“Yes, Sir.” Skye suspected that Luke would be checking up on him.
“I’ll make sure he takes a break,” Tor said, grinning. “I’ve got a bottle of water in the fridge for you too. You need to keep drinking while you’re working. If you feel thirsty, then it’s too late and you’ll be heading back toward dehydration again.”
“Good advice,” Luke said as he left the kitchen. “Make sure you follow it, Skye.”
“I will. I don’t want to get sick again.”
“None of us want that!” Rayne piped up. “This place isn’t the same without you around.” He caught Tor’s eye. “I know, I know…get my cute little butt to the garage. I’m going.”
“Less cute, more in need of another spanking,” Tor murmured on his way to the kitchen.
Skye smiled, glad that everything was back to normal.
* * * *
The guests’ breakfast meant another round of explanations and gratitude for their well wishes. Skye would have liked to hide in the kitchen, but everyone arrived at once and it was all he could do to keep up with the demand for Tor’s cooking. The entire tribe was heading to the dungeon for the day to follow through with some plot they had cooked up at dinner the night before. Fergus and Henry were joining them and had made sure the fridges down there had been well stocked with bottled water and juices.
Once he had cleared, Skye thought he’d be safe until he needed to set up for lunch, so he made his way to the snug where he found Goran pottering around behind the bar.
“Hey, Skye. Are you here on an enforced rest break?”
Skye nodded. “I won’t be in your way, will I?”
“Not at all. In fact, I’m almost done here so you can have some peace and quiet. I’m going to hit the gym to work off some of Tor’s calories. The guests are all in the dungeon, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they went down en masse while I was clearing the breakfast things.” Settling in a chair near the bookcases, Skye scooped the local newspaper off the table in front of him to have a browse. He wasn’t in the mood for anything heavy. Serving breakfast had worn him out more than he had expected.
The main news story was about a tractor shedding its load of turnips across a main road, causing traffic chaos. It didn’t get more exciting than that, but Skye found it soothing to read about the everyday goings-on in the villages dotted in and around the forest. He scanned the vacancies page, curious to see what kind of work opportunities there were. Most ads seemed to be for retail positions or for a range of roles in hotels and guesthouses. One listing caught his eye, though.
Researcher/historian required for ongoing projects. Can be home-based. Some local travel required. Email for further information.
Then it gave an email address. Skye nibbled on his lower lip, wondering what the projects might be about, the description was so vague. It wouldn’t hurt to send an email, but he would ask Luke about it first. He had a job, after all, and had no intention of letting anyone down so soon after starting at The Retreat.
The room was warm and a shaft of sunlight fell across Skye’s body. Goran had departed without him noticing and now his eyelids drooped. He let them close thinking that it would do no harm to doze for a while. It was quiet in the snug, far enough away from other parts of the house that sound didn’t travel. He drifted into a state where he wasn’t asleep but not quite awake either. He could picture Tor, Benjy and Frank working away in the kitchen, Goran roaming the wine cellar, Fergus and Henry getting up to Lord knew what in the dungeon with their guests, Rayne tinkering in the garage and Luke working in his office. In Skye’s imagination, Luke’s hair was tousled, his dark-rimmed spectacles balanced on his nose. He had no shirt on and wore tight leather trousers rather than his usual smart slacks. Skye chuckled. Luke in leather would be a dream come true. It might not be realistic but they were his dreams and he was entitled to populate them in any way he fancied. He shifted as his cage applied uncomfortable pressure to his cock, which had responded to his fantasies in an entirely predictable way. He unzipped his fly, slipping his hand into his underwear to fondle the metal imprisoning his dick. It had significant weight but wasn’t uncomfortable. Its presence alone was enough to color his daydreams.
Gradually, he became aware of someone else in the room. A slight shift in the air, a rustle of fabric then the creak of antique furniture followed by the drift of a vanilla scent beneath his nostrils. Reluctant to let go of the pictures in his head, Skye was in no rush to open his eyes, but the pull of curiosity was too strong.
Once his sleep-blurred vision came into focus, he discovered Luke sitting in the chair next to him. “Oh! Sir… I’m sorry. I was just resting my eyes.”
“From the smile on your face, I’d love to know what it was you were dreaming about… And what you think you’re doing with that hand?”
Skye gasped, yanking his hand from his trousers before zipping his fly with embarrassing haste. “I wasn’t asleep, Sir, just daydreaming… About you.” Skye couldn’t bring himself to meet Luke’s gaze after such an admission. Luke placed a finger beneath his chin and tilted his head up.
“I’m glad to be so inspiring.”
Flustered, Skye moved to his knees. “Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?” He fixed his eyes on the bulge in Luke’s trousers.
Luke stroked his hair. “Only if you want to.”
Skye couldn’t imagine anything he wanted more. He nuzzled Luke’s thigh before reaching for his zipper with trembling fingers. Nervous as he was, it was still just the work of a moment to free Luke’s cock, which proved to have a slight curve. Skye ran his fingers from root to tip in reverence, memorizing every ridge and vein. Luke shifted, parting his legs wider to give Skye better access. Skye in turn shuffled on his knees to get closer.
“Hands behind your back,” Luke growled. “I really need to get into the habit of carrying handcuffs with me.”
Skye clasped his hands behind his back, lacing his fingers together in tight formation so he didn’t forget Luke’s order in the heat of the moment. He peeked at Luke from beneath his lashes, seeking permission to continue. Luke’s brief nod was all he needed.
First, Skye circled the plump head of Luke’s cock with his tongue, letting the flavor settle on his taste buds. He breathed deeply, taking in Luke’s unique scent—not wanting to deny any of his senses. Above him, Luke grumbled. He twined his fingers in Skye’s hair, tugging him closer. Skye let Luke guide him, taking his shaft into his mouth, enjoying the solid weight on his tongue. Luke didn’t force him or try to make him take more than he was ready for.
Relaxing, Skye steadied his breathing and ducked his head. He gagged a little, recovered, then tried again, taking Luke as deep as he could. He sucked hard, relishing the sensation of his lips pressing into Luke’s soft skin to find the hardness beneath. He lapped at the head before dipping forward again. This time, Luke held him in place for a few seconds before allowing him to move. Skye, trusting that Luke would never push him too hard too soon, focused on applying pressure with his lips. Luke’s cock still hadn’t reached his throat.
Next time. Skye put all his concentration into giving Luke pleasure. He sucked and licked until his jaw ached and when Luke pushed deep into his throat, he swallowed. It was such a strange sensation, but he had no time to think about it because Luke’s muscles tensed. His grip on Skye’s hair tightened. Seconds later he came, his seed coating Skye’s tongue in salt-sweet heat.
Skye stayed where he was, waiting for Luke to loosen his hold. He lapped at his shaft and listened as Luke sighed with satisfaction. Skye knew how he felt, his own rush of pleasure when Luke came was as great as if he had orgasmed himself. His whole body warmed with the knowledge that he had brought his Dominant to release. The ache as his dick attempted to swell in the chastity device nudged at the edges of his awareness, but it didn’t detract from his attention, which was entirely on Luke. A slight tug on his hair told Skye he could move. He knelt back on his heels and raised his eyes to meet Luke’s, anxious
to see some sign that he had pleased him.
Luke’s face was flushed, his eyes bright and he smiled. He tucked his dick away and tidied his clothes before patting his lap. “I’d guess we have some time before any of the guests appear for the pre-dinner drinks.”
Skye scrambled into his lap, relaxing into Luke’s hold. He was glad Luke had nothing against cuddling. He had heard that some Dominants didn’t allow it and he couldn’t imagine being in a relationship with somebody like that. He craved close contact with Luke like an addiction.
“That was wonderful, Skye, thank you. Please believe that it was not my intention to seduce you, but when I saw you dozing in the armchair… So sweet and peaceful…”
“It was my pleasure, Sir.”
“Still, I promise to be more controlled in future. Anyone could have walked in on us.”
Skye let the idea of people watching them play out in his head. To his surprise, it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would.
“Do I have a trainee exhibitionist on my hands?” Luke asked, apparently interpreting his expression and coming to an accurate conclusion.
“I don’t think so, Sir. It’s just that there wasn’t room in my head for anyone but you so, if people had been watching, I don’t think I’d even have noticed.”
Chuckling, Luke stroked his hair. “Something for us to discuss if the occasion ever arises, though I think it’s safe to say that I’d much rather keep you to myself.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the ticking of the mantel clock and the distant rustle of wind in the trees. Skye had no desire to move but when the clock struck eleven, he knew he had to get back to work.
“Sir…”
“Yes, I know. Time to get back to the real world. Once you’re done with lunch service today, you’ll join me in my office for the afternoon.”
On the surface, the invitation was innocuous but there was something in Luke’s tone that promised… Skye shook his head. His imagination was running away with him. “Yes, Sir.” He got to his feet, but Luke pulled him back for a kiss. When he let Skye go, Skye had to clutch the arm of the chair for balance.
“Now you may go.”
Skye drifted toward the kitchen in a daze and it was only when he banged the door frame with his hip that he gave himself a shake. He needed to get his head back where it was needed, on crockery and glassware, rather than the firm press of Luke’s lips.
* * * *
Luke tapped his pen against his notepad, his mind on far more enjoyable things than future bookings. He’d not planned for the way things had turned out in the snug before lunch, but the trip to check on Skye’s wellbeing had turned into a memorable treat. He had spent a good half an hour afterward debating his behavior, wondering if he had taken advantage of the situation. It had been impossible to resist the pleading in Skye’s violet eyes and his earnest focus on giving Luke the best blow job he’d ever had, melted Luke’s heart. Skye had no thought for his own pleasure and hadn’t even hinted with so much as a look that Luke should reciprocate in any way. He’d relaxed into Luke’s arms as if all his ambitions for the day had been achieved. Luke could have stayed there, Skye’s slender body pressed to his, for the rest of the day and been quite contented. Sometimes the demands of the real world were a pain in his arse.
Lunch had been a quick sandwich and an apple, eaten at his desk. He had checked in to the banqueting hall, had a quick chat with Roy and Saul, then left as most of the others were taking short breaks from the dungeon to grab a bite. There was no regular schedule and Skye was busy serving those who did appear so Luke hadn’t wanted to distract him. There would be time enough to enjoy his submissive later in the day. He was keen to discuss what Skye had been dreaming about, because his expression had been intriguing to say the least. Knowing that the daydream had been about him sparked his curiosity even more.
He checked his watch for the fifth time, wondering how long it would be before Skye was able to join him, then laughed at his own behavior. Skye had him tangled in knots only a few hours after signing their contract. He got back to reviewing forthcoming bookings, knowing that he would have to write out to those on the waiting list soon—no cancellations had arisen and The Retreat was booked solid for the next eighteen months. He had plans to offer a service in future for men who were willing to share their booking when they weren’t using all the bedrooms. It would reduce the considerable cost and perhaps alleviate the disappointment that came with the long waiting times. There would have to be a careful matching process to ensure people were compatible, but Luke was sure he could make it work. He needed to discuss the plan with Carey but didn’t doubt that he would gain his support.
His remaining concentration was shredded by a pounding on his office door, which opened before he could say anything. Henry appeared, bare-chested and white-faced.
“Mr. Redding, can you come, sir? It’s Fergus…he’s hurt.”
Luke was already on his feet. He didn’t bother asking for more information, choosing instead to go and see for himself. Henry was excitable but wasn’t one to exaggerate. If he said Fergus was hurt, there was no doubt it was true. There was a sizeable first aid kit in the dungeon so Luke went straight there. He found Fergus, even paler than Henry, resting against the spanking bench. He was trembling, head down. Saul had an arm around his shoulders and a few of the other guests were gathered around.
“Luke, I’m glad you’re here. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this has happened.” Roy ran up with the first aid box, placing it on the bench.
“What has happened?” Luke asked. When Fergus looked up, it was easy to work it out for himself. A nasty cut ran the length of Fergus’s cheek, ending millimeters from his eye. Blood streaked his face.
“It was an accident, Mr. Redding.” Fergus’s voice shook.
Luke decided that dealing with the injury was more important than determining the exact course of events at that moment. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves from the medical kit before unwrapping a sterile dressing. He pressed it to Fergus’s cheek.
“Hold it in place, Fergus. Press as hard as you can stand. It’ll slow the bleeding.” He turned to Henry, who had followed him down the stairs. “Fetch Tor, then ask Rayne to get the car ready. We need to get Fergus checked out at the hospital. Ask Skye to fetch some respectable clothes and a warm coat from Fergus’s room—leather shorts will cause quite a commotion in casualty.” Henry dashed away. “Fergus, turn around so I can see your back.”
Fergus did as Luke ordered. His back was striped with red lines, but the skin wasn’t broken. “This will be fine with some salve applied. Do you have any other injuries?”
“No, Sir. I wanted this—hurt so good, you know? It was an accident.”
“I have no doubt it was.” Luke found some antiseptic spray. “This will sting a bit. Lift the dressing for me.” He sprayed the wound, which looked clean beneath the oozing blood. “Okay, it may not need stitches, but it’s best to be sure.” Roy handed him a towel from the dungeon’s stock and Luke put it around Fergus’s shoulders. “Let’s get you upstairs.” As he spoke, Tor arrived. Luke gave him a short explanation. “Tor will take you to wait for Rayne and help you get dressed. I’ll be there in a minute or two.”
Tor took everything in then left, supporting Fergus as best he could. A large bearded man stepped forward.
“I was the one doing the demonstration,” he said. “I can only apologize. My foot slipped as I stepped into the stroke and the whip curled around his cheek. He could have lost his eye. If there’s anything I can do…” His sub clung to his side, sobbing.
“It’s Aston, isn’t it?” Luke asked, getting a brief nod in return. “Accidents happen. Fergus knows the risks of his job and this wasn’t deliberate. I won’t tell you not to feel bad because you obviously do, but let it go. Enjoy the rest of your day. Look after Sean.” Aston ruffled his sub’s hair. “I’ll write up a report of the incident, which you can look over. This isn’t the f
irst mishap we’ve had down here, and it won’t be the last.” He tried to project reassurance. “Saul, if there’s anything you need while I’m gone, please ask Goran. I’ll let him know what’s going on.”
“I will. And let young Fergus know that we’re all thinking about him.”
After stripping off his gloves and grabbing two spare dressings from the first aid kit, Luke made his way back upstairs. He found Tor and Goran in the front hall where Skye was helping Fergus into a t-shirt and jumper, keeping the fabric away from his face.
“Rayne is bringing the car around,” Goran said. “You’re going with Fergus?”
Luke nodded. “Yes. You and Goran are needed here. I’m not sure how long it will take, so, Tor,– you get on with preparations for tonight’s dinner. Goran, look after the guests. Aston in particular is shaken up and his sub is a mess—though it’s clear this was an unfortunate accident.”
“I’ll break out the brandy. Hot toddies all round will do the trick.” Goran strolled toward the snug.
“Skye, you do whatever Goran and Tor need. Go to all the guests’ rooms when they’re finished in the dungeon and make sure they have everything they need and keep an eye on Henry for me.”
“Yes, Sir.” Skye seemed calm. “Fergus will be fine, won’t he, Sir?”
“I’m sure he will. Now, tonight’s theme is A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Let’s make it a magical experience for everyone.”
“Rayne’s here.” Tor held the door open while Luke escorted Fergus to the car. As he climbed in, Luke wondered if Skye was experiencing the same separation anxiety he was.
* * * *
Five hours, three cups of terrible coffee, two stitches and a dressing later, Luke got back to The Retreat. The entrance hall was empty, but faint sounds of laughter and music came from the direction of the banqueting hall. Rayne and Fergus came in behind him, chattering away.
Trusting Him Page 13