The Flesh Cartel - Episode #7: Homecoming by Rachel Haimowitz, Heidi Belleau Read Free Book Online Page A

want some, sir?”
    Nikolai, chin still in his hand, grin still plastered all over his face, nudged the plate back. “I quite like to see you happy, Douglas. These are for you. You’re too thin. Eat.”
    Dougie had a single surreal moment of thinking, Fattening me up for the slaughter , and somehow, truly, believing it. But then it passed, and he picked up another fry and crunched into it with blissful satisfaction, making sure Nikolai saw every single twitch of expression on his face. He threw in a moan for good measure. Didn’t even have to fake it. Inside the cock cage, his dick was swelling, trying its damnedest to get in on all the fun his mouth was having.
    He squirmed a little on his chair, driving the plug against his prostate, and tore into the bag of potato chips.
    When he’d eaten his fill and then some, he fell into his old ritual of sucking the salty sour cream powder off his fingers, and that was when he realized . . . he wanted Nikolai. Wanted to thank him for the wonderful day. Wanted to share in the pleasure he was currently hoarding to himself in his full belly. Just wanted him. And maybe that’d been Nikolai’s plan all along, and maybe all this kindness was just as devious and manipulative as all the cruelty that had come before it, but . . .
    But the truth was, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Maybe wasn’t strong enough to bring himself to care. Certainly didn’t want to bring himself to care, not with how good he felt right now, how sated and cared for and, yes, even loved. He locked his suspicions in the same dark, distant closet as the nagging voice from his old life, and looked at Nikolai with new eyes. New eyes that drank Nikolai in, held him rapt until they were each the other’s prisoner. Shoved his salty-sweet thumb into his mouth. Sucked .
    Nikolai’s palms hit the edge of the table, rattling the cans of Red Bull. “Dismissed, Jeremy,” he said through gritted teeth, and Dougie heard the sound of a gas burner being shut off and then a clatter of dishes. Jeremy, the cook, must have left after that, but Dougie didn’t see him go. He only had eyes for Nikolai.
    Dougie slipped out of his chair at the same time Nikolai pushed back from the table. Another first: the first time Dougie had ever gone to Nikolai of his own desire. He’d been obedient before, even maybe willing, lost, or just plain desperate, but he’d never gone to Nikolai like this, walked—no, slinked, the movement was sensuous and sexy—right up to him and pressed their bodies together, practically climbing into Nikolai’s lap as he did. “May I, sir?” he asked, remembering his manners, even though there was no question that Nikolai wanted this as badly as Dougie somehow did. Still, explicit permission— never touch your master without explicit permission . The last thing in all the world he wanted to do right now was break Nikolai’s rules. Upset Nikolai. Let Nikolai down.
    “Yes,” Nikolai breathed, and his hands found Dougie’s waist, fingers slipping under his sweater. Dougie lifted his arms so Nikolai could pull it away. It felt good. As fine as the sweater was, being bare felt better. Free. Simple.
    Nikolai ran a hand down Dougie’s newly exposed chest, so smooth from the wax, down to cup the soft roundness of his overfull belly. Dougie didn’t have abs like Mat did, and he’d always been a little ashamed of that, but Nikolai caressed him, abs or no. “Beautiful,” Nikolai said. “So soft.”
    His hands went to Dougie’s fly next, slipping the button, tugging the zipper. Dougie bit his lip and blushed, feeling absurdly like a virgin. Nikolai had never undressed him before. Nobody had. That was something men did to women, undressed them slowly, revealing the secrets of their bodies. Dougie wasn’t all that sexually experienced, but the times he’d fucked, he’d undressed furtively, like it was simultaneously shameful and a race to the finish.
    Now, Nikolai slowly unwrapped him like a fine