Page 103 of Gambler's Conceit

I blink in surprise. “I did not act like I was in a bad mood.”

Seven steps away from me and gives me a strange look. “Yes, you did. I can tell.”

I want to argue, but I think this is another part of Seven that I’ve known about. He knows how to read people—because he always needed to know.

I’m starting to regret having looked into Seven’s past.

No, I regret having been sloppy enough that somebody was alerted. I need to get them off the scent. Maybe I’ll have somebody set up a false trail. Or I should meet with them in person, or…

“What are you thinking about?” Seven asks. “Since it’s apparently not me.”

I inhale sharply and follow him to the suites. “The things that have been stressing me. You’re right. I do need you to make me feel better.”

The guard at the door averts his gaze and doesn’t comment on that as Seven and I walk past him into the apartment. Wehead into the bedroom, and I shut the door before the cats can think to follow.

Seven pulls his shirt off, revealing that body that’s so eager to be touched.

To be hurt.

A body that’s been so indelibly marked by others but somehow belongs tomemore than any of them.

“Well,” he says, turning slowly in front of me so I can take all of him in. “You have me. What are you going to do to me, Master?”

Everything.

I want to feel him. I want to hurt him. I want to be the focus of his thoughts and desires.

I want to be completely in control.

I go up to him and pull him into a harsh kiss. He mewls and bends for me, allowing me to take his breath with the kiss.

“Strip,” I order. “And lie down, face up, on my bed.”

“Yes, Master,” he breathes out shakily, his pupils already blown wide with lust as his body reacts to my voice and my touch. He pulls the rest of his clothes off and discards them with as little care as he had his shirt, eagerly bounding onto the bed.

He lies there for me, his gaze going to me.

“Like this?” he purrs, spreading his legs wide.

“Exactly like that,” I say. I strip my clothes off too, tossing the suit carelessly aside. It’ll need to go to the dry cleaners anyway.

Seven watches me eagerly, but his expression falters when I grab the large pump jar of lube from the bedside table. “I don’t need lube,” he says. “Your spit is enough.”

I smirk at him. “If I were just fucking you, I’d agree. But I’m going to do more than that.”

“O-oh?” he asks, sounding torn between desire and trepidation.

I set the lube down next to him and get between his legs, pushing his thighs wider. His cock is only half-hard, but that’s easy enough to take care of.

I give his cock a few strokes. “What’s the biggest cock you’ve ever taken, pet?”

“Hmm…” Seven considers for a moment, his hips bucking up to drive his cock into my hand. “I mean, I didn’t have a ruler on hand, but it was pretty big. Vortex is up there, though, if you need someone to compare to, I guess.”

“We should work you up to taking two at once,” I say as I continue to stroke. “Me and Havoc, first, so it’ll be less of a stretch.”

A shiver runs through Seven’s body. “I… I don’t think my hole could handlethat,” he says, but he’s looking at me with eagerness, not fear.

I let go of his cock, earning myself a whine from Seven. “You could. We’d get you nice and relaxed, incredibly stretched out…” I pump lube onto my fingers and press them against Seven’s hole. “Havoc’s cock would probably be trying to fight mine inside you.”

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