Serving Him

by L. M. Somerton

  “Okay, sounds good. After all the canoodling you two did in the back of the car, I have to go clean the leather upholstery.”

  “Canoodle? Were you born in the Victorian era? Who uses words like that?”

  “My gran does.” Rayne grinned. “She’d even scare the pants off Mr. Wilder.”

  “Hey! Nobody sees him with his pants off except me!”

  “Who’s taking their pants off?” Lorcan appeared from Luke’s office. Rayne scuttled for the door. “Is our chauffeur making improper suggestions to you? I’m sure I could persuade Mr. Redding to give him a well-deserved whipping.”

  “I wouldn’t take much persuading,” Luke shouted from inside his office. “He’s well overdue some discipline.”

  Rowan giggled. “He was telling me about his gran, Sir. Are you planning on going out tomorrow? I promised to let him know.”

  “After the last few days, I think we deserve some quiet time here. I’ve been neglecting your needs.”

  “You’d never neglect me, Sir.”

  “Go on, go after him.”

  Rowan dashed to the door, calling after Rayne to let him know that he could relax and clean the car at his leisure. He turned to find Lorcan staring at him, hands on his hips.

  “You’re like a kid on a sugar high,” he said.

  Rowan went to his knees in front of him.

  “I’m sorry, Sir. The last few days have been so much fun but I have all this information jostling for space in my head. It’s hard to calm down and think. The places we visited were all so grand, it was a glimpse into another world and I think I’m a bit scared of it all.” He was talking too much and subsided into silence.

  “Go on.”

  Rowan raised his eyes. Lorcan seemed genuinely interested.

  “Working at the hotel, I got to meet lots of very wealthy people. A few were awful, some were perfectly nice. But… They never saw me as a person. I was there to provide a service and they never looked past that. I’m not saying they should have. Good service should be invisible. But it felt like there was a barrier, unspoken, unseen but impenetrable between their world and mine. Viewing those houses over the last few days felt like sneaking out of bounds. It was exciting, but not quite real.”

  “You would bring grace and care to any of those grand houses,” Lorcan said. “The question is not whether you are worthy of them but whether they deserve you. Whether I deserve you.”

  He took Rowan’s hand, bringing him to his feet. “Let’s go and persuade Tor and his minions to rustle up a late afternoon tea for us. I think we will forgo dinner so that I can spend some time calming you down. So point me in the direction of the kitchen, it’s about time I put in a personal appearance.”

  When they reached the kitchen, they found Tor delivering a lesson to Benjy and Frank. Rowan wasn’t sure what he was teaching them, but the smells emanating from the stove were delicious. Tor caught sight of him hovering in the doorway, then spotted Lorcan. He wiped his hands on a cloth before strolling across to them.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Wilder. Have you come for a cooking lesson?”

  “I’d much rather eat the food you and the boys prepare,” Lorcan said. “I’m afraid I’ve been known to burn water.”

  Benjy and Frank both giggled until Tor glared at them and they both found interesting things to stare at on the floor.

  “If it’s not inconvenient, would you be able to manage a few sandwiches and a slice of cake? I have a hankering for an English afternoon tea, but we can wait if you’re in the middle of something,” Lorcan said.

  “Not at all. In fact, your timing is perfect. I’ve been teaching the boys how to make Cullen skink and it needs to simmer for a while, so we can take a break. Where would you like to eat?”

  “If we eat in the breakroom, Tor and the boys could join us. It would be fun,” Rowan whispered in Lorcan’s ear.

  “If it’s okay with you, Tor, Rowan has suggested we eat here, together. An afternoon tea party, if you like.”

  Tor chuckled. “You might live to regret this. When these three get together, they are just going to gossip about us.”

  “I’ll risk it. It’s good for Rowan to have company other than me and we haven’t had the chance to talk very much yet either.”

  “In that case, go on through to the breakroom. The boys both made cakes this morning, practicing some new recipes, so you and Rowan can be our guinea pigs. I’ll whip up some sandwiches and be right through. Frank, make a pot of tea. Benjy, set the table.”

  Rowan took Lorcan through to the breakroom while a scurry of activity kicked off in the kitchen.

  “Thank you for doing this.” He eyed the hard floor, wondering if Lorcan would want him to kneel.

  “Sit at the table, Rowan. I know you want to talk to your friends and you can’t do that if you’re kneeling next to me. There will be plenty of time for you to get on your knees later, I promise.” He winked, and Rowan’s face warmed as he caught the meaning behind Lorcan’s words.

  Relieved, Rowan took a seat on one side of the table. It wasn’t long before the others joined them in a clatter of crockery and excited chatter. Tor produced smoked salmon sandwiches and a plate of cheese scones, still warm from the oven. Rowan’s mouth watered and it only got worse when Frank and Benjy brought through the cakes they had baked.

  Rowan chatted to Frank and Benjy, describing his house-hunting adventures, while Lorcan spoke quietly with Tor. Every now and again Rowan glanced Lorcan’s way, checking that he was enjoying himself. He seemed quite content.

  After consuming several sandwiches and a scone, there was no way Rowan could choose between Frank’s chocolate creation and Benjy’s layered lemon fondant sponge. He ended up having a piece of each, as did Lorcan. Tor excused his double helping as a taste test and it was fun to watch Benjy and Frank on the edge of their seats as they awaited his verdict.

  “Both excellent,” Tor declared. “I’ll make decent chefs out of the pair of you yet.”

  “What about you, Mr. Wilder? Do you have a favorite?” Benjy asked, batting his lashes.

  Rowan laughed at his shameless antics.

  “I couldn’t possibly choose between them.” Lorcan mouthed ‘help me’ at Rowan.

  “I loved them both too,” Rowan said. “But I think I need a nap. All this wonderful food has made me drowsy.” He leaned toward Lorcan, whose eyes flashed.

  “Time to leave, I think. Thank you, Tor, for the wonderful meal. I won’t require dinner tonight.”

  Tor gave him a conspiratorial smile. “Just call if you need a late-night snack. Benjy is on duty this evening and will be glad to help.”

  Lorcan put his arm around Rowan’s shoulders and guided him from the room.

  “Thank you! My diplomatic skills were about to be tested to the limit.”

  “I imagine Tor will analyze both those cakes within an inch of their lives now we’re gone. He’s a perfectionist and a great teacher.”

  “And now you have sugar inside you, you’re even more in need of some calm. With all the visiting we’ve been doing, I’ve not been taking care of you properly.”

  “Is there time for me to go take a shower, Sir?”

  “Sure. It’ll give me a chance to prepare. You have an hour to get ready for me. Come to the Blue Room and wear something I’ll appreciate.”

  “Yes, Sir. Did you have anything specific in mind?”

  “Less than you’re wearing now. Exactly what that is, I’ll leave to you. Surprise me. You now have fifty-nine minutes.”

  Rowan ran to his room, eager to prepare. Visiting properties in the Cotswolds had been fun but he was ready for some one-on-one attention from his Dom.

  * * * *

  Lorcan glanced at his watch. There were still ten minutes until Rowan was due to return and Lorcan was getting impatient. A quick call to Luke Redding had secured a collection of fat pillar candles that now glimmered around the room. Luke had also agreed to the temporary disabling of the room’s smoke detector on the un
derstanding that Lorcan would be flayed alive if he didn’t re-arm it the instant the scene was done. Lorcan had showered then changed into an outfit that he knew would make Rowan’s cock stand to attention. Supple leather pants hung so low on his hips that if he bent over, his ass would be on display. He’d opted to forgo a shirt in favor of a black suede vest, or waistcoat as Rowan would call it. He’d debated over boots but decided to go barefoot because what he had planned involved climbing on the bed. Checking the equipment he’d selected, Lorcan was surprised at how nervous he felt. Since he’d suggested to Rowan that their relationship might continue, his feelings had deepened, bringing new emotions into play whenever they were together.

  Over the last few days he’d seen a different side to Rowan, who had revealed himself to be an intelligent, perceptive young man, full of curiosity and questions. Protecting him from the harsh world Lorcan knew had become paramount. Lorcan didn’t want anything to affect Rowan’s innocent enthusiasm. He felt the weight of responsibility for keeping Rowan safe and providing for his needs as a man as well as a submissive. Rowan hadn’t yet given him a definitive answer as to whether he would leave The Retreat to become Lorcan’s assistant and Lorcan had noticed glimmers of doubt in his eyes. He guessed he was conflicted about letting Carey Hoffman down and nervous about stepping into the unknown with a man he’d only met a few weeks before. It was a huge step to take and Lorcan wished he could give Rowan more time to make his decision, but he only had a few days left of his stay and didn’t want to leave without him. He’d just have to give him all the reassurance he could. Rowan had to make his own choice in his own time, and Lorcan hoped that the scene he had planned for the evening would help clear Rowan’s mind.

  He fingered the complex arrangement of leather straps lying across the bed where he had lowered the sling usually concealed in the bed’s canopy. Once Rowan was safely restrained there was a mechanism that would automatically raise him above the mattress. Lorcan would have access to his body from both sides and one end. He planned to arrange him in a way that gave him a sense of weightlessness in suspension. If he could make Rowan focus on his body rather than the jumble of thoughts in his head, it might calm his worries and help him decide his future. Of course, it would also give Lorcan the satisfaction of having complete control and the gift of Rowan’s trust. He’d put on a cock ring because the preparations alone had made him hard. He wanted to be able to concentrate on coaxing Rowan to fly rather than his own basic urges.

  A soft tap at the door told him that Rowan had finally arrived. Lorcan opened it to let him in, eager to see his reaction to the candlelit room. Rowan’s eyes widened as he took in the scene. Lorcan imagined his own expression wasn’t that different when he saw what Rowan was wearing. The sheer white silk thong barely covered his package, the fabric so flimsy the slightest tug would rip it free. Lorcan resolved to do just that as soon as he had Rowan where he wanted him.

  “This is beautiful, Sir. I love candlelight.”

  Rowan sank to his knees. He clasped his hands behind his back and lowered his head. Lorcan took a few deep breaths. Part of him wanted to take Rowan right there on the floor. He was temptation packaged in blond hair, blue eyes and a sleek body. But a quick fuck wasn’t what Rowan needed right then and every overprotective bone in Lorcan’s body vibrated with the need to take care of him.

  “This evening I’m going to clear your mind of all the noise. You don’t have to think about anything except the pleasure you give me through your submission.” He brushed Rowan’s cheek with the back of one finger, eliciting a sweet whimper. “You can stand.” Rowan came to his feet, eyes still downcast. Lorcan indulged himself by stroking smooth, warm skin. He pulled Rowan’s thong down to rest beneath his balls, displaying them and his stiff cock.

  “So hard for me.” He took Rowan’s shaft in a loose grip. Heat soaked into his palm. “You don’t have permission to come. I’ll let you know when it pleases me to give you release.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Rowan whispered.

  Lorcan stepped away. “I want you to lie on the bed. Have you ever used a sling before?”

  Rowan shook his head. “I’ve seen one used a few times, but I’ve never been in one myself.” He levered himself onto the bed, wriggling into position so that the largest section of leather lay beneath his back and shoulders.

  “I’m going to blindfold you. I want your senses focused on my touch and being deprived of sight will help. I’m not going to use earplugs because it’s quiet enough in here and I’m selfish enough to want to hear the sounds you make, so no gag.” Lorcan adjusted the positions of some of the straps. “I’m not going to talk very much but I’ll be here. I won’t leave you.”

  Rowan blinked, his eyes huge. “I trust you, Sir.”

  Lorcan’s throat tightened and he had to turn away. He fetched the blindfold, fastening it around Rowan’s head. Covering Rowan’s eyes helped Lorcan concentrate, something he found hard to do when Rowan’s gaze sliced through every layer of his emotional armor. He spent the next ten minutes securing Rowan’s limbs in straps designed to support his weight and reduce the strain on his muscles. He checked every fastening carefully to ensure that nothing would pinch or rub. The sling was designed in such a way that Rowan’s legs would be held apart, but bent at the knees. His arms would rest at his sides, strapped close so that he would not be able to move them. Supports beneath his neck and head would ensure he couldn’t hurt himself if he thrashed around.

  Lorcan made sure to touch Rowan often, reassuring him of his presence. When he pressed the button to start the automatic lift, he didn’t give Rowan any warning. He didn’t want to raise him too far, just enough that he would feel weightless. He locked the hoist when Rowan was around eighteen inches above the mattress then moved around him, checking all the straps again. Rowan’s breathing, which had initially sped up, calmed. He gave a soft sigh.

  Lorcan knew that whatever happened between them in the future, he would remember this moment always. Rowan’s absolute trust that Lorcan would take care of him, his utter faith that he wouldn’t be hurt, brought tears to Lorcan’s eyes. He rubbed the back of his hand across them, brushing away the moisture. He hadn’t cried in many years, maintaining rigid control over his emotions. Rowan had turned Lorcan’s world inside out by handing him power over his body, though he knew only too well that it was really Rowan who had the power over him.

  He put a leather strap around the base of Rowan’s balls, cinching it tight, then tore the skimpy thong from his body. He fondled Rowan’s cock until he moaned.

  “That’s it, boy. Let go.”

  Lorcan slipped his hand into a soft, fur glove. He stroked Rowan’s body from shoulder to thigh, then across his abs to brush his nipples. Rowan shivered, humming his pleasure. Lorcan kept the pressure light but continuous, touching every part of Rowan’s frame but avoiding his cock. When all traces of tension had disappeared from Rowan’s muscles, Lorcan swapped the glove for a Wartenberg wheel. He pressed it into his palm to judge how much pressure he should use, surprised at the sting. He ran the instrument across the sole of Rowan’s foot. Rowan’s entire body jerked in his restraints, setting the sling in motion. Lorcan smiled and continued to run the vicious tool across Rowan’s skin, leaving a trail of tiny red dots in its wake. When Lorcan tracked the wheel across his nipples a few times, Rowan’s breath sped up and his hands clenched into fists. Lorcan pressed a little harder, though not enough to break skin, taking the wheel close to Rowan’s groin before tracking down the inside of his thigh.

  It was time to swap toys again so Lorcan exchanged the pinwheel for a length of silk. He dragged it across Rowan’s belly then let it drift over his erection, ghosting over the head of his dick. Rowan strained against the straps holding him in place as if the touch of silk was more painful than the metal spikes which had preceded it. Lorcan looped the silk around Rowan’s cock, tying it loosely so that he could brush it up and down and provide more friction.

  “Please…”

&nb
sp; “Something to say, Rowan?”

  “I…”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  Lorcan exchanged the silk for a candle with liquid wax pooled in the well around its wick. He blew out the flame then, holding the candle high enough above Rowan’s body that the wax would cool on its descent, he allowed two drops to fall on Rowan’s belly where they immediately solidified into flat white discs. Rowan yelped, yanking hard on his wrist restraints. Lorcan trailed drops of wax up his abdomen, letting the final two splash on each nipple in turn. This time Rowan screamed.

  Lorcan put the candle back, re-lighting it with a match, knowing that Rowan would hear the scrape.

  “Don’t want to run out of wax, do we?” Lorcan grinned. Even though Rowan couldn’t see him, he would detect the mischief in his voice.

  “You’re very cruel, Sir.” Rowan didn’t sound unhappy about it.

  “I can be.” Lorcan fetched the ice bucket, placing it on the bed within easy reach. Using his nail, he lifted the wax discs adhered to Rowan’s skin, then he took an ice cube and rubbed it over the red patches. Rowan gasped, but soon settled. Lorcan repeated the process for each piece of wax, leaving Rowan’s nipples until last. He applied ice to both sides at the same time, soothing the small hurts he had created. Rowan wriggled as much as he was able until Lorcan stilled the sling. He ran a cube of ice from Rowan’s chest across his stomach, following a pinwheel track to his groin where he let the remains of the ice melt. He wrapped his cold hand around Rowan’s balls, giving them a gentle squeeze.

  “Sir!”

  “You’re so hot in my hand. So eager. But you have to wait a while longer because I’m not done with you yet.”

  Rowan moaned, the sound sweet to Lorcan’s ears. He took the ice away and dried his hands on a towel. His fingers were still chilled so when he pushed them inside his pants to caress his own aching cock, the cold was a shock. Just what he needed. He was glad Rowan wasn’t able to see his expression because he was probably doing a fair impression of Munch’s painting, The Scream. Once he’d recovered, he dried Rowan’s skin with care then collected the vibrating plug he had chosen. It was thick and heavy, made from steel. He applied a layer of lube then pressed it to Rowan’s grasping hole. It slid home easily, not big enough to cause Rowan any discomfort. Lorcan put the control on a low setting before turning it on. He could just hear a whirr as the toy vibrated inside Rowan’s body. Rowan sank his teeth into his lower lip, bucking his hips.