Page 82 of Seducing the Sorcerer
“And can I have your arse if I want it?” Fenn gave the arse in question another squeeze. Morgrim nodded, so Fenn added, “And suck you? Have you suck me?”
Morgrim cleared his throat, as if he was already thinking about having something in his mouth. “Yes. Both those things.”
“I can spend in your mouth?”
“I...like that.”
“Right. Anything you want to say?”
“I suppose, mostly I just want to...to have you treat me like a...a plaything. You know, for you to order me around and make me do things that are a bit...undignified.”
“Right. Reckon that’s enough to be getting on with. And listen, it goes anywhere you don’t like, you just say ‘let’s do something else’. All right? And we will.”
Fenn let go, leaving Morgrim standing in front of him, and glanced over his shoulder at the bed. It looked grand. Ridiculously wide. Very comfortable. And all that black silk. He sat down on it and shuffled backwards so he could lean on the pillows, propped up but at his ease. When Morgrim made to follow him, Fenn lifted a finger.
“No. You strip first. There. Where I can see you.”
Morgrim’s face was a picture: surprise, reluctance and shame all ending up with a look so hot Fenn was surprised he didn’t burst into flames. He did have to adjust himself through his trousers, though he didn’t undo them. Yet.
Then a thought struck him.
“Hey. You ever told anyone what you wanted before? In bed, I mean. You ever told anyone what you just told me?”
Morgrim fiddled with his gloves. Eventually, he said, “Not as such.”
“That mean ‘no’?”
“How could I tell them? What if it had got about? ‘Morgrim the sorcerer wants to be used and...and humiliated’. I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have people making fun. So, I just picked men who looked the part and told them things like ‘harder’ or ‘faster’. I never came out and said it.”
“Said what?”
Morgrim stared at him, blood rushing to his face.
“Said what?” Fenn repeated.
“I...I want to be a plaything. Your plaything.”
“Aye, good. But that ain’t it. You used the word earlier. Think back. And tell me: what is it you want?”
“To...to take whatever you want. For you to be rough. For you to hurt me and make me do anything you like.”
“Aye, and I will. But that ain’t it either. You trying not to admit it or something? That’s sweet, but you ain’t fooling me.”
Morgrim’s brows twitched. “I don’t know what it is you want me to say.”
“No? You said you wanted someone masterful. So, you know what that means, don’t you? You can repeat after me: what you want in the bedroom is a master.”
Morgrim’s breath caught at the word. His lips moved, but then he frowned, closed his mouth and shifted, nervily, like a horse that smells thunder.
Fenn let the silence stretch out another moment or two, then came to his rescue. “All right, you needn’t admit it right now, but reckon I’ll have you begging to call me that before too long. But only in here, mind. And only when we both want to hear it. The rest of the time we go on as normal. Understand?”
“Yes.”
There was no question in Morgrim’s voice. All the same, Fenn added, “And none of this goes any further. You got that too, I hope?”
“You think I’d have told you all this if I didn’t know that?”
“Good. Then, strip. And while you do it, you can think on what you’ll be calling me before too long. And it won’t just be a word. You’ll mean it. And it’ll be true.”
