The Copper Horse #2 Pride (5 page)

Erik had been
fierce as he bent him over the table. Each thrust sent Reuben’s
mind into dark oblivion as that lovely cock hit the wonderful
bundle of nerves hidden within his body. The act itself might have
seemed brutal, but for Reuben, it was the sweetest conclusion after
long minutes, God, maybe hours of wonderful teasing.

His mind was
blank when Jack led him to the bathroom. Today was as exciting as
yesterday was horrible, like being taken from the pit of hell fire
straight into heaven.

“Ah, we need to
wash you. The master’s been unusually messy today,” Jack noted,
scooting down to look at Erik’s backside.

“Uhm, yeah, it
got out of hand.”

It took one
look from Jack for the embarrassment to be back in the pit of his
stomach. “You were screaming. Shall I use some salve to soothe your
insides?”

“I was?” Reuben
cleared his throat. He didn’t even remember, but nodded anyway.

Jack sighed,
gently stroking Reuben’s back. “Did he hurt you today?”

They went into
the steamy bathroom, and Reuben wasn’t sure what to say. How could
he admit that he enjoyed the rough penetration? What kind of man
would that make him? And as fast and hard as the fucking was, it
hadn't hurt much, since Erik prepared his ass properly. It was
nothing like the forced intrusions of strangers. There was a
tenderness to everything his master did.

“A bit,” he
said in the end. After all, it didn’t really matter much what Jack
thought about all this; Reuben had learned until now that the boy
wouldn’t help much, even if he had the best of intentions. He was
too worried about his own life.

Jack sighed,
his face a bit tense, and Reuben felt obliged to soothe him.

“Don’t worry,
Jack. I’m a big boy, learned a lot since I was brought here.”

But it didn’t
seem to work. Jack’s eyes were still firmly on the floor. “I
should... I am your groom, and it’s not right for him to be a brute
if you’re good.”

“I don’t think
he knows any better." Reuben shrugged, avoiding Jack’s gaze. "He
likes it that way."

Jack frowned as
he gestured for him to get into the tub. “It isn’t good to follow
good deeds with punishment, any trainer knows that. Maybe he would
understand it if I put it like that.”

Reuben’s lungs
clenched. “Please don’t tell him, Jack! He would beat me!” If Erik
thought Reuben hated what they did, he’d surely be sent away, back
into the gutter and away from Erik’s gentle hands.

Jack bit his
lip with a sad, tense expression. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your
fault he’s like that.”

Jack swallowed,
looking away, but he eventually reached for the sponge. “As much as
I am thankful for what he did for me, I can’t overlook his
cruelties towards the stallions.”

“You were the
one who said he could do as he pleased...” Reuben sank lower into
the water.

Jack snorted.
“Because he can.” There was something definitely off about his mood
today. Was this conversation still about last night? Jack soaped up
the sponge and used it to gently wash sweat off Reuben’s skin.

“He seems well
respected in Bylondon.”

Jack shook his
head. “He’s not respected, exactly. Everyone knows what he does,
but he is an important figure, being a Dal, and the greatest forger
around. Perhaps in all of Britain.”

Reuben
swallowed. “He only got called out on it once.”

“By someone
very foolish.” Jack looked up, tight-lipped. “Our master, he might
be good if we please him, but those who don’t, he hangs in the
dining room.”

“I think,
sometimes, that it’s his eyes. Like there’s a normal person and a
demon in him.” Reuben gave in to the fingers massaging his back.
Only now was he feeling the strain of the day. It seemed he was
‘giving in’ to a lot of things these days.

“Which one'd
you think made him kill Chestnut?” Jack sighed, his hands stilling
on Reuben’s body. “It was a year ago today.”

Despite feeling
sorry for his predecessor, Reuben couldn’t stomach the idea of
someone hurting Erik. “What exactly happened? Chestnut... he
attacked our master?”

“He did, but
how can you blame him. He was being used against his will,”
whispered Jack.

Reuben slouched
in the tub, lowering his eyelids as warmth took the soreness away.
That much was true. He himself enjoyed the kind of treatment Erik
offered, after learning about it and getting used to the shackles,
but what if he didn’t? Erik probably still suspected him of
pretending, so he could get more than he deserved. On his first day
at the mansion, Reuben hadn't been questioned about preferences.
Erik had plowed him until it hurt, as if Reuben really were an
animal that just needed to be tamed. With Erik’s cock. If Reuben
didn’t get his secret pleasures from the treatment, he would have
probably considered Erik a foul, cruel man with no regard for other
human beings.

“I suppose. He
must have been braver than me.”

“He was a
strong, proud man.” Jack hid behind Reuben’s back under the
pretense of washing his hair.

“How did he
cope?”

Jack sighed,
proceeding with the usual routine. “Anger. Often, he would be angry
at me as well...” he trailed off, his movements ceasing for a
second.

“Because of the
grooming?” Reuben gulped.

“That as
well... I think he resented the way I looked at him, but at the
time... I didn’t know any better,” whispered Jack.

Reuben frowned
and turned to face him. “What did you do?”

The boy
swallowed, averting his eyes. “Nothing. I was just... so
infatuated.”

“And he didn’t
like it.”

Jack bit his
lips, his face getting darker. “Depends.”

“Jack, spill
it.”

The boy
cringed. “We were... intimate at times.” He dropped the sponge into
the water, covering his face as he let out a choked sigh.

“God.... Did
Erik know?” Reuben stared at him with parted lips. It was
unbelievable.

The boy just
shook his head, pressing his balled fists against his eyes. There
was a tension around his lips, as if he was trying to regain
control but kept failing.

“Oh Jack. And
Chestnut let you do it?”

“He... no...”
Jack dropped his hands, looking at Reuben with reddened eyes. “I
let him have me.”

“And you were
the one saying servants aren’t allowed to touch the slaves.” Reuben
gave him a disapproving look.

Jack let out a
broken sob, curling up, with a long wail. “He—he wanted it...”

“But he didn’t
want Erik?” Reuben’s own words sounded harsher than he would have
wished, but he needed to understand what happened.

Jack flinched.
“He didn’t want to be
ridden
.”

“Oh. That seems
an important part of Erik’s likes.” Reuben swallowed. “Will you
take the cuffs off me?”

“I don’t want
another pony...” Jack squeezed the fabric of his pants.

Reuben opened
his eyes wider. “I’m not offering.” What was this boy thinking?

“Good.” Jack
didn’t hesitate anymore and dunked his hands in the water to
unshackle Reuben.

“So you’re
saying Chestnut fought the treatment every time?” Reuben pulled the
boy into a wet hug the moment his arms were free. Jack seemed to
need more support than the person he was supposed to be taking care
of. And just as expected, he broke down in sobs.

“It was so
horrible, Copper, he was so angry with me...”

“Why with you?”
Reuben petted his hair.

Jack sniffed,
his little body shaking as he clung to Reuben’s wet chest. “Erik
was... un... touchable...”

“But that’s not
your fault.”

“Didn’t
matter... he... I got hit sometimes.” Jack’s eyes were teary when
he looked up at Reuben. “I knew he hated it, and he hated me, but I
still loved him.” Jack squeezed his eyes shut, two huge drops
falling down into the water.

“Oh, silly
boy.” Reuben sighed, trying to give Jack the same peace as Jack
gave him the night before.

“I know. I was
so naive.” Jack sniffed, curling his shoulders as if he wanted to
shrink. If it weren’t for the tub between them, he’d probably end
up in Reuben’s lap. “He changed at some point, started to be nicer
about Erik. I thought he fell in love with him.”

“Wait!” Reuben
blinked faster. This made no sense. “He hated him but then... he
fell in love anyway?”

Jack shook his
head. “No, he was pretending so that Erik trusted him... And then
he attacked—and died....” He trailed off, the sorrow on his face
clear as fresh spring water.

Reuben gently
stroked his arm. ‘Died’. As if Chestnut just fell to the ground and
stopped breathing, not got his neck broken by Hans’s freakishly
strong arms. With this knowledge though, Reuben could sort of
understand why Erik was so particular about having a body guard and
restraining a slave. “Did you know he was planning the attack?” he
whispered.

Jack shook his
head, and his tear-filled eyes shot up at Reuben. “Please, don’t do
anything stupid. He will grow tired of you, eventually. I’m sure of
it!” he protested.

It was as if a
sharp needle pierced his heart, but Reuben quickly put on the mask
he wore for the world. A captive trying to cope with the horrendous
situation he was in. But the ruby stud in his ear reminded him of
just how much he didn’t want Erik to grow tired of him. “I’m sure
of it too,” he said and kissed the side of Jack’s head.

The boy sighed,
leaning against Reuben, and his body was slowly getting back to
normal. “You are amazing, Copper, so strong. And you don’t even
find me repulsive.”

“No, you’re a
sweet boy. You always do your best to take care of me.” There was
one person Reuben did find repulsive, though: a man who couldn’t
face the truth about himself, a man who couldn’t even face being
called by his own name anymore.

Frey Dal’s
study looked nothing like Erik’s. Located at the heart of a mansion
no less affluent as Bluefinger's, it was protected by a steel door
that was almost as thick as the length of Reuben’s forearm. There
were no windows, and even with all the copper and crystal lamps
lit, the tall, two story room seemed dim at best, bathed in a
yellow glow. In comparison to Erik’s office, this one seemed
gloomy, with its blood red walls and dramatic black furniture.
Their shape reminded Reuben of the decorative ornaments he’d seen
all around London, even of the Parliament with its sharp, vertical
lines and numerous spikes. Around the circular room stood four
life-sized silver statues depicting large-bosomed naked women. From
the words carved on the socles, he understood they depicted the
seasons, and they did in fact hold adequate attributes.

Behind a
massive desk were the first steps of a narrow staircase that
spiraled around the room, leading to an open gallery above them.
Bookshelves covered its wall, and even the outer side of a
partially open door on the highest level of the room. Erik looked
up at Reuben from where he sat on a fainting couch in front of the
desk. There was a dark red stain on the grey upholstery right next
to him, and Reuben wondered whether it was blood or a splatter of
wine.

“Don’t you want
to rest, Copper?”

“May I kneel,
Master?” Reuben asked. He was in his leather outfit, as he’d
brought Erik to the mansion in a rickshaw. After over a week, he
was getting the hang of it and even experimented with how fast he
could go. The horse mask stayed downstairs with the vehicle, but
with Erik’s protection and his body covered, Reuben didn’t feel as
intimidated as he usually was around Frey.

“By all means,
my dear.” Erik patted his thigh in clear invitation.

Reuben went to
his knees and put his chin on Erik’s thigh. Today, his hair was
tied into many small ponytails that stood up high on his head. His
master’s hand was gentle on his freshly shaved skin, fingers slowly
teasing his ear. Things were good between them again, and Reuben
found himself craving Erik’s attentions.

“Master, why is
the door as thick as if this were a dungeon?” he asked and casually
kissed the ghastly fingertips.

Erik chuckled.
“It’s his own prison. My brother is too scared to sleep, you see.
That’s his bedroom up there.” He nodded at the door high above
them. “He has many enemies, so he had those two rooms made with
steel walls a foot thick and then built the rest of the house
around it. And then had all the men who worked on this vault’s
ventilation killed.” Erik’s tone was carefree, even though Reuben
knew his master had many enemies as well. Maybe Erik was just more
courageous than his brother?

“So he is the
only one who knows how to get in or out?” Reuben asked. Even after
over a month spent with Erik, he was still terrified by these kinds
of ruthless people.

Erik’s mouth
curled into a pout. “The only one to know how to lock it, how to
escape, and how to block the airflow and suffocate any man who
locks himself in here.” He smiled. “But he’s not the only one to
know most of those books aren’t real. And if some of them are, they
are full of cunt.”

“Huh? Books?”
Reuben frowned and rubbed his chin against Erik’s thigh. It was
pleasantly hard, even if slim.

“The ones above
us. He keeps them for show, but my brother had always preferred
daggers and piano wires to paper.” Erik sighed, leaning down to
press a kiss to Reuben’s sensitive scalp.

“Oh. Right. He
doesn’t look like a someone who knows letters, but... full of
cunt?”

Erik burst out
laughing. “His books might be full of cunt, but in real life it’s
the cunts that are full of Frey.”

“So they’re...
picture books?” Reuben looked up at the lines of bookshelves. How
many could there be? It almost looked like there could be as many
as there were ants in a colony he’d once discovered in the backyard
of the bakery. He and his father had caught as many as possible and
ground them into the flour.