Page 47 of Body and Soul

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, quickly stowing the cut vegetables in the refrigerator and wrapping the steaks in butcher paper before placing them in the meat drawer. I hurried back to the living room, the scotch held carefully aloft.

Shepherd had sunk onto the leather couch, his long legs splayed and his head tipped back. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow. I approached and held out the tumbler, waiting for him to take it.

His eyes fluttered open, and he reached out, taking the glass from my hand. His fingers brushed mine briefly, sending a shiver racing up my spine. I watched, transfixed, as he brought the glass to his lips, taking a long swallow. A soft groan escaped him as he savored the rich flavor.

I sank to my knees beside the couch, resting back on my heels, palms flat on my thighs, awaiting further instruction. Shepherd cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking over the silver ring in my bottom lip. I leaned into his touch, cherishing these fleeting moments of gentleness.

“You’ve done well today, boy,” he murmured, his deep voice rumbling through me.

“Thank you, Sir,” I whispered, a flush of pride warming my chest at his praise.

Shepherd took another sip of scotch before setting the glass down.

“Please Sir, may I lay my head on your thigh?” I asked softly, craving his closeness.

Shepherd considered me for a long moment. Then he nodded. “You may.”

Gratitude bloomed in my chest. “Thank you, Sir.” I shifted closer and lowered my head to his strong thigh.

As soon as I made contact, relief washed over me, unwinding the tension in my muscles. I felt grounded by his solid presence, comforted by his closeness in a way I couldn't articulate. These moments of intimacy soothed a deep ache inside me, born of years without gentle touch.

Shepherd's hand came to rest on my head, fingers threading into my white-blond hair. I sighed softly at the contact. My eyes fluttered shut as he began to pet me with languid strokes, his short nails lightly scratching my scalp.

The physical contact sent relief flooding through me, easing the tension that had built throughout the day. Shepherd radiated heat like a furnace, and I drank in his warmth, letting it soothe my raw nerves. The familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around me, making my head swim pleasantly. I nuzzled into his thigh, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

Shepherd's fingers continued their lazy path through my hair, igniting sparks that danced down my spine to pool hot in my core. The soothing touch was both a balm and a torment, lulling me into a dreamy haze while stoking the hunger that roiled in my gut.

An image flashed through my mind—me kneeling between Shepherd's spread thighs, his zipper lowered, that thick, perfect cock jutting from the opening. I imagined leaning forward, extending my tongue to lap the gleaming bead of pre-cum from the broad head, savoring his bitter salt. In my fantasy, Shepherd's hand fisted in my hair, guiding me down, urging me to take him deeper.

A whimper escaped me, and my hips shifted restlessly, my own swollen cock throbbing in my jeans. I squirmed, seekingrelief from the near-painful pressure, but the movement only intensified the ache.

Shepherd's hand stilled on my head, and I froze, realizing my mistake. “Something wrong, boy?”

I drew in a shuddering breath, heat flooding my cheeks. I couldn't lie to Shepherd.

“I... I'm struggling, Sir,” I admitted quietly. “This is the longest I’ve gone without any release in a long time, and it’s harder than I thought.”

Shepherd made a thoughtful noise, resuming his idle stroking through my hair. “And you've been obedient, keeping to the rule of no self-pleasure?”

“Yes, Sir,” I mumbled against his thigh, frustration creeping into my tone. “But I'm so horny all the time I can barely think straight. Even the slightest brush against my cock makes me want to hump the nearest surface.”

Another huff of laughter escaped Shepherd, but it held no cruelty—only gentle amusement. “My poor boy,” he crooned, rubbing his fingers over my nape. “You've done well. I know it hasn't been easy.”

I preened internally at the praise, even as my body thrummed with need.

Shepherd's hand slid from my hair to cup my chin, tipping my face up to meet his penetrating gaze. His dark eyes glittered with something hard to define—heat and approval that made my mouth go dry.

“It’s been a long day for me. I could use a little entertainment. You've been a good boy lately, Eli,” he rumbled, his voice dropping an octave. “So obedient and hardworking. I think you’ve earned a reward.”

Hope flared in my chest. “Thank you, Sir,” I breathed.

Shepherd's lips quirked in a smile. “But you’ll have to follow my instructions.”

“Yes, Sir,” I nodded eagerly.

“Stand up and go to the fireplace,” he instructed, his voice roughened with arousal. “Face me and start undressing slowly.”

A shiver raced through me at his words. I rose on unsteady legs, moving to stand before the large stone fireplace. The low flames cast flickering shadows over my body as I turned to face Shepherd.

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