Page 132 of Their Master

When Smith had ignored his question, the younger man had continued.

“When we were together, I satisfied those hungers—did I not?” He’d begun speaking arrogantly but had ended with a pleading, wheedling note in his voice.

“You did,” Smith had agreed. And that was the truth. It had never been Charles’s ability to please and satisfy him sexually that had been their problem.

“We were so good together.”

When Smith hadn’t commented, Charles had applied his considerable talents to waking Smith’s cock from its slumber.

“You said it couldn’t happen,” Charles had said after he’d drawn an unprecedented fourth orgasm from him. “Perhaps your… footman, could use a lesson or two from me.” Charles had smiled smugly, his lips still slick with Smith’s spend.

Smith had ignored the twinge of irritation his comment about Luke elicited. He’d also ignored Charles’s obvious angling to resume their prior arrangement.

While he greatly enjoyed bedding Charles on occasion, he had absolutelynodesire for anything permanent.

He’d not even wanted the other man to stay the night, but he’d allowed it, even though the following day was a Monday and he was leaving for Bristol for ten days on Tuesday. All of which had meant he had a great deal to do.

But he’d let Charles stay until the following morning.

“I can’t see you tonight. I have plans,” Smith had said early Monday. It had been later than he liked and he’d been itching to get into his gymnasium and spend an hour before his busy day consumed all his time.

Smith was always restless before he left on a trip and he’d needed time alone to think and prepare.

What he hadnotneeded was an argument.

But that’s what he got.

“Change your plans. I want to see you tonight,” Charles had insisted, resting his hands on his hips, the action drawing Smith’s attention to his exceedingly desirable cock.

Charles had an apradava piercing and Smith had always been a bit obsessed with it.

At that moment it had suddenly struck him: Charles’s pierced prick was pretty muchallthat he still liked about the other man.

He’d been a fool to invite him back into his bed—into his life.

He’d looked up from Charles’s groin to encounter his demanding stare.

“No.”

Charles’s jaw had sagged.

Before he could launch a harangue, Knox had entered, but had hesitated upon seeing Smith and Charles glaring at one another, naked.

“I’m ready for my shave,” Smith said. “You may go prepare.” He waited until his valet had disappeared into the adjoining bath chamber before turning back to Charles.

“No. I will not change my plans.”

“You really are a pitiful man, Smith.” Charles had shoved past Smith even though he was nowhere in his path and flounced into his dressing room, where Smith insisted that he put his clothing, rather than strewing everything all over the floor, yet another request that annoyed Charles.

Smith had considered simply leaving the room and joining Knox, but he knew Charles would just follow him and continue his ranting.

Charles had stormed back into the room and thrown his armload of clothing over the back of the chair, snatching up his shirt and ramming his arm into it so hard it tore.

“Fucking your servants.” He snorted. “Youdorealize how pathetic that is, I hope? You must know that big lummox—Luke—can’t sayno, don’t you?”

Smith had sighed and waited for him to finish.

Charles had jerked his head toward the door Knox had just gone through. “Are you fucking him too? Are you fuckingallof them now? Some sort of servant harem.”

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