“Where are your manners, Ulric? You’re not showing Faris how much you appreciate his attentions. Not that you deserve them.”
“No, Mistress.”
“Show him. I want him to hear how much you enjoy this.”
“Thank you…oh Goddess…Mistress.” Faris squeezed the globes of Ulric’s ass, the tender skin sending jolts of pleasure through him.
“See, Faris, he likes what you do to him.”
Warmth pressed against his side and hot breath tickled the side of Ulric’s neck. “Do you like that, Ulric? Really?”
Ulric turned his face, his cheek pressing against Faris’ lips. “Yes.”
“Do you…want more?”
“Yes. Please, Faris.”
“Why?”
The words caught in his throat. He couldn’t explain the need, how the pain and pleasure freed him to go to a place where he could simply exist as himself. No commander of armies, or savior of worlds. The expectations were gone and he was left with nothing but himself.
Blissful heaven.
“Enough.” Stella moved closer. “I’ve let things go on too long. Ulric won’t learn anything like this.”
Faris hesitated, his mouth opening enough to allow the tip of his tongue to taste Ulric’s skin. Then he was gone. The sudden absence of heat pulled a groan from Ulric— his physical regret vocalized.
Stella’s firm grasp on his chin again. “Enough. I see tonight you require a firm hand. We’ll be using the bench.”
For the first time since their arrival, Faris moved directly into Ulric’s field of vision.
“What is that?”
“A tool. Something he needs to help him remember. And forget.”
The press of a button and the chains were lowered until Ulric was flat on his feet.
While he hadn’t been stretched out as long as some sessions, the exhaustion of the past several weeks had pushed him to the limits of his control. With his body weak, he lost his balance and stumbled forward.
Faris caught him, strong arms wrapped around his waist and back, holding him tight.
“I have you,” Faris whispered.
Ulric barely managed to resist the temptation to turn his face into Faris’ neck and breathe in the other man’s scent. Instead, he struggled to his feet, the weight from the chain and the spacing bar pulling at his shoulders.
“Come here, Ulric,” Stella commanded. “Faris may help you if you require it.”
“No, Mistress. I can manage on my own.”
Stella let out a soft snort, but still smiled. “I should hope so.”
Eyes down, Ulric shuffled toward Stella and the bench. He knew the immediate relief of being able to sit and rest would be short lived. Soon his mind would slip back into the dark places, the home of his guilt.
“Stop. Look how clumsy you are. It’s really pathetic to see. Hold out your hands.”
Stella’s nimble fingers made quick work of the spacing bar.
The clang and echo of the metal on the floor shocked him from his silent berating.
The relief in his shoulders was immediate as she slowly lowered his arms to his sides.
He was about to shift into position, when she stopped him with a hand. His heart leapt as she reached over to grab the scented oil. Pouring a generous amount into the palm of her hand, Stella rubbed firm circles into his weary shoulders and biceps. As the tension seeped out of him, Ulric knew he would be able to continue.
Stopping only after every knot and kink had been worked out, Stella lifted his chin with her thumb and forefinger. “You know what I need you to do.”
There was an odd change in her voice—one Ulric didn’t want to dwell on too long.
It sounded too close to caring—the one thing she’d insisted would never happen between them. Instead, he walked to the bench and climbed on top. It was awkward with the cage around his cock, but still manageable.
Ulric pressed his chest to the cool leather of the bench, the pressure increased because of the clamps on his nipples. The divots for his knees were well formed, a comfortable cushion for his joints. Lifting his ass high in the air, knees spread wide, Ulric reached beneath the bench and locked his hands together.
He was totally exposed, on display for both Stella and Faris to see. For once, the silence in the room unnerved him. Stella had seen him like this many times before, had done more than simply tie, flog and abandon him. But Faris—he’d never been a witness to anything like this before. Ulric knew of the younger man’s upbringing on Tensa, the limited exposure he had to the world of sensuality or sexuality. They’d developed a close friendship over the course of their time together. Faris had been an influencing factor in the decisions he’d made during the occupation negotiations and the subsequent attack. Faris didn’t need to vocalize his guilt for Ulric to recognize it. They were too much alike.
But he couldn’t guarantee Faris would understand this.
Turning his face away, Ulric felt a flush heat his skin. Goddess, he’d long ago stopped being ashamed of what he needed, despite the negative view the Loyalist government had of this particular need. Stella had helped him accept who he truly was without regret.
“Ulric!” Stella marched to his side and landed a hard slap to the back of his thigh.
“You’re turning away from me?” Another slap. “Look at me now.”
Confused by the swirl of emotions raging through him, Ulric lifted his head and turned his face toward them. Tears returned to his eyes, but stubbornly refused to spill over. Thankfully, instead of Faris, all he could see were the tight leather laces along the front of Stella’s boots. The bindings held everything together—the glue that kept his world from flying apart.
But he could feel himself slipping.
Long fingernails gently scratched across his scalp, as Stella moved closer. “What did they do to you?” Her words were barely a whisper.
“Please…” He no longer knew what he was begging for. All he could do was trust Stella did and put his faith in her. She had always understood him better than he did himself.
“I’ll take care of you.” A fingertip caressed the shell of his ear. “I always do.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Ulric closed his eyes and waited.
Chapter Three
Faris swallowed hard as his mind tried to work out what the fuck was going on.
He’d been relegated to the role of observer—one he’d always had great difficulty mastering. Action was what he needed, craved. It was also the one thing he was unlikely to get here.
He’d worked hard to capture the role of the ambassador’s prime. He was Ambassador Gravlin’s second-in-command and key advisor on the political workings in this sector. Gravlin had always commented on Faris’ ability to size up a situation quickly and accurately, and wanted to use his skills, choosing him for the role over older men.
It was exciting, and took him to places he’d never been able to go to otherwise—it had led him to Ulric. God, his ass looks so red like that. This continued forward momentum had been the focus of the last few years of his life. To sit and do nothing felt wrong.
“I’ll take care of you. I always do.”
And then there was this.
How had he not known about this woman and her role in Ulric’s life? Ulric had become a mentor of sorts since his arrival on the ship—offering advice and his unique perspective when dealing with the various government officials involved. He’d also become a friend. Maybe even something a little more if Faris was being honest with himself. But this?
It explained the rare nights when Ulric would disappear and Faris couldn’t find him. Ulric always looked settled, more centered when he reappeared the next day. It couldn’t be because of this though. Could it?