Page 2 of Collin: Episodes 13-15
Mr. Reevesworth chuckled. “Oh, were you being shy, kitten?”
“Yes, sir. You’re teasing me.”
“In more ways than one.” Mr. Reevesworth’s lips broke into a wide smile.
Collin made fists out of his hands. Every muscle in his back rippled as he tried to maintain posture even as his cock grew more and more sensitive.
“Sir, we don’t have condoms in here,” Damian said. “Do you want me to use one this time or not?”
“No condom, Pup. I want my kitten to know I had him used today.”
“Yes, sir.”
Collin’s cock thickened even as his stomach tied itself in desperate knots. Fuck. The idea of Damian mounting him while his master offered him up was hot. And terrifying. First, he’d been Émeric’s breakfast, and now he was Richard’s toy. The sensation of being small and powerless crawled up in his throat and brought tears to his eyes.
Mr. Moreau let go and tapped Collin’s cock, making it sway and bounce. They were so playing with him. “Kitten’s ready, Richard. Do you want to see?”
“Stay as you are, pet.” Mr. Reevesworth squeezed Collin’s wrists and let go.
Collin stared at a far point on the opposite wall, heart hammering. There was a long silence and then sounds he belatedly realized meant his sir and his master were kissing. Then Mr. Reevesworth’s hand wrapped around his wrists again.
“Pup, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.” Damian’s voice came from nearby behind him.
“Any questions at this point?”
“Do you have any instructions, sir?”
“I’ll walk you through it. This is a treat for you, Pup. You’ve been exceptionally well behaved, and I want to recognize that. Kitten needs to be used, and I want you relaxed before we go discuss our contract.”
“You mean after listening to the three of you negotiate for the last two-plus hours?”
Mr. Reevesworth chuckled. “You were very well behaved, Pup.”
Damian laughed ruefully. “Well behaved and hard, sir.”
There were sounds of someone on the bed, and then Damian was right there, his hands gripping at Collin’s hips, his knees between Collin’s knees.
Damian was going to fuck him. Now. Collin’s brain went blank and thoughtless for a static-filled moment. It was one thing during contract negotiations to say that Mr. Reevesworth had the right to let anyone in The Residency make use of him and another for it to actually happen.
He could safe word; he could totally safe word. He knew it. Everyone in the room would respect it. They’d proven it.
He didn’t want to break the illusion that he was just a pet that could be ordered onto his knees and fucked. He wanted it so badly he felt sick. He didn’t want to run from the humiliation bubbling up inside of him, desperate and screaming and absolutely delicious. He wanted to roll around in the embarrassment, in the wanting of it all. His skin tingled.
But another part of him was yelling in absolute fear, screaming that Damian’s hands were now on his ass, that his thumbs were spreading his hole. Any moment now, and it would be the point of no return, where he would never, ever, be able to look Damian in the face again and know that Damian had never had his ass. His stomach flipped, threatening to force bile up into his throat.
He was going to be the pet everyone had had their dick in, while he dominated no one. He didn’t even cum. He was Émeric’s little milk boy, his breakfast cream.
“Kitten.” Mr. Moreau’s voice came from the side. Collin opened his eyes and focused on his sir’s face. It was hard to do when he was barely breathing and his vision was getting fuzzy. He should probably breathe. Breathing was good. Sometimes he found himself thinking so hard he forgot to do it.
Mr. Moreau studied his face, waiting. Collin blinked. Air was good. He was getting air. And Mr. Moreau’s face was clearer now.
Mr. Moreau nodded as if a concern had been eased. Then he tilted his head, and pure mischief filled his eyes. “What did I tell you about your hole?”
“That it should be seen, sir.” Collin tried to hide his face. Why did he have to make him SAY it?
“Then arch your back, mon petit chaton.”
