“Will he bring her to the party?” Celia is stoic and perfectly aware of the way her words slide between Felipe’s ribs like satin covered steel. Last night, Caleb had her in a way her master will not allow himself, and then shamed her by throwing her out of bed afterward. It was a better result than she could have hoped for, because he had done it to spare Kitten’s feelings. In fact, the entire display had been for Kitten. Caleb is a man in love with a woman he will not let himself have, and it reminds Celia so much of her own relationship that it makes her ache. Tomorrow night, Celia will see Caleb shamed in return and advance the plan.
“Sí,” Felipe replies. His mind’s eye replays the footage he watched this morning as he stares at Celia through the mirror. He sees Caleb’s scarred back and tight body thrusting on top of his beautiful slave, his queen, the woman he’s supposedly conquered and still doesn’t own. He’s seen her wide open legs and heard her pleasured moans thousands of times and felt nothing but lust. Other times, he feels as he does now, like a lovesick idiot low on self-respect.
“How did you get him to agree?” Celia says in thickly accented English. Her syntax is much improved thanks to Kid. She motions the young man—who has been standing nearby and seems to be working to make himself invisible by sheer force of will—toward the fallen hairbrush. She smiles at him brilliantly as he moves to pick it up.
Felipe intercepts his male lover and tugs the brush gently from his hand. The older man’s eyes rake over Kid from toe to head and stop everywhere in between. Weight, dense and full, settles low in his testicles. He licks his lips before he can help it; Kid mirrors the act. “How else? I blackmailed him. Why is he dressed this way?”
Celia takes possession of her hairbrush from Felipe’s tight grip and begins brushing her hair. She watches her men intently in the mirror. Kid’s blush nearly matches the color of his rouge tinted lips. Celia mentally pats herself on the back watching Felipe’s hungry eyes roam over their boy. Yes, all is indeed going according to plan—her plan. They may have started this game to rid themselves of Rafiq’s demands and their involvement in the pleasure trade, but it has quickly evolved to include other aims. There is another game she and Felipe have been playing for much longer, and she can sense checkmate is close. If she is successful, Kitten will have her Caleb, and Celia will finally have her master and a gorgeous boy for them to love and share without guilt. “The dress is a little short for a proper lady in waiting—it’s rare to find a woman so tall—but otherwise, he fits it well. Don’t you think?”
Felipe prides himself on awarding praise when it is earned. No one gets to him quite like Celia. She’s clever, spiteful, stunning, stubborn, giving, loving, and brave; he worships her and she knows it. Part of him doesn’t care if he ever gets to be with her as other men—they’ll always have this; always have their games. “You’re exquisitely cruel, my dear.” He slowly reaches out to tuck a lock of Kid’s hair behind his ear. He sighs. The younger man is another denied desire.
“Thank you, Master. I thought we might have some fun with his ‘boy pussy’.” She smiles wickedly in the mirror. Felipe laughs. Kid’s mouth falls open as he turns his head and looks at her with shock in his eyes and a plea written across his stricken face. “I assume Master prefers it to mine.” Their smiles mirror one another in their reflections.
Felipe’s jealousy falls away as though it never were. What does he care if Caleb challenged his manhood? He’s a pawn, like Rafiq, like Reynaldo, and like Kid until he proves his loyalty. Felipe is a king. Celia is his queen. Jealousy is unbecoming their station. “If my slave will only obey me and give herself to me, I would humbly accept.”
“Am I your slave, Felipe? If so, you don’t require my permission for anything.”
“Then by your own logic, all you need to free yourself is to accept me willingly.”
Celia closes her eyes. A shiver races down her spine. “A bird is not free simply because it can no longer see its cage.” Her eyes open and fix on Kid before they flick toward Felipe. “Aren’t you going to unwrap your present?”
Felipe smirks. “Of course.” He takes Kid unaware and manhandles him toward Celia’s bed until the younger man is sitting in his lap with his legs over Felipe’s wide knees, facing Celia.
“Hey!” Kid protests. “You don’t have to toss me around, you know.” He huffs indignantly.
“Shut up, and stop trying to close your legs,” Felipe orders, pleased by Kid’s immediate compliance. His eyes are firmly on Celia as he gently rucks Kid’s dress and petticoats up over his legs and thighs until the mass of fabric rests just over his cock. He’s tempted to look in the mirror to see if the boy is aroused, but he won’t take his eyes away from Celia.