If I can climax right at that moment…
Jarvis prodded his hole, not attempting to breach him, but spreading the slick, playing with the wrinkled skin around his entrance. Garson moaned as his nerve endings sparked. He needed Jarvis to go further but was at the mercy of his Dom’s will. It was all so damn perfect.
Jarvis chuckled. “Your greedy hole is kissing the tip of my finger. Does my wanton boy need this?”
Garson sighed as Jarvis pushed past his tight rim, the slide of his rough finger so good. He squeezed around it, desperate for the feel of bare skin, no barrier between them.
Maybe someday?
He didn’t dare wish, but the moment the thought entered his mind, he seized on it. They could become a committed Dom and sub, they could bareback.
Jarvis probed his passage, twisting his hand around before pulling out, then adding his middle finger to the first. He stretched them apart, widening Garson’s opening and softening the rim some more. The inner caress from Jarvis soothed him, the experience of giving himself over to someone who actually cared no longer so terrifying. Jarvis pushed deeper, seeking, then hit Garson’s gland. He jerked in the sling, the unbelievable spark dancing along his spine in direct contrast to the confinement of his balls. They couldn’t react to the pleasure, couldn’t edge him closer to release.
When Jarvis added a third digit then banged against his prostate harder than before, Garson screamed. It had nothing to do with pain, just sensation. It washed over him, drowning him in need, desire, pain, want, desperation—the combination crazy-making.
“That’s it, boy. Let it out. Let it all go.”
He screamed until his throat was raw again, until he was sure he might pass out. Still, Jarvis relentlessly finger-fucked him, biting his inner thighs with small nips, keeping him in a state of frenzy.
“I need…” His voice had croaked the words, but he hadn’t been able to push out any more. He swallowed, took another breath, then tried again. “I need…”
“What, sweet boy? What do you need?”
A sob broke free before he could respond. “You.” He swallowed again. “I need you, Sir.”
Jarvis retreated from his passage. “Then I’m yours.”
Garson didn’t dare think too hard about the implications of what Jarvis had said. He just needed the Dom to fuck him into oblivion.
By the time Garson had lolled his head to watch what Jarvis was doing at the bench, he noted that the Dom already had the condom on and was slickening his covered shaft with a generous amount of lube. He shoved any last-minute trepidation aside in favor of the anticipation of Jarvis taking him for the first time.
The handsome, muscled Dom sidled over to him, his rigid column of flesh full and large. Jarvis encircled his dick then pressed it to Garson’s softened opening. The velvety steel of his length was so much more thrilling than the unforgiving dildos that’d been used on him. No matter what the claims, nothing was the same as having a real man up his ass.
Jarvis pushed past the tight ring of muscle until the tip popped in. He stilled then wrapped his hands around Garson’s suspended thighs as if to give himself purchase. Jarvis spread him wide, the burn and stretch easing the ache within his core.
“Thank you, boy. I’ve wanted this for a year.” Jarvis let out a throaty groan as he slid farther in. “Jesus. Tight, hot and perfect.” He hissed. “Your body’s pulling me in.”
Garson whimpered the moment Jarvis was fully seated, the heat like a furnace where they joined.
“Get ready, boy. I won’t be going easy.”
Jarvis dug his fingers in Garson’s flesh right as he pulled back, almost to the point of exiting Garson’s body. Then he slammed home in one fluid move. After a few more deep thrusts, Jarvis picked up speed, pounding fast and hard. Each time Jarvis rammed into him, the pinches and tugs on his genitals and nipples ramped him up that much higher.
As Jarvis fucked him, the sweat built between them, the sounds of their combined grunts and groans filling the room. Jarvis held his legs so tight, Garson knew there’d be bruises. He wanted there to be bruises. He’d feel Jarvis inside and out for days. Jarvis shoved his cock deeper into Garson and he cried out when Jarvis pegged him just right.
“That’s it,” Jarvis gasped. “That’s the spot.” He huffed as he vigorously pumped his hips, forcing his dick in and out of Garson’s hole. “Good boys come for their Masters. You’ll come for me, won’t you, boy?”
Master?
Garson couldn’t think too hard about it—his state of arousal had been so high for too long. He needed release.
“Get ready.”
While still holding one of his thighs so he could undoubtedly keep fucking him, Jarvis leaned forward then quickly released the clamps on his abused nubs. Right as the blood surged to the bits of flesh, the pain searing in its intensity, Jarvis yanked on the rope at the base of his sac. While Garson yelled through the agony assaulting his nipples, Jarvis unwound his cock and balls. Right as he pulled the cords free, Jarvis thrust deep and shouted.
“Come!”
Garson’s seed shot from him in a long arc, his dick pulsing more and more cum as his muscles tightened with the violence of his release. He was dimly aware of a fluttering in his ass—Jarvis coming with him. Jarvis kept nudging his gland, and his orgasm seemed to go on forever. He still floated, his eyes closed as he let himself soar through the universe, not one tiny spot on his body left untouched. It was as though Jarvis had torn him open then made him whole again.
Gentle touches and soft whispers of praise surrounded him and he was engulfed in warmth. A straw teased his lips and he clamped on to it, sucking the cool liquid down his scratchy throat.
“Go easy, baby. I don’t want your stomach to get upset.”
First Master. Now baby?
The words had come from above and behind him. The soothing warmth came from being cradled by Jarvis, who held him against his frame, his arms wrapped around Garson, keeping him safe.
“I…”
“Shh. You’re completely worn out. If you can’t or won’t stay with me tonight, I need you to at least rest for an hour before I drive you back to your car.”
“Stay?” His limbs were like jelly and his brain was a bit scrambled, but he needed to clarify what was going on.
Jarvis squeezed his middle softly as he kissed his temple. “Yes, boy. I’d like for you to stay with me if you’ll agree to it.”
“Just for tonight?” He wanted to, was ready to try with Jarvis, but not if it was only a one-time deal.
“For any night. I’d rather not have this conversation while you’re so loopy.” Jarvis chuckled. “Even if I am filled with pride over bringing you to that state. But what I have to say is something for you to consider with a clear head.”
Jarvis was right. He wasn’t sure he could remember his full name at that point, let alone make life-altering decisions. “Okay. But you mean it when you say not just tonight?”
“Yes, baby. I mean it.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
Jarvis nuzzled his neck. “Good. I’ll call Jordan at the club and tell him you’re leaving your car there tonight.”
“Oh. Thank you, Sir.” He’d never realized that Jarvis knew the owner of Club Consequence.
Jarvis squeezed him again. “You’re welcome. I need to watch out for my boy.”
“Your boy?” Someone who sees me. Who takes care of me.
“When we talk tomorrow, that’s what I’m hoping for.”
Even though Garson agreed with Jarvis that it was wiser to have long conversations when he was more coherent, one thing was abundantly clear in his mind. “When we talk tomorrow, I’m hoping for something too.”
“Oh?”
Garson wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or something more akin to fear that he detected in Jarvis’ voice.
“Yes. I’m hoping that you’ll be my Master.”
Jarvis chuckled, turning him in his embrace until he was cradled in Jarvis’ lap. “It sounds as though we’re both going to get what we want.”
Garson smiled up at Jarvis, marveling at how stupid he’d been by closing himself off for so long. Maybe I just needed to be ready. He was more than ready now that he’d opened his eyes to how marvelous Jarvis was.
“Yes, Sir. It definitely does.”
“I think I like the way ‘Master’ sounds better. Do you agree, boy?”
Garson laughed. It was almost foreign to him, but it felt great. “I agree, Master.”
Jarvis growled. “Good boy.”
He swooped in for a kiss and Garson relaxed in Jarvis’ hold as he claimed his mouth over and over. Eventually, the heat turned to soothing as they cuddled more than kissed. Garson yawned before he could stop it.
“Sorry, Sir… I mean, Master.”
“Mmm. Don’t be sorry, my tired baby. Let me carry you to the master bath. I have a large Jacuzzi tub and you can soak for a bit before we go to sleep. Your muscles must be sore.”
He was about to protest, insist that he could grab a quick shower to rinse off, but it occurred to him that this was what it meant to be someone’s boy. To finally have a Master who took care of him, not just a Dom to play with once a week for an hour.
Garson wrapped his arms around Jarvis’ neck. “Thank you. My Master.”
Even in the low light, Garson thought he saw a glimmer in Jarvis’ eyes as he smiled down at him. “My boy.”
Begging to Serve
Excerpt
Chapter One
“I’m sorry.”
Colin glanced up at Javier, the Hampton Road Club’s Head of Staff. The tall, lean man gazed down at him, his face a mask of disapproval. His brow held tension, his lips pressed in a severe line. They stood in the pantry where Javier had caught Colin reorganizing the shelves. He’d only been trying to help.
“You’ve been asked repeatedly not to interfere with Jean’s pantry, not to mention his cupboards and ice box and cutlery and…” Javier took a deep breath, followed by an exasperated sigh. “Your job is to obey his instructions in regards to the upkeep of the kitchen and to help with food prep. That’s all. I’m afraid I need to bring this to Saul’s attention.”
Colin’s eyes watered. He didn’t want Saul to be mad at him. The older gentleman who owned Hampton Road had been so very kind to him ever since Master Ned had brought him to the club. The men of Hampton Road were the only family he had left in the world since his grandmother had died right as he’d barely turned eighteen. He’d been fortunate to get a job at Saul’s bathhouse from almost the moment he’d set foot in Los Angeles—then had been even luckier when Ned had brought him to the sadomasochism club—even if he hadn’t known what that word meant at the time. After being approached many times by strange men at the bathhouse who wanted to have sex with him, he’d been relieved that Ned had suggested he come to the club to work instead. At Hampton Road, men weren’t allowed to ask him for sex unless he’d given his permission either by going into the submissives’ den or by wearing a special leather bracelet at the social mixers. So far, he hadn’t.
Javier shook his head as if in resignation. “Come along, Colin. It’s best I take you out of here anyway. Jean is having fits as it is.”
Colin had always carried himself with proper posture and kept his head up high. His grandmother had taught him that presentation was everything, that it was vital that he project to the world that he was strong—full of confidence. That wasn’t all she’d taught him, however. She’d explained the way of things to him, had helped him to understand that while there was nothing wrong with wanting a man over a woman, he had to keep himself safe by not revealing that fact to most people. She’d also advised him to wait before he had relations, to save it for the right man. He missed her so much.
Trailing behind Javier left Colin with the impression that he was being marched to his doom. In his mind, the worst thing that could happen would be Saul becoming angry or disappointed in him. Even if the board members threw him out in the streets for being disobedient, it wouldn’t matter as long as Saul wasn’t mad at him. He owed him so much for not only giving him a new job, but for taking him in as a resident at Hampton Road.
They ascended to the second floor of the three-story Tudor Revival mansion located in the most beautiful neighborhood Colin had ever seen. He’d been told it was San Marino, a very exclusive area south of Pasadena. It was much nicer than any of the places he’d lived near in Reno, Nevada.
They abruptly halted in front of one of the imposing mahogany doors. Everything in the large home was elegant and masculine. There was a strength in the décor—the woods were dark and solid, the carpets thick, the objects d’art made of bronze and heavy crystal.
Javier gave the door a light knock. “Master Saul. It’s Javier, sir. There’s an issue regarding Colin that needs to be addressed.”
The latch clicked, the knob turning right as the door swung wide open. Saul grumbled, “What has the little dickens gotten up to this t—” He stopped short, his eyebrows shooting up. “Ah. Colin.” Saul chuckled. “Since Javier saw fit to bring you personally to my study door, I imagine something very dire has occurred. Come inside then.”
Saul stood to the side, gesturing to the interior of the room before turning to Javier.
“Thank you, Javier. I’ll take it from here.”
“Very good, sir.”
Colin’s shoulders stooped as he advanced into Saul’s study. His grandmother wouldn’t have been very proud of him at all in that moment. But his heart hurt so much his shoulders were too heavy for him to hold up anymore.
“There, there, boy. Have a seat and we’ll figure things out, hmm?”
Colin chanced a peek at Saul, surprised to see the hint of a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. He couldn’t imagine why the older gentleman wasn’t scowling instead. As he lowered himself onto one of the velvet-cushioned side chairs, he ruminated over how many times he’d needed to be reprimanded. In every single instance when he’d promised not to touch or interfere with things at Hampton Road, then did anyway, he’d let Saul down.
But he just couldn’t help it. He was compelled to keep everything around him in a perfectly organized manner, the way he thought they should be arranged. But instead, all he did was upset everyone who didn’t view things the way he saw them. It wasn’t anything he did maliciously, he really wanted to contribute, do his part. Back at his home, he’d not only cared for his grandmother personally, she’d also let him maintain the house to his standards. Never once had she complained that she didn’t like it. On the contrary, she’d praised him for his hard work and he’d gone out of his way to bring the smile to her face that his meticulous efforts had inspired.
Saul handed him a glass of water he’d poured as Colin had settled himself on the chair. After giving Colin the tumbler, he ambled over to a humidor then proceeded to cut, light then take a strong puff of a thick cigar. Colin shifted uncomfortably. The only time he ever saw Saul smoke was when they were having one of their little ‘chats’. At last, Saul sat on the love seat across from him. He leaned back, draped his arm across the top of the small sofa then crossed his legs.
“Would you like to tell me why Javier brought you up here? Or would you rather I discuss it with him first?”
Colin attempted to straighten himself in his seat the best he could. He cleared his throat so he wouldn’t mumble or sound mousey, and he made sure he held Saul’s gaze. Grandmother had practiced with him so he’d never give the impression that he was weak. It was yet another warning from her. She’d explained that he’d need to offset his smaller stature by projecting strength and that he must always be honest and own up to his mistakes.
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About the Author
Morticia Knight
Morticia Knight spends most of her nights writing about men loving men forever after.
If there happens to be some friendly bondage or floggings involved, she doesn’t begrudge her characters whatever their filthy little heart’s desire. Even though she’s been crafting her naughty tales for more years than she’d like to share – her adventures as a published author began in 2011.
Once upon a time she was the lead singer in an indie rock band that toured the West Coast and charted on U.S. college radio. She currently resides on the northern Oregon coast and when she’s not fantasizing about hot men she takes walks along the ocean and annoys the local Karaoke bar patrons.
Morticia Knight loves to hear from readers. You can find contact information, website details and an author profile page at https://www.pride-publishing.com/
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