by R. J. Moray
It fit Ewan’s taste perfectly, and something about that made him nervous. Nate knew him so well. It felt dangerous, and also? Good.
But.
“What is it then if it’s not permanent?” Ewan asked, curling his hands around his thighs to keep them from shaking.
“It’s a training collar. You can wear it to the Club or when you’re feeling subby. And when we play.”
“When does it come off?” Ewan demanded, because Nate had promised not to do this to him, not give him a collar and throw him away like rubbish.
“When you feel less subby, or we’re done playing.”
Ewan shook his head. “But when are you going to take it back?”
“Maybe,” Nate said, leaning his knees up against the side of the bed “when I give you one that is permanent.”
It was like the air went crystal, everything frozen in that moment. Ewan couldn’t look at Nate but he could feel Nate’s eyes on him, a weight that pinned him in place.
“Don’t freak out,” Nate murmured. “I’m just saying. This being temporary might be a good thing.”
Ewan lifted a hand to touch the leather. It was smooth and new, soft-firm under his fingers. “So it’s like one of those promise ring things you lot do? Like a promise that you might one day give me another promise to give me a real ring?”
Nate made an amused sound in his throat. “If I offered you a permanent collar right now, what the fuck would you say?”
“I’d say, ‘You’re out of your bleeding mind’, and then I’d leave.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
When Ewan looked up Nate was smiling softly, his eyes crinkled up in the corners. It was undeniably fond. Ewan didn’t hate it.
“If it’s too much we can put it away for now,” Nate said, but Ewan shook his head violently. “No? You want it?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Then you know what to do.”
Ewan did. He slid off the bed, folding down onto his knees and tucking his hands behind his back. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let it go. When he opened his eyes again he felt like a different person, one who could bend his head and offer his neck without flinching.
So he did. “Sir,” he said.
Going on, the collar was just as heavy as it looked, substantial. Temporary, Nate had said, but important. That was exactly what it was. The snick of the buckle felt final, and when he’d fastened it shut Nate ran his fingers along Ewan’s throat, catching under his chin to force his head up.
“There’s my brat,” he said, his voice warm, promising so many things. “Wanna have some fun?”
“Is it going to hurt?” Ewan demanded, already itching for something sharp to take the edge off his frustrations.
Nate grinned and knotted a hand in his hair, painfully tight. “Yeah. But you can take it, right?”
It was true. From Nate? He could take anything.
So. “Yes, Sir,” he said. “Whatever you say.”
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Hey there,
This is the final part of the miniseries A Collar For His Brat, and what a ride it was! These two mean a lot to me, the way they fit together like pieces of two different puzzles that just snap into place. Once Ewan lets it happen, that is.
I'm very tempted to write a follow up, but I know some people have been eager for this story to wrap up. But, don't worry, if you want to see more of them they will both show up in Season Three of His Boy Next Door, which starts this month! I'm looking forward to showing you what Jack and Channon get up to. Their story is a completely different creature, a much slower burn in some ways (though just as hot in others).
I'm sure you've already joined my mailing list so you'll definitely get a notification when my next book is available.
You can always email me at [email protected]. I eventually get back to everyone, though sometimes it can take a little while.
And sometimes I'm on twitter (@robinmoray) and tumblr (robinmoray.tumblr.com), if you're into that.
See you soon!
❤ Robin
Also by R.J. Moray
Novellas
Finding Elliott
Serials
His Boy Next Door
(Channon Beaumont) series
Episodes 1 - 24
A Collar For His Brat
Parts I - III
As Robin Moray
Bonded to the Alpha series
Bonded to the Alpha
Loyal
Claimed
Mated
Mallory Witches series
Something Wicked
About the Author
I've been writing since I was 12—not professionally, but that was when I started writing seriously. I used to write stories about witches and werewolves, vampires and demons, elves and merfolk and Ancient Gods. So really, nothing much has changed.
I've always enjoyed stories in which people have a lot of Big Emotions, in which they are passionate and tortured (sometimes literally) and where the stakes are life-or-death. I try to tell stories that make you want to reach out and grab the characters and shake them, or hug them, or…well, I'm sure you know.
You can find me online in the following places:
My website robinmoray.com
My author page on Amazon
My author page on Goodreads
My twitter @robinmoray
My Tumblr blog
My email [email protected]
