The club was packed. Dozens of young subs lined up along the wall, obviously hoping to catch the gaze of the Doms who entered the club. There were so many people on the dance floor, it may well have been an orgy in the making with the sweat-glistened bodies mashed together.
I did my best to ignore the stares as Eli and I entered, and just like that I felt his hand on my back, as if to reassure me of his presence.
“Breathe.” The quiet instruction was meant for my ears only. I did as I was told, inhaling deeply and expelling my nerves in a silent push of air. “Good. Just like that.” His praise warmed me, and my stomach settled. I followed him to the bar where he ordered two glasses of club soda and then sat at a table. I stood, uncertain of what he would like me to do. The smile calmed my nerves a bit, and he gestured to the chair beside him.
“I wanted to thank you,” he began.
“Thank me? For what?”
He laced his fingers with mine, and I drew strength from his touch. “During this week you’ve given me so much of yourself, even if I didn’t deserve it.”
I started to speak, but he held up his other hand.
“Let me finish, please. I won’t defend my actions, because I know I was unfair to you and to myself. When we were here last, I saw you there, kneeling on the floor, and everything I’d ever wanted in my life was there. I grabbed it with both hands and didn’t want to let go. The next morning, finding you in my kitchen, having breakfast ready? That was my idea of heaven, because my needs were being met. I was lost in the moment, a perfect bubble that I didn’t want to pop.
“Then a friend of mine told me—twice—that I was being a right bastard to you, and not giving you anything in return. For that, I am truly sorry, and I thank you for giving me the opportunity to make things right between us.”
A sigh of relief slid from me. I’d been walking on eggshells for fear that Eli would realize he’d made a mistake and put me out, but that wasn’t the case at all. I reached into my pocket and felt the strip of leather he’d wrapped around my throat the first night. I wondered if he had any idea how many times a day I touched it, wishing I had earned the right to wear it. I slid it from my pocket and placed it on the table. Eli gave me a curious glance.
“I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed taking care of you. Since Master Phillip died, I’ve been alone, and it took me coming into your house to realize just how lonely I’d been. I would have done anything to stay and make you happy. Submissive, slave, or even just houseboy, I would have done it gladly, because I finally felt whole again.”
Eli picked the collar up and smiled at me. “I know we have a lot to discuss, but for tonight, here at the club, would you wear this for me? I want everyone to see that you’re mine, and I’m very proud of that fact.”
“Yes, Sir. I would be honored.”
He pointed at the floor, a wide grin playing on his face, and I hurried to kneel at Eli’s side, my head down. How I’d missed this position. When Eli touched my neck and slid the collar back where it belonged, I twitched slightly. He stroked my nape with gentle fingers, rubbing gently.
“You’re doing well, pet. I’m very proud to be here with you.”
My heart thumped hard. It had been too long since I’d heard those words. And then it registered: he’d called me pet. Warmth spread out from somewhere deep inside me, filling me, bringing with it a sense of peace. He understood that I wasn’t a boy, and it wouldn’t make sense for him to call me that, but he wanted to show me that he claimed me as his. Warmth infused me. I was Eli’s pet.
Yeah, I could definitely live with that.
“What’s going on here, then?” I heard a lilting voice ask. I tensed.
It was quiet for a moment before Eli replied. “I’m here with my pet. Is there a problem?” There was a new edge to his voice, one I hadn’t heard before.
The man laughed. “He’s pretty old to be a pet. Maybe you should put him down and get a new one.”
My belly rolled over, and my throat tightened. Eli increased the pressure of his hand on my neck. “That’s disrespectful. Would you say something like that to any other Dom?”
So the speaker was a submissive. Something coiled in the pit of my stomach, a feeling of uneasiness and fear.
“I’d be a better sub for you.” His words tasted of arrogance.
I felt the tears welling up. I should have known this was going to happen. Any happiness I’d felt at being Eli’s pet was chewed up and spat out as reality hit hard. That last week had been wonderful, but we couldn’t stay at home all the time. He’d want to go to the clubs. Eli might make the right noises and say it was fine, but I knew that eventually he’d see what everyone else saw. I was an embarrassment to Eli, and no matter where we went, this was going to happen again. And again. So why prolong the inevitable? I pushed up off the floor and turned to him. “I’m sorry, Sir. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
I spun around and fled the club, too mortified to see Eli’s face. The other sub was right. He deserved someone he could show off. It would never be me.
Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C. Wells always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way.
K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, where the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings—writing about men in love was even hotter....
K.C. now writes full time and is loving every minute of her new career.
The laptop still has no idea of what hit it... it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.
Parker Williams began to write as a teen, but never showed his work to anyone. As he grew older, he drifted away from writing, but his love of the written word moved him to reading. A chance encounter with an author changed the course of his life as she encouraged him to never give up on a dream. With the help of some amazing friends, he rediscovered the joy of writing, thanks to a community of writers who have become his family.
Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and Happily Ever After always has a price tag.
Where to find the authors:
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/KCWells/223608907761521
Connect with Parker on: Twitter: @ParkerWAuthor
Or you can visit his website: http://www.ParkerWilliamsAuthor.com
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