Pet

by Lesli Richardson

  When he stops at one, Jace pulls me up short, makes me turn to face him, and holds both of my hands.

  “I love you, Eddie,” he says, and I know Carter can hear him. “But nothing matters in this world except where we are now in our lives, and where we’re going. We’re putting the last ghost to bed for good right now. Understand?”

  I nod. “Yes, Master.” He hasn’t called me Eddie in weeks. I actually had to think for a moment who he was talking to, because I’ve accepted Topper completely as my new name. For legal purposes, he’s told me he’ll refer to me as Tom if we have to give someone a name, for example, at a doctor’s office. But just like he’s Jace, and their older brother is Park instead of Parker, Jr., my name is now Topper.

  Still holding my left hand, he leads me over to the grave. Carter sets the bottle and shot glasses off to the side behind him and glances around before unfastening his fly. “Glad we got here when we did. I’m not sure how much longer I could’ve held it.

  Jace releases my hand. “Me, too.” He starts to unfasten his fly, then looks at me. “Come on. You, too.”

  Confused, I start to follow suit when I actually read the nameplate on the marker stone.

  EDWARD ANDREW FOWLER

  With his dates of birth and death. I need a second to process that and realize who he is.

  My father died twenty-six years ago.

  “Come on, Topper,” Jace says. “You first, buddy. We can’t hold it all day.”

  I stare at those letters on the bronze plate as I let loose and my stream of piss floods over the nameplate, quickly joined by the brothers. We spray it all over the marker stone and what I imagine is the head of the grave, my anger growing and swelling even as hot tears flood my eyes and blur my sight.

  “Take that, you motherfucking chickenshit asshole,” I say.

  “He was arrested twenty-two times in four states for petty crimes,” Carter says as he finishes and shakes it. “Fathered three more kids after getting your mom pregnant when he was twenty-three, two of whom are still alive, two girls, different mothers. The son died in infancy from SIDS. He didn’t raise the girls, though, because he ran out on their moms, too. Seems he had a pattern.” He zips up and pulls a package of wipes from his back pocket and uses one.

  Jace finishes up and Carter hands him a wipe. “He spent a total of eight years in jail over the course of his life,” Jace says. “He died here in a homeless camp. Froze to death one night. Police found him the next morning, naked. Apparently, all his stuff was taken by others. He was identified by fingerprints. Pauper’s grave, obviously. Frankly, good riddance to bad fucking garbage.”

  Numb, I finish, shake, zip, and take the proffered wipe. “Thank you.”

  Carter cracks open the bottle and pours us three shots. Then, thinking for a moment, he says, “Fuck that fucking cowardly piece of shit asshole. I think you became a damned good man. A lot better man than you would have been had someone like him been an influence in your life.”

  Jace nods. “Fuck that fucking cowardly piece of shit asshole. If he hadn’t abandoned your mom, we might never have met you.” He brushes a kiss across my lips. “And you are the best fucking thing in my life, baby. No offense, bro.”

  Carter laughs. “None taken.”

  Warm heat fills me and I haven’t even thrown back my shot yet. I stare down at the piss-covered marker. “Fuck that fucking cowardly piece of shit asshole.” I shoot him a bird with my free hand. “Fuck you, you goddamned motherfucker. I thrived despite you. I lived despite you. And if there is a Hell, I hope you’re burning there.”

  “Amen,” the brothers echo.

  We all clink glasses and drink. Carter takes the glasses and picks up the bottle. “I’ll wait for you in the car. Take your time—I’m going to call home.”

  When we’re alone again, Jace pulls me into his arms and tightly holds me. “You and me, pet. Forever. You and me against the whole goddamned world.”

  “Yes, Master. Forever.”

  “Love you, baby.” He kisses me and every other thought flees my mind.

  He loves me.

  I have no doubts about that, and no desire to run away from the brutal truth of the nature of our love.

  He commands, and I obey.

  I need it that way, and he loves me for it.

  “This was a good surprise, Master. Thank you.”

  He tips his head back so he can look into my eyes. I know that mischievous smile he’s wearing. It’s an evil smile.

  Carter has the same smile.

  The bastard’s smile.

  “Oh, this is only part one of the surprise.”

  After having a good dinner at a high-end steakhouse, we spend the night in Texarkana—us in a separate room from Carter—and Jace brutally and beautifully fucks my brains out of my head. By the time I finally collapse late that night, he’s made me come twice, fucking the first one out of me and fisting the second.

  I awaken the next morning achy and sore in all the good ways, with nothing but warm, fuzzy feelings rolling around inside my brain. I rolled toward Jace overnight, my arm draped across his chest. I start to carefully get up, thinking he’s still asleep, but then he grabs my hair and tightly fists it.

  “Where you think you’re going, baby?” he mumbles, cracking an eye open.

  My heart skips a beat. I never realized how that wasn’t just bullshit. I mean, maybe that’s not what it physically does, but it sure feels like it, our souls connecting through a simple gaze.

  I’m already moving toward his cock, even before he has to yank me down there.

  My mouth’s watering, my own cock rock-hard. Jace only came once last night, but considering our ages, I’m not complaining.

  As I engulf his cock his warm chuckle fills my ears and his painful grip turns gentle, tender. “Good boy. Take it for me.”

  Absolutely, I will.

  It doesn’t take me long to get him over, and when he finishes, I lie there with his softening cock in my mouth, waiting for my next order.

  Smiling, he pats his chest and I carefully scramble up his body to snuggle there. He flips me onto my back, spits into his palm, and holds his hand out to me. “You’d better.”

  I spit, too, and the friction against my cock, as that’s the only lube he uses this morning to jerk me off, is the good kind of painful that drives me over the edge in just a couple of minutes.

  When he holds his hand up again, I grab it and eagerly lick it completely clean while he smiles. “Such a good boy,” he whispers. “My perfect pet.”

  Yeah, I’m…gone. Between my raw cock and the subspace he’s slammed me into, he can ask me to do anything in this moment and I’ll happily agree.

  What he does is wrap his arms around me and hold me tightly cuddled against his body while he whispers to me all the things he loves about me. Not just your average things, either.

  All the dark and dirty things.

  The filthy things.

  He loves how I will completely debase myself for him without hesitation.

  “If Carter wasn’t my brother,” he says, “You’d spend all day sitting on that back seat with an inflatable vibrating butt plug stuffed inside you and no pants.

  My needy whimper amuses him because he darkly smiles. “Oh, yes, I absolutely would, baby. Lucky for you, I’m going to let you wear jeans and underwear, so you don’t make a mess on his seats.”

  I whimper again, because I know he’s serious.

  “Oh, and you’ll be wearing a new chastity cage I bought for you. Locked on.”

  My moan makes him laugh because he feels my cock twitch between us.

  He bites the side of my neck, hard enough to make me moan again with the painful pleasure of it. “My sweet, slutty pet. I want your every thought today during our ride to be of me owning you. That cage will stay on you for the next two weeks. Now that I know how to make you come without touching your cock, I want to see how nicely you can beg me for it.”

  Fuuuuuuck me, I’m gone. I haven’
t been this horny since…

  Well, since Carter.

  I’m hard again and grind against his leg, making him laugh once more before he slaps me on the ass. “Shower, baby. I’ll give you a freebie in there, and then you’re getting locked and stuffed. We have another long day today.”

  I throw myself out of bed and race into the bathroom. Locked up for two weeks?

  I’m going to be absolutely miserable, because I know he’s going to take every opportunity to torture me and make me horny.

  And I’m going to fucking love every goddamned second of it, too.

  Early that evening, not long before sunset, we pull up to a small cemetery on the outskirts of St. Louis. Jace finally shuts off the vibrator in my butt plug, but even the distraction of that, and the mean, spiky metal chastity cage locked on me, can’t distract me.

  I remember this place.

  I remember it was too nice of a day to be so sad.

  I remember missing my Mom and wishing she was there and not in the box.

  I remember all the adults looking at me with pity and patting my head.

  I remember the neighbor, who was looking after me until the state could decide if I had family or not, explaining that Mom had gone to Heaven because Jesus wanted her there.

  I wanted to know what was wrong with me that Jesus didn’t want me, too.

  Or what was wrong with me that Mom wouldn’t take me with her.

  No one ever explained that to me.

  Funny how I forgot about all of that over the years, but I still carried that trauma with me in how I acted and believed about myself.

  Jace squeezes my hand as we follow Carter through the cemetery. Her grave, like my father’s, is situated in a section of inexpensive markers in a far corner.

  Except her grave has a new stone that looks like it was recently installed, and it stands out from the others because it’s about two feet tall instead of flush to the ground.

  Ella Anne Fowler

  Beloved Mother

  And listing the dates of her birth and death.

  When my knees go out, Jace catches me and eases me to the ground, sitting behind me so I’m between his legs and leaning back against him, with his arms wrapped tightly around me as I cry. Carter sits next to us and, after a silent glance at Jace, who nods, he holds my hand, tightly squeezing.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more than this, Eddie,” Carter whispers. “I planned this whole thing years ago, before that day in the desert. I always daydreamed about pissing on that bastard’s grave and giving your mom the honor she deserved. I loved you then, I love you now, and I’m always going to love you. I can’t lie and say I don’t.

  “I hated leaving you in Germany last year and wished I could have brought you home with me. But my brother is the luckiest man in the world to have you, and I trust him with my life. But, more importantly, I trust him with yours.”

  Carter kisses my hand and reaches in to cup the back of my head, pressing his forehead to mine like he used to all those years ago. “You deserve happiness in your life, buddy. You deserve a guy like Jace. You’ve damn well fucking earned this peaceful retirement. Never forget you are well-loved, and you are a very good boy.”

  He kisses me, a press of lips on lips, a tender, bittersweet good-bye, the one we really couldn’t have in a medical ward full of other people, at the time.

  When he sits back and releases me, Jace pulls me tightly against him, turns my face toward him, and hungrily devours my mouth with his. He painfully squeezes my chin, staring into my eyes.

  His voice sounds choked. “Who do you belong to, pet?”

  “I belong to you, Master.”

  “Say my name.”

  “Jason Cedric Wilson.”

  “And what’s your name?”

  “Thomas Peter Dorsey Wilson.”

  When he glares at me it takes me a moment, but I get it. “Pet. My name is Master’s pet.”

  His brilliant smile painfully hardens my cock. Painfully, because it presses against the spiky nubs of the cock cage jailing it.

  “Good boy,” he coos, his grip on my chin gentling as he nuzzles his nose against mine.

  Carter pours us shots, but this time, he’s holding four glasses. The fourth he fills and sets on the base of the gravestone.

  Jace holds up his glass. “To loved ones lost.”

  Carter slowly nods. “To those we couldn’t save.”

  They look at me and I think long and hard about this before adding my toast. “To happy new beginnings. May we never take them for granted.”

  “Amen,” the brothers echo before we clink glasses and drink.

  I reach over and take the fourth shot glass and pour it over Mom’s grave. “I wish I could remember more about you, Mom. I think I got your tenacity. I hope you’d be proud of me for being a survivor and making it this long.”

  I lean back against Jace and tightly pull his arms around me. “Mom, this is Jason, and he’s my husband, and I love him.” I tip my head back to look up into his eyes. “He’s the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving.”

  Jace smiles and tenderly nuzzles my nose again. “Amen, baby,” he says.

  I look over at Carter. “Mom, this is Carter. He’s my brother-in-law, but a long time ago, he was the man who saved my life and who loved me even when I didn’t and couldn’t love myself.”

  I hold my hand out to him and he smiles as he takes it, giving me a squeeze.

  “You weren’t hard to love, buddy,” he says. “You were just hard to hold on to.” He releases my hand and punches Jace in the shoulder hard enough it rocks both of us.

  “Ow, motherfucker,” Jace complains, but from his tone I can tell he’s not mad. “What the hell was that for?”

  Carter smiles. “Proactive punch. Just in case you do something and I’m not around to protect him.”

  I laugh, and it feels light and airy. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” With a pained grunt, Carter hauls himself to his feet, picks up the glasses and bottle, and then reaches down and ruffles my hair. “Take your time, guys. I’m going to call home and check on my pets.”

  Once we’re alone again, Jace rests his chin on my shoulder. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet her, baby.”

  “Me, too.”

  “If you ever want to meet your sisters, Carter gave me the info.”

  I think about that. “Let’s survive me meeting your family first, huh?”

  “Deal.” He nips the shell of my right ear. “Love you, baby.”

  In the beginning, I had a hard time reconciling him using that word for me. I didn’t feel I deserved it. I didn’t feel like it belonged to me.

  Now? It’s as natural as breathing. All of this is.

  “Love you, too, Master.”

  He chuckles and as the shadows lengthen, he holds me, slowly rocking me as we stare at the gravestone my ex-lover and owner paid to have installed.

  This man, who was assigned to kill me, has killed for me.

  I think it’s safe to say I’ve finally achieved a stable level of functional adulthood.

  I settle back against him, feeling safe, loved.

  Wanted.

  It’s the best feeling in the whole goddamned world.

  The End

  http://www.LesliRichardson.com

  Want more? Keep reading for more information about other books and trilogies set in the same world!

  The World of the Governor Trilogy

  The world of the Governor Trilogy revolves around rich and powerful people who pull the strings of various governmental entities—and each other—in a multitude of ways. There are a variety of romantic pairings and sub-tropes, and all of the books contain varying elements of power exchange relationships.

  The seminal trilogy is the Governor Trilogy—which morphed into (as of this writing) five books.

  Governor

  Lieutenant

  Chief

  Yes, Governor

  Pet

&n
bsp; While the individual series stand alone and can be read in any order, and characters from various trilogies make appearances in some of the others, the best reading order to avoid spoilers and not miss any backstory tidbits is as follows:

  Governor Trilogy

  Determination Trilogy

  Dignity

  Diligence

  Desire

  Devastation Trilogy

  Dirge

  Solace

  Release

  Inequitable Trilogy

  Indiscretion

  Innocent

  Incisive

  Devout Trilogy

  Sacred

  Profane

  Penance

  Deviant Trilogy

  Inappropriate

  Salacious

  Depraved

  You can always check out the Governor Trilogy page on my website to keep track of any new additions to the world. Yes, there will be more books set in this world coming in the future.

  https://tymberdalton.com/books/series-info/governor-trilogy/

  Free Preview: Poly

  The following is a preview from Poly by Tymber Dalton writing as Lesli Richardson.

  Description

  (Contemporary poly romance, mmf, HEA.)

  * * *

  I love my husband…and his boyfriend.

  And he loves us. Love isn’t always neat and tidy.

  Unfortunately, there are those who don’t understand. When we finally decide to be a family together, it means we have to fight to keep what we love before others rip us apart.

  Zoey

  Friday Afternoon

  * * *

  I pinch the bridge of my nose as I struggle against what’s sure to quickly escalate into a screaming migraine. The middle of the check-out line at Publix, with my overflowing cart only half unloaded, on a Friday afternoon, and with three people backed up behind me, is not the best of times or places to have a “conversation” with my ex-husband.