Read Flesh Cartel, #8: Loyalties for Free Online

just broth and apple juice, but still the first nourishment to pass his lips in ten days. Looking grim and determined, too. “I told you it’d all be worth it.”
    “You did,” Nikolai agreed—out loud, anyway. Secretly, he still wasn’t so sure; certainly, they’d achieved their ends, but the means had come at a steep price. “What would I do without you?”
    “Waste away and die, probably.”
    Nikolai laughed at the playful tone, but stilled himself with a mental kick as Roger hissed. He must’ve jarred something particularly painful. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a stronger painkiller, Roger? Morphine? I can give you something to take the edge off the nausea too. You can rest.”
    Roger wiggled a little, settling himself more firmly in Nikolai’s lap, ass rubbing hard—but so briefly it might’ve been unintentional—against Nikolai’s crotch. “You’re the best painkiller of all, Sir.” He wrapped both hands around Nikolai’s forearms where they rested on his belly, and added, “I’d hate to—”
    Nikolai wondered for a moment how he meant to finish that sentence, but then Roger blushed clear to the tips of his ears and Nikolai understood: I’d hate to fall asleep through one second of this.
    “I’d still be here when you wake up,” Nikolai tried. He hated knowing that his own workaholic habits had made moments like these so rare and precious that Roger would rather suffer to have them than not suffer and risk missing them. Nikolai might be a good trainer—the best, even—but the hard truth was that he wasn’t a very good master sometimes.
    Roger made no reply to Nikolai’s attempt to sway him, and Nikolai allowed the silence. He buried his nose in Roger’s freshly washed hair, inhaled deeply, and went back to watching the monitor over the top of Roger’s head.
    Despite refusing the stronger painkillers, it didn’t take long for Roger’s breathing to even out and his fingers to go slack on Nikolai’s arms. Nikolai was sure he was sleeping, but then Roger murmured, half-slurred, “Look, Sir,” and pointed vaguely toward the picture-in-picture.
    Nikolai had been watching Mathias—he’d practically licked his tray clean and then dragged his ridiculously stubborn ass onto the treadmill, even if it was only going at a slow but grueling walk—so he’d failed to notice Douglas finally picking out a plug. He couldn’t quite tell which one it was from the tiny picture, so he hit the key to flip the images around just in time to see something curvy and blue disappearing into the boy’s ass. There were only two blue plugs in Douglas’s room, and one of them was far too large to have slotted in so neatly without preparation. Which meant the boy had chosen the mid-sized one. The one just half an inch shorter and a sliver thinner than Nikolai’s own cock. The one that would leave him well prepared for Nikolai, but not so loose as to be disappointing.
    Nikolai felt a grin spread clear cross his face.
    What a good, bright boy you are.
    Even poor sleepy Roger seemed to perk up a bit, watching him.
    Nikolai slid his hand back up beneath the hem of Roger’s shirt and stroked warm circles on his bare stomach. “Would you like to have him?” he offered. The mere thought of watching Roger and Douglas together made his cock firm against Roger’s ass.
    Roger expertly non-answered with, “If it would make you happy, Sir.” And then, when Nikolai’s hand stilled—a clear warning he wanted truth, not pandering, “He’s very, very pretty, Sir. And clever. A thoughtful boy. He has a good heart.” Nikolai started stroking again, and Roger added with a shrug, “But, he’s not . . .”
    You. He’s not you , Sir.
    Nikolai’s heart (and other crucial parts of his anatomy, truth be told) swelled so hard at that he couldn’t help himself—he cupped Roger’s chin, turned his head to the side, and kissed him.
    Roger opened so fast beneath him it was as if the man had simply melted , all lips