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Lian and several other high ranking Volken occupied the place we’d served in yesterday, each taking a floor above the grand banqueting hall. Lian’s was the highest up, reflecting his status and security needs.
I watched the Volken’s arse as we climbed. He made no concession to my burden, but I’d waitressed for many years, so this was no big deal. He stopped at a foyer before a great iron-bound door.
“Let’s see what we have here.”
The man whisked the cover off the tray, snatched up a fork, and speared a few items on the end.
“Open up,” he said, and I opened my mouth as directed. Each woman that took Lian his tray was required to taste a random morsel of food, in case it was poisoned. While they thought the servants were capable of it, the Volken assumed they were less likely to do so to one of their own. I swallowed the weird combination of food and then opened my mouth, eyes down as the Volken made sure I’d eaten it all. “Well, nothing fast acting,” he said. “More’s the pity. You go in and to his Lordship’s bedroom. You knock three times, announce yourself, and wait for him to grant you entry. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s happened to the regular girl, then? What was her name?”
“Arden, sir? She’s come down with the bloody flux, sir.”
“Has she indeed?” He seemed inordinately pleased by this. “Well, in you go.”
I bobbed a quick curtsey and then waited for the man to open the door.
It was big, that was my first impression, the living space largely open plan with plush couches and scatter cushions, a huge fireplace, and what looked like a training area complete with a padded floor, fight dummies lined against the wall, and weapons hanging from hooks. I stopped for a moment, taking a breath and trying to steady my hands, as I looked for the bedchamber, when I heard the sound. Low and guttural, the
moan tugged me forward until I came to another heavy door. There was a thin, high bench there, obviously for placing trays, so I set it down and knocked three times.
“He won’t have men in his private quarters,” Adam had said. “That pet of his only earned the privilege recently. He’s one of the biggest power brokers in the city, and he protects his position with everything he has. Only ones allowed in are human women, doesn’t see them as a threat obviously. Likes to peacock, the girls say. You’ll probably find him balls deep in that Max when you get in there. Favourite way to wake up.”
Finn didn’t give anything away, he’d just stood there perfectly still as Adam filled us in. We’d nodded and did as he instructed.
“Who’s there?” a voice called from behind the door, only a slight waver in it to indicate what was going on.
“Julie, m’lord,” I replied. We figured a false name was a waste of time. “I have your breakfast tray.”
“Bring it in and set it on the side table, then wait until I am ready to be served.”
This is it, go time, I told myself. I took a deep breath, turned the knob, and then grabbed the tray, sweeping in.
I’d tried as hard as I could to prepare myself for what I was going to see. I knew Max was probably Finn’s bio dad, not that Sanctuary cared about that, and that they looked very similar. I knew the Volken were sick little fucks, and Lian, being at the top of the tree, had to be one of the sickest. But even then, I didn’t expect to look out onto a panoramic view of the surrounding lands of Leifgart through windows filling one whole wall of Lian’s suite. That, and some elaborate construction of pulleys and ropes hanging from what looked like a well-used hook from the rafters of Lian’s bedroom, with a very naked, very hard Max on full display.
I glanced over for a second before moving to the table opposite to the foot of the bed and found a space to put down the tray before tidying the surface, folding paperwork and putting books into a neat pile. I followed the procedures Adam had drilled into my head. A scrape of butter on each slice of toast and no more. Tea with a slice of lemon only, leave the diffuser in to steep. Slice the tomato in half and sprinkle lightly with pepper and salt, but none was to touch the meat. Anything was worth focussing on but Max.
But of course, my mind didn’t play that way. As I recounted the instructions like a mantra in my head, the crystal clear image of Max shouldered forward. His wrists held by ropes out and above his head like he was shouting hooray. His torso and legs criss-crossed, the warm brown skin contrasting with the stark black of the coils, his body suspended at just the right height for Lian. His thickly muscled legs held spread wide, no coy leg crossing for Max, forcing him open to admit Lian.
The sound of a man’s flesh slapping against another man filled the room along with the woody, musky scent of sex. I ignored the lot of it, or tried to give the appearance of it, moving in the proscribed ways until everything was exactly as it should be. Then I stood, hands clasped, head down, eyeing the two of them out the corner of mine.
Max’s face was a mask, of agony or ecstasy, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t want to tell, I just didn’t want to be here. Whether he felt pleasure or pain as Lian speared into him, his hand encircling Max’s cock, it wasn’t relevant, I quickly realised. This was spectacle, display, a thoroughly horrible variant of the dominance fuck people talked about in Sanctuary. Because that’s what Lian was doing, with his perfectly formed buttocks and slow and leisurely pace, he was showing us how little regard he had for my comfort or for Max’s, for his desire, or Lian’s nakedness. Being unclothed before people you don’t know made most feel vulnerable, but not Lian. He gloried in it, in the way the morning sun licked the hard lines of his body, picking out his every movement. He started going ever so slightly faster with greater vehemence, until finally, his fingers dug into Max’s hips as he emptied himself inside him.
“Come,” Lian said mildly as he pulled out while Max did in a series of uncomfortable looking twitches.
“You may serve me,” Lian said, wiping his dick off with a spare cloth and then tossing it to the floor. I’d been warned about this and dropped a curtsey, then picked up the lap table and waited patiently as he got back into bed before placing it over him.
“You’re the blowsy girl,” he said as I moved to get the tray.
“Yes, sir.”
“You sent Arden to the high table for us.”
“Yes, sir.”
I hadn’t, but I figured he wasn’t especially keen on hearing no.
