At His Throat, a Promise (53 page)

With his hands on Ellis"s hips, William began to fuck him, slowly so that he felt every inch. Gaining the rhythm quickly, Harte braced his hands on Ellis"s chest and began to rise and fall on his dick at the same time. Ellis could do absolutely nothing 457

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

except experience his body fucking and being fucked at the same time. There was nothing outside sensation, nothing more than being used, being experienced, being owned.

William"s thick cock, used so masterfully, grazed against Ellis"s prostate almost strategically—not every stroke or even every other, as if he knew how close Ellis was to losing himself.

How could he not be, with Harte bouncing on his cock, tightness and heat overwhelming him, and thickness and heat inside him. It was surrounding him in every possible way, and he didn"t think he"d be punished if he came from it.

“Ellis, don"t you dare, not until Harte does.” Ellis bemoaned the cruelty of his master as he mercilessly clamped down on the orgasm that was demanding to be released.

He forced himself not to feel Harte sliding up and down on him, the lubricant wearing a little thin and the rawness adding to the countless sensations. He refused to let himself feel the wonderful fullness inside him and the cock that speared him without mercy, almost challenging him, daring him to come.

But he was good—he was always so good—and he fisted Harte"s cock with hard strokes, not caring if the boy wanted to hold off to prolong the sensation. He needed Harte to come
now
because he needed to come
now.

Harte was whimpering and crying out, making horrible, perfect little noises that made it very hard to pretend he wasn"t between the two people he wanted most in the world in a circle of feeling good and making someone else feel good.

William"s hand met Ellis"s as he groped and kneaded Harte"s tight sac, and finally Harte came, arching so hard it looked painful, his face a miasma of pleasure, his sounds lusty and decadent as his come splashed Ellis"s chest.

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Harte would have fallen over if William hadn"t wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled him off Ellis, setting him to the side as he continued to fuck Ellis.

Bending him nearly in half, William leaned over Ellis, his arms like bars on either side of Ellis"s head.

“Feeling good?” he whispered, breath warm and sweet against Ellis"s mouth.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, the intimacy between them somehow increased because of their closeness. Beside them, Harte was watching with something more important than desire in his eyes.

“I love making you feel good.” William"s hips ground into Ellis, his cock searching out every single crevice inside him, making his body sing.

“Do I… ” Ellis cut himself off to moan when William"s aim proved true, his hands circling William"s biceps. “Do I make you feel good?”

William almost looked confused for a second before his mouth crashed onto Ellis"s, his kiss taking and taking. “Fuck, yes. Every second, Ellis. Even when we"re not doing this.” His thrusts had slowed so he could make himself understood, and Ellis trembled under the intensity. “You
are
good. You feel amazing. Don"t I… ” William"s hand moved to stroke Ellis"s cock, and coherence was no longer a real option. “Don"t I tell you?” Though he didn"t have explicit permission to come, William had said to wait until after Harte, and that would have to be enough. His master"s kindness, his uncertainty, his fucking
cock
were all too much to bear, and Ellis came and
came
and then William"s cock probed his sweet spot and it felt like another climax was tearing through him before the first had time to finish.

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He knew he was crying out and it was more noise than he liked to make, but William"s own roar of completion drowned him out and Ellis didn"t feel as bad.

Instead of moving off Ellis, William let himself slip from his body and remained on top of him, his hands smoothing over Ellis"s face, chest, stomach, legs, anywhere he could reach. Ellis basked under the attention, unused to it being paid to him when it was no longer about sex.

Sometimes it was hard to reconcile this William, whose nose was drawing a line up his neck in a half-predatory, half-affectionate gesture, with the William who had pulled him off Harte at the Lounge over half a year ago. Could things really have changed so drastically that now he had the type of relationship he"d envied his entire life? It was more than just a master and his slaves. He wouldn"t let anyone tell him differently.

“Don"t I tell you enough, Ellis?” William asked, reminding Ellis that he"d never answered that question before.

In a moment of inhibited honesty and without even a twinge of fear of reprimand, Ellis said, “It could never be enough.” Then William did move off him, and Ellis regretted his hasty words. But instead of censure, he was pulled against William"s hard body, and Harte wriggled up behind him sleepily, slender arms trying to wrap around both of them.

“I"ll make it enough,” William whispered, breath hot against Ellis"s ear. He shivered and drew himself closer to his master.

Maybe if Ellis let him, let William tell him and
really
believe him… maybe then it would be enough. William"s fingers traced Ellis"s slave collar and he smiled, possessiveness and pleasure wrapped up in his rare grin. Ellis"s hand covered William"s.

Yes, it could be enough.

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Nearly a month went by. Ellis still felt scared sometimes, but never of William—just about whether or not he was safe or good enough or deserving. William was more patient than Ellis really deserved, reassuring him whenever it was evident that he was uncertain. Harte was as sweet as always, never leaving him alone to brood for very long, and it was hard to feel lost when he was around.

Ellis did his best to please his master, and in return, William went out of his way to make sure Ellis was happy.

The thought that occupied his mind the most, however, concerned what he was going to do when he turned twenty. It was still some time away, but his life here wasn"t permanent, and that 461

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

didn"t seem fair. Had this never happened to another slave? Had a slave never fallen for his master or vice versa? Was it just one of those things not talked about?

He knew Harte planned on returning to William. Maybe they would get married. It was rare between men but it certainly happened. Ellis couldn"t think of one instance, however, where a former slave married his former master. It
must
happen, though.

Not that it mattered, really. If Harte did return and married William, that didn"t really leave a place for him. And if Harte didn"t return, Ellis was certain he"d be a second choice, a placeholder in the hope that Harte
did
come back.

A knock on Ellis"s door drew him away from his contemplations. He put down the book he"d been trying to read for over an hour, his rampant thoughts giving him no respite.

“Come in,” he said, still uncomfortable with giving permission, but getting used to it.

It was Harte and not William. “Master wants us in the study.” Ellis frowned at the serious tone. “Is everything okay?”

“I don"t know. I don"t think so.”

Harte"s nervousness was showcased in the way he gripped Ellis"s hand as they made their way to the study. Ellis"s stomach was in knots thinking about what William could want, sending for him so officially. Usually he would just holler up the stairs or let Harte do it for him.

As always in the study, they hesitated before sitting or kneeling. When William needed them for lessons, they sat on the sofa. When it was personal, they knelt beside his chair, side by side.

Ellis"s heart sank farther when William indicated they were to kneel.

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“I just got a phone call from Fen. He"s been assigned, for his first solo case, to defend Richard Develyn.” He looked at them both a moment, but neither recognised the name. Ellis frowned in confusion.

William sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He looked old all of a sudden; Ellis didn"t like it. He reached out, braver than he felt, and touched William"s ankle in support.

William"s smile was harried and tired, but he nodded.

“Develyn was Gabriel"s master.”

Ellis picked up on the tense right away. “But he"s not anymore?” Ellis inhaled sharply. “You mean because Gabriel has a new master, right?”

Harte"s eyes were wide as he looked between Ellis and William. “Master, is Gabriel coming back here?”

“Just… just let me say this, all right?” Both slaves nodded. Ellis knew. He just knew. The hand that wasn"t resting on William"s leg searched out Harte"s, but Harte jerked his away.

“Gabriel"s… he"s no longer with us. He took his own life.” To Ellis"s horror, Harte laughed. “That"s so stupid,” he said, shaking his head. “He wouldn"t have done that. He knew he could have come to us. There would be no reason for him to do that! Not when we could have
saved
him!” His voice was growing louder and more hysterical. William didn"t try to rein him in. “Why would you say something like that? He promised me, remember?” Harte turned to Ellis. “Don"t you remember? He
promised
he would be okay!”

Uncaring that Harte was resisting, Ellis threw his arms around him and pulled him in, using all his strength to keep him close. But 463

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Harte was strong in his own right, and grief had him struggling, panicking. He squirmed out of Ellis"s grasp and ran right from the room. The silence was weighted until a door slammed upstairs, and William sat back in his chair, a hand covering his eyes.

“He"s right to blame me.”

Ellis didn"t like William being self-pitying—it wasn"t how he saw the man in his head. “It"s Develyn"s fault and no one else"s,” he corrected.

“I tried to look out for him, to check in with Develyn to see what I could find out. He doesn"t even keep servants—I had no way of knowing.”

“Exactly,” Ellis said, rubbing William"s ankle and hoping he was in some way comforting.

Gabriel was dead. Ellis had known from the very moment he"d met that boy that there was a sword hanging over his head. He"d seemed tragic, his end inevitable. It was hard to believe that he was gone, though. Ellis had known quite a few people to die in his time, including two of his masters, but he"d never actually
liked
any of them. It was strange to think that he wouldn"t see Gabriel again. Even though he probably wouldn"t have anyway, now knowing that he
couldn’t
made him feel a little sick.

“I told Fen I"d help him in the investigation. It"s the least I can do. We"re thinking about opening the case against Develyn
again
with the new… evidence. But I don"t have any real hope for it.

Develyn"s just too slippery, and Gabriel"s death was… very clearly… self-inflicted. He—”

“I don"t want to know,” Ellis said quickly, his gorge rising. He couldn"t handle that. Maybe it was cowardly, but he wanted his memory of Gabriel to be of the fun they"d had in the swimming pool that day so long ago now—not of what horrible end he"d 464

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come to.

“Of course, I apologise,” William said, looking at Ellis for the first time since Harte had bolted. “I sometimes forget you"re just a slave.”

Though Ellis knew he"d meant just a slave and not a lawyer, the words still stung.

“Are his other slaves still with him?” Ellis asked.

“Yes. We"re petitioning to have them taken away, but I don"t think it"ll go through. There"s no evidence that Develyn had anything to do with it.”

“But that he could drive a slave to suicide—doesn"t that say something about his abilities as a competent master?”

“If only it worked that way,” William lamented. “But it doesn"t. It"s absurd, but slaves are taught to rely on their masters for everything except love or affection. And if there is that—

love—between a master and slave, that is one of the very few grounds for having a slave removed. It"s sick—you can beat them, rape them, drive them to kill themselves, but you can"t
love
them?” Ellis, having been raised knowing he would go into slavery, knew that William was looking at the situation from an outsider"s perspective, but that didn"t make him any less right. It
was
wrong; it was unnatural.

William visibly gathered himself together, sitting up and straightening his clothing unnecessarily. “I"m leaving for a meeting with Fen to discuss our options. As far as I can tell, there"s nothing we can do, but I won"t be able to sleep knowing I did nothing.”

As clearly as if he said it, Ellis knew William was thinking about how Harte would feel if he did nothing. He drew his hand back, sensing that it was neither wanted nor needed.

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“You"ll… look after Harte?” William looked down at him, brow drawn.

“Of course, Master.”

“You"re all right, aren"t you?” William asked in the voice of someone who hoped the answer was yes.

“Yes, Master.” It didn"t matter what the truth was. It only mattered that William could count on him. William had a job to do, and that was more important than forcing him to deal with whatever Ellis was feeling.

“Good boy.” William sighed, his broad hand cupping the back of Ellis"s head, tilting his face up for a kiss. It was soft, not needy, and Ellis tried to push reassurance through it, though he wasn"t sure if he"d succeeded.

William stepped around him and left. The front door closed a few moments later.

Ellis rested his arms and head on the seat of William"s chair and tried to collect himself. He couldn"t understand his feelings.

He"d only met Gabriel once, though he"d been with them a few days.

It was a long time before he realised why it was bothering him so much.