Chapter Six

 

 

 

Lorcan sat back in his well-padded chair and contemplated his situation. He had just eaten three courses of the most amazing food, served by a young man in kitchen whites who was deferential without being obsequious. Now, he sipped wine from a lead crystal goblet and if he had been more of a wine snob he would have come up with an array of superlatives to describe the flavors bursting over his tongue. He had left the choice of wine to the chef, letting him know that he preferred lighter vintages but that otherwise he was happy to submit to his guidance. It had been the right decision because the Merlot had perfectly complemented the food. The dining table was set in a room that Rowan, during a tour of the house, had called the snug. Lorcan thought it was an apt name for the cozy, wood-paneled space. One wall was lined with bookcases while on another a mullioned window gave a view of the extensive grounds. In the distance, the forest canopy shifted in the wind, forming a protective boundary around the property.

“The meal was absolutely delicious,” Lorcan said, addressing Rowan who knelt on the floor next to him. “I’d like to give my compliments to the chef. Would you fetch him for me please, Rowan? His name’s Tor, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir.” Rowan rose from his knees. It was something he seemed able to do without his usual clumsiness. He left the room and for a while the only sound came from classical music playing over a concealed speaker system. Lorcan allowed his eyes to drift shut. He hadn’t had enough sleep earlier in the day and now jet lag was sinking its soporific talons into his body. If he was tired enough then perhaps his sleep wouldn’t be interrupted by more nightmares. He heard the slightest creak from the door and opened his eyes. Rowan came in first, followed by a tall blond dressed in a chef’s uniform. He had a similar military bearing to Luke Redding, walking almost as if he were on parade.

Lorcan got to his feet, moving around the table to approach Tor. He held out his hand. “I apologize for pulling you away from your work, Tor, but I had to let you know how much I enjoyed that meal. My stay here is going to be a considerable pleasure if the dishes you serve are always of this standard.”

Tor shook his hand, his grip firm but not crushing, as if he had nothing to prove.

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Wilder. I love my job. However, I can’t take all the credit—I have two very able assistants who make my life easy.”

“I’d ask you to join me for a drink, but I’m afraid I’m not very good company tonight. Jet lag is kicking my butt. But another night, perhaps?”

“If it gives me an excuse to get out of the washing up, it will be my pleasure.” Tor’s eyes twinkled. Lorcan couldn’t picture him up to his elbows in soapy water but he seemed like the kind of man who would lead by example. It wouldn’t surprise Lorcan if he did take his turn with more menial tasks.

“Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you in the kitchen?” Lorcan asked.

“Timing is the main thing,” Tor replied. “It would be helpful if Rowan could give me a list of mealtimes each evening for the next day, approximate is fine, and let me know where you’d prefer to be served. I can give him the menus for the day if you’d like to see them, that’s if you’re happy for me to pick them.”

“I’m sure I can accommodate you with the timing plans. I have no intention of interfering in your menu choices. There are very few things I won’t eat and you have a list of those. As Rowan will usually be dining with me, I assume you’re aware of his dislikes too?”

“Yes, I have details for all the staff, so that won’t be a problem and thank you for trusting me with menu selection. It’s one of the things I most enjoy about my job. But of course, if there’s anything you are particularly craving then let me know.”

“I’ll no doubt get a hankering for a hotdog at some point.” Lorcan laughed. “But don’t let me succumb. I’m not here to eat junk food.”

“Then I’ll leave you to get a good night’s rest. Send Rowan to the kitchen later. I’ll still be there.” Tor departed and Lorcan remained standing. He ruffled Rowan’s hair.

“Time for bed, I think.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I expect you’re tired too, Rowan. It’s been a long day for you.”

“I’m fine, Sir. Though the food has made me a little drowsy, I have to admit.”

Lorcan led the way back upstairs to the Blue Room, which he now considered his room. Rowan turned down the bed.

“Would you like me to run you a bath, Sir?”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Lorcan said. “I don’t often have the time for more than a quick shower.”

Rowan went into the bathroom and Lorcan listened to the rush of running water. A light citrus scent wafted through the door on a cloud of steam. He stripped out of his clothes, dumping everything on the bed apart from his boots. Rowan would know what to do with it all. He padded through to the en suite, where Rowan knelt next to the tub, swishing his hand through the water to test its temperature.

“I think this is perfect, Sir.”

Lorcan stepped into the water, sinking down until it covered him to the neck. The heat soaked into his muscles. He slid lower until he was submerged, then surfaced shaking droplets from his hair.

“It would be more perfect, if you were in here with me, Rowan.”

“Oh…”

Rowan had a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression, but removed his trousers—all he was wearing—without hesitation. The bath was plenty big enough for two people. He stepped in, straddling Lorcan’s legs, facing him. He went to his knees and his cock bobbed prettily in the water. Lorcan took it in hand, giving it a couple of gentle tugs.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to lock this up.” He petted the golden curls that bedded Rowan’s shaft. “And I think these have to go.”

Rowan’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything. In Lorcan’s hand, Rowan’s cock hardened. He was still wearing the cock ring and Lorcan realized that he should have changed the metal one for something better suited to immersion. He let himself off because he was so tired, but made a mental note to pay better attention to Rowan’s needs.

Rowan took a natural sponge from the side of the bath and lathered it with soap. He rubbed the sponge over Lorcan’s body. Lorcan knew he should have reprimanded him for taking the initiative without being asked, but the sensation was too good to complain about. He closed his eyes and allowed Rowan to wash him. His cock hardened and stayed that way until, ten minutes later, he stepped out of the bath into a warm towel Rowan held open for him. He pulled Rowan closer, enfolding him within the towel.

“You need to get dry, too.”

Rowan wriggled from his grip, dropping to his knees. He looked up, licking his lips.

“May I, Sir?”

Lorcan braced himself with one hand on the sink before nodding his assent.

“Wait. You’re sure? We haven’t discussed this.”

“It is in the contract, Sir,” Rowan reminded him. His lips closed around Lorcan’s shaft, applying perfect pressure. He took Lorcan’s dick deep into his throat and, though he gagged a little at the first attempt, the second time was seamless. He sucked hard and Lorcan wound the fingers of his free hand into Rowan’s damp hair, holding him in place. He took control, fucking Rowan’s willing mouth. It took only seconds to reach orgasm. Lorcan shuddered as he came, his release providing a symbolic break between his old life and the new. Sated, he let his cock slip from Rowan’s mouth. Rowan’s angelic smile let him know that he hadn’t been too rough.

“You’ve given me plenty of material for my dreams tonight, Rowan. Once you are dry and dressed, you may go. Remove the cock ring. Just call in at the kitchen and let Tor know that I’ll take breakfast at nine, a light lunch at one and dinner at eight, all in the same room we used this evening.”

Rowan pulled on the trousers he had worn to dinner.

“If you’re sure there’s nothing more I can do for you this evening, Sir, sleep well. What time would you like me to wake you in the morning?”

“You can present yourself at seven to accept your morning discipline.” Lorcan didn’t expand. It would be good for Rowan to wonder what that meant overnight. “Wear something inspiring.”

“Yes, Sir.” Rowan’s cheeks were flushed with color, his eyes bright. The temptation to throw him down on the bed and fuck him hard was strong. Lorcan didn’t think Rowan would be averse to the idea, but a conversation would be needed before that step was taken. They had only been together for a day, though it seemed to Lorcan that Rowan had been made just for him, and an easy conquest was not as much fun as a lengthier campaign.

Rowan left, closing the door quietly behind him and Lorcan immediately regretted sending him away. He determined that it would be the last night he spent alone. Chaining Rowan to his bed had all kinds of interesting possibilities.

 

* * * *

 

Rowan didn’t sleep well. He set his alarm for six to be sure that he had plenty of time to get ready to be at Lorcan’s room on the dot of seven. He woke long before it went off, having only dozed intermittently between dreams that left him panting and overheated. He gave up on rest and instead took his time in the shower. He made use of the enema kit in the bathroom cupboard, an experience he tolerated rather than enjoyed. Clean from top to bottom, inside and out, he debated what to wear. Lorcan had asked for something inspiring, but Rowan wasn’t sure what that meant. His outfit the previous day had been skimpy in the extreme so it was a safe bet that Lorcan wouldn’t want him covered up.

He dug through the dresser drawers, pulling out a selection of the underwear that had been left there for him. The range was extensive and there was little he would have chosen for himself unless, of course, he had been accompanied on a shopping expedition by Ed, who seemed to think that less was more where undergarments were concerned. Rowan grinned when he thought about his friend. It had been too late to ring him the previous night and besides, Rowan wasn’t quite ready to share his experiences yet. He wanted to be selfish and keep Lorcan to himself for a while. Thinking about Ed made him search through the drawers a little bit further. His unpacking had been rushed and he had shoved his own clothes to the back, resolving to sort everything out when he had a few hours to himself. He soon found the pair of black latex shorts he had bought for his interview but never worn. He eyed them with suspicion, not sure whether he had the courage to wear them.

“You wandered around all day yesterday with your arse on display, so what’s the problem?” Giving himself a talking-to helped a bit. He took the shorts into the bathroom where he had spotted a container of talcum powder. He applied a liberal sprinkling before shimmying into the shorts. They had some stretch, which was fortunate because there wasn’t a millimeter of spare room inside them. No matter how Rowan adjusted himself, the ridge of his cock was clearly visible and the latex seemed to sink between his arse cheeks. The shorts rode so low on his hips that he knew if he got an erection there was no doubt that his dick would poke over the top. He sighed. Lorcan would either like that or punish him for it. Rowan wasn’t sure which option he preferred.

He checked the time. He still had twenty minutes before he needed to be at Lorcan’s room. He debated whether or not to use the time to jack off and give himself some breathing space before he had to worry about an erection, but the thought of getting out of the shorts and then back into them again put him off. He took the time to send a quick text to Ed, promising to call him as soon as he could, though he wasn’t sure when that might be. He didn’t expect a reply but his phone immediately chimed with the alert for an incoming message. Ed had sent him a picture and he had to wait a few seconds for it to download. When it finally opened, Rowan snorted his laughter. The picture was of a man on his hands and knees wearing full puppy play regalia and a pair of shorts not unlike those Rowan had on. The only difference was the shorts had a split down the back and the man had a butt plug inserted that looked like a tail. Ed’s internet research on Rowan’s behalf was definitely expanding his view of the world.

Rowan left his room in plenty of time and presented himself at Lorcan’s door five minutes before he was due. He knocked, hoping that Lorcan was already awake. The door swung open almost as if Lorcan had been waiting behind it. He was dressed in snug-fitting exercise clothes and trainers.

“Good morning, Rowan. Your clothing choices are very much to my satisfaction.” He held the door open. “Come in. Bend over the bed.”

Rowan did as he was ordered, pulse pounding. Lorcan stood close behind him, his hands on Rowan’s hips.

“For the duration of my stay, this will be your routine in the morning. It’s important to re-establish our roles for the day, and that means discipline. I’ll deliver three swats with an instrument of my choice. You will count and thank me for each stroke.”

“Yes, Sir.” Rowan was proud his voice didn’t shake.

Lorcan slipped his hands into each side of Rowan’s shorts, pushing them down to his thighs.

“It’s a shame you’re not plugged. It would make this experience so much more enjoyable for both of us. It’s something that I will ensure is corrected tomorrow.”

Rowan gulped. He didn’t trust himself to respond.

“You seemed to enjoy the crop yesterday so that’s what I’m going to use this morning,” Lorcan stated. He gave Rowan’s arse a pat.

Rowan took a deep breath and shifted his feet a little further apart to get better balance. The anticipation of pain made him hard and he had no cock ring to help him control himself. He sank his teeth into his lower lip, worrying the tender flesh. When the first stroke of the crop landed across his backside, he yelped.

“One. Thank you, Sir.”

The second stroke was harder and Rowan didn’t feel that grateful when he said thank you. Lorcan had delivered one swat per cheek. The third was horizontal, intersecting both previous lines of fire that burned Rowan’s flesh.

“Three. Thank you, Sir.” He held his position despite the desperate urge to rub his rear.

“You took those beautifully,” Lorcan said. “Stay as you are while I fetch the balm.”

Rowan had no intention of moving. He took a few deep breaths. Glancing down, he gave his rock-hard cock a baleful glare until his attention was drawn to Lorcan smoothing cold gel over his burning cheeks.

“I can see you enjoyed our start to the day,” Lorcan said.

“To be honest, Sir, I don’t know whether to cry or ask for more,” Rowan admitted.

Lorcan, his fingers still slick with cooling balm, cupped Rowan’s balls. He massaged them with deft strokes.

“If you can come just from this touch, you have my permission.”

“Won’t be a problem, Sir.” Rowan could barely get the words out. His entire body shuddered as he came, spurting onto the bed clothes. His knees gave way, but Lorcan held him up, pulling him into an embrace.

“I slept well last night thanks to you. I feel great and spanking you is an excellent warm up for a workout.”

“I’m glad to be of assistance. My arse is at your service.”

“It is and you have my gratitude.” He kneaded Rowan’s backside. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour, assuming I can still find the gym. You have things to do here?”

“I can show you the way first, if you’d like me to, Sir?”

“I’ll manage. Then by the time I’m done and showered, we can go to breakfast.” Lorcan stepped towards the door. “You okay?”

Rowan locked his knees. “Yes, Sir. Enjoy your workout.”

As soon as Lorcan had gone, Rowan gave his sore behind a rub, moaning at the pleasure pain of the ache. He pulled his shorts up, wishing he’d opted for silk or soft cotton instead of latex, but hindsight was a wonderful thing. He’d just have to hope they didn’t chafe too much while he got on with his chores. He collected all the cleaning supplies that he needed from storage, catching sight of Luke in the hallway as he crossed the gallery. Luke nodded in his direction then continued toward his office.

Rowan tackled the bathroom first, though Lorcan wasn’t untidy, cleaning the sink, toilet and shower until they gleamed. The bath got a good scrub as well. Rowan collected up the towels and put them in a pile next to the bedroom door. He stripped the bed, adding the linens to the heap for the laundry, then went to collect fresh stock. Posting all the things for washing down the laundry chute was fun and he breathed deeply when he opened the door of the linen cupboard because the smell of scented cotton made him happy. Back in Lorcan’s room, he put clean towels on the bathroom radiator to warm through then made up the bed, smoothing the covers and plumping the pillows. Finally, he gave the furniture a quick dust and tidied anything that was out of place. He opened the window a crack to let in some fresh air then stowed all the cleaning gear away in its cupboard. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, Rowan settled on his knees opposite the door and waited for Lorcan to return. The position calmed him. He couldn’t make mistakes or bump into things when he was kneeling.

Lorcan whipped off his shirt the instant he came through the door. His face and chest were pink, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. Rowan’s mouth went dry. He found a spot on the carpet to focus on but couldn’t resist peeking through his lashes. Lorcan’s self-satisfied smirk told him he’d been spotted.

“Enjoying the view, Rowan?”

“Yes, Sir.” Rowan decided honesty was the best policy because it meant he had an excuse to stare at Lorcan’s sculpted chest.

Lorcan kicked off his trainers, toed off his socks then dropped his tracksuit bottoms. He was left wearing a snowy white jock and a smile. He chuckled then headed for the bathroom giving Rowan a perfect view of his impressive arse.

“Holy fuck,” Rowan muttered under his breath. He didn’t swear often but Lorcan’s body was worthy of a few well-chosen expletives.

“Get in here, Rowan!” Lorcan sounded more amused than impatient.

Rowan scrambled to his feet. By the time he got into the bathroom, Lorcan was beneath the shower, soaping his body.

He’s doing it deliberately, I know he is. Rowan watched, wide-eyed, as Lorcan washed his cock and balls. He’s torturing me. Rowan’s shorts were far too small to contain his burgeoning erection. He tried to adjust himself, but the latex was tight and his cock persistent. He gave up with a pained sigh, resigned to a morning of discomfort and humiliation. Lorcan would love his predicament, that was certain. Rowan grabbed the bath towel and held it out, partly to shield himself but also so that Lorcan could step out of the shower into its warmth. Of course, when the towel was wrapped around Lorcan’s hips, Rowan lost its protection. Lorcan’s gaze went immediately to Rowan’s groin.

“This morning, I’m going to do something about that problem you have there,” he said. “But first, I need to fortify myself with one of Tor’s no doubt delicious breakfasts. Why don’t you go on downstairs, Rowan? Check that everything is ready. You can join me at the table this morning, so make sure there’s a place setting for you.”

Rowan escaped with relief, though, as he descended the stairs, he prayed that Tor would not be in the snug. Rowan found Tor a little intimidating and, though he knew the chef wouldn’t bat an eyelid at Rowan’s condition, he also knew the information would be filed away and add to the impression he was making. He wouldn’t be buying a Lottery ticket anytime soon because sure enough, when he reached the snug, Tor was laying out a basket of fresh bread. The aroma was enticing and Rowan almost forgot the state he was in until Tor pinned him with a knowing stare, eyebrows raised.

“Good morning, Chef.” Heat bloomed in Rowan’s cheeks.

“It is indeed, boy.” Tor didn’t smile but his lips twitched.

“Mr. Wilder will be down shortly. He wants me to sit at the table with him.” Rowan noted that there was only one place setting laid out.

“Then you’d better come to the kitchen with me,” Tor said. “I’ll give you some more crockery and cutlery.”

The walk to the kitchen and back didn’t help Rowan’s predicament. The friction against his rigid shaft was torment. It was a miracle he made it back to the snug without dropping anything. He’d just finished setting everything out when Lorcan arrived. Rowan waited for him to take his seat before taking his own chair.

“Help yourself, Rowan. No need to stand on ceremony, but I suggest you have a light meal. This morning will be…quite demanding.”

Rowan sighed. If Lorcan had anything to do with it Rowan would be hard for the rest of his life. Just the stern tone of his voice sent lightning bolts of arousal to Rowan’s cock. He wished Lorcan would be a bit more forthcoming about his plans for the morning but of course he said nothing, choosing instead to make small talk about the food, the delicious coffee and even the weather. It was the longest meal Rowan had ever sat through. When Lorcan poured himself another cup of coffee, Rowan wanted to throw it at him.

“You seem a little agitated,” Lorcan said, stirring a few grains of sugar into his drink. “You serve at my pleasure, Rowan. Suffice to say I think you’ll enjoy this morning’s activities.” He pointed at the floor. “Next to me please.”

It was a relief to get to his knees, even though the floor was hard, because it meant that he no longer had to make eye contact. Rowan forced himself to relax and take deep breaths. Lorcan cupped the nape of his neck with a warm hand.

“I know you’re going to do well for me this morning. Just do your best. I don’t expect anything more.” He sipped his coffee. “It’s time we paid our first visit to the dungeon.”

Rowan shivered, the hair rising on his forearms. He determined to try his best to be what Lorcan needed. It was no hardship to please him. Lorcan stroked his neck, calming him as he might a skittish colt. Rowan pressed into his touch, seeking the reassurance it provided.

“Good boy. Everything is going to be fine. I’m here and I’ll take care of you.”

Rowan had no doubt it was true. He may have only known him for a short time but Rowan trusted Lorcan with every fiber of his being. His errant cock twitched, eager to get started. Rowan wished his mind could be as confident as his body apparently was that he would find the morning’s events pleasurable.