At His Throat, a Promise (12 page)

BOOK: At His Throat, a Promise
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“Thank you, Sir.”

“I"m sorry, Ellis,” Harte suddenly said, squirming a little in his seat and looking abashed.

Ellis wanted to shake his head—Harte had nothing to apologise for—but part of him wanted to hear what the other slave had to say.

“I should have remembered what it was like for me when William took me away from my master. I didn"t adapt half as quickly or as well as you, though I think it showed in different ways.”

William chuckled a little, and Ellis warmed at the vibrations the action set off through his body.

“I don"t know what"s wrong with me,” Ellis said softly, addressing Harte but speaking to William as well, grateful that Harte had given him the lead-in to be candid. “I didn"t even like my master. I barely knew him, really. I don"t miss him. I think I"m scared.”

William nodded. “It must be very difficult not knowing what"s coming next.”

Harte narrowed his eyes at his master, but Ellis couldn"t see how William responded.

“Yes,” said Ellis.
I wish I could stay.

They took dinner at the table amidst the work, but Ellis didn"t mind at all. Getting the audio books made him feel like he had something of an edge, so the lesson didn"t feel like he was wasting their time. Soon enough he"d be caught up.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

The phone in the study rang, and William got up and beckoned for them both to follow him.

“Are you okay?” Harte whispered as they entered the study.

They were permitted to sit on the couch whenever they were in learning mode and not slave mode. Harte handed Ellis his legal pad and a pen.

“I"m fine,” Ellis said automatically.

“Master seemed upset when he came from the study before,” Harte pressed. But then he seemed to realise that Ellis wasn"t going to give any more information, and he just reached out and grabbed Ellis"s hand, squeezing it gently before poising his own pen.

“What is the extent of the injuries?” William asked, his own pen moving furiously over the page. “Has he had medical attention?”

There was silence as the person on the other end of the line ostensibly filled William in, and Ellis wondered what the nature of the phone call was. William usually dealt with more boring stuff like lawsuits; he was usually pretty removed from any “action.”

“Will he be returning to his master while they reopen the case?

I see. What happened to him? And so… ? The Facility? Is that necessary?”

Harte went gone strangely pale at the mention of the Facility, which wasn"t difficult to understand—the Facility was where slaves were held if they had no one else. Ellis himself had almost ended up there. Harte"s pen was no longer moving, so Ellis struggled to keep up with the information.

“… problem with the system if the slave is being punished because the master is abusive. Yes, but— All right, then. Who"s the defence? Are you serious? No, no, I"m just wondering why they"d have such a prominent attorney when it seems an open-and-97

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

shut case.”

William happened to look up at them, his eyes settling on Harte, who was sitting perfectly still.

“Is he at the Facility now? Until the trial, then? I"ll take the case, Gormley. I"ll have him remanded into my custody.” There was a heavy pause and then William shouted, “It"s a barbaric law and you fucking know it!”

Ellis put his arm around Harte, who was beginning to shiver, even though the room seemed hot to Ellis. “Shh, it"s okay,” he crooned, having no real idea what was happening.

“Tomorrow, then. I don"t fucking care. Tomorrow. Yes. Good-bye.” William slammed down the phone and immediately moved to Harte, who Ellis seamlessly shifted into his master"s arms.

William lifted him to his feet like he was nothing more than a bag of groceries and walked to the door, pausing only to say, “Come on, Ellis.”

William led the way to Harte"s room, where he instructed Ellis to grab night sheaths for both Harte and himself. Then he opened a door that Ellis had always assumed was a closet and passed through.

The door conjoined Harte"s room with the master"s. Ellis hesitated, looking at the shifts in his hand. William obviously wanted him to follow, but…

Just as he was making up his mind to go through, William came back without Harte and gestured impatiently at Ellis to enter.

The master"s room was unnecessarily large and it had an almost unlived-in feeling about it. Only the bed seemed like it had been used; everything else, even the dresser, was new looking.

Harte looked small in the centre of the massive four-poster bed.

He was watching his master with an amused look, but he was still 98

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

very pale, and Ellis thought he might be shaking a little.

“Dress him, will you?” William said distractedly as he began to close the windows. “And yourself.”

Ellis helped Harte out of his slave sheath and into the nightclothes, which looked similar but the nightclothes were a little looser and made of softer material. Ellis himself quickly changed and took the sheaths into Harte"s room where he put them in the hamper for one of the servants.

Once he returned, William was drawing the sheets back and manoeuvring Harte under them, and then himself.

“Get the lights, will you, Ellis?” William said in a subdued voice.

Ellis began to look for the lights; did William want him to leave through Harte"s room?

“And then come to bed,” Harte added assertively. When William didn"t object, Ellis felt better. He flipped the light switches and got into bed on Harte"s other side.

He was definitely confused about the tender and delicate treatment of his hearty fellow slave, not to mention the meekness of Harte"s personality all of a sudden—except for Ellis"s invitation to the bed, of course.

“I"m very tired, Master,” Harte said. He stretched obscenely, but there was nothing sexual about the arched back and clenched fists. He was childlike. He gave Ellis a soft kiss on his lips and then his master a more lingering one. He faced his master—both on their sides—and folded himself into William"s protective embrace.

His breathing evened very quickly, and Ellis couldn"t stop himself from smoothing Harte"s hair away from his face. There was something about him that cried for protection and care. He 99

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

made everyone want to make him feel better, and in return, he made everyone"s days a little brighter. There was something special about him, something that had dimmed at the mention of the Facility.

“He was there, you know,” William said, breaking into Ellis"s thoughts.

“The Facility?”

William nodded. “For an entire year before Patrick—his old master—took him up. And then Patrick had him for about a year before I took him home.”

But that would make Harte more than eighteen, and there was no way that was possible.

“His parents died when he was fourteen. He had no other family, and since he was destined for service anyway, they put him in the Facility to hold him. He wouldn"t have lasted another year there, though. And he certainly wouldn"t have lasted any more than another month at Patrick"s.”

Maybe it was easier for William to talk in the dark. Or maybe he was concerned about the slave in the Facility right at that moment, alone and scared like Ellis had been when his master had died. Whatever the cause, William talked.

The story was disjointed and full of impressions and even regrets, but William went on steadily for a long time, the longest Ellis had ever heard him speak. By the end of it, he felt he understood both men a little better. William really had no idea how to be a master to anyone but Harte, who was pretty much his own instruction manual. And Harte had never had anyone but William.

Ever.

Eventually Ellis"s hand settled on Harte"s side, where his thumb caressed gently. He"d thought Harte spoilt, but the truth 100

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

was, Ellis had had a better life overall. He"d had a family that genuinely cared about him, as much as families did these days.

He"d had a master who hadn"t been too deviant or strict. And he"d avoided the Facility thanks to Harte, who hadn"t been so lucky.

William"s hand rested over Ellis"s, but both of them only had eyes for Harte.

* * *

Ellis woke up to the strange sensation of not knowing where he was—or who was sucking his cock.

Opening his eyes with a gasp, Ellis moaned when he saw Harte"s golden head between his thighs, hungrily slurping over his erection. Without really thinking, his buried his hands in Harte"s hair and drew his own legs back, giving Harte more than enough room.

“You make the prettiest noises,” came a husky voice from beside him.

Ellis startled and Harte protested at the rude jerk of his hips.

“Sir, I—”

“It"s all right. Remember the rules?”

“He told me to do it, anyway,” Harte interjected, lifting his head up for a moment. After a quick lick to Ellis"s cock, he added,

“Not that I objected or anything. You"re delicious.” Ellis groaned helplessly, dropping his head against the pillow.

Harte was very talented, and Ellis certainly wasn"t skilled in holding back.

“Slow down,” William instructed. Harte"s movements immediately tapered off to teasing licks and playful nips along his shaft and sac.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

“Sit up,” William said, helping Ellis into an awkward sitting position while Harte"s movements didn"t cease for a moment.

William moved between Ellis and the headboard, bracketing Ellis with his spread legs. The master"s hard cock pressed against his lower back, and Ellis squirmed, half-wishing it was inside him.

Then William bent his knees and moved Ellis"s legs on top of them so Ellis was spread and bared to Harte, who immediately took advantage and began licking his hole.

Ellis cried out in surprise—Harte had never done
this
to him, either, and he was almost as good as his master, eager and greedy and not afraid to make obscene noises.

“Sir,” Ellis said, stuttering. “It"s too—” But William"s hand was on his cock, and obviously coming wasn"t forbidden or else he wouldn"t be stroking so expertly.

“Put your hands on your knees,” William said, and Ellis did, gripping tightly enough that bruises were imminent.

“Taste so good,” Harte said absurdly, making Ellis groan in embarrassment.

He could feel William"s cock heavy against his back, sliding a little thanks to his pre-come. William"s hand—the one that wasn"t torturing his cock—travelled up his stomach and chest to grip his neck, fingers lightly digging into his jaw as his head was tipped back and held against William"s chest. Ellis experienced a brief flash of panic—William"s hand on
Harte’s
neck, clenching, tightening—but then Harte"s tongue wriggled into his hole, and Ellis jerked, forcing his cock through William"s fist.

Suddenly it was all too much—he"d never had so much attention paid to him at once. William bit his ear and Ellis cried out, coming and not even able to warn Harte, who got come in his hair, or William, who now had it all over his hand. Ellis could 102

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

barely breathe for panting, but Harte"s sharp cry broke through his reverie. Harte had come against the bedspread, turned on by
licking
Ellis.

William was perfectly still behind him, the only movement the throbbing of his cock against Ellis"s slickened back. Ellis grabbed Harte"s arm and pulled him up and to the side so he was kneeling by William"s thigh. Then Ellis turned over and slithered down William"s front, his chest brushing against the straining cock.

There was sheer lust tinged with approval in William"s eyes as Ellis took him into his mouth. He heard Harte moan, and then he was on William"s cock as well, laving stripes up the side until his tongue met Ellis"s mouth. Ellis broke suction to lick up and down the shaft with Harte, their tongues meeting and entangling in wet, messy kisses around and over William"s cock.

Then Ellis moved down to mouth and suckle his balls as Harte took up at the crown, and William had a hand on both their heads, not pushing, just showing contentment.

William hissed and Harte began stroking him, the way eased by all the saliva and pre-come. His hand practically flew, and then Harte grabbed Ellis by the hair and pulled him up, over William"s furious cock. Ellis heart pounded as William"s hips began to jerk and Harte twisted his wrist just so over the head. William shouted and Ellis closed his eyes, come splashing onto his face, which was held in place by Harte"s tight fingers in his hair.

“Yes,” Harte hissed, full of satisfaction and renewed arousal.

Opening his eyes once he was sure none of the come had landed near them, Ellis saw William staring at him with near-painful intensity.

“Ellis,” he said quietly, his breath evening out a little. “
Very
good.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and Ellis smirked at 103

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

Harte, who looked at him hungrily. Then William said, “Harte, clean him up.”

Ellis barely blinked before he was on his back, straddled by an eager Harte with an even more eager tongue. Harte"s first lick was elegant, seductive, but he grew almost frenzied as he continued to eat William"s come.

His body was making little rocking motions, and Ellis was hard again in seconds. He knew William was watching, and that sent tingles all along his spine. He wanted to show William that he could be good—worthy.

Ellis gripped Harte"s arse and brought their cocks together.

Harte immediately picked up on the idea and began to grind down onto Ellis.

There was only the sound of panting, moaning, and occasional curse words from Harte"s exceptionally filthy mouth.

They came together, or near enough. Harte went completely limp on top of him, and Ellis rolled him off and onto his back, where he remained, a blissful smile on his soft features. Ellis sat up and crawled to where William was still resting against the headboard, his cock thick but quiescent in the dark brown nest of curls between his thighs.

BOOK: At His Throat, a Promise
12.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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