Page 1 of Collin, Episodes 4-6 (The Residency Boys #2)

Collin nodded. He could feel where his muscle was thicker and the circular pressure of Mr. Reevesworth touch was welcome.

“Then you can follow that around the palm, into the base of all the digits and down into the palm itself.” Mr. Reevesworth demonstrated. “How do you feel now?”

“I can’t believe how good that feels. That’s just my hand.”

“Many traditions locate the end points of the channels of the body in the hands, feet, and head, meaning that you can change the experience of the body through initiating changes in these locations.” He turned Collin’s hand over, working around the front, back and side muscles and then down into the fingers, just like he had done with Collin’s feet.

Collin’s head slowly fell back against Mr. Reevesworth’s shoulder. “When did you learn all this?”

“A long time ago. My second teacher was a strong believer in understanding the nerves of the human body. Do you want to try?” He offered Collin his hand.

Collin blinked his eyes open and sat up a little straighter. Mr. Reevesworth’s groin was squished against his ass.

It felt…odd. And nice. He focused on the strong hand between his own.

The nails were carefully filed and rounded.

There were small scars on the skin, showing where training or work had left marks.

These were hands that had seen things. He turned it over, looking into Mr. Reevesworth’s palm.

Slowly, he pressed his thumb into the mound below Mr. Reevesworth’s thumb.

“Think of it as working your way down in layers. Light pressure until you feel where the knots or tension are, then more pressure as it is released.”

Collin followed the instructions. It was like a conversation between his hands and Mr. Reevesworth’s body.

He had to sense where the obstructions were, where the tenderness was, remember where the slight abrasions marred his knuckles from where he’d struggled against the wall with Mr. Moreau as they vied for dominance.

Collin fell into it. There were bones and tendons; an entire world to map under his fingers.

He didn’t need his eyes, only his sense of touch and the way Mr. Reevesworth’s breathing slowed behind him, his body resting lower and lower in the tub.

It was like washing dishes with your eyes closed and using your fingers to find the bumps of grime and slick of oil that needed cleaning.

But this kind of searching out and finding with one’s fingers was better, instead of cold ceramic, there was muscle, both hard and soft, and bones, and lines, and pulsing veins and all of it was alive, a person, that was allowing touch.

He found Mr. Reevesworth’s other hand and worked that one as well.

A soft snore echoed in the bathroom. Collin twisted around.

Mr. Reevesworth was asleep, head tipped back on his towel of a pillow, lips slightly open.

Collin bit his lip. It wasn’t recommended to let people sleep in hot tubs, right? But he could let him rest for a little while at least.

He went back to finishing Mr. Reevesworth’s second hand.

“Sir?”

Mr. Reevesworth stirred and opened his eyes. “Yes?” He frowned and sat up. “I was asleep, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, sir. I think it’s been about twenty minutes. It’s best not to sleep in hot tubs.”

“True.” Mr. Reevesworth stretched his shoulders. “Let’s take this back to the bedroom.”

Collin stood. Water rolled down his legs. He shook them slightly and stepped out, reaching for the towels. Turning back, he opened one and held it up.

Mr. Reevesworth looked up, half frowning, as if he did not understand.

“Are you coming out, sir?”

“Yes. I—” He shook his head and stood.

Collin wrapped the towel around him, then reached for his own. Mr. Reevesworth was continuing to stare at him. Did I do something wrong?

Mr. Reevesworth dipped his head in a “come along” gesture. “Let’s take this to bed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Collin dried himself as he walked. Mr. Reevesworth dropped face down on the covers, his towel discarded. Collin hung his on the doorknob. He stood by the bed. Should I get in, wait for an order?

Mr. Reevesworth patted the comforter. “Lay down.”

Collin stretched out on his stomach, his head on one bent arm, so that he could see Mr. Reevesworth’s face.

“Closer.”

Collin edged over. Mr. Reevesworth reached out and grasped Collin’s farthest thigh in his hand. He pulled, dragging Collin in against his body.

“Better.”

Collin let out a long breath. “Are we cuddling, sir?”

“You should always assume we are cuddling, pet.”

Collin rolled onto his side and put his leg up over Mr. Reevesworth, slotting himself in against the man’s side.

Mr. Reevesworth rumbled his appreciation. His hand moved up and down Collin’s back, ass, and upper thighs. “You are full of surprises, boy.”

That observation didn’t seem to require an answer. Collin held his peace. This half-asleep, relaxed version of the powerful man of business was a dream and an enigma.

His hands slid more and more often over Collin’s ass, trailing down over his crack and then sliding between his cheeks, pressing over the bud of Collin’s hole. Collin shivered and curled inward toward Mr. Reevesworth’s chest.

“I had plans,” Mr. Reevesworth whispered into Collin’s hair. “But now I wonder if they suit you. Each test I give you, intended or not, you throw yourself into. I know so many things about you, but there are so many things that perhaps neither of us know.”

“What surprised you, sir?”

“Your punishment, when you decided to suffer for me, when you found release in suffering for me.”

Collin trembled. He pressed a hand against Mr. Reevesworth’s chest, gripping lightly.

“And then”—Mr. Reevesworth pressed his finger against Collin’s hole, just hard enough to slip the tip inside—“last night when you watched and stayed even as émeric and I tore the room apart around you. I’ve never had a submissive stay for such display, not unless ordered. Were you not afraid?”

“No, sir.”

“Why?”

“You love him like you need inside his skin. And he loves you like he needs to drink you in.”

“There was blood on the walls.”

“Only a little, sir. A very little. I’ve had worse cooking.”

Mr. Reevesworth chuckled. His finger moved a little.

Collin winced. “Could you use lube, sir? I think my skin is dry from the bath.”

“It’s under the pillow.”

Collin propped himself up on his elbows and pushed his hand under the mounds of soft pillows. His hand ran into the bottle almost at once. He handed it to his dom.

Mr. Reevesworth thumbed it open. Collin tucked himself back down with his face against Mr. Reevesworth’s chest. The man’s hand found Collin’s ass again and returned to his hole, slick and cool. Collin breathed out and pushed back, easing the man’s finger inside him.

Mr. Reevesworth pushed in at least two knuckles deep. Collin shivered against Mr. Reevesworth. The man was almost lying on his side now facing him. He slid one arm under Collin’s head and gathered him close, their legs tangling together.

“Will you be frustrated like this, Collin?”

“Uh, no, sir?”

“You’re still wearing the cage.”

“Oh.” Collin glanced down. He was. He looked small and—his mind blanked for a moment. He looked held, his dick trapped and soft beside Mr. Reevesworth’s free and stiffening cock.

“I’m fine, sir.”

Mr. Reevesworth hummed in the back of his throat. He slid his finger deeper, twisting and searching. The pad of his finger pressed down on Collin’s prostate from the inside. Collin groaned. He arched into Mr. Reevesworth’s body.

“Still fine, boy?”

Collin dragged air into his lungs. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t tell me just what you think I want to hear.”

“I—” Collin swallowed and gripped Mr. Reevesworth with his free arm, the one not trapped between them. “I’m truly fine, sir.”

“You don’t want it off?”

“I don’t think so, sir.”

Mr. Reevesworth hummed low in his chest. His finger continued to work inside Collin, spreading tingling soft feelings up his spine and down his legs. He felt small and warm.

“Take a moment to think, Collin. And tell me why you aren’t asking for the cage to come off.”

Collin closed his eyes. His hands cooled, and his feet tingled.

The first signs of panic. He pressed his face even more deeply into Mr. Reevesworth’s shoulder until he could feel the man’s heartbeat.

Words slipped away from him, skittering here and there.

He grasped at them, dragging them back from the flow of his thought river, offering them up, one at a time, like fish caught with great care.

“I like your face, sir. When you see me struggle. When I suffer for you. And when I serve you. If I wanted to come, I could do that on my own. I have done that on my own. But I can’t serve myself on my own.

I can’t give myself what you give me when you hold me down.

I can’t give if you’re not taking. And I like that better.

I want to be thinking about you. I want to feel…

the way you make me feel. I want to matter, like that.

I don’t want to go away, like one does in one’s head, when cumming. I want to stay for every moment.”

Mr. Reevesworth’s finger stilled. His hand spread out and gripped Collin’s buttock, and his other arm slid over Collin’s shoulder. He drew Collin in, holding him so tight air almost left Collin’s lungs.

“Oh, Collin. Pet. You precious boy. What if I want to see you cum?”

“Then take that off me. And I’ll cum as often as you want.”

“You shouldn’t be so giving, Collin. I haven’t earned this. You barely know me.”

“Life is short, sir. And if you’re not who you say you are, if you’re not what your actions say you are, I’ll reclaim all of me. I’ll drag the pieces back into my soul, and I’ll leave you.”

“Do that.” Mr. Reevesworth rolled Collin onto his back, rising up on all fours above him, his finger still in Collin’s hole.

Collin raised his hand. There were tears in Mr. Reevesworth’s eyes. He touched one. “Sir?”

Mr. Reevesworth closed his eyes. Two tears, hot and heavy, fell on Collin’s chest.