Bliss by Lisa Henry & Heidi Belleau

Author:Lisa Henry & Heidi Belleau [Henry, Lisa & Belleau, Heidi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626491380
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2014-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

Tate woke up to hear Rory opening and closing the cupboard doors in the living room. Tate hauled himself out of bed quickly, squinting at the tiny clock beside his narrow bed. It was just past midnight. He tugged his pants low on his hips—Rory was still not comfortable with his nudity but that didn’t mean Tate couldn’t tease him with the hint of it—and shuffled out to the living room.

He stifled a yawn. “Rory? What are you doing?”

Rory turned. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No.” A lie was only bad if it hurt his master. “I was waiting for you. What are you looking for?”

“Your paperwork.”

A bolt of anxiety shot through Tate. “Why?”

Rory sighed. He shut the cupboard. “I saw Aaron tonight.”

Poor kid. Except to think that was . . . was wrong. Because if Tate was happy now, then so was Aaron. And at least Aaron had a master who knew how to treat him right. Keep him on his knees. Make him beg. Make him worship his master. Tate’s cock hardened just thinking about it. All sense of wrongness vanished. “He looked happy?” he asked, refusing to acknowledge there was even an alternative. Because there wasn’t.

Rory’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah.”

“Well, then, that’s good. How about I take you to bed?” He stepped close, pressing his half-formed erection against the back of Rory’s hip. He rubbed the muscles at the base of Rory’s neck. “Hmm?”

“No!” Rory shrugged him off, then spun, grabbing him hard by the shoulders. “It’s not right, Tate. Something’s not right. He says he stole from Lowell so they could be together!”

“He’s a kid,” he said. “Kids do dumb things. It’s kind of . . . kind of romantic. Like a movie. That big gesture right at the end, just before the kiss.”

“It’s not romantic. It’s his freedom!” Rory shook his head. “I don’t know. There was something off about him. They put a chip in you, right? Was it really just to keep you from getting violent?”

No. No. Tate couldn’t talk about this. He might as well stab a kitchen knife into his temple. Even thinking about it caused a blast of static in his head that whited out his vision for a second. It hurt.

“Of course,” Tate said smoothly and licked his lips. Canted his hips too. “Now come to bed. You’re being paranoid. I know a way to relax you.”

“God damn it, Tate!” Rory shouted. “I’m your master, aren’t I? You have to fucking answer me truthfully, right? So fucking answer me! There’s something going on here, isn’t there?”

Master. To hear Rory say the word was intoxicating. Terrifying.

“You’re my master,” Tate echoed. His whole body tingled with desire. “That’s right. You’re my master. And I—” God, what had they been talking about, even? “I am being truthful, Master. Please, let me serve you. Let me take your mind off things.” He lowered himself to his knees, catching the waistband of Rory’s wrinkled trousers and pulling them down with him as he went. Rory’s cock was flaccid but no less delicious looking for it.

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