A Master's Fidelity (Ganymede Quartet Book 2.5) by Darrah Glass Read Free Book Online Page A

dangling feet and thrust into him in sharp jerks. Martin stared, fascinated, as Dick fucked Tom, the muscles of his ass clenching and then going slack as he made his thrusts. The contrast between Dick’s cocoa brown skin and Tom’s milk white was very attractive, Dick’s hands like dark stars spread on the backs of Tom’s thighs. At the command of one of the masters, Simon presented his cock for Tom to suck, and Tom opened his mouth with a greedy moan. Alex reached for Tom’s cock with his left hand as he worked his own with the right. Even though Martin didn’t like the idea of touching or being touched by Alex, for just a moment he wanted to be in Tom’s place, with a cock in his mouth and another in his ass. In his most perfect fantasy, he had two of Henry, neither of them jealous, and they fucked him from both ends, filling him up and making him come harder than anyone else possibly could.
    Henry looked shocked, his mouth hanging slack and eyes wide. Martin wished he could go to him and take his hand and reassure him, because Henry certainly looked as though he needed reassurance. At Martin’s side, Peter began to strip and he nudged Martin with his elbow.
    “Come on,” he murmured. “Everyone’s been waiting for you.”
    It was good to feel welcome. He looked to Henry for guidance, but Henry was still staring at the naked slaves. However, when Martin reached for the buttons of his waistcoat, Henry’s hand shot out and caught his wrist, staying his hand. So they were not participating, just as he had thought. It was mostly a relief. None of Martin’s friends would put their hands on Henry, and he was glad of it; he would have Henry to himself awhile longer. He was grinning, inappropriately happy, and did his best to rearrange his face into a more impassive expression while Mr. Ross and Henry exchanged heated words about swapping.
    Martin felt affronted on Henry’s behalf when Mr. Ross kicked them out of the party. It was extremely ungentlemanly, in Martin’s opinion. There were better ways to have handled it. Simon gave Martin a commiserating look, and several of the masters looked as though they might disagree with Mr. Ross’ decision. But no one spoke up for Henry, no one said he could stay and watch, not even Mr. Briggs, and Martin wasn’t really surprised. The masters liked the rules they’d established for their parties; they wouldn’t bend them just for Henry.
    Storming out didn’t go well. Neither of them were familiar with the Ross house and they ended up in the kitchen instead of the entry hall. A scullery maid had to lead them through the bowels of the house and find them a footman to fetch their hats and coats. Henry was fuming the entire time, mad at the world, and Martin hoped Henry realized they were on the same side, that he would always be on Henry’s side.
    However, part of being on Henry’s side was preparing him for the future, for reality. Martin didn’t want to do it, not at all, but he felt he would be doing Henry a disservice if he didn’t encourage participation. Martin had always been taught that swaps were an important social event, a bonding experience for young men, and Henry was missing out on all of that.
    Martin hurried to keep up with Henry as he strode down the sidewalk, hands jammed in his coat pockets.
    “Sir? Sir?”
    Henry whirled to glare at him. “What is it?” His gaze softened; he wasn’t really mad at Martin, after all.
    The best way to say it was maybe just to say it. “I—I wouldn't mind, Sir. If you want.” It wasn’t true. He would mind.
    “What?”
    His heart was not in the offer, but he had to make it. “If you wanted to go back, Sir, I…would understand. This sort of thing…I knew it could happen. It's well-known that gentlemen have these sorts of parties after all, Sir.”
    Henry came to a halt beneath a streetlamp and grabbed Martin’s wrist, jerking him to a standstill. “What? You wouldn't mind ?” I mind, Martin! You…you matter