Duck! (Avian Shifters Book 1) (27 page)

Raynard’s cock was buried inside his arse. Raynard’s hands were holding him as tight as they could as he rammed into him again. It was impossible to think it was about anything other than dominance and ownership. Ori wasn’t a swan; he was a submissive. He was Raynard’s fledgling. He was simply a man who loved his master.

Permission to come not granted, Ori clung to his control as best he could. But, as his body rushed to the edge of pleasure, he found himself stopped short. His mind could think what it liked, but Ori knew in that moment, his body wasn’t going to allow him to come until Raynard gave the word.

His master owned him down to the core. Such decisions were no longer his to make.

Raynard pushed into him again and again, holding him on an edge he wasn’t allowed to fall from. Ori rocked against the mattress with each deep thrust. His hands clenched around fistfuls of the sheet as mewing little whimpers escaped him.

His cheek rubbed against the bedspread as he forced another breath of air into his lungs. Raynard’s scent clung to the sheets, seeming to envelop Ori in his presence.

Suddenly, Raynard yelled his pleasure. The whole bed shook as he delivered a final series of rapid thrusts. Ori closed his eyes and relished his master’s satisfaction as Raynard came inside him.

He remained frozen in place even after Raynard pulled away. Head down, arse up. They’d said that was a natural position for a duck. Apparently, it was a natural position for a swan, too. Ori stayed that way for a long time, panting for breath, not sure if he could move without coming.

Fabric rustled behind Ori as Raynard dispensed with his clothes. A moment later, Raynard caressed Ori’s upturned buttocks, teasing the sensitive skin and making him whimper. Finally a tap against one cheek prompted Ori to try to move. Kneeling upon the bed, he turned toward his master.

Raynard was just pushing the last of his discarded clothes off the bed. He sighed his contentment as he relaxed back against the mattress. Ori nibbled at his bottom lip as he watched Raynard settle himself to rest. There was a sensitive spot on his lip, where Raynard’s teeth had caught him almost hard enough to draw blood. Ori ran his tongue over it, relishing the sensations it sent spiralling through him.

“Come here.”

The first word almost had Ori spilling onto the sheet. Somehow, he managed to shuffle forward without tripping over his orgasm en route. Raynard wrapped his hand around Ori’s cock as Ori reached his side—his grip tight and perfect.

Ori met Raynard’s eyes. There was a touch of amusement mixed in with the sleepiness and the afterglow, but all the anger and confusion from earlier in the day was gone, for now at least. Placing his own hands behind his back, Ori knelt next to Raynard and arranged himself in something as close to his rest position as he could get. With his knees spread wide apart and his head bowed, he watched Raynard toy with him.

Raynard had always liked to hold him like that, to cradle Ori’s erection in the palm of his hand and know that he had complete control over him. He was treating Ori in exactly the same way he had when he thought he was a duck, and Ori had never been more grateful to be so painfully frustrated in his life.

“Come.”

The word was said at his master’s discretion, and according to his own timetable. Ori knew that. He also knew he’d never been more thankful to hear it spoken.

He came—lights flashing, senses spinning, and his master stroking him rapidly through his orgasm. Raynard kept pumping Ori’s shaft long after his orgasm ended.

Ori whimpered, too sensitive to truly enjoy Raynard’s touch right then, too lost in his submission to even consider protesting. Gradually, Raynard slowed his hand movements of his volition.

Ori managed to blink open his eyes. His cum decorated Raynard’s stomach in long creamy ropes. Ori opened his eyes even wider. Raynard chuckled as he scooped up some of the semen and proffered it to Ori’s lips.

Ori automatically opened his mouth to receive it, and the next few fingers-full too, cherishing the intimacy of the offering.

When Raynard slid his freshly licked-clean fingers into Ori’s hair and guided his head down, Ori happily lapped the trails directly off Raynard’s skin, gaining a little taste of his master at the same time. Murmuring his approval, Ori pressed lick after lick, kiss after kiss, against Raynard’s body. He rubbed his face against Raynard’s skin too, nuzzling him, trying to soak up his presence through his every pore until he finally fell still, exhausted, with his head resting against Raynard’s chest.

“I love you too, sir. So much.”

For a full minute, Ori’s head moved up and down in time with Raynard’s breathing and Raynard stayed silent. Ori was just about to apologise, sure he had said the wrong thing, when his master finally spoke.

“I know you do, fledgling.”

Ori glanced up at him.

Raynard’s smile was gentle as he looked down at Ori. Raynard didn’t say anything else, but he ruffled Ori’s hair, and Ori soon found himself snuggled contentedly under the blankets, tucked in close to his master’s side.

For just a little while before he fell asleep, it was so easy for him to pretend he was still an ugly little duckling, nothing had changed, and everything really was perfect.

Chapter Fourteen

Ori tensed as he realised he was no longer alone. Someone was watching him. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted Raynard standing in the kitchen doorway.

Turning, Ori pushed his hair off his face with the back of his wrist. Raynard’s gaze trailed slowly up and down Ori’s body. Ori looked down and followed Raynard’s example. Naked but for his collar, the only thing that hid any part of his skin was a good layer of dust.

There were thicker smudges here and there, where he’d managed to make himself especially dirty while throwing himself into his neglected duties.

When Ori looked up, Raynard was smiling, but there was something else in his expression as well, something Ori couldn’t decipher.

“You may be the only avian I’ve ever met who can look happier scrubbing floors than surrounded by luxury.”

Ori bit his bottom lip as he set his cloth on the kitchen table, still not entirely sure if his master was pleased with him for being the way he was, or if he quietly hated him for it.

As he waited for an order, Ori arranged himself neatly in his rest position. Raynard walked across the room, then circled behind Ori, out of his field of vision.

“How much pain are you in?”

Ori would have tried to turn and face Raynard if he’d thought there was any chance he’d get away with it. But he also knew he’d have been ordered to turn around if Raynard wanted him to be able to see his master when he gave his answer.

“The work’s not too hard for me, sir,” he rushed out.

“I know. The pain comes from staying in one form for too long.”

Tension flooded back into Ori’s body, making his joints ache more than ever.

“Shower off. It’s time you stretched your wings properly.”

“Sir, I…”

Raynard settled his hands on Ori’s shoulders and turned Ori to face him.

Ori looked up, trying to find the right words, but the expression in Raynard’s eyes quickly informed him that there were no such words. There was nothing he could say. The decision had already been made.

“Yes, sir.”

When Ori came out of the shower set off the butler’s old room a few minutes later, Raynard had already left the kitchen. Making his way up the stairs into the main part of the house, Ori forced himself to keep going, past the study and the library where he and his master had spent so many wonderful hours and up the main stairs toward those that would eventually lead him to the attic.

They’d spent more than a few happy hours there when Raynard returned from his flights, but that had been before.

A noise behind Ori stopped him short.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“You said…” Ori frowned, looking from where Raynard stood in the library doorway, to the attic room staircase and back again.

“Not from there.”

Ori silently made his way back down the stairs.

“I can see the question in your eyes, fledgling—spit it out.”

“Because I’m a submissive, or because I’m a swan, sir?”

“Because the chances of you landing successfully on a small balcony on your first attempt are very slim,” Raynard said, ruffling his hair and pushing him toward the front door. “Get dressed.”

Opening the little coat closet in the hallway, Ori quickly scrambled into his clothes.

Raynard had a bag with him. He carried it out to the car and set it in the back seat before Ori could even open the door for him. Sitting uncomfortably on the passenger side, Ori glanced across at Raynard several times, but he still couldn’t read anything in his expression.

“Are we going to the pool, sir?” he finally blurted out, unable to bear the silence a moment longer.

“No.”

Ori fidgeted with the seam on his trouser leg.

No further information was offered, until they pulled up at a big set of iron gates in a part of the city Ori wasn’t familiar with.

Raynard took a key out of his trouser pocket and passed it to Ori. There was a padlock on the gates. Ori eventually made his brain add one and one together. Hurrying out of the car, he unlocked the heavy metal chain from the fancy ironwork. By the time he turned back to his master, Raynard was out of the parked car, his bag in his hand once more.

He strode through the gates ahead of Ori, and nodded for him to relock the barrier behind them both. Trapped in the park with Raynard, Ori scurried to keep up with him as he walked swiftly down one of the paths that wound away between the trees.

Far too busy wondering what the hell was going on to take much notice of the trees and bushes that filled the grounds, Ori came to an abrupt halt as they emerged from the foliage. A wooden bench was set in a clearing, looking out over a large lake.

Ori stared at it as if he’d never seen such a body of water before.

“Keep up, fledgling.”

Raynard put the bag on the bench and sat next to it, looking out over the water. Ori stepped closer, until he was standing directly before his master.

“Strip.”

“Sir?”

Raynard looked up at him as if he couldn’t see what the problem was. Ori wasn’t sure he knew what the trouble was, either.

“The park is owned by the nest. We let humans use it during the day, but they know better than to venture in here once it’s locked for the night.”

“It’s not that,” Ori muttered. “If you ordered me to strip in front of the whole nest, I would.”

That much was true. Ori felt as if he’d already spent half his life naked in front of Raynard, and he didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion. But that didn’t change the fact that, for the first time in so long, he found himself clinging to the protection his clothes offered him.

Raynard couldn’t order him to shift while he was still dressed. If he hadn’t been willing to let him shift in a collar, there was no way he could command him to change forms in a tangle of trousers, shirt and boots.

Raynard leaned back in his seat.

Ori shuffled his boots against the leaf litter. Not one word, no recriminations, no condemnation. Raynard didn’t need to say anything. Ori knew when he was failing to obey his master. He knew when he was being a bad submissive.

He held out all of three minutes before he started to remove his clothes. Folding them neatly, he set them on the seat next to Raynard, until he stood naked bar his collar.

Raynard reached out to relieve him of that too.

Ori wrapped his hand around his master’s wrist, as if some stupid little part of him thought he could actually stop him. “Please, sir…”

Raynard took no notice. In a second, the collar was gone. Raynard took Ori by the hand and led him into the centre of the clearing facing the lake.

“Your collar will still be here when you get back.”

Ori blinked up at him.

“So will I.”

Swallowing all his protests, Ori dropped his gaze to the ground between them.

Raynard tucked his knuckles under Ori’s chin and tilted his head back, demanding Ori look him in the eye. “Belonging to another man means accepting that there are times when he knows what is best for you—that he’s doing what’s best for you, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re going to stretch your wings.”

Ori nodded, looking to the side so his master wouldn’t see his reluctance.

Raynard tapped him on the cheek with the tip of his finger. He was smiling when Ori looked back to him. “I don’t expect you to like it, or even pretend to like it. But, swan or not, I expect any man who offers me his submission to do as he’s told.”

Ori managed another nod.

Raynard walked back to the bench. Standing alone near the water, Ori looked over his shoulder toward him.

“Try to land somewhere near this edge of the lake when you come back.”

Ori stared out over the water.

His master didn’t want a swan, and now he was going to watch his submissive morph into one before his eyes. Ori instinctively reached for the comfort of his collar.

It wasn’t there.

The sooner he got this whole stupid thing over with, the sooner he’d know if it really would be waiting for him when he got back.

He glanced at Raynard one more time. Nothing to hide behind, nothing to disguise what he was…

Ori looked down at the tattoo on the inside of his wrist, before quickly closing his eyes.

The mental door that he’d opened inside himself when he was on the stage before the elders was still there. It had been trying to push itself open more and more insistently over the last weeks, as pressure built up on the other side of it and leaked out as an ache that seeped into every muscle and joint.

Even as Ori mentally glanced in its direction, the door inside him sprang open. Sensations rushed into his body, faster than he could process them. Pain and pleasure mixed together so thoroughly it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended.

For one glorious moment, it felt like everything he was and everything he could be existed in the same universe. Almost too soon, he felt the side of himself that he was the most familiar with fade away. Reaching out, he tried to grasp at it with the farthest edges of his mind, but it raced away from him until it was difficult to see it over the mental horizon, hard to remember there was even anything that had gone.

Ori lifted his arms, but his shoulders didn’t move the way he expected them to. He tipped his head back, stretching out an unexpectedly long neck as he looked up toward the sky.

He took a step forward. His legs weren’t the same as he remembered. Everything was different. The world had changed.

The breeze blew against him, seeming to call to him. He stepped forward again, a little closer to the lake. Instinct took over. Arms stretched out as if they were wings, he ran forward. The edge of the water was right in front of him, then the air suddenly caught against his arms and the ground was falling away beneath his soles and he was climbing higher and higher into the atmosphere.

Even as his mind looked in wonder at the world below him, the landscape shrank a little more. The sky was wide above him, pulling him up with each movement of his arms. A flick of his fingertips was all it took to turn in large lazy circles high above the lake and the bench at the edge of it.

* * * * *

Leaning back against the rough wooden bench, Raynard craned his neck and stared up into the sky. Ori was little more than a white dot as he reached the far end of his circular path, but he never once strayed entirely out of Raynard’s sight.

Smiling up at the spectacle, even as he felt something inside himself crack and break at the sight, Raynard tracked Ori’s progress, around and around as his fledgling started to experiment with his new found freedom, dipping and swirling in the atmosphere above the park.

It was impossible to tell from the way he flew what kind of man he’d be when he came back to the ground. If there was no trace of submission in him when he landed then…

Raynard took a deep breath. If that was the case, then it wasn’t Ori who needed to change. If Ori needed him, and couldn’t have him as a master then, somehow, Raynard knew he’d have to learn how to be something other than a master to him. He’d have to find some form of submission inside himself, some way he could serve the needs of the swan.

The chances of a hawk doing that and keeping his own sanity intact were slim at best, Raynard knew that too. But, if there was no other way…

Another deep breath failed to bring Raynard any comfort as Ori continued to circle above him.

If nothing else, he’d been right to think Ori was strong. He stayed in the air a lot longer than most men could ever hope to manage on their first attempt. Over an hour had passed before he descended toward the lake.

Raynard watched, his heart racing faster and faster as he realised Ori was coming back to him, that it was now mere moments before everything would be settled once and for all.

The swan glided down toward the edge of the lake, all grace and fluid movements. Ori was barely a foot above the surface of the water when tension flooded back into his body. After that, the landing was…interesting.

A flurry of wings and webbed feet splashed and crashed into the edge of the lake. One moment there was a blur of feathers, the next, a beautiful naked man appeared in the shallow water closest to the bench.

Raynard perched on the edge of the seat, studying, watching, waiting for some sign. Shaking the water out of his hair, Ori immediately turned toward Raynard. Their eyes met. Raynard’s hand tightened around the collar, his breath caught in his throat, prayers rushed through his head, and all he could do was hope against hope.

Ori stumbled up onto his feet under Raynard’s watchful gaze—his arms and legs all going in different directions as he tried to control a body that wasn’t entirely sure what shape it was.

He splashed his way to the edge of the lake. Again and again he stumbled, but he kept pulling himself upright and pushing forward, making his way determinedly back to Raynard’s side.