Duck! (Avian Shifters Book 1) (18 page)

Ori had healed well after his fall, only a slight scar still lingering on his left forearm. Raynard ran a knuckle along it. Ori swallowed rapidly. He’d expected to be whipped as a punishment for that tumble. He’d have taken whatever Raynard had dished out and thanked him for beating him senseless over an accident. Raynard remembered the look in his fledgling’s eyes so well, the pure desperation.

Time for his next lesson in the difference between submitting to a club full of fools and one good master…

“Just because I want to,” Raynard whispered into Ori’s ear. “Because you belong to me and tonight you’ve earned the right to have a few extra marks to show it.”

As easily as the words left his lips, Raynard sensed any lingering fear leave Ori. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told his master that the knowledge it was a punishment was the only thing he’d hated about being whipped.

Ori took a slow, deep breath and looked up at Raynard. The same desperation to please was in his eyes again, but now it was mitigated by the knowledge that Raynard was already pleased with him, and tempered with the realisation that from that moment on, a whipping would be a sign of that and nothing else.

Satisfied they understood each other, Raynard turned away. He picked up a whip from a table where a selection had been laid out for the use of any avian with a high enough rank. Raynard didn’t look around the room, but he knew full well that there were already a dozen or more men watching them, waiting to see exactly what the new hawk intended to do with his submissive.

Raynard ran the leather through his fingers as he turned his complete attention to the fledgling’s back. Ori’s shoulders were a little broader than they’d been when Raynard had first met him—the product of all the work he’d done setting the house in order, combined with frequent visits to the swimming pool. His collar formed a stark black line around his neck, screaming Raynard’s possession of him to anyone who was interested.

Raynard ran the whip over Ori’s skin as he stepped closer. A shiver raced through Ori, but it had nothing to do with fear. As Raynard looked down Ori’s body, the effect the prospect of a whipping had on him was obvious. Ori’s trousers weren’t tented in front of him because he was afraid.

Far more used to seeing Ori undressed than covered, Raynard itched to reach for Ori’s belt, to peel the fabric off and leave him standing naked at the whipping station. Raynard stepped away before he forgot all about the other men in the room and gave in to that temptation.

They might have seen Ori naked before, but that had been prior to Raynard collaring him. It wouldn’t happen again without a bloody good reason.

Raynard lifted his arm and flicked the leather against Ori’s back. Ori gasped as it connected for the first time. Raynard stepped forward and ran his hand across the mark the lash had left in its wake.

The whip had forced some heat into Ori’s skin. A pale red line appeared as blood rushed to transport sensations around his body as quickly as it could.

Ori said nothing as Raynard stepped back, raised his hand and let the whip fall against him once more. No need for an inspection this time. Another flick of Raynard’s wrist, and the whip kissed Ori’s back a third time.

The whip Raynard had chosen was far from the harshest implement that had rested on the table, and he knew how to make it dance against a man’s back in just the way he wanted. Each lash landed perfectly, decorating Ori’s skin according to Raynard’s exact wishes.

The rest of the club ceased to exist. Other men might have flooded into the space to observe, but they were irrelevant. Ori’s ragged breaths filled Raynard’s world. He watched, enchanted, as Ori dropped his head back a little on each stroke, as if he was already struggling to keep his reactions in check.

Each touch of leather, each touch from his master, appeared to push more and more pleasure into Ori until he didn’t know how to contain it. His hands clenched into fists above his head. One hand fumbled at the opposite wrist.

Raynard let the whip drop to his side as he watched the fingers of Ori’s right hand wrapped around his left wrist. It was as close to his rest position as his bondage would allow. He was doing exactly what he was supposed to do when he didn’t know what to do with himself. Even then, Raynard sensed that his words were in Ori’s head, guiding everything he did.

Raynard moved closer to stand at Ori’s side. He rested his hand gently on Ori’s back, below all the whip marks.

“Look at me. Look at your master.”

Ori blinked open his eyes as he turned his head, his expression unfocused, clouded with pleasure.

Raynard held Ori’s gaze as he lifted his hand and stroked his fingers tenderly across the whip marks. They were still light, even after the repeated contact of the leather. Ori arched into his touch as far as he could. His eyes fell helplessly closed as more and more ecstasy seemed to rush into his body with each mark Raynard’s fingers passed over.

“Ten more,” Raynard said. “Count them out for me.”

He waited at Ori’s side until his fledgling found his voice.

“Yes, sir.”

The words were barely whispered, but the only person who needed to be able to hear them was easily close enough to catch each syllable.

Raynard stepped back. The whip cracked more loudly against Ori’s skin as Raynard let a little more of his strength fall against him.

“One, sir.”

A darker red line flourished over the lighter ones.

Raynard brought the lash down again.

“Two, sir.”

He only gave Ori just enough time to make his responses before he brought the whip down on him again and again. Each time, Ori counted it out for him. Three…four…five…six…

“Seven, sir.”

Another kiss of the leather. A little cry as the whip cracked against Ori’s skin, harder than before.

“Eight, sir.”

Every line of muscle in Ori’s body was taut and perfect. His head was tipped back toward the ceiling, but his voice was strong. He was breathless with pleasure, not pain.

Raynard snapped the leather again.

Ori whimpered. His head dropped forward. “Nine, sir.”

If he’d been a step farther away, Raynard wouldn’t have been able to make out the words.

One more. Raynard raised his arm higher, the whip cracked against Ori’s back, crossing several of the other dark lines he’d already painted on his skin.

A scream filled the air as Ori’s body jerked. He seemed to rise into the air, hanging from the cuffs. Then the world snapped back into focus. The yell faded away. Ori collapsed, limp within his bonds.

Tossing the whip aside, Raynard strode forward. Ori managed to drag his head up to look at him, even while he wasn’t quite capable of supporting himself on his own feet. He licked his lips and swallowed rapidly as he tried to find his words. “Ten, sir.”

Raynard slid his hand into Ori’s hair as he tugged him forward, just far enough to lean his head on his master’s shoulder. “Good boy.”

Ori dragged a satisfied breath into his body as he heard the whispered praise.

He trembled slightly as Raynard slid another hand around his waist and encouraged him to rest more of his weight against his master’s body. Despite Raynard’s coaxing, Ori he stayed stiff, holding himself slightly away from Raynard in a way he hadn’t done since he’d first come to Raynard’s bed.

“Hush,” Raynard whispered to him. He pressed a kiss against the top of his head. “I’ve got you.” Even if they did have an audience…

Another second of hesitation, and Ori relaxed against him. He rubbed his head tenderly against Raynard’s shoulder, nuzzling against him in an effort to get even closer than was physically possible.

“That’s right,” Raynard whispered to him.

As he stroked his fingers through Ori’s hair, part of Raynard wanted to look up, to meet the eyes of all the men around them and stare them down one by one, to mark his territory and scream his ownership of the man in his arms.

He resisted the urge. They could be dealt with at any time. Raynard kept his attention firmly on Ori. Some things were too important to be put off until a later date. Ori needed his master right then, and Raynard was no more able to deny his submissive whatever he needed, than Ori was capable of disobeying his master.

Raynard smiled softly against the top of his fledgling’s head. “Good boy.”

Chapter Nine

Ori arched lazily against the lumpy mattress. With his eyes closed and his mind lost in memories, he was almost willing to swear that he could feel the soft cotton sheet beneath him rubbing against the whip marks on his back.

Of course, the marks were actually long gone. They’d faded slowly, but they hadn’t been able to last forever. Ori sighed sleepily to himself as he turned onto his side. The breeze from the open balcony window caressed his bare skin as he lifted his hand to his neck and traced the line of his collar—a mark that would never fade.

It was getting darker. Raynard would be home soon. Ori rolled his shoulders, stretching his aching muscles, before snuggling back into the little nest his blankets had formed around him. His eyes dropped closed, only to snap open when he heard the fluttering of wings on the balcony. Ori barely had time to blink before Raynard was in his human form and striding through the big open windows.

Ori tried to scramble off the mattress and onto his feet; he failed. He didn’t even have time to sit up before Raynard was there, his lips on Ori’s mouth, his body covering Ori’s smaller frame as he pushed him down onto the mattress.

Wrapping his hands tightly around Ori’s wrists, Raynard pinned his arms down on either side of his head.

Ori managed a brief “I…” before his words were swallowed by the kiss. He smiled against his master’s mouth. Words were wasted when Raynard had just finished stretching his wings; far better to simply part his lips and offer himself freely to his master.

Raynard was already hard. His erection slid against Ori’s skin as he pressed him down more firmly against the sheet. Ori squirmed and tried to pull his legs back. It wasn’t easy when Raynard didn’t seem capable of understanding what he was trying to do.

For the first time, Raynard didn’t appear to be holding anything back. There was no attempt to gentle his hold on Ori, no checking to see if Ori was able to keep up with his demands.

Raynard’s teeth nipped at Ori’s lips, harsh and demanding, pulling a whimper from him as he finally managed to draw his knees back. Raynard’s shaft nudged against his already slicked hole. He immediately pushed into him. No hesitation, no doubt of his absolute right to thrust his cock deep inside Ori whenever he wanted.

The lube Ori had applied while Raynard was out stretching his wings only eased Raynard’s way so much. Ori arched against the sheet, his hands clenching into fists above Raynard’s grip on him, even as he tilted his hips back and tried to spread himself wider and offer himself to his master more readily.

Raynard barely stilled inside him before he pulled away, and thrust back into his hole. Ori’s prostate sung out as Raynard pounded into him again and again. The sudden stretch started to ease, and soon, there was nothing to take away the pleasure Raynard pushed into him with every movement.

Hard ever since Raynard had taken flight, Ori desperately tried to hold back. In the half-light, he saw Raynard staring down at him, naked possession flashing in his gaze.

Ori did his best to rock in time with Raynard’s movements, to clench around him, to do anything he could to make it perfect for his master. But part of him knew that wasn’t really required. All Ori had to do was be there, waiting and willing, when his master came back. All he had to do in order for Raynard to be pleased with him was to be the kind of avian who loved it when his master let the hawk side of himself loose and forgot his human manners.

All Ori had to do was love being owned, and marked, and possessed by his master. Nothing Raynard could ask of him would ever be easier.

Pure bliss shone in Raynard’s gaze as he stared down at him. And that was the moment when Ori realised that Raynard truly felt free to be who he was with him, just as Ori felt safe to be himself with his master.

Raynard thrust into him again, rough and seemingly determined to claim a bit of Ori’s soul with every movement.

Ori gasped. He pulled at Raynard’s hold on him, just for the joy of feeling Raynard’s grip tighten around his skin. Somehow, he knew Raynard would understand, that he wouldn’t think he truly wanted to get away from him. He was safe in the knowledge that Raynard would never actually release him no matter how hard he struggled. There was no room for begging when his master was in this mood. No room for disobedience either.

Another hard thrust. Raynard dropped Ori’s wrist and pushed his hand down between their bodies. He jacked Ori’s cock hard, fast and unrelenting, his eyes daring Ori to come without permission. Ori bit down on his bottom lip as he scrambled for control, his free hand clawing at Raynard’s shoulder.

“Come.”

Ori tossed his head back, his nails biting into Raynard’s skin as he came, spilling between them. Gasping for breath, Ori struggled to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss the sight of his master coming just a moment after him.

Raynard jerked, throwing his head back. Then each muscle froze as he lost himself in the pleasure racing through his veins. The whole world seemed to stop as Raynard came, as if the sight of him distracted the entire universe, and it had to pause to admire the sheer perfection of him.

As the last of his ecstasy drained from his expression, Raynard’s strength seemed to leave him. All his weight came to rest on Ori, pinning him to the blanket from tip to toe.

No pretence, no politeness. Ori was Raynard’s to do with as he pleased. If Raynard wanted to sleep like that all night, Ori knew he’d love every minute he spent trapped underneath him, barely even able to draw breath as his muscles cramped and his joints turned numb.

All too soon, Raynard came sufficiently back to his usual self to roll away and lie next to Ori. It wasn’t a large mattress. A double would never have made it up the stairs into the little attic room.

On the tiny single, they had no choice but to snuggle as they rested. As much as Ori wanted to lie motionless and not disturb Raynard, he couldn’t help but try to rearrange himself a little more comfortably as the minutes passed.

“Still sore, fledgling?” Raynard stroked his hands down Ori’s arm as he guided him nearer.

Ori helplessly leaned into Raynard’s touch, letting it soothe the muscles it passed over. “It’s fine, sir.”

Raynard gathered him close, cradling him against the heat of his body. “You’ll feel better once you complete your full shift.”

Ori burrowed a little deeper into Raynard’s embrace.

“Nervous?”

Ori shrugged.

“You’ll be fine,” Raynard promised.

“Yes, sir.”

It would be fine. Ori knew that. He rubbed his cheek against Raynard’s chest, taking strength from his strength.

A sneaky little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he’d thought it would be fine last time too. But everyone’s attitude toward him had changed once he’d completed his half shift and… Ori held back a sigh.

Everything would be fine. Raynard’s right hand rested idly on his chest, just next to Ori’s head. Reaching up, Ori stroked his fingers over the tattoo on the inside of Raynard’s wrist.

Raynard lifted his head to see what he was doing. Ori was about to pull his hand back and apologise for overstepping some sort of invisible line, but Raynard merely bent his hand back, offering the species mark to be inspected more easily.

Ori cautiously ran his fingers over the mark, tracing the jagged lines of it with his fingertip.

“What does it feel like, sir? Shifting, I mean,” he asked.

Raynard seemed to think about it for a long time. “It’s as if a part of you that can’t flourish when you’re in human form is being freed,” he offered eventually. “The first few times can be difficult. It can be painful until you get used to it. But it’s worth it. So very worth it…”

Ori smiled as he stared up at the expression of pure peace on Raynard’s face. Then his smile faltered. “Do you wish…?” His courage deserted him, the rest of the question died, unspoken.

“Ori?” Raynard prompted.

Ori frowned across at the window. “Do you wish I was a hawk instead, sir?”

Raynard chuckled. “Two male hawks seldom lie comfortably together. I doubt even a male and female would make a good pairing if it wasn’t for some shifters’ innate desire to breed.”

Ori glanced up at him.

“I’m very happy with the man I have, fledgling. Don’t let all that nonsense a few fools spout about your supposed
betters
turn you into as much of an idiot as them. All species have their strengths and weaknesses, the things they are known for.”

“What are ducks known for, sir?” Ori whispered, his fingers still tracing Raynard’s tattoo.

“Most find their way into the service of others for good reason. They’re hard workers. Strong. Resilient. They enjoy pleasing other people. They’re loyal, dedicated and affectionate. Ducks have always made fantastic submissives,” Raynard recounted, almost matter-of-factly.

Ori dipped his head as a pleased little blush stole its way to his cheeks.

“And there are a couple of lesser known traits,” Raynard went on, his tone of voice changing slightly. “Some of them have a way of sneaking under a hawk’s skin so that when he least expects it, he finds himself with a servant who becomes a submissive, with a submissive who somehow becomes much more to him than even that.”

Ori couldn’t bring himself to lift his gaze and see what might be in Raynard’s eyes. Instead, he kept his head on Raynard’s chest and listened to his master’s heart beat out a slow, steady and reassuring rhythm, while his own pulse raced faster and faster.

Raynard took hold of Ori’s hand and held it up so his wrist was clearly visible to them both. As Ori watched, Raynard painted a symbol on the skin with his fingertip—mapping out where the mark stating his species would rest, just over the vein.

“A copy of it will need to be added here too,” Raynard said, transferring his attention to the tag hanging from Ori’s collar.

“I’d like that, sir,” he whispered.

Raynard pressed a kiss to the top of his head and relaxed back against the mattress.

As the room turned cooler and the breeze continued to swirl through the open window, Ori curled closer still to his master’s warmth and strength.

I love you too, sir.

He couldn’t make himself say the words right then, any more than his master seemed inclined to say them out loud before Ori had a mark on his wrist stating who he was.

Ori smiled slightly as he started to doze. Maybe completing his first full shift was something to look forward to after all…

* * * * *

“Sir?” Ori looked up as Raynard reached for the buckle on his collar.

“The tradition of each avian appearing bare before the leaders of his nest the first time he completes a full shift exists for a reason,” Raynard informed Ori, in the same serious tone that seemed to have lurked in his voice all day.

Ori swallowed. His clothes lay on a chair to his right. It was easy not to care about them, but his collar…

The leather moved around his throat as Raynard hooked his fingers through it. “As much as I’d like to leave it on, it’s best that you don’t accidently throttle yourself the first time you shift.”

It was a risk Ori would far rather have taken than feel his collar being removed, but he forced himself to accept Raynard’s decision. He stood meek and silent as his neck was bared, and left bare for the first time in so many months, without even a silver chain to take its place.

Ori ran his hand over his neck. His eyes met Raynard’s. He moved both his hands behind his back and took up his usual waiting position.

Raynard brushed their lips together. Ori tightened his grip around his opposite wrist as he cherished the brief moment of reassurance. Everything would be fine. Raynard had told him that several times, and he believed his master.

“Go on, fledgling,” Raynard ordered, nodding toward the curtains lining one wall of the shadowy little space.

Nudging the thick velvet folds apart, Ori slipped reluctantly through the gap and onto the stage. A dozen of the elders sat in a semi-circle, every one of them fully clad in a perfectly tailored suit. Between them, they represented almost all the leading avian species.

Taking a deep breath, Ori moved to the middle of the shifting stage and settled himself in his familiar rest position to wait for an order. He felt the gazes of all twelve men running over his naked body, assessing him, some of them with more appreciation than others.

More than a few of them were familiar in that he suspected they were men who had issued orders to him before he had been taken under Raynard’s protection. They hadn’t all been pleasant orders to follow. They weren’t all pleasant men.

Ori closed his eyes for a moment as more and more tension rushed into his body. As he looked up again, a movement at the back of the room caught his attention. Raynard stepped through the door in the far corner and found a vantage point along the back wall. Ori’s nerves settled when he saw him. He noticed a flash of silver in Raynard’s hand and recognised the tag on his collar.

His master was waiting for him. All he had to do was get this over with, and he could go back to Raynard, and to his collar, and everything really would be fine. Ori looked to the highest backed chair in the middle of the semi-circle, to the leader of the nest.