More Than a Pet (MM) Tasty Teasers
AVAILABLE: Tuesday, August
[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative
Paranormal Consensual BDSM Romance, M/M, vampires, HEA]
The Dom War changed the world. Without the
blood pets provide, masters die. Without the safe haven masters provide, pets
die. But the fight over pets is a constant battle that grows more dangerous with
each passing second.
Remsen Marrik doesn't know what to do when
he inherits a pet from a man he has always been enemies with. Giving Boy up
isn't an option because hunters are after the sweet little pet. But can he
settle for someone he never chose?
Boy is a pet. He's been one for as long as
he can remember. When his old master is killed, Boy is sent to Marrik, the one
master that might be able to keep him safe from the hunters that are after him.
But Marrik is unlike any master Boy has ever had, and the rules Boy has always
followed have changed. Can Boy learn to trust in this new master who seems to
want more from him than any master ever has, or will his own fears place him
right into the hands of the hunters?
“Are you Marrik?”
Marrik glanced over at the man that spoke, surprised by the softness of the voice he heard until he saw the small, thin man standing beside him. Then it made sense. No man that regularly inhabited the bar Marrik was in spoke so demurely. It could get someone killed.
There was one exception, and he stood in front of Marrik, his head bowed, eyes looking down at the floor as all pets should do. Meeting a master’s eyes could be seen as a challenge for power, and that got people killed.
“I’m Marrik,” he replied slowly. He was intrigued as to what this pet wanted. While it wasn’t unusual for a pet to approach him, it was unusual for one to speak before given permission to do so. It was very unpet-like.
Marrik sat up straighter and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared the man down. “Who wants to know?” he asked, curious to find out because not many people knew his first name. Everyone just called him Marrik.
Marrik was shocked by the glint of desperation in the milky-green eyes that darted up to meet his for a brief second. The man’s entire body shook, and he looked ready to pass out on the floor. He was clearly terrified.
“Yes,” Marrik said, softening his reply when the man’s anxiety came through in his distressed whisper, “I’m Remsen Marrik.”
The relief that came over the man was immediate. His shoulders slumped as if a large weight had been lifted from them. His eyes closed briefly then dropped back down to the floor when they opened up again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white envelope, handing it over.
Marrik almost fell out of his seat when the man knelt down on the floor at his feet. He sat back, raising his arms out of the way as he watched the man wiggle under the table between his legs to lay his head down on Marrik’s leg.
The man let out a contented little sigh, and all of the tension in his body seemed to fade away right before Marrik’s eyes. The little guy looked happy as fuck to be right where he sat—between Marrik’s legs. Marrik would be lying if he said there wasn’t something he liked about the man sitting there.
As the man snuggled in, Marrik remembered the envelope he held in his hand. Curious, he broke the wax seal and opened it up, pulling a piece of tan parchment paper free. He frowned as he opened it up and read it.
Dear Remsen Marrik,
I would be the first to say that you and I don’t see eye-to-eye on almost anything. We’ve even had our fair share of differences over the years. However, I have never seen you as anything other than an honorable adversary.
That being said, there is no one I feel I can entrust my precious treasure to except you. I know that you will protect my Boy with everything in you. If you’re reading this letter, something has happened to me and I am no longer able to care for him. My Boy is special, and many people want him for their own nefarious purposes, and I hope you will keep him safe.
Boy is a gentle soul that needs a firm hand, guidance, and a safe place to be. I hope that you can provide that for him. I have informed Boy that he now belongs to you and must serve you as he served me. He understands his duties. His personal contract has been amended, and your name now replaces mine as his master.
I am trusting you with my most valuable possession, Marrik. Don’t fuck it up.
Marrik’s mouth dropped open, and he stared down at the man kneeling between his legs as shock flew through him like a freight train. He had inherited a boy, a pet? He didn’t know if he had ever heard of such a thing.
“What is your name?”
“I am called Boy, Master.”
Christ! That word went straight to Marrik’s cock and made him hard as a rock. He always preferred that his pets call him master as opposed to sir. It made him feel powerful, in control. Whispered from this sweet boy’s lips and it made him feel like a king.
“Do you have another name besides Boy?” Marrik asked. While he didn’t have a problem calling the little pet Boy, it would be helpful for him to have another name to call him, a real name.
“No, Master.” Boy shook his head, still not meeting Marrik’s eyes. “I’ve always been called Boy.”
“Well, we’ll figure that out later.” Marrik stroked his hand through the man’s strawberry blond curls, surprised when the man leaned into the small caress as if starved for affection. “Now, tell me what happened to your master.”
Milky-green eyes shot up to Marrik’s then back down to the floor. Boy’s body began to tremble as his fingers plucked at the thin material of his brown cotton shirt.
“I thought you were my master,” he murmured quietly.
Marrik tightened his fingers into the man’s hair and gave a small tug, not enough to cause pain but enough to get Boy’s attention. “Answer the question, Boy.”
“I’m sorry, Master.” Boy rubbed his cheek against Marrik’s leg.
Marrik allowed it for a moment before yanking on Boy’s hair again. “I won’t ask again, Boy. Answer the question before I get angry.”
“My former master was killed.” A soft sniffle followed this statement.
Boy sniffled again, a little louder this time. “They tried to take me from him.”
“Who?” Marrik asked. The letter he received from Jonathan Simpson was slowly starting to make sense.
“I don’t know, Master,” Boy replied. “My…my former master—”
“Master Jonathan,” Marrik supplied. He wanted there to be some distinction between him and Jonathan Simpson. The sigh of relief that came from Boy brought a small smile to Marrik’s face. It seemed Boy needed the distinction, too.
“Finish telling me what happened to Master Jonathan, Boy.”
“They attacked the house, and Master Jonathan got injured. He knew they were coming, though. He gave me that letter and told me that I needed to run until I found you, and you would be my new master.”
That was just peachy.
“Take your clothes off. I want to see you.”
Boy swallowed hard and reached for the hem of his shirt. He knew since Marrik was now his master that the man could demand this of him, but no one had ever seen him naked except for Master Jonathan. To say he was nervous was an understatement. Boy was scared out of his mind.
He pulled his shirt off and neatly folded it on the bar top then reached for the buttons of his pants. Boy stepped out of his shoes and then pushed his pants down his legs. He folded his pants, grabbed his shirt, and placed them both on top of his shoes.
Then he stood and waited.
“Stand back so I can see you.”
Boy swallowed again. His throat seemed to be getting dryer with each passing moment. He took a step back then another one and another one until he stood naked in the middle of the room. Boy was too terrified to look up and see Marrik’s reaction. The man could still sell his contract to a stranger if he found Boy unappealing.
When Marrik walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, Boy started to drop to his knees until Marrik’s deep voice filled the room.
“I did not tell you to kneel, Boy.”
It took every last drop of Boy’s courage to stay standing and drop his hands to his sides as he was supposed to. There was a lot that went into being someone’s pet. The main thing was knowing what was proper and what was not. Standing at attention had been drilled into his head at a very early age. It was just nerve racking to do it stark-ass naked when he was being looked over by his new master like a prized horse.
Boy turned around as carefully as he could, considering his knees were shaking so bad he thought they might give out on him.
Boy almost squeaked when he heard Marrik stand up behind him. He pressed his lips together when Marrik’s fingers trailed down his back.
“Did Master Jonathan give these to you?”
Boy nodded. He knew Marrik was referring to the faded whip marks on his back. Master Jonathan had a heavy hand.
“I don’t like marks, Boy.”
Gods, Boy hoped not. He understood that there were times that he needed to be punished, but he hated being whipped. Maybe that was why Master Jonathan did it, because Boy hated it so much. If he had liked it, it wouldn’t be a punishment.
“You will be punished if I deem it necessary, but I will not leave marks.” Boy almost jumped when he felt Marrik’s fingers trail down his back then over the curve of his rounded ass. “I prefer your skin to be smooth and silky.”
Okay, good to know. Boy nodded his understanding, suddenly glad that he hadn’t been given permission to speak. He’d be screaming. Marrik’s hands moving over his ass were driving him to distraction.
“Suck my cock, Boy.”
Boy’s eyes widened at the clear demand. He quickly turned and dropped to his knees at Marrik’s feet, reaching for the buttons on the man’s pants. His fingers trembled as he unbuttoned Marrik’s pants and pulled the edges apart until the man’s hard cock popped free.
Damn! The man went commando.
Boy swallowed hard then leaned forward to flick his tongue across the tip of Marrik’s cock. Pearly beads of pre-cum blasted across his tongue. It was all Boy could do not to groan at the exquisite taste. Marrik was tart with a small hint of something elusive, but something that drew Boy to want more.
“Look at me, Boy.”
Boy’s eyes snapped up to meet Marrik’s. It was something he wasn’t used to. Master Jonathan never let him look up when he was giving a blow job. He was to either keep his eyes closed or look down. This was new, and it made Boy’s stomach give an anxious roll.
“You will always look at me when you suck my cock, Boy,” Marrik ordered as he gripped a handful of Boy’s hair. “I want you to know whose cock is in your mouth.”
Boy would have nodded, but he was too busy swallowing down as much of Marrik’s impressive length as he could get into his mouth. Boy enjoyed sucking cock because he had no gag reflex to speak of. It allowed him to suck almost any man down his throat. He had been told he was very good at it.
He just hoped Marrik approved.
Using every skill he had ever learned while with Master Jonathan, Boy swallowed the man down again until he felt the head of Marrik’s cock hit the back of his throat. He swallowed hard then took another couple of inches until he felt his nose brush against Marrik’s pubic hair.
Boy sucked his cheeks in and slowly pulled back, giving Marrik’s hard cock as much suction as he could manage. Once he reached the head again, Boy used his tongue to curve around the underside of the head then licked away the small drops of pre-cum pooling in the small slit on the top.
The more he sucked and licked, the tighter Marrik’s fingers curled into his hair. When Boy pulled off of Marrik’s cock and leaned down further to suck on the man’s ball sac, Marrik groaned and started thrusting his hips.
Boy felt like a king.