Page 76 of Collin: Episodes 1-3
“Yes.”
“Still want this?”
Collin’s lungs screamed for air. He pulled on his wrists. Damian tightened his grip. Collin slumped against the wall, but that gave him no distance. Damian’s thigh was up against his dick. “I don’t even know what this is?”
Damian chuckled, dark and low. “I’m going to turn you into a mess, and your master is going to watch.”
Collin’s skin tingled from his face to his legs. He tried to look toward Mr. Reevesworth, but Damian’s free hand gripped his chin.
“Unless you use that word, little brother, I’m going to kiss you.”
Collin dragged air into his body. How could one feel this naked with clothes on?
Damian’s lips pressed against his, firm and slightly cold from outside, but they didn’t stop there. He grasped Collin’s lips with own, pulling them apart. He licked his way inside, tasting and searching. His teeth scraped against the edges of Collin’s mouth, sharpness amidst the warmth.
Collin’s head spun. He pulled and struggled, whether to pull away and catch his bearings or to get closer to Damian he wasn’t sure. He just needed to move, but Damian was a cage of muscle and heat.
He gasped for air and groaned when Damian finally drew back. But another hand, more slender with longer fingers, took his wrists from Damian, and a long, strong arm wrapped around his back, dragging him forward against another body. He blinked upward into Mr. Reevesworth’s face, right before he was kissed again.
His head fell back, and he opened without thought. Like a banner somewhere deep in his mind, a stray voice muttered, I’m getting fucked tonight, aren’t I?
Mr. Reevesworth’s hand descended down Collin’s back and gripped the curve of his ass, pulling him up on his toes and forcing him to lean against Mr. Reevesworth, unable to catch himself with his hands caught behind his head.
Mr. Reevesworth rested his forehead against Collin’s. “Beautiful.”
Collin trembled.
Mr. Reevesworth drew back. “Émeric, would you take Collin for me? Damian and I are going to the playroom.”
Collin blinked. The world around him was shifting and changing, but then his legs hit a sofa and his knees were giving out.
Mr. Moreau’s arms, still covered in his open shirt, wrapped around him and drew him in. “Pull your legs up, love. There. Now put your head down.”
Collin’s head dropped against Mr. Moreau’s chest. The man’s heart thumped slow and steady inside his chest, like a deep drum, steady and reassuring.
There were footsteps moving away, and the air in the room felt empty. He looked up, blinking.
Mr. Moreau put his hand on the back of Collin’s head and guided him back down until Collin was lying in his lap. “Richard took Damian into the playroom.”
“I thought…” Was he disappointed? A feeling he couldn’t quite name sat unquietly in his stomach. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you did so many things right.”
“I don’t understand.” Collin tried to blink away tears. Even with his head and shoulders against Mr. Moreau’s heat, he was cold.
Mr. Moreau’s hands glided through Collin’s hair. “Damian needs more tonight than Richard wants to show you just yet.”
“Oh.”
Collin curled his fingers, the urge to rake skin off his arms rising up and gripping him by the throat. He made a fist in his pants.
“Come. Up.” Mr. Moreau urged Collin up. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”
Mutely, Collin obeyed. Mr. Moreau stripped off his shirt as he went, leaving it over the end of the couch. He led Collin out into the hallway and toward Collin’s bedroom. “Let’s find you something comfortable. You’re dressed for being out and about.”
Collin opened the drawers robotically, still trying not to cry. He picked a pair of soft, dark-blue pajama pants and a loose sweater. Mr. Moreau leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He watched as Collin pulled on the clothes.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?”
