Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
Troy frowned. “Why not?”
Smiling a little, Andreas tapped Troy’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Don’t sulk. It’s for your own good. Think about it for a few days at least. I don’t want to pressure you into doing it.” Something shifted in his expression. “Frankly, it’s very frowned upon to do it with a pleasure servant who isn’t certified in mental pleasure. I’m supposed to hire another servant for something like this.”
Troy’s stomach churned. “I can do it,” he said quickly, tightening his arm around Andreas’s waist. “I want to do it!”
Andreas shook his head. “Three days. I’ll ask you again in three days, and if you still want it, we’ll do it.”
“I don’t see any point in waiting,” Troy said, feeling far more disappointed than he probably should have. “My answer won’t change. Nothing will change in three days.”
“Troy.”
Sighing, Troy nuzzled into his bicep. “Fine,” he said, trying not to frown visibly. He wasn’t sulking, dammit. He was a grown man. “Three days.”
It felt like time dragged forever, and by the end of the third day Troy felt like punching someone. Preferably himself, to knock some sense into his head.
He had ended up being both correct and horribly wrong: his opinion hadn’t changed, but it would be incorrect to say that nothing had. With every passing day, he had felt more jittery and impatient, irrationally paranoid that Andreas would change his mind and decide to employ the services of a professional mind pleasure servant instead of settling on him.
Not that it was any of his business if his Master decided to do it. Of course it wasn’t. Troy understood it. He totally did. But it did nothing to erase the fierce, ugly urge to wrap himself around Andreas and snarl—
Fuck, these possessive thoughts creeped him out. It was a good thing Troy generally wasn’t one to overthink stuff or he would be losing sleep over it. His favorite way of dealing with inconvenient emotions was generally ignoring them until they went away. So he just did his best to ignore those inane thoughts. They didn’t mean anything. The only thing they meant was that he might have gotten a little attached. A teeny bit. A very teeny bit. So teeny that it wasn’t worth stressing over.
Right.
As the evening of the third day rolled around, Troy was prepared. Some would say overprepared, even. He was literally trembling with impatience. Although he had stopped using plugs months ago, he had put one inside him that afternoon. He didn’t think he could wait a single moment after Andreas’s arrival home.
He wanted his Master inside him. He wanted him to touch his telepathic core, stroke it with his own, until he was everywhere. In his every cell. Inside him.
Fuck, why was thinking about it turning him on? He’d never even experienced a telepathic merge; why was he so convinced it would feel amazing? It was the most invasive form of telepathic touch. He should have been scared. Or at least apprehensive. Not inappropriately aroused.
And yet Troy was sporting a full erection by the time Andreas arrived. His Master paused in the doorway of his bedroom, his gaze sharpening as he took in Troy’s agitated, flushed form in his bed. His very naked form.
His gaze fixed on him, Andreas let his black robes drop to the floor, staying only in his black shirt and trousers.
Fuck, he was so hot. His tall, fit body, his angular face and intense brown eyes.
Troy’s cock throbbed, painfully hard.
“That’s a warm welcome,” Andreas murmured.
Troy couldn’t even make himself flirt. Looking him in the eyes, he spread his legs wantonly and slowly pulled the plug out of his hole. Fuck, a part of him—a very distant part of him—couldn’t believe his shameless behavior. If someone had told him seven months ago that he would be spreading his legs so eagerly for another man like the worst kind of cock slut, he’d have punched them.
Yet here he was. Aroused and eager for another man’s cock, meeting him with a plug in his butt like a well-trained whore.
Troy shivered, spreading his thighs wider, perversely enjoying how slutty he felt, enjoying the desire he could read in Andreas’s eyes. He felt sexy. Desirable. It was a heady feeling.
“Get in me,” he said, looking from Andreas’s eyes to the noticeable bulge at the front of his trousers. “Want you inside me when you merge us.”
Andreas’s throat worked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said. “I might lose control that way. I might hurt you.”
Don’t care.
Troy swallowed the stupid words and said something only marginally less stupid. “I trust you.”
Andreas’s gaze seemed to darken. “Don’t be foolish,” he said, but he was already moving forward.
When Andreas’s naked body settled on top of him, Troy moaned in bliss. His moan became high-pitched when Andreas’s cock entered him in one hard thrust. Yes, yes, please. Gods, it was the best fucking feeling in the world: the way he was stretched to his limit, the way Andreas’s cock rubbed against the sensitive walls of his hole. He couldn’t get enough. Surely nothing could feel better than this.