Free And I Am Happy by R. Cooper Page B

thought his master less than
brilliant.
    “Will.” Charlie’s voice was husky, not
entirely drowning the whirr of moving parts in his arm, the urges
his nerves read that he tried to deny. He did not understand how
high Will was for this and did not until Will swallowed around more
of him and moaned. Then his master’s hips came up and his hand
rested at Will’s crown and Will was sucking him. Will would not let
him pull away, not when he gagged, not with spittle at his chin,
and not a few minutes later with spunk hot in his mouth. He took
it, because he wished to and because his master needed to see that
he would, and gladly. A weak groan from above finally made him pull
off, but only to lick up the rest of the mess and swallow that
too.
    Some of his hair caught in his master’s other
hand. Will put his mouth to Charlie’s thigh and made a series of
grateful noises into the muscle while Charlie gently freed him.
    “You should not call me master.” It might
have been a scold in his master’s voice. It might also have been
need. “I am not so much.”
    “Shut up,” Will told him, refusing to look
up. “You are my master and I am happy.” His gentleman knew
everything of him now, what Will felt and what Will wanted from
him. Will caught his breath as he waited, though he was too hot and
drowsy to move. The tension humming under his skin instantly eased
the moment a warm hand slid back into his hair. The metal one
followed it, curving against Will’s cheek. Will let out a sigh.
    “You like the title?” His master was
exceedingly lovely in his caution. He did not understand Will, but
he wanted to.
    Will rubbed his face into a steel palm. “I
enjoy knowing I have pleased you, sir. I enjoy it very much.” He
imagined his gentleman’s face as he absorbed that explanation and
struggled to understand it. He endeavored to explain more. “And
when you are frustrated, sir, I often wish you would make use of
me, instead of throwing a pen or book.”
    Alarm made his master tense. Will gave a
small shake of his head. “Not to throw me or hit me. Only that you
be very firm with me.” He let out a shuddering breath. “You may be
very firm with me, sir.” Will was emboldened by his master’s
stillness. “ My sir. You may hold me down again, if you
wish.” How his master’s breathing quickened. Will glanced up in
time to see the dark colour in his cheeks. But his gentleman
remained silent. Will closed his eyes and leaned into him. “It is
not using me if I beg you to. If you are gentle afterward. If you
are mine. That is,” his voice broke, leaving him to whisper, “that
is what I want, and what I have wanted, since knowing you, sir.”
There was no answer, not for a long time, but Charlie’s hand stayed
in his hair. After a while, the tension left Will. He recognized
the silence now as contemplative, not repulsed. “You will not send
me away.” Somehow, Will was sure of it.
    “I couldn’t.” Charlie’s voice was rough. “But
I am not presuming?” Only his gentleman would ask such a thing.
Will had chosen well. “It will not be like your operettas.”
    Will shook his head, mostly at himself. “If
you do not mind biscuits for breakfast and crooked sandwiches then
I do not.” Not as long as Charlie was his.
    “Dull evenings at home and spilled bathwater,
my sisters….” His master did not seem to hear him as he made his
own list of faults. “Will,” Charlie added abruptly, “Will, I am
sorry but I cannot spend another night in this chair.”
    “Shite!” Will swore crudely and scrambled to
his feet. He noticed Charlie’s red face and paused, then shook off
the desire to kiss him so he could help Charlie to his feet.
“Sorry, sir.”
    “Charlie.” Charlie corrected him, watching
him carefully.
    “Charlie, sir.” Will grinned boldly at him, a
distraction, but he was pleased when his master accepted that as
well as his help. Will was taking some of his gentleman’s weight,
but he felt as if he