Page 19 of Collin: Episodes 4-6
“But I’m here, again, and Damian wasn’t here.”
“You’re where you need to be. Damian doesn’t sleep well in here. He prefers his own bed. To be frank, Damian is a mattress hog. I think that’s how it’s said here.” Mr. Moreau chuckled. “And then there’s the fact that Damian’s bed is the softest monstrosity that the man could find. Richard complains any time he lies on it. I refuse on principle.”
Collin wiggled. The mattress in this room was fairly dense, just the way he liked it. He’d gotten used to sleeping on a futon on the floor at his previous place. Even the guest bedroom bed in “his” room was almost too soft now. But this bed was perfect.
“I don’t want to make Damian jealous.”
“You won’t, pet.” Mr. Moreau reached out and stroked Collin’s cheek. “It’s good of you to think of others, but it’s also not your responsibility to moderate how much attention you take. That’s not the sharing of power you agreed to. It’s up to you to make your needs known and up to Richard and me to decide how to meet those needs. The same goes for Damian. He, also, is not responsible for balancing the household, only for being himself. Like yesterday, when he kissed you, he wasn’t responsible for you; he was only responsible for being himself.”
Collin made a face. “You know that makes me feel like I’m in free fall until one of you catches me and tells me what to do, right?”
Mr. Moreau hummed. “Is that so? Do you need an order now? Are you in free fall in this moment?”
Collin grimaced. “Does untethered count?”
Mr. Moreau laughed. “Ask.”
Collin groaned. He hid his face in the bed and shook his head.
Mr. Moreau pulled back the covers and slapped Collin across the ass. “And you’re doing so well with the toilet permissions. Ask, brat, before I tell Richard you need discipline.”
Collin curled up into a ball, arms around his pillow. He glared at Mr. Moreau over the end of it. “Can’t you ask me to do something easier? It’s been a day.”
“No.”
Collin huffed and shoved his face back into the pillow. The sting on his ass, though, felt good. And the memory of writhing with the vibrator inside him came back to remind him of the consequences of not asking. Familiar cold prickles of panic were already crawling up his arms and legs, and there was that sensation of impossibilities and denial crawling into his chest. Lying naked in half the massive bed on his own was too much. And asking would stop the too much even if the thought of asking was stirring nausea in his stomach.
“Fine.” He stuck his face out above the end of the pillow. “Mr. Moreau, would you please catch me and tell me what to do?”
Mr. Moreau reached out with one long arm and grabbed him, pulling him across the bed and into his side. “Richard should leave anchor points on you.”
“Huh?”
“Cuffs. A collar. Things I could use to tie you to other things so you have no questions about where you’re supposed to be.”
Collin’s dick tried to thicken in the cage. His breath stuttered.
“I read your contract. It looks like you like that?”
“I would like to claim the fifth.”
Mr. Moreau chuckled. “Damian’s the lawyer, boy, not me.” He tucked Collin into his side and draped one leg over Collin’s. “Stay.”
It was enough. Collin let himself drift in the moment, feeling the bed and the sheets and breathing in the scent that was uniquely Mr. Moreau. A question was rotating through his head, and it slipped out.
“Am I going to be spending a lot of time naked?”
Mr. Moreau’s only response was to grab Collin’s ass and squeeze just to the point of pain. “Go to sleep, pet.”
Collin stirred. He was on his stomach now. There was a new weight on the bed. He turned his head, sensing Mr. Reevesworth, his scent, his movements. That long solid body came to rest beside him. A hand stroked over his head. Collin snuggled into it. Another hand stroked down his back, moving aside the covers and settling on his ass. Collin breathed out. Whatever was happening did not seem to require him waking fully.
A hand spread the cheeks of Collin’s ass, and a finger slid into him, eased by the slick from the shower. Collin blinked, tensing. For a moment, neither he nor Mr. Reevesworth moved. Surely Mr. Reevesworth knew he was awake? His entire body had gone tight under the man’s hands.
Did he want this?
Warmth flooded inside of him. Yes. He let his muscles loosen and closed his eyes. For a moment, nothing happened. He lay there, aware, waiting, feeling. Each millimeter of that finger inside of him was the focus of his attention.
Mr. Reevesworth sank the digit deeper. Soft squelching from the lube applied hours before echoed in the room. Mr. Moreau rolled over. Collin half flinched and forced himself to loosen again. Mr. Moreau seemed to prop himself up on an elbow. Collin couldn’t see. His eyes were closed, and his face was turned to the other side of the bed.
