Page 123 of Their Master

The thought of having Smith for a servant—no matter how temporarily—was one of his most private fantasies. Had he been serious? Or merely jesting?

Once the door closed to his bedchamber, Smith turned to him. “So, are you a kind master? Or a cruel one?

A startled laugh broke out of Luke at the question. “I suppose you’ll find out,” he managed to say.

He could see by Smith’s delighted grin that was the right answer.

“Strip,” Luke ordered, falling into his role with an ease that surprised him. “And then we will go into the gymnasium where you will exercise for my viewing—and touching—pleasure.

Smith’s pupils flared in a way that told Luke he’d made a choice that would please them both.

A scant five minutes later, he was lounging against a wall—an erection jammed into the leg of his trousers—watching as Smith did some of the things he’d wondered about for so long.

“Tell me what you are doing,” he said.

“These are weights.” Smith held up a canvas pouch with buckles. “They are filled with sand and range from one to ten pounds. This one is five pounds.” He fastened it around his ankle. “They offer more of a challenge to some exercises.”

Luke nodded. “Some of the lads I spar with use those.”

“So, you are a pugilist?”

“Not until I came to work here,” Luke admitted.

“You’ve participated in some of the mills out in the stables?”

Luke blinked. “You know about those?”

Smith chuckled as he laid down on a tufted pallet on the floor. “I know about everything that goes on in my house.”

Luke believed him. “Why have you never come to watch a bout?”

Smith shrugged. “I thought I might have a dampening effect on the entertainment.”

“I think you should come and put your name into the hat,” Luke said, and then was amazed by his own temerity.

Smith grinned. “I might do that.” He clasped his hands behind his head, lifted his feet in the air and crossed them at the ankle, drawing his knees toward his bent elbows with smooth motions, holding the position for a count, and then releasing it.

Because he wore no clothing, the effect of the exercise on his muscles was gloriously evident.

Luke prowled around him, not wanting to miss any part of the view.

But he froze midway on his circuit, his gaze trapped by the exquisite sight of Smith’s erect cock and heavy sac between his muscular thighs.

“See anything you like,” Smith asked in a slightly breathless voice, his body quickly becoming sheened from his relentless exertion.

“How many of these will you do?” Luke asked, his own voice sounding considerably breathier for all that he was standing still.

“Fifty. Then a break, and then fifty more.”

“What are you at, now?”

“Forty-three.”

Luke unbuttoned his placket and let his drawers and trousers drop. Smith’s gaze lowered to his swollen cock and his tongue darted out to moisten his lower lip.

Luke groaned at the sight and pumped himself a few times, savoring the way Smith’s movements became jerkier, less focused.

“See anything you like?” he taunted.

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