CHAPTER ELEVEN
I kneel at the feet of my new Masters with a bottle of beer between my legs.
They have yet to claim that title, or even acknowledge it, but Wyatt’s every word and gesture speaks of ownership, and Roy wants me too badly to set me free. Of the two, Wyatt may be easier to deal with. His feelings can’t be hurt.
There were only two chairs in the kitchen. Wyatt dropped into one as soon as we entered the room and drew me to him with the leash.
“Sit down, Roy,” he said, without taking his eyes from me. “Take a load off.”
Roy hesitated. I knew he wanted to offer me his chair. He was still being chivalrous and contrite after jamming two fingers up my ass, as though he hoped to erase my memory of it.
I know that he will want to have his way with me eventually. He has already let
