Inherent Cost

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Inherent Cost Page 3

by Alicia Cameron


  “Feeling better?” he asked, even though he knew Wren was.

  “Much,” Wren agreed, sitting up to kiss him. “Thank you.”

  Jere shook his head. “I should never have left you like that. This was supposed to be a nice day out, something fun. Instead... I don’t want to think of what they might have done to you there.”

  Wren gave him a curious look. “I’m sorry, did you arrange for the speed train to derail? Or pull the roof of it onto your face? It was an accident, Jere. It’s a risk we take every time we go out. I’m aware of it, even if you seem surprised. That’s just how it is.”

  Jere shook his head. “It shouldn’t be. I want you to be safe, even if I’m not there to protect you. There has to be something I can do.”

  Wren smiled, pulling Jere’s arms around him. “I’m with you. I’d really like to never end up in a place like that again. But you came. That’s all that matters.”

  It was halfway through the next day by the time another speed train arrived and brought them home. Jere was still exhausted; he had slept some, but any recovery he made was immediately funneled into healing Wren. He couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt, just like he couldn’t stop planning ways to keep him safe in the future.

  Growing up in a free state, where there were barely even any mentions of slaves, Jere had only been minimally aware that slaves were even a possibility in the modern world. In his mind, such things were relegated to the most backwards, barbaric places in the world, surely no place that he would ever visit. He had never expected to own one of his own.

  Or two of his own, as it was.

  They arrived home to find the house quiet and seemingly empty. Jere looked around for a moment, wondering where his other slave was.

  Isis came out after a few minutes, the not-so-secretly relieved smile on her face showing as she realized she hadn’t been abandoned. Her paranoia had faded considerably over the year since Jere bought her, signing over a small sum of money for the girl who was about to be sent to die at a workhouse. She had been beaten, starved, and was nearly insane back then. Over the past year, she had healed both physically and mentally, slowly opening up and starting to trust first Jere, then Wren. She took pride in her appearance now, arranging her long, dark curls in different styles, and selecting clothes that brought out her green eyes and olive skin tone, what little bit of skin she allowed to show, anyway. She had made remarkable progress.

  “The mind connection went dead,” she said, shaken. “And then, you guys didn’t come home... is that blood?”

  Jere just nodded. “Yes. Our train derailed. Are you okay?”

  Isis nodded. “I hid,” she admitted. “I’m glad you’re back. Are you both all right?”

  Jere shrugged. “I got good treatment.”

  “I got to spend a few hours in a vet clinic for the first time,” Wren informed her, his tone conveying his disapproval. “But Jere came and got me.”

  Isis shuddered. “Sorry. I’ve been there. Those places are awful.”

  “So I noticed,” Wren agreed. “They had staff at the training facility, and once my last master bought me, when he bothered to heal me at all, he healed me himself. I think I’d rather be left to die than have a vet treat me again.”

  Isis nodded.

  “It won’t happen again,” Jere promised, his tone fierce. He just wished he knew how to keep that promise.

  “Jere, you got some messages at the clinic while you were out. A lot of people wondered where you were. And some creepy guy in a suit came in looking for you. He wasn’t sick or anything, and he kept trying to ask me questions, but all he’d say was that he wanted to talk to you.”

  Jere raised an eyebrow. He had left Isis there to clean and organize while they were out; he hadn’t expected her to go above and beyond. “You actually talked to people?”

  She shrugged. “You forgot to lock the door. I made sure not to be rude when I answered, even that one guy. I told him that you didn’t want me talking to people, and that I had work to do in the back. Behind a locked door.”

  Jere grinned, imagining how that must have gone. She could be abrasive at times. “Did you write down what they wanted?”

  Isis rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because I’d forget so quickly.”

  Isis had a memory gift that went beyond photographic. She remembered everything she had ever seen or heard from the time that the first signs of her gift started to show. It had resulted in her being taken as a slave when she was a mere seven years old instead of the traditional age of thirteen. Isis had been valuable as a spy, too young to even read the letters she memorized for her masters. As she grew older, her behavior became uncontrollable, and so did the harsh treatment she received. For years, she’d experienced nothing but torture and abuse. She had only been fifteen when Jere had bought her, but she had seen far more of the world and its cruelties than either of the men who had adopted her. As she slowly became acclimated to her new home, she was learning how to use her gift far more effectively to help manage things in the clinic, where she doubled as a note-taker and assistant.

  “You want me to write it down so you don’t forget?” she asked Jere, teasing him.

  “Yes, please,” he admitted. He knew his memory was nowhere near as good as hers.

  “All right,” she agreed. “You can get details or anything when we do the energy thing.”

  Jere nodded. Siphoning psychic energy, or the “energy thing,” as Isis called it, was an uncomfortable but useful process; connecting to someone else’s psychic energy source was intimate, and thoughts and emotions and memories got all tangled up in the psychic web. Jere’s medical ethics made him recoil from the very idea, but when he had agreed to treat the slave population in Hojer, he had found himself with few other alternatives.

  “Speaking of energy, you should get some rest,” Wren hinted. “You’re back to work tomorrow and I’m sure it will be busy.”

  Jere shrugged. “I’m all right,” he protested, knowing he was as exhausted as Wren said.

  Wren leaned over and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “You’re half-dead. You’re covered in blood. You’re slower than I am. Go get in the shower, and then I’ll come and make sure you’re clean.”

  “Gross,” Isis commented, heading toward her bedroom. At sixteen, she was well aware of what couples did in bed at night, and as a slave she had experienced far too much of the sort against her will in the past. Now she was happily enjoying a second childhood, and had no interest in anything sexual.

  “You’re just jealous of all the fun we have,” Wren teased.

  “Ew!”

  Isis made a face at them as she left. As patient and compassionate as Jere was with Isis, she and Wren had developed a far different relationship. He teased her and didn’t tolerate any of her bullshit tantrums. Isis went along with it and appreciated his no-nonsense manner. Wren had even compared her, rather begrudgingly, to his own little brother, the one he hadn’t seen in years. Isis hadn’t stopped smiling for days after that comment.

  Jere laughed and headed to the shower as Wren had ordered. He was relieved to know that the man he loved and the girl they had both grown to care for so deeply were safe. His little family depended on him.

  Chapter 3

  Working Order

  Wren took a few moments to tidy up, not because anything was actually dirty, but because it was one of the few things that he could do to calm himself without seeming too obvious. For Jere, the incident today must have seemed isolated, a problem that he could solve quickly by being strong and threatening, tearing into the vet like she would simply dissolve into thin air once he left.

  It had been nice to watch, in a way. Jere was sexy when he got that protective, and a part of Wren rejoiced that his lover would take so many risks for him.

  But as much as Jere was being valiant, Wren knew that an overprotective master could come off as entitled, too involved with something that was considered property. Challenging the way that society in a slave state wo
rked could bring criticism and judgment; worse, it could draw attention to their unconventional lifestyle. These risks weighed on Wren’s mind as he polished the counters, trying to push away the feelings that his master had crossed a line.

  Even with the time Wren took to calm down, Jere still had yet to get into the shower by the time Wren joined him. Jere was standing in the bathroom that connected to the master bedroom, examining the freshly healed skin on his forehead. The healer hadn’t left a scar, but the skin was new and pink. Wren came up behind him, catching his eye in the mirror, and turning him around forcefully. He drew Jere into a deep kiss that left them both breathless. He clutched at Jere’s back, half-tempted to rip his shirt off of him, but deciding that he should show at least a little bit of restraint.

  Besides, having a speed gift made undressing his lover all that much faster and easier.

  Within seconds, Jere was wearing nothing but a smile as he stood in front of Wren.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” Jere said.

  Wren smiled. Even after all this time, it was strange that someone cared so much about him. “Go shower. When you’re finished, I can make sure that everything is in working order.”

  Blushing, Jere complied. While he did, Wren rearranged the closets, trying to distract himself. Everything seemed fine when Jere was with him, but when he was alone, he couldn’t help but think of the accident, the awful vet clinic. Jere was pissing off a lot of people lately, and Wren had to wonder when it would all fly back and hit them in the face. Worse, when Wren was alone, he couldn’t ward off the anxiety that he had felt since he had struggled and nearly failed to hide his firesetting gift. Maybe they were both getting too comfortable.

  In just a few moments, he heard the water turning off. Jere stepped out of the bathroom, still damp, and made his way over to Wren. “Ready to test me out?”

  “Perfect timing,” Wren agreed, motioning for him to come closer.

  Jere stepped forward, pressing his naked body against Wren’s clothed one. He rubbed up against Wren and leaned in to kiss him again.

  Wren smiled, snaking his hand down to grab at Jere’s cock, stroking it as he whispered into his ear. He felt his temperature rising along with his cock. Just thinking about what he wanted to do with Jere turned him on. Knowing that he could let his gift out freely made it that much more exciting.

  Jere reached down to unfasten Wren’s pants, making quick work of the fastening. Wren shuddered as he felt his fly undone and his skin exposed to the air. It had been so difficult to let his guard down when he and Jere first started to explore each other’s bodies, but now he felt certain that he could trust Jere to do just about anything and make it feel good.

  Jere worked his hands inside of Wren’s pants, sliding them down a few inches and pulling out his cock, which was already growing thick and hard. He stroked it gently, and then moved his hands back up under Wren’s shirt.

  Wren let out a sigh as Jere touched him. This man made him feel better than anything else in the world; he had for so long, and Wren didn’t think he could ever possibly tire of it. Jere touched him in exactly the right way, at exactly the right time, and he knew Wren’s body better than Wren did.

  After planting another kiss on Wren’s lips, Jere smiled and dropped to his knees, his face just inches away from Wren’s cock.

  “Is this the kind of examination that you wanted?” Jere teased, looking up at Wren without a trace of shame. “I took a good blow to the head. Medical advice says we should definitely check my gag reflex, swallowing abilities... make sure my tongue works....”

  Wren smiled, trying to hold back a laugh. Jere leaned in, letting the tip of his tongue brush against the head of Wren’s cock.

  “And later, we can make sure everything else works.”

  Even more turned on by the warm breath as Jere spoke, Wren felt himself growing full of need. He reached out, running his hands through Jere’s hair lovingly, then jerking him down, pleased when Jere responded enthusiastically. Wren held him down, forcing Jere to take him deep for a few seconds, before relaxing his grip and letting him do as he pleased.

  When Jere sucked his cock, when Wren was rough with him, it was more than just the physical sensation. It somehow seemed to put things back in order, like they were meant to be. Wren hated being a slave, and he hated anything that reminded him of it. Reversing their roles in bed made interruptions like the vet clinic easier to tolerate.

  The fact that Jere didn’t so much as question any of it made it that much easier.

  It wasn’t long before Wren stopped thinking about slavery and roles and ways to overcome them—Jere had his mouth wrapped around Wren’s cock, one hand clutching his ass, and the other playing with his balls, and Wren didn’t want to think about anything else at all. He relaxed quickly, the familiar hands and mouth doing their work, and he thought about how much he loved Jere, and how perfect everything was.

  Jere worked him expertly, starting slow and taking his time, moving his lips and tongue over Wren’s cock like it was his favorite thing in the world. From what he told Wren on many occasions, it was one of his favorite things in the world, so it was a rather apt comparison.

  Slowly, he built up speed and excitement, and when Wren started to thrust, Jere obligingly took the length of his cock deep into his mouth, swallowing him down and making a little humming noise that Wren could feel vibrating through his whole body.

  Wren reached out, grabbing a fistful of Jere’s hair and pulled him close, thrusting into his mouth while still keeping a tight grip. Jere’s response was to suck more eagerly and to reach around, wrapping his arms around Wren’s legs to steady himself as Wren fucked deep into his mouth, over and over again.

  “You feel so good,” Wren told him, happy to help keep the pace up by pounding into Jere’s face with his hips.

  “Are you finding me in full working order?” Jere teased, taking advantage of the mind connection. “We have to try this sometime when you’re sitting at the front desk of the clinic. So fucking hot.”

  During the day, Wren probably wouldn’t agree, since there was important work to focus on. Right now, it sounded amazing, and the idea of Jere taking care of him while he pretended to work was too enticing not to think about. If it weren’t for the difficulty of getting dressed and walking through the house, he would suggest that they do it now, but it seemed like entirely too much work. Besides, the idea alone was enough fodder for Wren’s imagination, enough so that he realized he hadn’t even replied. “Okay,” he managed, after a while. He was too caught up in the blowjob to think of anything else. “We should try it tomorrow. Or later tonight.”

  He let Jere continue to suck him for a while, loving the lazy pace, and then he decided it was time to move on. He wanted more, and he knew Jere would only be too happy to give it to him.

  On impulse, he pulled Jere up by his hair, pleased when he saw the big smile that the move inspired in Jere. Wren pulled him closer, forcing Jere to bend down a little bit so his ear was at the same level as Wren’s mouth. Wren could have stood on his tiptoes to reach, but it was better to make Jere bend for him.

  “I want to fuck you,” Wren revealed, sensing through the connection as well as through Jere’s body language that Jere was in total agreement.

  “Yes, please,” Jere agreed, pressing his body against Wren’s. “How do you want me, love?”

  Wren smiled. He loved when Jere offered himself up like this. “Bent over the edge of the bed,” he decided. It wasn’t the most intimate position, but he wasn’t feeling particularly intimate tonight, he was feeling rather predatory, and this only accentuated that feeling.

  Jere smiled, gave Wren’s cock one more sensual stroke, and then positioned himself as requested, searching around under the covers for the lube. They had started celebrating their anniversary before they even left home the other day, and Jere had insisted that cleaning up would have been a waste of time that they could otherwise spend touching each other. He handed the lube to Wr
en when he found it.

  “Messy,” Wren teased, taking the lube and giving Jere’s ass a playful smack.

  “I think we both liked the results of our messes,” Jere pointed out, shaking his ass a little bit as he smiled back at Wren.

  “I think you’re absolutely right,” Wren agreed. He worked quickly with the lube, stretching and teasing Jere to the point of moaning in just a few minutes. He paused, considering the fact that he was still fully clothed, and then decided that he kind of liked it that way.

  “Look at you, all spread and waiting for me,” he teased, one hand pressing down on Jere’s back as the other reached around to grab at Jere’s cock. “All hot and hard for me already.”

  “You make me hot,” Jere mumbled, thrusting into Wren’s hand. “Make me hotter?”

  Wren happily complied. He knew just how much Jere loved feeling his heat, no matter how much of a threat it was. While he kept it private, he had started using it so often in bed that it was feeling natural. Maybe it made it harder to tamp it down when he needed to, but the benefits of adding it to their sex life were amazing.

  Tonight, he started with the hand that was stroking Jere’s cock, expertly controlling the temperature until it went up higher and higher, enough that he could feel Jere squirming.

  “Trying to get away, or to get closer?” Wren asked.

  “Both?” Jere replied. “It feels good. And it hurts.”

  Wren just smiled. He knew that Jere liked both of those things, and he loved giving them to him. He was getting quite skilled at the hurting part. He had been trained for years to make his masters feel good, but hurting someone had terrified him the first few times. The way Jere coaxed, begged, and came harder than ever when they played like that assured Wren he was on the right path. Lately, Wren had taken on quite the ambition of his own.

 

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