Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Kenneth

I still could not believe the nerve of that man.

The man whose name I did not even know. I assumed he was my new valet. I always seemed to be getting a new valet.

Wait…had he said his name was…Walter?

I could also admit to being surprised he had followed me upstairs. On the other hand, George knew what I expected of the men who worked for me.

Served me.

Such a man .

I did not fancy men such as myself—slender, blond, and wealthy. I liked lower-class men. Larger men. Men would could manhandle me. If I let them. Which I didn't. I preferred being able to order men around—to provide me with carnal pleasure—as the best way to appease my sexual appetites.

This man, whomever he was, had thrown my orderly world into chaos.

And after having consumed too much wine at lunch, I needed to piss .

That taken care of, I considered the time. I'd lain in bed for several hours—shifting repeatedly to have cold sheets against my arse. This turn was quite unexpected.

And, despite myself, I enjoyed it.

Still, it would not do to let that be known to this man.

My father had threatened corporal punishment if I didn't behave. He'd taken the strap to me as a child, but not in recent years. Although we had several servants who might have been able, clearly none had been willing. My father had hired Walter. As my valet and the one to mete out punishments? Clearly the man wouldn't have been so insolent, so violent, without my father's permission. So whining to Father wouldn't work.

You could behave…

My mind revolted. Life was for being enjoyed.

I considered. Did I want a sore ass night after night? Not an easy question to answer.

A knock at my door drew me from my inner thoughts.

"Come."

The door opened and the object of my desire, as well as my nemesis, entered the room. While George and Dennis were both attractive—for older men—I was most attracted to men on the younger side. This man appeared approximately twenty-five. Close to my own age. His black hair was cut close to his scalp, but I could discern curls. His dark-brown eyes glared at me.

"You are naked."

"Well, it is my bedchamber." Really, what was the man thinking?

He headed to my closet. "You need to dress now, my Lord."

"Oh, now I am your lord?" I snickered. "You certainly showed me no respect before."

He returned with my black tailcoat, white shirt, cravat, breeches, and underclothes.

I glared. "I prefer to sup in my room this evening."

"Well, Cook prepared a delicious meal, which will be best enjoyed in the dining room." His eyes glinted.

"And if I refuse? "

He circled me slowly, eyeing my ass. "Well, I would wager I could layer more bruises on that tender skin. Aim for black instead of just purple."

Maintaining my composure proved difficult, as I longed to have his hands on me again. My cock twitched. "Might I persuade you to keep me company this evening?"

He stilled. "In what way?"

"In whichever way you choose." I'd do just about anything, because the thought of wearing breeches and sitting at the dinner table—with those uncomfortable chairs—brought me no pleasure.

"If you eat supper and behave, I shall reward you."

I put my hands on my hips, thrusting out my interested cock. "I always behave."

He arched an eyebrow. "Did you not throw a plate last night when Anna served you?"

"The partridge was cold."

"Really? And that was worthy of destroying dishware? Do you carry on like that when your parents are home? I know they are at the estate in Sussex at present."

"Exactly." I vibrated with righteous anger. "So why must I eat in the dining room?"

"Because that is what gentlemen do. I am laboring under the assumption you are a gentleman." Under his breath—so I could barely hear—he muttered, "But I have my doubts."

"I could have you turned off."

He didn't particularly look disturbed. "Do you even know my name?"

"Well…" I snapped my fingers. "Walter."

His eyes glinted. "And you'd do best to remember that." He straightened. "Now, are you coming downstairs?"

"No." I needed to exert some authority in this relationship. It this was the moment to take a stand, so be it.

"Oh, little lordling. You didn't learn your lesson last time. I don't put any dick in my mouth because it was demanded of a lord. Right. Over my knee again... "

I attempted to evade him, but—for a big man—he moved swiftly. Within moments, I was again over his lap. And, as much as I wanted to demand he release me, some small part of me revelled in being manhandled.

Not that I'd ever admit this to anyone.

His palm striking my already-aching ass brought a sting of pain that I welcomed. For some reason, in my mind, I associated this kind of beating with caring. If Walter didn't care about me, then he wouldn't be doing this. He cared. He wanted me to improve myself. But why would a man who didn't even know me want me to be a better man? I couldn't fathom it.

"You will behave yourself." Smack. "You will treat the servants with respect." Smack. "You will thank them for taking such good care of you." Smack, smack, smack.

Tears leaked from my eyes and snot formed in my nose. I sniffed loudly. "But what if I don't want to?"

"Does your lordship not crave cock?" He smoothed his palm over my ass. Given how tender it was, I was certain the thing was poker-hot as well.

"I crave your mouth," I corrected. Nearly two days had passed since someone had last taken me in their mouth. I needed satisfaction, and my hand wouldn't be sufficient. Said neglected cock strained against his thigh. Little doubt he could feel my excitement.

"Well, my Lord. You keep opening that mouth and nonsense keeps coming out. I guess we should see about putting something else in to try to help that. I have just the thing to shove into your mouth..."

I stilled.

He wouldn't.

Would he?

Apparently, I was about to find out. "I am not sitting at the dining room table and acting civilly."

"Do not say I didn't warn you."