A Royal Rebellion (14 page)

“Ah, yes, I recall. The late Baron Reynard created quite a scandal all those years ago when he bought that male breeder. One of the first to be made, too. He even named it!” Lucius smiled. Abe’s glacial demeanor was so full of subtle, thrumming violence that it filled the hall. “He bought it from Heritage, too, if I’m not mistaken. What a terribly small world. Does the young lad in there know you are the child of one of the first male breeders ever created, Baron Abelard Toussaint Reynard?”

“No, he does not,” Abe breathed out, voice made of menace. “And you’ll not tell him, either.”

“Ashamed of your heritage?”

“Never.”

“How strange then that you don’t want him to know. No worries, I’ll figure it out. I always learn the truth eventually.”

“Which is why you were exiled in the first place, Luke. Maybe you should take a hint?” Mason said, and Lucius laughed at him.

“Good point, dear boy. Are you ready then? I can’t wait to see how fast your next video hits the national news.”

Mason took Abe’s hand. “Come on, Abe. Luke has more security in this mausoleum than Father does on the Treasury. The house is secure, and you have the SUV keys. Eddie and the little mouse are too wrapped up in each other to get in trouble or run away. You can hover over them while they have sex—as I’m sure you’ve done before, you deviant—or you can come with me.”

“And you’ll be doing what?” Abe asked, but he followed Mason when he tugged on his hand. Mason twined their fingers together and Abe walked at his shoulder, like they did when they first met, all those long years ago.

“I made another video, but this one is special. I uploaded all the content from this,” Mason held up the portable hard drive, and Abe’s eyes went wide when he recognized it.

“That’s the drive you stored all the information you stole from your father. Your sisters’ medical records, the sterility tests for you and Malcolm, the paternity tests for Camilla’s and Arianna’s children, and Queen Esme’s journals. I thought you said King Henry destroyed it years ago.”

“I told you that to keep you safe from him,” Mason confessed, pausing as they walked down the hall, turning to Abe. “If you thought it was still out there, you would have searched for it, and Father would have noticed. I couldn’t risk you. Your decision to accept his offer to work in the royal guard almost broke my resolve! Abe, goddammit. It took too much to get you on Edward’s protection detail and out of the capital to Hartgrove, I wasn’t going to waste it all by having you hunt for the drive.”

“I wanted to use it to free us both!” Abe hissed, blue eyes full of stifled anger and frustration. Mason sighed, and leaned his weight into Abe, trying to bring some comfort to his lover.

“I know. But Abe, sweetheart…” Abe’s lips twitched at the endearment, and Mason grinned, “Abe, we are both free. Right now, totally free. In danger for our lives, but that’s not so new for us. The freedom is though, and I’m going to use the drive to bring down the fortress of lies King Henry has built around himself and our family.”

“Twenty years,” Abe said to him, somber. Mason nodded, agreeing. Abe continued, his deep voice a sexy rumble that sent shivers down Mason’s spine. “Twenty years I’ve waited to call you mine. Two decades of watching you bend until you broke to your father’s will, his threats against me and Edward. Helpless to save you or stop him. I did everything I could short of murder to help you, keep you going. Though if it wouldn’t have meant I’d be in jail for regicide, I would have killed Henry when you came to me as that scared fifteen year old, beaten and bloody for confronting his father.”

“Mmmm…and let on to the world that I was dating a twenty year old soldier stationed at the palace barracks? Smart,” Mason murmured, kissing Abe on his neck just below his ear. “That would have made everything sooooo much better. Arrested for regicide and statutory rape.”

A hand landed in his hair at the back of his head, and Mason found himself trapped between the wall and all six-foot four inches of rock-solid former special ops soldier. He gasped, the grip tight, just this side of pain, and Abe put a hard thigh between his legs, lifting until he was pressing against Mason’s groin. Mason went limp, letting Abe have his way, and his lover grumbled and pushed harder with his leg, lifting Mason an inch off the floor. Mason was sitting on Abe’s thigh, his cock and balls firmly wedged against hot, firm flesh.

“I fucked you when you were how old, Mason?” Abe growled in his ear, nipping at the tender flesh he found there.

“I was…I was eighteen when you fucked me the first time,” Mason gasped, trying to tip his head to the side so Abe could have better access.

“Mmm…..wasn’t it your birthday present?” Abe bit down on the skin between shoulder and neck, and Mason’s cock joined the fun, straining against Abe’s leg.

“Best birthday ever,” Mason agreed, melting into a puddle of liquid heat as Abe’s free hand wandered down his chest, all the way to his waistband. Mason sucked in a breath, and Abe’s fingers deftly opened his fly, and slipped inside. Abe palmed his cock, stroking it base to tip with his hot hand.

“Fuck,” Mason swore, eyes rolling back at the pleasure swamping his senses.

“This is mine, Mason,” Abe said in his ear, the words making him shiver. “Just as your heart is mine. Isn’t that right, my prince?”

“Always yours,” Mason agreed, as Abe’s strokes grew firmer, more demanding. Precum oozed from the slit and Mason whined deep in his throat as Abe’s thumb brushed through it, spreading it over the crown of his cock. “Body, heart, soul, all yours.”

It didn’t take Abe long to get him off. Mason missed his lover more than words could express, their lives a horrible mixture of quick, desperate rendezvous and snatched kisses in the palace halls. Too long denied Abe’s touch, Mason came after a handful of strokes, Abe catching Mason’s seed in his palm as it pumped out of him in thick, heavy spurts.

Mason was limp, muscles useless as Abe held him up, supporting his full weight. The hand in his hair let go, and Mason slumped forward, resting his head on Abe’s shoulder, his arms dangling at his sides. He breathed through the aftershocks, and roused when he heard Abe groaning in appreciation. He lifted his head, and laughed.

“You really are a deviant fuck, Baron Reynard.” Mason chuckled at the sight of Abe licking his fingers clean of Mason’s spend, obviously enjoying the taste.

“But you love me, anyway, Prince Mason of the Blood,” Abe kissed him, and Mason could taste himself on his lover’s tongue.

“I do,” Mason promised, and he found his feet under him again as Abe backed away.

“Are you boys done now?” Lucius’ voice echoed down the hall from somewhere up ahead, and Mason laughed. “I’m too old to be loitering in drafty halls while you two…reconnect.”

“We’re done…for now, you old perv!” Mason called back down the hall, and he muttered to Abe, “Not like he wasn’t watching the whole time.”

“Was he really?” Abe said, eyes deceptively wide, and Mason fell out laughing at the guileless expression on his lover’s face.

“What’s so funny?”

They both turned to see Edward walking up behind them, Percy fully dressed and asleep in his mate’s arms. The little breeder had a faint smile on his kiss-swollen lips, and the scent of sex was heavy in the air. Edward passed them in the hall, sparing Mason a quick glance as he went by. “Mace, do up your pants, I don’t need to see what Reynard was just playing with.”

Mason rolled his eyes and re-buttoned his waistband, and Abe wrapped his arm over Mason’s shoulders. They followed behind Edward as they caught up to Lucius, Edward asking the noble for a quiet room for Percy to recover in.

Chapter Nine

Percy

Percy opened his eyes to see the red-haired pleasure slave inches from his nose, her beautiful eyes wide with curiosity.

“Hello,” Percy said, keeping his voice low. Pleasure slaves could be skittish, especially the females, their reactions to things and people exaggerated to create a more enthusiastic response during sex. He had very little interactions with female breeders once he hit puberty, but their mental development was stopped right about that time, so she would be relatively the same as the others he knew from his life at Heritage.

“Hi,” she breathed out, voice a girlish mixture of awe and enjoyment. “Are you a new toy for Master Lucius?”

“No,” Percy said, not unkindly, sitting up. He was dressed again, though he couldn’t recall doing it himself. After he rode Edward until they both came he had very little recollection. He tended to pass out after sex. “I belong to Master Edward.”

“Oh! He’s very handsome,” the red-haired slave gasped out, a delightful blush building on her cheeks, eyes twinkling. “Will we he want to try us, too? Master Lucius lets us share.”

“Us?” Percy looked up, and saw that in the small sitting room where he was placed on a wide chaise, he was surrounded by the female slaves of Lord Lucius’ harem. They sat clustered around the chaise, the red-head laying stretched out beside him, others sitting on the floor or peering over the sides, all of them watching him. Percy smiled at them, and he felt oddly out of place. He thought even that to be odd, since up until a few months ago, he was surrounded by slaves and breeders.

He swung his feet down, bare toes touching a thick, warm rug, and he stretched with his arms over his head, arching his back and moaning as his spine gave a few pops. Several gasps sounded from the chorus of slaves around him, and he lowered his arms and looked around, wondering what startled them.

A slim, tiny hand reached out, and Percy looked down to see the red-head rubbing his baby bump. She tilted her head like a bird, and the others all gathered closer, staring at his abdomen.

“You are a breeder?” She asked, coming closer, all but snuggling with him as she ran her hands over his baby bump, gently exploring. She was very naked, as were all the others, though her nudity wasn’t what bothered him.

“Yes, I am. I carry my master’s babe,” Percy confirmed, and was about to lean back from exploring hands when she started to unbutton his shirt, pulling the sides apart. Warm hands on his skin made him jump, and he laughed, trying to back away, but he ended up pressed against the wide sloping arm of the chaise.

The females gathered in even closer, two brunettes climbing up on the chaise and crawling up on either side of him. They ran their hands up his thighs over his pants, sliding with curiosity over his groin before landing on the swell where his babe slept. Their hands were soft and warm, skin smooth and with delicate fingers, and they oohed and aahed over him with extreme interest.

“You are a male?” The red-head asked, sliding her hands down his belly, and Percy squeaked in alarm when she unbuttoned his waistband, opening his trousers. “A male breeder? Do you have a cock?”

“Yes!” Percy cried out, heavily startled, as the red-head went searching in his clothing. Slim hands cupped his cock and balls, and the two other slaves grabbed his trousers and tried pulling them off of him. “No! I belong to my master.”

“Can we taste? Master lets us play with each other. Can we play with you?” one of the brunettes asked him, eyes guileless and a deep green, but her hands were anything but innocent as she ran them up his chest and pinched his nipples. He gasped at the sensations, and he blushed as his body responded to the stimulus, cock hardening in the skilled hands stroking him, his nipples hard little nubs as the brunette leaned over him and suckled on them. His body was designed to respond to sexual stimulus, and it rarely listened to his brain, if ever. He needed to get off the chaise and back to Edward.

“Stop! My master will be very upset!” In truth, Percy was getting upset himself. He saw now why slaves were separated at puberty. Sex would be all too common and unavoidable. The pleasure slaves were even more voracious than a breeder in heat.

Percy shifted on the chaise, trying to wiggle out from underneath the tangle of slim limbs and graceful forms. He was afraid to hurt them, and he could. While he was weak compared to Edward or Reynard, he was still stronger than these girls, and he could hurt them badly if he tried to force them off of him.

The two brunettes were all but sitting on him, and Percy tried pushing them away, and kicking at the chaise in an attempt to slide out from underneath the very eager girls. They were panting, flushed, and the scent of female arousal filled the air. Percy squirmed in earnest when the red-head knelt at his hip, hands on his hard cock, and she leaned down over her prize, mouth opening.

“I said no!” Percy shouted, startling them. The red-head pouted, her eyes narrowing, and she squeezed his cock. It leapt in her hand in response, and Percy hated his designer with a pure bolt of resentment in that moment. “Stop!”

The red-head smiled at him, and opened her mouth as she lowered herself down, fully intending to swallow his cock. Percy thrashed, and managed to get one of the brunettes off him. She fell off the chaise with a squeal of alarm, Percy rolled over, dislodging the red-head and sliding out from under the other brunette. He landed on the floor, and fast as he could he got to his feet, redoing his trousers and tucking his over-friendly cock back under his waistband.

“What is going on in here?” a stern voice demanded, and Percy froze instinctively, eyes down, hands at his side. That tone of voice was always the same, regardless of the name of the man who bore it or where he worked—a stable master.