I feign a stomach bug for the next few days as explanation for my heartbroken, lifeless state of mind since things blew up between Liam and me.
But today my mood shifts as soon as the sun rises, because it’s my last day in the House of Taurus.
It also happens to be my keeper’s birthday.
Loren and I prepare a celebratory dinner featuring Mr. Bordeaux’s favorite dishes of creamy pesto shrimp and grilled zucchini.
My keeper’s mood is abnormally pleasant, and I’m a little perplexed by his willingness to be a decent human being tonight, going so far as to let me sit at the table and speak. He even gave us free rein on choosing the menu for the evening.
I’m in the kitchen loading the dishwasher when I sense his presence behind me. Turning to face him, I lower to my haunches and strike the pose.
“Did Loren tell you today is his birthday, too?”
“No, Mr. Bordeaux. He didn’t.”
“I’m not surprised.” He wanders to the dishwasher, and much to my astonishment, stacks the last two dessert bowls on the top rack. “He always puts the focus on me, even though this is his day too.”
That’s because Loren is selfless. Mr. Bordeaux could learn a thing or two from his manservant.
“This year, I have something special in mind for him.” Switching on the dishwasher, he trains his attention on me. “And you’re going to help me.”
“Whatever you need, Mr. Bordeaux.”
“You mean that, don’t you?” His fingers lift my chin, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to catch his gaze and try to find a reason for his oddly softened tone.
“Yes, Mr. Bordeaux.”
“I know your first instinct is to tell me what I want to hear, but I believe I can trust you.” His touch strengthens to a strong, unmovable grip on my jaw. “Look at me, Novalee.”
Inch by inch, I draw my gaze along the slope of his shoulder, the evening stubble on his jawline, the thin point of his nose, and finally…I meet his hazel eyes.
“Despite your occasional stumble, you’ve proven your obedience and, dare I say, loyalty.” He tilts his head. “I know you have a soft spot for Loren.”
“He’s been very kind to me.”
“Where I have not.”
I don’t answer because confirming his assessment won’t do either of us any good.
“You might not like what I have in mind tonight, but I expect you to cooperate for Loren’s sake.”
“I understand, Mr. Bordeaux.”
He rubs his thumb across my lip. “Tonight, you will address Loren as your master. If you fail to do so, you will lose a diamond, and I’ll be forced to schedule your punishment with Pax.” A beat goes by, in which he gives me a pointed look. “Am I correct in assuming you don’t want such a visit to the dungeon hanging over your head as you move on to the House of Gemini tomorrow?”
“You’re correct, Mr. Bordeaux. That’s not what I want.”
“Then we understand each other. Follow me.” He ushers me out of the kitchen, through the great room, and into his private quarters, and the sight beyond the double doors doesn’t fully register until I stall three feet inside my keeper’s bedroom. My breath stalls in my lungs.
Loren is kneeling.
In the pose.
And he’s completely naked.
The doors shut behind me, and Mr. Bordeaux gestures to a reclining lounge next to the king-sized bed. “Take a seat,” he tells me, nodding toward the chair.
I obey, but the unmoving sight of Loren tugs at my attention. He’s kneeling to the right of me, where Mr. Bordeaux approaches him with his unhurried, confident gait.
“Go ahead and stand,” he orders, voice too husky to be demanding.
Loren rises to his feet. He’s a couple inches shy of his master’s height, but no less imposing in his naked beauty.
Before I came to the island, I would have fallen over in mortification at witnessing such a display of unabashed nudity, but the men living inside the circular walls of the Zodiac Estate have thoroughly corrupted me in the last two months.
“Stand in front of Novalee. Show her what a gorgeous cock you have.”
There’s a hint of shyness in Loren’s mannerisms as he halts before me, hands at his back. His hard-on confronts me at eye-level, despite the reclined position of my body.
“You’re her master tonight, my love. She answers to you.” Mr. Bordeaux reaches for Loren’s erection from behind, and his fingers wrap around the base. “She’s my gift to you.”
“You’ve already given me so much, Master Bordeaux. A gift isn’t necessary.”
“Nothing is necessary, but I want to give this to you. You deserve a warm, wet place for this beautiful cock to go.” His strokes quicken, and Loren shudders. “You want to come, don’t you, my love?”
“Yes,” he hisses, jerking into his master’s fist.
“Then choose. Do you want to use her mouth, or her ass?”
Loren’s heavy-lidded gaze meets mine, and I silently plead for the first option, my expression stricken at the thought of option two.
“She has a beautiful mouth, Master Bordeaux.”
“Yes, she does. She’s beautiful through and through. Would you like to see her without clothing?”
“Y-yes.”
“Then command her. You are her master tonight. She knows not to disobey you.”
Loren licks his lips, the dart of his tongue more nervous than seductive. “I want you to remove your dress,” he tells me, lacking the hard-edged tone of his master.
I pull at the hem and work the dress up my torso and over my head, then I shimmy out of my panties, ass scooting on the soft leather cushion. My nipples pebble in the mild temperature of the room, and Loren’s gaze latches onto them. With a deep-throated groan, he pushes into his master’s hand.
Mr. Bordeaux squeezes the tip, making Loren wince.
“I know she’s sexy, but you don’t get to come until I say you do.” Mr. Bordeaux’s zipper sounds, along with other movements that go unseen, and then he grips Loren’s hips, and by the way they both jerk, I know Mr. Bordeaux is claiming his ass. Teeth clenched, Loren hisses in a breath at the intrusion.
Muscular thighs slap against skin, chests heave, and cocks thrust—Loren’s into Mr. Bordeaux’s fist as his master seeks pleasure from behind.
“I need more,” Loren rasps, grunting a rhythmic song of agony laced with pleasure. Anytime he gets close to climaxing, Mr. Bordeaux squeezes the tip of his shaft.
That’s when I realize he’s using the maneuver to keep him from reaching orgasm.
“Do you want inside her mouth?”
“Yes, Master Bordeaux,” he groans.
“Then make her open for you.” The two tilt forward, and Loren holds onto the back of the lounge, his arms extended, muscles bulging from exertion as he thrusts the tip toward my lips.
“Do you want this?” Loren asks, dipping his head and searching my face.
I’m intrigued, and a little turned on watching them, but the honest answer is no, and I’m certain that isn’t what he’s hoping to hear.
“Y-yes…Master.”
I can do this for him, and I try to tell him so by holding his gaze as I part my lips.
Loren only hesitates a second before pushing inside. “Ah, God, Novalee.”
He’s heavy on my tongue, a mixture of salt and his own unique essence, and I work him the best I can, part of me wanting to give him pleasure.
The bigger part of me wants this to be over.
The three of us settle into a steady tempo, connected by sex and lust and submissive roles. Mr. Bordeaux pounds into Loren, his thrusts violent enough to pummel the cock in my mouth to the back of my throat.
I grab the cushion beneath me, fingers digging into leather, and hold on for all I’m worth. That’s all I can do—remain still, mouth spread wide as Loren rides my face. He’s so deep that the circle of Mr. Bordeaux’s fist pushes against my lips, gripping Loren at the base.
Every few minutes, he yanks Loren from my mouth and stops his orgasm with firm pressure to the head.
“Let me come, Master Bordeaux. Please.”
“Aren’t you enjoying her mouth?”
“Yes. Feels so good.” Loren shutters his eyes in frustration.
“When I come, you come.” Mr. Bordeaux gives a dark chuckle. “You should feel privileged, my love. Our beautiful queen doesn’t get to come at all.”
The reminder is a smack to the face, a splash of ice water on the sweat-inducing haze of depravity in the room. My mind steamrolls over the memory of my argument with Liam a few days ago, then slams into the brick wall of Sebastian’s taunting denial.
It seems every man in this tower wants to put my orgasms on lockdown.
Loren thrusts into my mouth again, and then Mr. Bordeaux grunts, both hands gouging Loren’s hips as he groans a series of unintelligible cries. He empties into his lover, and that sends Loren over the edge. His release is a fountain of completion, intense and prolonged from his master’s game of stopping and starting. I choke and cough as his climax hits the back of my throat, but afterward…
Loren smiles down at me, skin bathed in sweat, gray eyes brimming with gratitude, and I can’t find an iota in me that regrets being part of his pleasure.