Duck! (Avian Shifters Book 1) (26 page)

Raynard smiled slightly, but he also shook his head. “Soon, but first you have some unfinished business to attend to.” He looked to the door the tattoo artist had disappeared through.

Ori quickly covered his wrist with his opposite hand again.

“No arguing,” Raynard ordered, before Ori had time to say a word. “Let him in, then come back to me.”

Reluctantly rising, Ori did as he was told. When he hurried back to kneel at Raynard’s feet, Raynard shook his head again. He held a hand out to Ori and guided him to sit on his lap, so he could once more offer his wrist to the tattooist.

The peacock made his way cautiously back to his stool. If he thought the seating arrangement a strange one, he seemed to take one look at Raynard’s expression and decide he had no wish to comment on it. By the time he had straightened up the contents of his tray, Raynard had Ori arranged comfortably on his lap.

Permitted to curl into his master’s embrace and rest his head on his shoulder, Ori watched, rather fascinated, as Raynard wrapped his hand around his forearm, holding his wrist steady for the artist’s needle.

“Do you know why avians started wearing these marks on their wrists?” Raynard asked him softly, as the tattoo artist bowed his head over his work.

“So everyone can know what everyone else is, even in their human form, sir,” Ori whispered back.

“That’s right.”

“So they’d know where each man stood in the hierarchy,” Ori added.

“No,” Raynard said, in the slow tone of voice that meant he was thinking about what he said very carefully. “Not at first. Years ago, it was a simple statement of pride—this is who I am, this is what I stand for. There was no such thing as a mark a man should be ashamed of. That was never what these markings were supposed to be about.”

Ori nuzzled closer into his master’s shoulder, knowing what Raynard was trying to tell him, even if he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it.

“You’re a good man, Ori—and you’re a good submissive. In time, I’ll see to it you become a good swan as well. And no one will be prouder of you than I will be when that happens.”

Ori closed his eyes as Raynard tightened his embrace around him and the tattoo artist’s needle buzzed on.

* * * * *

Everyone was staring at him. Ori tried to push the sensation aside, but the way whispers fluttered through the crowds of men was impossible to ignore. Everyone was staring and talking about him and—

“Keep up, fledgling.”

Ori scurried forward a few steps to walk more closely by his master’s side.

Raynard didn’t even glance toward him. It was as if he knew exactly where he’d be, as if he trusted Ori to be where he belonged, and saw no need to check up on him once he’d issued a clear order.

Ori‘s steps faltered when he caught sight of Mr. Hamilton standing at the other end of the hallway. He turned toward them as they approached, and Ori felt the eagle’s attention settle on his collar. Fear rushed through him at the idea that Mr. Hamilton might somehow be able to take his collar away, but Ori kept pace with Raynard regardless.

Mr. Hamilton shook hands with Raynard. He turned to Ori and held his hand out to him. Ori automatically looked to Raynard. He received a nod of permission.

Ori reached out and shook hands with Mr. Hamilton. The eagle tilted his hand to one side as their palms met, turning Ori’s tattoo up to be viewed. The skin was still red around the edges of the swirling black mark, but the design was clear and vivid against his pale skin.

“It looks good on you, sire.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As he released Ori’s hand, Mr. Hamilton turned his attention back to Raynard. Not having any order to occupy himself with, Ori stepped back out of everyone’s way and settled himself into his rest position until such time as his master had another command for him. His movements felt so natural that, just for a few seconds, it was possible to believe it had all just been some horrible nightmare and nothing had actually changed over the last few weeks.

“We can expect you both to be at the feast this weekend?” Mr. Hamilton asked. The question seemed to be directed entirely toward Raynard, but Ori felt himself fall under the scope of the inquiry in a way he never had when everyone believed him to be a duckling.

“We’ll both be there,” Raynard confirmed.

The rest of the conversation didn’t seem to require any sort of contribution from Ori. Mr. Hamilton dipped his head to him as he walked away, but Ori barely had time to notice the little half bow before his master was striding off again.

As they stepped into the car park, Ori hurried forward and opened his master’s car door for him, before running around to the other side and taking his place in the passenger seat.

The drive was completed in what might have felt like an easy, companionable, silence, if Ori’s nerves had been stronger. As it was, he just felt grateful that he hadn’t actually hyperventilated by the time Raynard’s car pulled up outside his house.

Getting out of the car, Ori scurried around to open Raynard’s door for him again, but found himself stopped short. Raynard was already out of the vehicle. Damn. Eager to find some other way to serve, Ori turned toward the front door of the house and rushed to open that for him instead.

His hand was already on the handle when he realised it was still locked and his master was the only one with a key.

Raynard stepped up behind him. Ori tried to move out of his way, but he found his escape route blocked by a solid wall of hawk. Swallowing down his nerves as best he could, he stood very still as the heat from his master’s body started to soak through both their clothes.

Raynard pushed the door open. It had taken Ori a day’s work on the hinges to make the door swing smoothly and silently.

It was silly to be pleased that some little part of the service he’d provided for his master had lingered on in Raynard’s home while he’d been gone, but Ori concentrated his whole mind on those hinges—it was his only chance of ignoring the other thing he’d realised as their bodies pressed against each other.

His master was hard.

The moment the door was open, Ori stumbled forward, heading straight for the servants’ quarters.

Raynard’s caught hold of his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I should start catching up on the duties I—”

“Do you think that’s the best way you could serve me right now?” Raynard stepped closer, until his cock pressed intimately against Ori’s backside once more.

His master had no doubt had plenty of erections before Ori came under his protection. He didn’t need that from him, and Ori knew he’d already given up his right to offer himself to Raynard that way.

“I promised,” Ori whispered. “I promised that I wouldn’t expect things to be the same as they were before, sir. I meant it.”

“You think I’ve lost interest in you?” Raynard slid a fingertip along the edge of Ori’s collar.

Ori’s eyes fell closed as he leaned into his touch. “I…”

“Or do you think a hawk’s not good enough for you, now that you outrank me?”

Ori spun around, wide eyed with horror at the idea. “I wouldn’t…!”

A smile played around Raynard’s lips. “If nothing has changed for you, why assume it’s changed for me?”

“Because you said everything had changed!” It sounded like an accusation. Ori wished he could take it back the moment it left his lips, but it was too late. The words were there, hanging in the air between them.

Raynard released Ori’s arm and walked away from him. He leaned against the sideboard on the other side of the room, his arms folded across his chest.

Ori’s feet stuck to the tiles, he was helpless to step forward and bridge the gap between them, even when every inch of space threatened to kill something inside him.

“I think your species changes what you’re suited to,” Raynard announced, no trace of emotion in his voice. “And, yes—it means you’ll almost certainly prove to be better matched to a different form of submission than the one I had planned for you before the shifting ceremony.”

Ori shook his head.

“The matter isn’t open for debate.”

Ori met his master’s gaze across the room.

“You offered me your submission. It’s my right as your master to ensure you practice the form of submission that brings out the best of your nature.”

No matter how much Ori wanted to look away, he couldn’t.

“The way you’ll serve me changed the moment you completed the shifting ceremony. I won’t lie to you and say otherwise,” Raynard went on. “But I’ve never told you that the way I feel about you has changed, have I, fledgling?”

Ori finally managed to drop his gaze. The words his master had said to him in the tattoo studio still echoed around and around inside his head, too fantastical to be believed.

Submissives could easily fall in love with their masters, especially when their masters were as perfect as Raynard—Ori had known that for months. But the idea that the reverse could also happen, that his master could care for him as much as Ori cared for Raynard, was…

He looked up.

“Come here.”

Ori stepped forward.

When he was a foot away, Raynard hooked his fingers through Ori’s collar and tugged him forward. He collided heavily with Raynard’s chest. Holding Ori there by the circle of leather, Raynard dipped his head to whisper in his ear.

“You’re mine, fledgling. You belong to me—body and soul. I own you. Never doubt that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re going to do as you’re told and let me take care of you properly, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” It was barely a whisper.

“And now, you’re going to run up those stairs and strip yourself down before climbing into my bed, aren’t you?”

Ori parted his lips, but only an enthusiastic whimper emerged.

“Fledgling…”

“Yes, sir,” he rasped out.

Raynard let go of Ori’s collar. A sharp tap on his backside sent him on his way up the stairs.

His master had said run; Ori didn’t walk. He threw himself up the stairs and into the master bedroom. His clothes seemed to fight against his need to follow Raynard’s order. He scrabbled at the seemingly endless yards of fabric as he threw them aside.

The bed hadn’t been made. Ori jumped on top of the rumpled sheets. He was just in time. Panting for breath, he turned toward the bedroom door as it swung open.

Raynard stepped into the room and slammed the door behind him. His eyes seemed to take in every detail as he stalked toward the bed.

He stopped at the edge of the mattress and stared down at Ori.

Ori had seen the same look in Raynard’s eyes when he came in from stretching his wings. There was something wild about him, as if he could control the whole world—every bit of it, bar himself; as if there was something in him that was too strong for anyone to master, even Raynard.

“Never doubt this is exactly where you belong.”

“Yes, sir. I mean…No, sir…I mean—”

Whatever he might have been destined to mean was swallowed by a kiss as Raynard brought their mouths together and took complete possession of him.

Ori tipped his head back, grabbing hold of Raynard’s shoulders to steady himself as Raynard pulled him closer.

Raynard thrust his tongue past Ori’s lips, sparring with Ori until Ori couldn’t keep up. Ori moaned when Raynard nipped his bottom lip. He clawed for a purchase on Raynard’s arms when Raynard suddenly pushed him away.

Ori’s grip failed him. He toppled backward. Raynard loomed over him, his eyes serious and wild in equal measure as he joined Ori on the bed. His clothes were still between them. Raynard didn’t seem to care about that as he grabbed the lube from the bedside cabinet and smeared it over his fingers.

No teasing, no time wasted, he thrust his fingers into Ori’s hole, not so much encouraging him to relax and accept his master as demanding that he do so.

Arching on the bed, Ori pushed back against Raynard’s fingers, trying to squirm his way farther on to them. He moaned his disapproval as Raynard’s hand left him.

Raynard tugged his zip-fly down and shoved the fabric of his trousers and boxers out of the way. A nudge to Ori’s side prompted him to roll over and lift himself onto his hands and knees.

Raynard pushed Ori’s knees farther apart. A moment later, he settled his palms on Ori’s flanks, holding him in place. Raynard’s slicked cock pressed against Ori’s hole. One thrust had Raynard buried inside him to the hilt. Ori cried out as pure pleasure rushed through him.

Raynard stilled. Ori scrabbled desperately at the sheet as he tried to do the same and failed. Reaching forward, Raynard put one hand between Ori’s shoulder blades and pushed him down.

Ori’s arms gave way, his body tipped forward. His face came to rest on the blanket as his back arched, and he offered himself up to Raynard more thoroughly than ever.

Raynard grunted his approval as he pulled back to deliver a slower and even deeper thrust.

Ori gasped as his body took over, and his mind shut down. All that existed then was Ori and his master.