually burned a bridge in a matter of minutes because his compass had
been spinning wildly.
 
He had no idea how
to make it stop except to take and take with greed and zero feeling. A few
light licks and Blake began to relax under his touch.

"I love you, Blake," he whispered
over his mouth. "I'm so sorry about this morning."

"I know you are, but it still hurts,"
Blake answered. "And you don’t need my forgiveness. You need to forgive
yourself."

"How?"

"Only you know the answer to that."
With that, Blake sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around Dante’s waist,
pressing his cheek against Dante’s thigh before moving his hands around to
unbutton and unzip Dante’s jeans. "I love you, Master."

This was the sincere Blake Dante knew. This man
on his knees, giving when giving wasn’t deserved. But Dante couldn’t refuse him
as he drew his already hardening cock from its confines and lapped at the
weeping tip before taking it between his lips and sucking gently. Pulling air
between his clenched teeth, Dante turned and leaned back against the door,
grabbing two handfuls of Blake’s hair.

Blake managed to scoot with his movements,
repositioning himself without losing suction. He smiled around Dante before
looking up and inching down his cock until Dante was fully seated in his mouth,
the head neatly fitted into his throat.

"Do you have any idea at all how good you
are at that?" Dante asked, holding Blake’s head still while he swallowed
around him, pulling the thread running down his cock, through his balls, and up
his spine tighter.

Blake merely nodded and made a humming noise
around him then ran a hand between Dante’s legs to stroke his ever tightening
sac. As one finger found its way further behind to stroke his perineum, Dante
loosened his grip, allowing Blake to pull back only to take a breath and engulf
his cock with warm wetness again. Back up, he razed him with his teeth before
falling into a steady rhythm.