Page 60 of Five to Love Him
“You are my servant, and yet you demand,” I said, my voice a whisper and no more.
“It’s almost out, Farr. Get ready to do as you’re told.”
Oh, he was despicable. The worst. He was a fiend, and the scar on his lip, it marked him as such.
And yet, I did as he’d bid me, out of desperation and nothing more.
“What a good little lordling you are,” he said before finally letting go of my straining cock.
I breathed out, the relief not quite enough to give me release, but before my mind cleared of it, Conrad had pulled my breeches and trousers back up, had put me in order if not for how he had used me, if not for the outline of my arousal underneath the fabric.
“This—this—”
“This is how you’re going to cum. And no cleaning yourself up after.”
He remained standing behind me but pulled me back against him with a hand that snaked around my neck and steered me by my chin. Like that, he pinned me, and with his other hand, he started touching, first through the fabric, but soon after, he pushed into my trousers.
“Your hand is too rough, stop this,” I said, even as he rubbed a string of drool that had escaped me all over my lips.
“You can cum now, sweetie. You have my permission to cum, oh highborn master mine.”
It was a mark of sweetest shame to know I did as soon as the words left his mouth. My body was too used to him and his lovely ruffian ways, his simple, street-smart ways, and the ease with which he made use of my weakness should not have been permitted any man.
But Conrad, my Conrad, was not just any man.
“Shit,” he said, crude as ever. “Looks like you’re in the zone here.”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t think I’ll carry you around like this whenever you fucking please. Hey, I’m sitting you down in your chair, and if anyone asks, tell them your ‘computer machine’ put a spell on you or whatever.”
“Computer machine, hah. My secretary made one of the evil clicky boxes go away.”
He snorted. “Bet that creepy IT thing was delighted it didn’t have to come out into the light.”
“Cretin. Don’t insult my staff.”
“They like being creepy, and they asked me if I was staff, student, or food.”
“Whatcha tell them?” I asked, the embarrassment of my slurring grand, but not grand enough to have much of an effect on my overall mood and the satisfaction that settled throughout my well-used body.
“Told them I wasn’t any of those things but the one eating the principal.”
“Headmaster.”
“You’re a fucking villain in Armani, sweetie. Now shut up and try to look like you work here.”
It was something of a task but made much easier when Conrad took a moment to retie my cravat and make sure my hair wasn’t in total disarray. Ah, I loved him fussing almost as much as him making love to me and rushing to my side whenever I called.
twenty-seven
Slowly but surely, October had come around. We hardly noticed, given we were both busy and also so happy. Keeping track of the passage of time had become insignificant ever since Leo, the fountain of our happiness.
“Do I really have to wipe the floor? My hands always get dry,” one of the young werewolves, Adam, said to us in the yoga studio. He stood next to the orchid display our boss had created, the pale purple orchid pot matching the purple and teal interior of the studio. Adam was holding up the bucket and ecofriendly cleaner we had told him to use.
The other wolfling, Joyce, was helping Leo clean up after a teachers’ conference that had been held in order to prepare for the fall semester, and we had to tell her off when she was casually opening the bottle of cream liqueur one of the teachers had brought and left there.
“Use lotion,” we told the wolfling at the yoga studio while confiscating the liqueur from the other one, who tried telling us that she’d just wanted to sniff it for research purposes.
