Read Flesh Cartel, #8: Loyalties for Free Online Page A

and tongue and breathy little moans of want and need and please, yes, Sir , and this time when he squirmed back ass to crotch, there was no question at all of his intent.
    Time to put a stop to this. He didn’t want to hurt Roger.
    “Be still,” he said, and pulled away, and Roger whined but fell obedient, didn’t chase after his lips or wiggle his hips again. But oh gods, those puppy eyes . Had he been anyone else, Nikolai would’ve slapped the attempt at manipulation right off his face. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Roger, his sweet, beautiful, selfless, loving Roger, and the man wanted , and he was damn well entitled to want after all he’d been through for Nikolai this week.
    “Be still,” he said again, and then he toggled the microphone on his computer and called down to the speaker in the kitchen, “Jeremy, when the new boy gets there, send him to my room.”
    He just hoped he and Roger wouldn’t have to wait long.

“There’s been a change of plans,” Jeremy said without turning when Dougie arrived, flushed and buzzing with excitement, at the door to the kitchen. “You’re to go straight up to the master’s suite. Lucky little shit.”
    Dougie blinked, not sure whether to apologize or what. Had Jeremy meant to say that last bit aloud? Was it okay for him to talk that way? Would Nikolai approve?
    “Don’t think you’re getting out of chores though, little favorite. I’ll be saving my dishes for you. Better hope you don’t have sensitive skin; the last boy I had on dish duty got chapped hands and the master spanked his ass twice as raw for it.” Jeremy may not have been facing Dougie, but Dougie could sense his cruel grin. He wouldn’t be surprised if he found out the guy had been spitting in his food while Nikolai wasn’t looking.
    Not that Dougie hadn’t eaten worse at times. Maybe a little spit wasn’t so bad.
    “Don’t just stand there,” Jeremy said, and the knife in his hand was big enough to send Dougie stumbling back a step. Vegetables. Just chopping vegetables. “Or should I tell the master you decided to keep him waiting?”
    Dougie turned tail and ran.
    Well, half ran. Kind of waddled, more like. The plug up his ass might not’ve been quite as big as Nikolai’s cock, but it sure as heck didn’t make walking easy. He went as fast as he dared. Stumbled once halfway up the stairs. Paused on the landing for a moment trying to remember which one of the many closed doors led to Nikolai’s bedroom.
    Left. Definitely one of the doors on the left. Which narrowed it down to . . . three. Great. He’d only ever been up here twice, and the first time he’d been incoherent. The second time, he’d been on his hands and knees.
    Which, actually, didn’t seem like such a bad idea now. He dropped to his knees, where the hallway looked more familiar. He remembered crawling fifteen, maybe twenty feet last time. Second door, then. Has to be the second.
    He popped back to his feet again to close the distance. No reason to crawl without Nikolai here to enjoy it. Besides, it’d only make him slower. Keep Nikolai waiting. And that was simply unacceptable.
    When he reached what he hoped was the right door, he knocked politely, trying to imitate the perfectly unobtrusive rapping that Roger had mastered.
    “Come in, Douglas,” Nikolai called softly from inside. He didn’t sound angry. In fact, he sounded quite happy, genuinely at ease, and the thought of being called to him under these circumstances filled Dougie with sweet pleasure. More than that—warmth, pride, want . His cock stiffened, tall and proud as the rest of him, as he opened the door and quietly stepped inside, then shut it behind him. This morning had been a test, then—the waiting, and more waiting, and Jeremy’s brusqueness, and the vague order about the plug, all of it—and he’d done well. He’d chosen correctly at every turn. Anticipated his master’s needs. And now his master was rewarding him with his company.