Page 30 of His Master

“Yeah,” I said, letting out a breath of relief. “I…I feel a potential bond.”

“That’s amazing. And don’t let people tell you instant bonds don’t happen. That’s what happened with me and Samson, and even though he’ll deny it, the same sort of happened with Hayden and Mace.”

“They almost bonded instantly, but because they then put an entire country’s distance between them, the potential bond receded for a while, until they met again.”

“Right, but the groundwork was laid, and that bond roared into full existence almost immediately when they met again.”

Ari was right about that, and it gave me hope. Everything he said gave me hope that this fantasy I’d embarked on could become my daily reality.

I shook my head again, not wanting to get ahead of myself. “I’m just going to stay in the moment for now. Victor has some other things surrounding his work that are taking a lot of his attention. I don’t want to distract him from that.”

“Understandable,” Ari said. “And hey, you might just be able to help him with work, whatever it is. Trust me, a good slave is an asset to his master in more ways than sex.”

It was a small thing to say, but it filled me with hope and excitement. I knew a little about business, not to mention Victory Holdings, through Mason’s company’s involvement with them and Hayden’s kidnapping, and I really might be able to help if Victor was willing to confide in me.

Ari and I finished up the official check-in protocol questions. By then, Gwen and Oliver were fussing, and he had to go.

I felt better after the call. I took a moment to just close my eyes and breathe. While my eyes were closed, I reached out to Victor through whatever proto-bond we were forming. It was like a single thread that might form a thick rope later.

Since all I could feel was that he was still asleep, I set to work in the kitchen, making breakfast. I was actually a good cook. Since neither Papa nor Dad had the time to cook, they used to take advantage of a meal service and have all our food delivered. But for the last year or so, I’d become the primary chef for the family, and I was damn good at it, if I did say so myself.

Fortunately, Victor had everything in his fridge that I needed to make my special French toast, eggs, and sausage. I went to work with a smile, donning an apron over my naked body, since not even spitting sausage had a right to mark my body instead of Victor.

Soon enough, the kitchen was filled with the scent and sizzle of breakfast. Just in time for me to sense Victor stirring.

I quickly laid out everything in plates on the tray I’d found, added coffee, cream, and sugar to the tray, then carried the breakfast back into the bedroom.

Victor was just awake, pushing himself up on one arm and glancing anxiously around, as if looking for me.

“Master,” I said, setting the tray on the empty side of the bed, then kneeling and watching him, as he’d ordered me, with a warm smile of pride in the food I’d made for him.

Victor broke into a smile at the sight of me, and the breakfast, of course. He was absolutely gorgeous first thing in the morning. His eyes were still sleep-bleary and his hair a tousled mess. His alpha scent was strong, and it mingled with a faint, ordinary sweat scent. His face bore an overnight growth of stubble that made him look casual and masculine.

The overall picture had my sore hole twitching and dampening with slick.

“Such a good boy,” Victor mumbled thickly, then rubbed his hands over his face to chase the last of his sleep away. “What a treat.”

He looked at me with those words, not the breakfast. My insides sang with joy, knowing I’d pleased my master, and my heart was light. Ari had said relationships like this could be permanent. This might be the first morning of the rest of my life.

“Get up here,” Victor said, patting an empty spot on the bed, then sitting up more fully.

As I rushed to obey, he moved the tray to his lap. I didn’t need to be told to assume a kneeling pose. I did it without thought, spreading my knees wide and giving him everything to look at as he ate.

“Stroke yourself while I eat,” he ordered with a sly grin.

I caught my breath, then did exactly as he asked, reaching between my legs to grasp my cock, quickly bringing it to attention.

“These are delicious,” Victor said after his first bite of French toast. “You’re an amazing cook as well as a perfect slave.”

“Thank you, Master,” I said breathlessly, stroking faster in my excitement at his praise.

Victor chuckled. “Slow down, boy. You’re going to regret it if you bring yourself too close to orgasm. You know I’m not going to let you come.”

“Yes, Master,” I said, forcing myself to slow my strokes.

Honestly, I wanted to bring myself right to the point where it would hurt not to come. I wanted to suffer for Victor’s pleasure, and I knew he wanted to watch it.

“Have you eaten?” he asked as he cut the sausage into pieces.

---