Pride (The Copper Horse book 2) (gay erotic romance pony play BDSM)

by K. A. Merikan

  Erik shrugged and reached through the mesh headboard to return with two leather straps that he used to secure Reuben’s hands to the bed frame. They were long enough to allow some movement but wouldn’t let Reuben use the hard hooves as an effective weapon.

  “The Humanists won’t settle for London alone, darling. They intend to take over all of Britain.”

  “I heard that they want a war on the undead. That they’d pull men into an army?” Reuben heard gossip from the servants, but Erik would probably know better.

  Erik burst out laughing. “And wouldn’t you make a fine war horse?” Now that Reuben had no way to harm him, Erik leaned in to a tight hug, snaking his arms around his pet’s waist.

  Reuben tried to push down the comforter with his good leg, to invite Erik underneath. “No, Master. I don’t want to fight zombies. They scare me.”

  Erik snorted but only pulled the covers down low enough to expose Reuben’s crotch. The cool air instantly made goose bumps spread all over Reuben’s skin, even more so when Erik leaned close and cupped his private parts with his warm hand. “Of course they do, darling. I will not allow anyone to waste you in the battlefield.”

  “So the Humanists a threat to your family, Master?” Reuben knew Erik was competent at his job, but still worried about what could happen if the world around them collapsed.

  Erik nodded, squeezing Reuben’s still-soft cock. “They are, and that is why we need to get rid of them.”

  Reuben sighed and looked down to his hand. “What about this doctor? I heard he’s found a cure for the Plague. Do you think it’s possible, Master?”

  Erik cocked his head, squinting. The tugging on Reuben’s prick became even more intense, waking it to life “Ferris Deverell?”

  Reuben tried to focus on the conversation and pushed at Erik’s arm with his hoof. “That could be his name.”

  Erik groaned and lapped at Reuben’s mouth. His tongue was so hot and silky Reuben’s mind immediately pictured it on his cock. “You only know him because he’s Percy Preston’s new role, don’t you?”

  “N-no!” Reuben avoided Erik’s gaze, ashamed. “I did hear about the role, but apparently Gregorovich talked about it at some gathering in London.”

  Erik stared at him with those strangely intense eyes, never breaking eye contact even when Reuben’s cock twitched in his grasp. “I think it’s just bait for the masses.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to be in a war, Master.” Reuben took a deep breath, hypnotized by Erik’s eyes. That was all it took for him to become unbearably excited, but he didn’t even have to plead for Erik to suck him. His master ducked toward Reuben’s crotch without a word and enveloped him in velvet heat.

  It was the best medicine Reuben could imagine, a good long blowjob, caresses on his stomach and thighs until he came. Erik even sucked on his balls with lots of loud, delightful sounds. Reuben felt adored and cared for. When Erik was done with him, they laid in the covers, all sweaty and breathless. And Reuben didn’t even have to return the favor, since Erik insisted he shouldn’t overexert himself. His master tossed off on Reuben’s stomach and collapsed against his side with a dreamy smile stretching his scarred lips. The marks didn’t make him look any less handsome, though.

  “That was... thank you,” Reuben whispered, sorry that he couldn’t properly hug him.

  Erik yawned. “My pleasure, Copper.” He brushed his lips against one of the hooves again before pressing a kiss to Reuben’s mouth. Now that they’d both climaxed, the atmosphere became lazy and sweet.

  Reuben smiled into the caress and nudged Erik’s shoulder blade with his hoof. Erik chuckled, withdrawing just enough to bump his forehead against Reuben’s.

  “I love it when you get all horsey.”

  “You’re such a pervert,” Reuben said and nudged him with his nose.

  Erik wiggled his eyebrows with a smug smile. “It takes a pervert to be this good at blowing cock.” He leaned closer, as if he were aiming for another kiss, but there was a loud knock on the door, and he slouched over Reuben’s chest. “Oh, fuck me.”

  Reuben smirked but didn’t say a thing when they heard the butler’s voice from behind the door. “May I enter, sir?”

  Erik rolled his eyes at Reuben and leaned against the headboard next to him. “You may if you must.”

  Mister Evans entered and didn’t even blink at the position he found his master in. “Sir, a mister Oliver Sheppard is here to see you. He has an appointment, and since this is the temporary office...”

  “Do bring him in.” Erick tucked his cock back into his pants, released Reuben’s hands, and crawled off the bed only to end up in a chair behind his desk. “Are you hungry?” He looked at the bed.

  “Yes, Master,” Reuben said and pulled the comforter over himself with his hooves. It was less efficient than it could have been, but Reuben did it for Erik’s entertainment.

  The butler came back, followed by a roundish man with a bush of fluffy white hair, who looked distressed at best, his cheeks red and eyes puffy. Mister Evans introduced him and moved back to the door, as Hans approached the guest and did a quick check for weapons. Mister Sheppard kept his eyes on Erik, all fidgety. Erik scrutinized him with a bored expression, but eventually gestured for him to come closer.

  “Speak.”

  The man took a deep breath. “Sir, I have come to speak about my son, Victor.” He had to take another gasp of air before he could go on. “I don’t know in what kind of trouble he’s gotten himself into, but I will do anything to help him out. It’s been four days since he’s gone missing.”

  Reuben watched Sheppard from under the covers in silence. His father would never risk coming to see someone as dangerous as Erik in order to find him. Suddenly, he felt very jealous of this Victor, wherever he was.

  Erik leaned back in his chair and opened the drawer, fishing out a small pot of honey. “Why do you think I’m the person to help you?”

  Sheppard licked his lips. “I... sir, I heard he had some sort of misunderstanding with your brother, Frey Dal.”

  Erik leaned over the desk, his eyes narrowing with interest. “Your son’s the singer who wanted to taste my brother’s cock?”

  Mister Sheppard dried his forehead with a handkerchief. His face had been red before, but now it went purple. “That... could have been the case. I thought that maybe—with all due respect—considering your own inclination, sir... you could help?” The man’s hands were shaking so badly Reuben wanted to pat him on the back.

  “Well, excuse me, Mister Sheppard.” Erik popped the honeypot open and dove in with a small spoon. “I wouldn’t get on my knees for a man I don’t know.” His tone was borderline offended.

  “Sir, he’s young. Doesn’t know any better. I don’t know what he was thinking. There must be some kind of reasonable explanation for this misunderstanding.”

  Erik gestured for Sheppard to come closer. “Do you have a photograph of him?”

  “Yes, sir. Here.” Sheppard walked up to the desk, fishing out a piece of paper from his jacket. He showed it to Erik and wiped his forehead again. “Victor Sheppard,” he added, as if he hadn’t already said that before.

  Erik’s brows shot up. “That is a pretty boy. Would be a shame if he died.”

  Sheppard’s lips trembled. “Mister Dal, please. He is my only son.”

  Reuben swallowed, feeling out of place as witness to such a heart wrenching scene. Erik turned to look at him and showed him the picture of a pretty young man with dark, curly hair. “What do you think, Copper? How hard should I be on Frey for sending such an angelic face off to a farm?”

  Reuben looked up at him, unsure of what kind of ‘farm’ Erik meant. The moment Sheppard’s gaze darted to him, he became anxious, as if the decision suddenly fell on his shoulders. “Maybe there is a way he could apologize, Master.”

  Erik gazed at Sheppard again and sucked on the spoon of honey, placing the photograph on his desk. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not my brother’s keepe
r. He was very upset about this.”

  Reuben couldn’t even comprehend how someone could offer to blow Frey. Victor must have had a death wish.

  “Thank you, sir. I would be forever in your debt.” Sheppard was on the brink of tears, and it was painful to watch.

  Erik let out a sigh, tracing the photograph with his finger. “Don’t get your hopes too high, Mister Sheppard. Frey isn’t the most forgiving man in Bylondon.”

  Sheppard swallowed and looked at his own shoes. “I trust you will do everything in your power.”

  “Of course. I will notify you if something comes up. Good, or bad.” Erik straightened in his chair and ate another spoonful of honey.

  Sheppard nodded, they exchanged a few more words, and Mister Evans escorted the guest out. Reuben turned on his side and couldn’t stop thinking of how much love this man must have for his son to grovel with no shame for his sake. And he did all that knowing his son was a sodomite.

  Erik’s voice was a cold shower. “Pity on the boy.”

  “You know where he is?” Reuben cowered under his comforter.

  “I will.” Erik opened the top drawer of his desk, taking out a binder. He opened it and scanned several pages before tapping on the paper. “There he is. Victor Sheppard.”

  Reuben swallowed and leaned closer to see. “What does it mean?”

  Erik gave him a blank expression. “He’s lost. Someone like him won’t last a month where he is now.”

  Reuben squinted to decipher the text his master just looked through. There was a thick pile of documents in the binder, some of them with photographs, some plain text, but it was too small for him to read. The only exception was the top of the list in which Erik found Victor’s name. The thick letters read ‘Honeyhill Farm’.

  “Why? Where is he?” Reuben wasn’t sure if he should be asking about this, but Erik didn’t shush him. He placed the binder on the side, right under Reuben’s nose and sighed, staring into space. Reuben bit his lip, spotting the name of his former friend, Jacob, on the same list. If Erik sent him there, ‘Honeyhill’ couldn’t be a good place.

  “He’s working, but a pretty boy like that won’t last long.” Erik shrugged. “Damn shame—he’d make a fine horse.” A cocky smile was the only thing keeping Reuben from believing Erik was being serious.

  “I thought you liked your stallions big.” Reuben pouted but couldn’t stop glancing back at the photo of the young man. He was even prettier than Erik.

  “I could make an exception for a beautiful gelding. What do you think?” Erik beamed at him, undisturbed by Mister Sheppard’s visit. “I could make you fuck him.”

  Reuben didn’t like that at all. “I think it’s a dumb idea.”

  Erik burst out laughing and rushed to join him in bed. “What about him sucking your juicy prick? Would you like that? You heard yourself he likes cock.”

  “He might not like mine,” Reuben muttered. He wouldn’t want someone forced to do that. “Did he really offer himself to your brother?”

  “Indeed.” Erik spooned Reuben’s side, playing with his mane. “You should have seen how outraged he was.”

  Reuben smirked. He could imagine. “And... there’s nothing you can do, Master, or do you not want to?”

  Erik slid his hand down his pet’s chest. “I think that’s not how one should repay for a generous offer. My brother’s mad.” He shrugged.

  “His father was so desperate...” Maybe if Reuben nudged Erik about it, his master would find a way?

  Erik rolled his eyes. “Wish my mother was like that. Haven’t seen her in months.”

  “I... um... I don’t miss my father,” Reuben confessed quietly, but before Erik could react, the door opened with a slam, and no one other than Frey Dal walked in as if this were his house. The scowl on his face deepened the moment he laid eyes on the bed.

  “The fuck is this, Erik?”

  The butler followed him in, clearly unsure about the etiquette he should use, but Erik solved that problem for him, gesturing for him to leave. “Isn’t it obvious? My stallion had an accident.”

  “What? No, I don’t want to know.” Frey came closer and sat on Erik’s desk. “I’ve got a job for you.”

  “What a lucky coincidence,” Erik exclaimed, hugging Reuben’s body tight. “I have one for you as well!”

  Frey narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “What?” he barked.

  “Your precious cocksucking boy. I want him back in Bylondon.” Erik cupped Reuben’s nape, soothingly squeezing his skin.

  “I don’t have a ‘cocksucking boy’,” snarled Frey. “Don’t you get enough filth from that thing over there?” He pointed at Reuben, who tried not to smirk. He felt safe with Erik, and the fact that his master was actually trying to get the boy back made his heart flutter. Deep down Erik was a good person.

  “Come on, Frey, don’t be so hard on him.” Erik shrugged and gave his brother a brilliant smile. “All he did was pick the wrong Dal—a youngster’s mistake.”

  Frey didn’t even try to hide his disgust. “Yeah, your blue fingers would be all over him.”

  “Come on, brother. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” Erik reached out and slid his fingers down Frey’s thigh in a gesture so obscene Reuben felt his face heat up.

  Frey jumped off the desk and took a step back, almost falling over. “The fuck’s wrong with you?” he yelled in what looked like genuine panic.

  Erik beamed, undisturbed by the display. “Say ‘yes’.”

  “Listen. I’ve got an important task for you.” Frey took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “You do it well, and I’ll get the little cocksucker back.”

  “All right, but I want that in writing.” Erik slid out of bed and walked behind his desk again, only to retrieve a blank sheet of paper.

  Reuben could see Frey boiling, and he hid a smile behind a pillow.

  “Yeah. Listen, we need to get rid of Gregorovich.”

  “In writing, Frey.” Erik shoved the page towards him and put a pen on the table. “We cocksuckers need to help one another. I’m sure your wives would agree with me.”

  “Don’t you dare cross that line,” Frey grumbled, but he snatched the pen and scribbled. It was slow, and the writing looked sloppy even from the bed, nothing like Erik’s work. “There’s a lot of tension around the Humanists. They’re as strong as ever under Gregorovich, and they need to be stopped. I thought we could work something out, but he is one dangerous fucker.”

  Erik relaxed. Reuben had been certain he’d been completely at ease, but now he knew that wasn’t the case.

  “What do you have in mind, brother?” His intelligent eyes darted up to lock with Frey’s.

  “Mother wants him gone. It’s all arranged. His suspicious behavior was reported in the papers quite a few times, and he’s been arrested more than once before. Make more evidence that he’s mad. There’s a new procedure they’ll do on him in Bedlam. Lobotomy, he’ll be as dumb as a zombie after that, apparently, and our hands will be clean. No one will say he was assassinated, and he won’t become a martyr either. No one likes a madman.” Frey kept writing, and it was obvious Reuben’s presence was like air to him. He didn’t care what a horse would hear.

  Erik shrugged, darting a look at Reuben, but only to give him a calming smile. “I’ll see it done.”

  “Check the newspapers from the last few months to make it all believable. Sometimes he’s completely disappeared for days. Those could have been the moments his mental state worsened.” Frey finally signed the piece of paper. Erik snatched it from the table and took a brief moment to read through it before nodding.

  “I have all the London papers stocked, so it won’t be a problem.” He picked up his honey again. “How quick do you want him removed from the scene?”

  “Next week at the latest. Let me know when you have all the paperwork done, so I can get it to our contact in Bedlam.”

  “Is that all?” Erik licked some honey from the
spoon, the golden syrup pooling on his tongue. “My stallion feels neglected.”

  “Well, I’m not gonna fuck him, so yeah, that’s all. Contact me if you need anything for this job. It has to be beyond suspicion.” Frey didn’t even look at Reuben.

  Erik blinked, gritting his teeth. “My work is always perfect.”

  It wasn’t the first time he’d said that in Reuben’s presence, but then again Erik did take pride in his craftsmanship.

  Frey gave Erik an unpleasant smile. “Less thinking about cocks and asses, more about ink and wax, little brother.”

  “Says the man with five cunts to distract him.”

  Frey tapped his fingers on the desk, and to Reuben’s astonishment, for once Frey didn’t lose his temper after Erik insulted his wives. “One of them’s pregnant. They don’t wanna tell me which one,” he grumbled.

  Erik blinked, losing his composure. “Oh... did they say why?”

  “Yeah, they want me to guess. Women.” Frey looked at Erik as if he knew anything about women and might understand. Reuben certainly didn’t, and just cocked his head.

  Erik shook his head slowly, poking his own lips with the spoon. “Can’t you... feel something’s different inside?” His eyelid twitched.

  Frey frowned and scratched his nape. “Not yet. But yeah, let’s hope it’s a boy. They wanna make a bet with me. I have a week to guess which one’s pregnant.”

  Erik leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desktop. “What’s the prize?”

  “If I guess wrong, they all get jewelry.” Frey sighed and shook his head. “If I guess right, I get to name the baby.”

  Reuben was baffled. A man like Frey had to fight for the privilege of naming his own child? Why wouldn’t he do whatever he wanted?

  Judging from the frown marring his master’s forehead, they shared that sentiment. “You don’t get to name your own son?”

  Frey grumbled. “Never mind. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “When my neighbor was pregnant, she kept throwing up in the morning,” Reuben said, but his courage disappeared when Frey’s gaze turned to him.