Her Grace's Stable: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 2

by Joely Sue Burkhart

  “Absolutely not. Cole, that doesn’t even make sense. I freed you a month before you brought Arthur to us.”

  “You’ll never find another magnificent stud like him that can tolerate me too. That’s why you have to get rid of me.”

  The other mistress had hinted that Cole was free, but that didn’t make sense. Lady Blackmyre obviously cared for the man. She held him with such tenderness that it made jealousy creep into Arthur’s heart, despite the shame eating away at him. He’d never intended to take the other man’s place as her pony.

  Let alone take that pony himself.

  “I’m not getting rid of either of you.” That flat, uncompromising tone in her voice brought Arthur’s gaze to her face. Squaring his shoulders, he was determined to take whatever punishment she gave without losing control to either rage or pain-driven fear. He deserved to be horsewhipped for hurting her primary pony, in more ways than one.

  She simply looked up at him without saying a word. Expectation weighed heavily in her eyes, the way she held her shoulders, the firm tightness in her lips. She commanded him to do…what?

  This would be so much easier if I’d simply tell her the truth.

  I’m sorry. Would that be so difficult to say?

  But then he would have surrendered, ultimately and completely. There’d be no hope for him to ever go back to a normal life. He’d drawn a line in the sand and refused to cross it. If he did, he couldn’t call himself a man of his word any longer. He’d have lost the battle entirely.

  A look crept across her face that he didn’t like at all.

  Disappointment. Contempt, even. And then hurt, because he refused to trust her enough to allow her to help him resolve his guilt.

  Shame blanketed him, dragging him down to such depths of despair he wanted to throw his head back and rail at the heavens. Agony, such horrible agony, delivered with a single look. She didn’t need a whip to cut him open. She didn’t need a cage to cripple him. The mistress was severely displeased and it was all he could do not to throw himself on top of Cole in her lap and beg for mercy.

  His knees crumpled and he found himself on the ground beside them. He couldn’t speak, even if he’d wanted to break that promise to himself. His throat ached and his stomach quivered as though he’d caught camp fever. He hung his head and tried to make a sound to express all the regret and guilt he carried that she would be able to interpret.

  A wretched groan came out of his throat, halfway between a bleat and a sob.

  Someone’s hand cupped his cheek, and it wasn’t hers. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Arthur.”

  He squeezed his eyes tighter, fighting to keep the words bubbling up inside. I’m so sorry, Cole. Forgive me, Mistress, please. Please.

  “You didn’t hurt me,” Cole whispered, daring a stroke of his thumb on Arthur’s cheek. “Until you regretted taking me.”

  Arthur leaned into the other man’s caress, making sure Cole recognized that he wasn’t pulling away. From the beginning, he’d instinctively trusted the man’s gentle touch. He hadn’t been repulsed by Cole’s tender care. Without his help, Arthur would surely have lost his manhood completely to infection and gangrene.

  His face twisted with self-recrimination. And I repaid him by…

  “Oh for pity’s sake, why are you so guilty?” Exasperated, Cole shoved him in the chest, making Arthur’s eyes fly open. “I finally receive the experience I’ve been aching for with a man, and you’re moaning and groaning like you raped me. Do you honestly think you took me against my will?”

  Lady Blackmyre made a small sound of shock or amusement, drawing his reluctant gaze to her. At least the disappointment had been wiped from her face, but his refusal to speak still darkened her eyes like an old, painful bruise. “My poor, rampant stallion, no wonder you’ve been torn up with guilt.”

  “I wanted wild and out of control, Arthur.” The slumberous timbre of Cole’s voice drew his gaze back to the other man. “I wanted you. Hard, violent, raw. Please don’t regret the most exhilarating dream come true in my entire life.”

  Arthur stared at him and hoped his mouth wasn’t hanging open with shock. He forced himself to replay those early days of recovery. Every time he’d jerked awake, rising up to fight off his abusers, Cole had been at his bedside with a quiet whisper and gentle touch. Lust had hammered him constantly, demanding relief, and it’d been strangely natural to drag the man down into his bed and roll him beneath him.

  Cole reached back and wrapped his arm around my head, holding me close the whole time. Even when he buried his face in the pillow to stifle his screams.

  “If I’d ever suspected that you’d misunderstood my compliance that night, I would have corrected you immediately. I thought you merely regretted the night altogether and tried to spare you any shame or upset at bringing up an uncomfortable subject.”

  Seemingly unruffled, the cool mistress stood and brushed at the dirt smeared on her trousers. “You need to make amends, Arthur. My poor little pony has been agonizing over your rejection for days.”

  Arthur didn’t miss the tightness lingering in her mouth. He might be able to apologize easily to the other man, but the mistress wouldn’t soon forget that he still withheld the most basic communication from her. At some point, she would simply turn him away.

  Which is what I want, isn’t it? I don’t want to become her…

  Stallion?

  I already am.

  Her lover?

  Her slave.

  He looked into Cole’s eyes and couldn’t call him a slave. Devoted, yes, compliant and submissive in every way a man could ever surrender to another. No one would ever call Cole a slave. Not when she took such care of him. In fact, she’d freed him, despite his obvious longing to belong to her completely.

  “I’m waiting,” she reminded in a tone that didn’t contain much patience.

  What could he do that would be accepted as amends that didn’t involve speech? While relieved that Cole didn’t harbor any horror or fear at their encounter, Arthur wasn’t entirely ready to admit that he’d take the man again. Not until he understood fully what Lady Blackmyre intended. Cole was hers, whether she claimed to have freed him or not. For now, Arthur was hers too, though he could leave whenever he wished.

  What kind of future could he have in a world dominated by women? If his men ever found out he’d fucked another man, would they ever follow his commands again? Did any of it matter if he had to lie about who and what he really was?

  Cole didn’t say anything to give him any direction. No, a man like him wouldn’t ever make any demands. He wasn’t a slave, yet he’d always prefer his partner to grasp his reins in a firm hand, whether man or woman.

  Holding his breath, Arthur leaned toward the man, watching him carefully for any hint of withdrawal or reluctance. Cole’s gaze dropped to his mouth, confirming what Arthur ought to do. After taking the man so roughly, he owed some small tenderness. Even if I’ve never kissed another man.

  Lightly, he rubbed his lips against Cole’s. His lips were just as soft as Lady Blackmyre’s. His breath as warm, as sweet. Shaken, Arthur lifted his head, terribly afraid the tips of his ears had burst into flame.

  Cole’s eyes had gone soft and dreamy. Laughing, he traced Arthur’s lips with the tip of his index finger. “You’re forgiven.”

  “For future reference,” Lady Blackmyre said as she fisted her hand in Cole’s hair and jerked him around and up to his knees, “he prefers to be kissed like this.”

  Cole melted against her, groaning deep in his throat. She thrust her tongue into his welcoming mouth, pressing her lips so hard against his that she smashed his lips against his teeth. A tumult of emotions thundered through her. Need, because it’d been so long since she’d touched him sexually. Lust, because she’d loved watching him with Arthur, seeing the fragile new bloom of his hopes and dreams coming to fruition. Even jealousy, because while she found the men’s interaction arousing, she still wanted Cole as her very own.

 
; But that serves only my needs, not his. I have no right to constrain him like that, especially when I can’t promise him the future.

  Relenting her savage attack, she pulled back enough to drop a gentle kiss on his nose and helped him to his feet, granted, by his hair. “Come along, boys. We have to correct this fiasco with a positive experience for everyone. Arthur, if you think you can keep from molesting Cole while he trots around the ring, I’ll run you through your paces together.”

  She probably shouldn’t tease the man so, especially since he’d been so sincerely horrified at the thought of forcing or hurting Cole in any way, but she’d nearly reached the end of her rope. If she could prod him into a response, even insult or anger, she’d take it. She could diffuse his anger and salve his pride, but she couldn’t do anything at all if he continued to withhold the most basic of communication from her.

  Grimly silent, Arthur shot a dark look at her that made her arch a brow. He’ll regret such disrespect when I make him watch me give Cole his tail.

  “Please, do molest me,” Cole purred to them both, drawing a sound from the other man that sounded remarkably like desperation.

  She picked up the destroyed harness and dropped it onto the table, watching the way they interacted out of the corner of her eye. Now that Cole was assured of a possibility with Arthur, he turned that mischievous nature into full-blown flirting. Instead of walking in her wake, he pranced and arched his neck, snorting out his breath to keep drawing Arthur’s attention toward him. The poor man kept looking and then averting his gaze when he remembered Cole was naked, his eyes wider and wider each time.

  It would have been amusing if either of them remembered that their mistress waited.

  She picked up Cole’s tail and ran the strands through her fingers, silently waiting. Deliberately, she remained casual, even hopping up to sit on the edge of the table as though she didn’t care how long they took to obey. Cole usually had an uncanny sixth sense, especially when she turned on her full will. He didn’t have to see her to know she wanted something.

  This time, she didn’t want to activate his extrasensory abilities. She simply waited, watching, letting piece by piece of her heart crack and fall away. I’m losing him. I’m losing them both, even if Arthur has never been fully mine.

  It was Arthur who started guiltily and snapped into pony attention. He actually paled when he saw what she held and quickly averted his gaze.

  Cole had the grace to hang his head and look abashed at how long he must have kept her waiting. He rushed to stand before her, even demurely turning away from her to give her easy access to his bum, while making sure that he didn’t block her line of vision to the other man.

  “It’s about time,” she drawled out, lightly scratching her nails along his ribcage. “I was starting to think you don’t need a mistress at all.”

  “Forgive me, Mistress. I need you above everything.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” She leaned close against Cole’s back, but it was Arthur she stared at over his shoulder. “Seems like you’ve got everything you want in that big stud snorting and pawing the ground over there.”

  “No,” Cole gasped out. “He can’t make me a pony like you can, Mistress.”

  She picked up the vial of oil and poured a good portion into her hand. Casually, she took her time slicking the plug, rolling it in her palms like she was working a real cock. “He didn’t fill you up like my little toy, pet? He didn’t mount you from behind like the pony you are?”

  Arthur was so tense he vibrated, his shoulders and neck corded with strain. She couldn’t tell if he was repulsed or so violently aroused that he would shove the other man down and take him right there on the ground before her. Or maybe it was just the tail he wanted, because he was mesmerized by her fingers stroking and sliding over the plug.

  If he’s so entranced by the thought, perhaps I can use the lure of his own tail to finally get him to speak to me by begging for it.

  She took her time, making them both wait until Cole answered her. It was a difficult answer to give. Perhaps Arthur wasn’t as hung as she believed from that first glimpse at the stable, but she guessed Cole had been more than happy with the man’s size. But his honesty might very well offend her.

  Even I don’t know what answer I really want him to give. Truth? Or a lie to salve my own pride?

  “He stuffed me to the brim, Mistress,” Cole finally said, sparing a glance over his shoulder to watch her reaction with not a small amount of trepidation. “I thought he was going to split me open and I loved every minute of it. But it’s your tail that completes me the most. Without you, without your tail, I’m just a man who likes to be used as roughly as possible by others. I’m your pony and always will be.”

  Even so aroused that pain throbbed in his groin, Arthur had enough blood left in his skull to suspect that she was hurt or angry, or both. If she didn’t want to share her pony, then why did she keep taunting them both with innuendo? Not to mention this show of dominance as she played with Cole.

  For it was a reminder of her dominance. She’d taken a position on top of the table that put her higher despite her shorter height. At Cole’s back, threatening his tender hole with a plug that, while not as large as Arthur’s cock, would surely not be an easy insertion. She rubbed the plug against Cole, sliding it just barely inside him, but she refused to sink it deeply.

  Panting, Cole was sweating in his effort not to push himself back and end the torment.

  Licking his ear, Lady Blackmyre whispered—but ensured she kept her volume loud enough for Arthur to hear. “Did you come when he was inside you, pet?”

  “Yes,” Cole whimpered. “Forgive me.”

  “I gave you permission to stay with him, did I not?”

  “Yes, Mistress, but you didn’t give me permission to enjoy it.”

  Arthur shuddered, fighting back his own arousal. He knew this kind of game all too well. The schoolmistress had refused to let him come at all whether he was in her presence or not. At first, he’d tried to comply with that order because he’d sincerely wanted to learn and win her approval. But when it became clear she intended to break him with his own body’s natural desire, he’d taken every opportunity to relieve himself.

  Resulting in the cage of agony that kept him from even thinking about release.

  “I’ve never refused you pleasure, Cole.”

  Her words broke through the darkness crowding back into Arthur’s mind. Surprised, he watched as she wrapped her hand around Cole’s cock and thrust the plug smoothly but deeply into his body.

  At her touch, he exploded, his hips jerking helplessly. Somehow he remained on his feet, probably because she held him upright, even hugging him with her thighs. The sight of her against the man’s back, her legs wrapped around him as he bucked in release, that tail flowing to the ground…

  God, she’s riding him. She’s riding her pony and he loves it.

  She smoothed her hands over Cole’s flanks and chest, waiting until his breathing calmed. Whispering in his ear—a true whisper now, not meant for Arthur no matter how hard he strained to overhear—she ran her fingers through that damned tail and gave a small tug. Cole jumped up on his toes, making her laugh softly.

  “Do you think you can run for me now, pet?”

  Cole gave a decidedly horsey snort and leaped into action.

  She turned to Arthur and arched a brow at him. “Do you need release, Arthur? I’m happy to oblige. Or perhaps you’d rather have Cole relieve you.”

  Yes, yes, please, he babbled inside his head, wishing he dared jerk his trousers open and invite that feminine hand to squeeze him into release. Perhaps with a little help from her pony’s mouth.

  A smile flickered on her lips but it wasn’t amusement. This was too hard, too fierce. She knew very well how close he was to exploding, but she did nothing without his request. As she’d promised from the very beginning.

  “No? Very well, then. I’m quite impressed with your forbearance, Arth
ur. To your paces then.”

  She’s determined to break me.

  Even jogging was painful. There just wasn’t room in his pants. He started to wonder if she’d deliberately sized him small, knowing what kind of agony she’d end up putting him through.

  When she flicked the whip at his buttocks in a light encouragement to match his pace with the other pony’s, it was remarkably difficult to remember why it was important he not surrender the war.

  Chapter Eleven

  Arthur would never tire of seeing Lady Blackmyre dressed for riding, even if she truly meant to take out a horse instead of him. She strode down the aisle dressed in a pristine coat and breeches, her military experience evident in the shining brass buttons and gleaming Hessians. The confident, ringing tread of her boots sent his heart into a frantic gallop.

  Grateful she hadn’t seen him, he leaned against the wall and concentrated on slowing his breathing. His hands trembled, his palms damp, and dear Lord above, if he didn’t get some relief soon, he’d wish he’d lost his manhood in that wretched cage they’d used at the auction house. Easing the need himself wasn’t the same as having the mistress demand his release.

  I could always go to Cole…

  He dropped his head back against the wall and cursed. Lady Blackmyre and her darling pony had him tied up in knots. Even that was an uncomfortable realization. It led his mind to imagining exactly what kind of knots his limbs would make with hers. Or his. Or both…

  “Cole!”

  Her cry echoed with such urgency and fear that Arthur didn’t hesitate a moment. He raced toward her, meeting Cole at the door to Caesar’s stall.

  The big charger was stretched out in the straw, his white coat dull. He already looked thinner, as though a fierce fever had ravaged his once-powerful body. Where a few days ago, Arthur wouldn’t have stepped inside that stall without some kind of weapon to discourage the big beast, now there was no need. By the sound of the horse’s labored breathing, there might never be such a worry again.