Duck! Page 12

  “That’s enough.”

  Ori jumped as Raynard’s words cut through the silence of the room. He had no idea how long he’d been working away at the lines. A few of the pages were full now, but he wasn’t anywhere near the total that had been prescribed.

  He stared as Raynard rose from his chair by the fire. He crossed the room, took the pen and the paper from Ori, and locked them away in his desk drawer again.

  Ori stayed in his seat by the table, waiting for an order, for some indication of what might happen next. Turning the key in the lock on the drawer seemed to change Raynard’s mood.

  When he turned his attention back to Ori, a slight smile graced his lips. Wary of returning it, just in case he was somehow misinterpreting the situation, Ori stayed serious. Raynard crossed the room to him. He slid his fingers through Ori’s hair, tightened his grip on the strands and guided Ori to tilt his head back and look up at him properly.

  “Tired, fledgling?” Raynard asked.

  Ori shook his head, tugging roughly at his own hair in the process.

  Raynard raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Not too tired to…” Ori blushed. Ever since his master first allowed him to go down on him, not a day had passed when they hadn’t had sex—when Ori hadn’t either tasted Raynard on his tongue or felt him thrust deep inside him as he came.

  Ori might not have been allowed to find his own pleasure every day, but he’d always served and serviced his master. Except for yesterday. Ori’s hand clenched into a fist at his side. He wasn’t at all inclined to lose that time with his master as well as their chaste little moments in front of the fire.

  Raynard traced a fingertip gently down Ori’s cheek, but he shook his head. “No.”

  Ori looked up, just in time to see Raynard’s eyes wander across his battered skin.

  Heat raced to Ori’s cheeks. He couldn’t blame his master for thinking he looked like hell. He was right.

  Rising to his feet, Ori’s only thought was to retreat to the servants’ quarters as quickly as possible. He’d leave his master in peace, and perhaps he’d find some way of getting over his embarrassment before he had to face Raynard again in the morning.

  With all the speed of a true hawk, Raynard caught hold of Ori’s good arm before Ori had a chance to scurry from his sight.

  “Do you really think I could be put off so easily?” Raynard asked, pulling Ori back until their bodies were pressed tightly together.

  Raynard’s erection rubbed against Ori’s backside through Raynard’s trousers. Ori hesitated. He tried to look over his shoulder, but Raynard’s grip on him wouldn’t allow it.

  “I told you before that you’re not a servant in some stupid gentlemen’s club any more, Ori. You belong to me. I’m your master. I’m responsible for you. Do you understand that?” Impatience made each word harsh.

  Ori would have nodded, but Raynard slid a hand underneath Ori’s chin and held his head back so it rested against his shoulder, preventing the gesture.

  “Yes, sir,” Ori managed to whisper.

  “And that means you’ll be taught to behave in the way I expect. It means you’ll be punished when you make mistakes. And it means I’ll think with my brain and not my cock when I decide what should happen between us. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Don’t expect me to fawn over you while you’re receiving a punishment. And don’t expect me to cling to any anger I may feel when the lines are locked away.”

  Ori closed his eyes as relief rushed through him. “I understand, sir.”

  “Good. You can stop thinking you can screw your way back into my good graces while you’re still paying for your mistakes, too.”

  Ori swallowed, his throat working rapidly beneath his master’s hand. “Yes, sir.”

  “Bed, now.” Raynard sent him on his way with a sharp tap on his backside, catching him neatly between the bruises from his fall.

  In the hallway, Ori hesitated.

  “Upstairs, until you’re told otherwise,” Raynard shouted after him.

  He was still earning his forgiveness, there was no way in hell his master was going to do anything more than tease him until he’d finished every last line. Ori wouldn’t even get a healthy dose of second-hand pleasure when he was allowed to go down on Raynard. But Ori was still glad his master had decided that he’d be allowed to sleep next to him.

  * * * * *

  “Ori?”

  Ori closed his eyes. He’d never thought he could hate anything about Raynard, but he loathed knowing his master was displeased with him far more than he could ever have detested any punishment the men in the nest had been able to come up with.

  A whipping would have been so much kinder than this. The flesh on his back was far less important to him than Raynard’s good opinion of him. Ori understood that now.

  “Is there a reason why you’ve stopped?” Raynard asked. Even his tone of voice was different when the lines were on the table.

  Ori swallowed down his nerves. “One thousand, sir.”

  He’d neatly numbered every line, all the way down the side of each page. After checking them twice, he no longer harboured any doubts. He had written out exactly one thousand lines, and he’d never been more petrified in his life.

  “Come here.”

  Somehow, Ori forced himself to stand up and carry the pages he’d filled with words across to his master. When he reached him, Ori wasn’t sure if he was permitted to kneel for him or not. He stood uselessly before the fire, shuffling his feet against the hearth rug.

  Raynard held out a hand. Ori offered him the lines. Raynard slowly looked through each page, seeming to read each often repeated word one at a time.

  Without any way to release his nerves, all Ori could do was get more and more anxious. He folded his arms across his chest, cradling the sore wrist against his body. The bandage around his other arm had been dispensed with a day or two before. The dining room was cleaned and polished to within an inch of its life.

  The only evidence of Ori’s mistakes lingered in his master’s hand.

  When he looked up, Ori realised that Raynard’s attention had moved away from the paper. He was staring straight at Ori now. When Raynard stood up, Ori remained frozen in place, unable to even step back and get out of his way.

  Raynard handed him the lines. “Burn them.”

  “Sir?”

  Raynard looked toward the fireplace. Ori followed his gaze. He stared into the flames for a long time. The order was very simple. There was no excuse for failing to obey it instantly, but his hand didn’t want to cooperate.

  The lines were supposed to fix something. In some way that he hadn’t quite been sure of, they were supposed to make everything better. That was what had kept him going through each evening while he’d been banished to the other side of the room in disgrace. When he finished the lines, somehow everything would be okay.

  The most valuable possession my master owns is his submissive. I will take great care that no harm comes to my master’s submissive whenever he is not there to watch over me himself.

  Ori briefly closed his eyes before sacrificing the papers to the flames. The dry sheets caught quickly. In what felt like seconds, every word had been consumed, and Ori’s hopes of them healing the rift between his master and himself along with them.

  The most valuable possession my master owns is his submissive. I will take great care that no harm comes to my master’s submissive whenever he is not there to watch over me himself.

  Raynard placed his hand on Ori’s shoulder as he moved to stand directly behind him. With the heat of the fire in front of him, and the warmth of his master’s body against his back, it would have been so easy for Ori to fall into the trap of believing that the comfort that surrounded him made everything okay, but nothing was okay. As Ori stared into the fire, he was overwhelmed by the deep and inescapable knowledge that nothing would ever be okay again.

 
The most valuable possession my master owns is his submissive. I will take great care that no harm comes to my master’s submissive whenever he is not there to watch over me himself.

  “You took your punishment well.”

  Ori swallowed down his emotions and closed his eyes.

  “Speak up, fledgling.”

  “I hated it, sir.” There was no excuse for the words, but there was no way he could keep them back either. If the punishment had fixed something, it might have been worth it, but as things still stood between them…

  The most valuable possession my master owns is his submissive. I will take great care that no harm comes to my master’s submissive whenever he is not there to watch over me himself.

  Raynard’s fingers stroked through Ori’s hair, tugging him back to lean against a larger, stronger body. “It wouldn’t be a very effective punishment if you didn’t hate it, would it?”

  Raynard had barely finished the sentence before he stepped away, leaving Ori alone and unsupported on the hearth rug.

  Ori watched Raynard re-take his seat. He settled himself comfortably, then, against all of Ori’s fears, he glanced at the cushion on the floor at his feet. Ori rushed to kneel there, hope hastening back as quickly as it had deserted him.

  Raynard smiled and stroked one knuckle down Ori’s cheek. “You’re expected to learn from your mistakes, but not to dwell on them after they’ve been dealt with. Understand?”

  Ori nodded, very quickly, and turned his head into his master’s touch. Raynard chuckled as Ori leaned so far he almost lost his balance. The sound was rich and perfect. Even as Ori ducked his head in embarrassment, he found himself smiling cautiously up at Raynard.

  Ori was back with the version of his master that existed when there was no penance in force and, with the lines consigned to the flames, there was no way they could sneak back out of the desk drawer and ruin things between them again.

  The most valuable possession my master owns is his submissive. I will take great care that no harm comes to my master’s submissive whenever he is not there to watch over me himself.

  Gathering up his courage, Ori placed his hand on the inside of his master’s knee. Raynard seemed to consider the suggestion very carefully before shaking his head. Ori snatched his hand back, not sure how he could have misread the situation so appallingly. Raynard had his fingers wrapped around Ori’s wrist before he had a chance to retreat too far.

  “I think we can do better than that, can’t we, fledgling?”

  “Sir?”

  Raynard brushed the thumb of his other hand across Ori’s lips before rising to his feet, pulling Ori up alongside him. “Let’s see if we can’t find a better way to celebrate you being properly back in my good graces, shall we?”

  Ori nodded rapidly, making Raynard chuckle again.

  Raynard glanced at the fire. “Put everything in order before you join me upstairs.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There wasn’t much to do except damp down the fire and switch off the lights. All trace of the aches and pains that had filled Ori’s body while he was being punished were a distant memory now. He raced through his evening chores, eager to go to his master as quickly as possible.

  The most valuable possession my master owns is his submissive. I will take great care that no harm comes to my master’s submissive whenever he is not there to watch over me himself.

  When he reached Raynard’s bedroom door, Ori found it closed. Unable to raise enough daring to push it open without an invitation, he knocked politely against one of the dark wooden panels.

  “Enter.”

  Nudging the door ajar, Ori slipped inside. His master stood on the far side of the room by a big oak coffer. Once upon a time, it had contained old blankets. Raynard had ordered Ori to empty it weeks ago, but Ori had never seen what Raynard had refilled it with. As Ori watched, Raynard pulled a set of leather cuffs out of the coffer and placed them on the top of the chest of drawers to his right.

  Minutes ticked past. Raynard brought more and more leather out of the coffer and scattered it on top of the chest of drawers.

  Ori had seen some of the toys that the higher-ranking shifters liked to play with while he was serving at the nest. Some of the more middling ranks had even brought him into their experiments with them. He swallowed rapidly as the memory of the leather moving around his limbs rushed back and entwined itself with the knowledge he already had of his master.

  Raynard’s words in the library had Ori’s cock hard and aching long before he reached the bedroom, but the idea of Raynard and the leather together raced to his shaft, making him stiffen and rise even further, until he could almost believe he’d come right there, while everything he longed for was still on the other side of the room.

  Raynard finally glanced over his shoulder. Setting down a blindfold next to the cuffs, he beckoned him across the room.

  Ori rushed to Raynard’s side, but Raynard shook his head when he would have lowered himself to his knees. Stepping around him, Raynard ran his hands down Ori’s arms, tugging his hands behind him.

  He guided him to wrap his right hand around his left wrist. A moment later, Raynard nudged his shoe against the inside of Ori’s ankles, prompting him to spread his legs a little farther apart.

  Moving to stand in front of Ori once more, Raynard tapped the back of his fingers under Ori’s chin. “In the future, whenever you’re waiting for an order, you’re to stand exactly like this.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “There’s no reason to keep your eyes on the floor unless you think there’s something there that you might trip over.”

  Ori was about to say the wrong thing. Just in time, he changed the answer to—“Yes, sir”.

  Somehow, Raynard still seemed to know that it hadn’t been his first, instinctive response. From the hawkish look in his eyes, Ori was sure Raynard would stare at him for as long as it took to get the answer he wanted.

  “In the nest, some of the men said that the lower orders shouldn’t look their betters in the eye,” Ori whispered. He’d never been very good at following that directive when it came to Raynard. Standing there and admitting he’d known the rule but hadn’t obeyed it was just about the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  “They were wrong.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s not about that.” The words were slow, as if Raynard was thinking about the matter carefully and choosing his words very deliberately.

  Ori glanced up at him through his lashes.

  Raynard’s knuckles fell away from Ori’s chin, and stroked down the centre of his chest in an idle caress.

  “It’s about each man finding a place in the world that suits his nature. Do you think you’d enjoy being in charge of a gentleman’s club like the nest, giving out orders and taking responsibility for all the men under your control every time they stepped into the building?”

  Ori shook his head.

  “Do you think you’d like to be responsible for putting an estate like my uncle’s in order, taking over all his business interests and managing all those things a man needs to control when he takes up the reins of one of the leading avian families in the city?”

  Ori shook his head even more forcefully.

  Raynard smiled. He continued to stroke his fingertips over Ori’s skin, almost absentmindedly—the way a man might stroke a favoured pet—one that he liked to fuss over, but that was still a pet for all that. “That’s not because you’re not good enough to do it, it’s because it’s not in your nature to want those things. There’s nothing wrong with men who prefer to follow rather than lead. They have their strengths, too.”

  Their eyes met. Ori couldn’t look away. He’d never seen his master more serious, not even during his punishment. The whole concept was important to him. Ori nodded his understanding, even if he wasn’t really sure he did comprehend everything Raynard wanted to explain to him.

  Raynard’s expression
gradually changed as he seemed to set aside serious things, perhaps to be revisited at a later date. “There’s nothing wrong with a man who prefers to be bound rather than to bind other people, either,” he whispered in Ori’s ear, his tone quickly turning teasing.

  Ori took a deep breath as Raynard picked up the leather cuffs. Holding the restraints between them so Ori could see them clearly, Raynard ran his fingers over the leather.

  “Have you ever been bound, Ori?”

  He nodded. “At the nest, sir. Some of the other shifters liked to practice on me.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “I’ll like it when you do it, sir,” Ori promised.

  Raynard raised an eyebrow. “Answer the original question properly, fledgling.”

  “Sometimes, sir.”

  “But not at other times?”

  “I don’t think I was supposed to enjoy it those times, sir,” Ori observed, trying to make the words sound as neutral as possible.

  Raynard nodded. He seemed to be aware of everything Ori didn’t say as well as what he did.

  “Now that you’re with me, you’re always supposed to enjoy your leather.”

  Ori nodded.

  “Over time, you’ll learn that these cuffs will keep you exactly where I want you. They mean you belong to me, and that’ll always be a good thing, won’t it?”

  Ori nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

  Dipping his head, Raynard brushed their lips together. Ori tried to open his mouth in invitation, but Raynard had no need of one. He kissed him like he owned him, as if he wanted to remind Ori that he knew he owned him, and that would never change.

  A moan escaped from the back of Ori’s throat. His right hand tightened around his opposite wrist behind his back as he leaned into the kiss. Raynard pulled him closer, so their bodies were pressed tightly together.

  Ori rose up on his toes as he tried to bring them nearer still. Raynard smiled into the kiss, easily keeping them both balanced when Ori would have toppled them.