Flesh Cartel, #8: Loyalties

wouldn’t it? And he’d practically been daydreaming about that all morning.
    “Yes, Sir,” he said. “I’d like that.”
    Nikolai shifted, subtly spreading his legs. He ran one hand up Roger’s stomach, rucking his T-shirt up to expose hairless abs barely softened by age, and the other down to cup a hard, heavy cock inside Roger’s gray sweatpants. Roger threw his head back onto Nikolai’s shoulder and moaned, spreading his legs until he’d hooked his calves over Nikolai’s own. Utterly wanton. Trusting. Hungry.
    Beautiful.
    Dougie couldn’t take his eyes from where Nikolai’s lips and teeth had latched onto the exposed tendon of Roger’s neck. If he focused hard enough, he could almost feel that moist heat and pressure on his own skin.
    He wanted it to be him. Really, honest-to-God wanted it. The gleam in Nikolai’s eyes as they met his told him that Nikolai knew, too. Knew he was transforming. Was pleased with it.
    Douglas crawled up the bed, wiggling his plugged ass as he went, insinuating himself like a cat between both men’s legs.
    “Very pretty,” Nikolai said.
    “Very pretty,” Roger agreed, though his head was back and his eyes were closed as Nikolai laved at his neck. Dougie fixated on that patch of wet skin again, surprised to realize that no matter how much he wanted it, he didn’t begrudge Roger for having it instead. At least he got to watch. That was generous enough. Nikolai hadn’t forgotten about him, hadn’t left him out. Nikolai had specifically sought to include him. He could have given Roger his pleasure and reward all on his own, but he hadn’t. He’d called for Dougie.
    Little favorite. That’s what Jeremy had called him. Dougie was starting to believe it might even be true.
    “Show me how you undress a man you’re to service, Douglas.”
    Douglas dropped to his elbows and crawled in as close as he could. He craned his neck to reach the swath of skin Nikolai had bared, brushed a kiss across Roger’s abs. Then another when Roger made a breathy little gasp and the hard muscle twitched beneath Dougie’s lips. Added some tongue this time. Worked his way down to Roger’s waistband with his mouth while he crept one hand up Roger’s thigh, featherlight in deference to the bruises that might be hiding beneath the fabric. It wasn’t like kissing Nikolai, not exactly, though they both had the same lean bodies that yielded so beautifully beneath a heartfelt caress. Certainly the noises he made were as generous as Nikolai’s when Dougie pleased him, as full of praise and promise, and over Roger’s shoulder, Nikolai’s breathing had sped up too, so it was easy for Dougie to close his eyes and pretend this was Nikolai’s stomach he was mouthing, Nikolai’s crotch he was palming.
    And it was Nikolai he was pleasing, no question about it. Roger was collateral, just as Dougie was. It was all about Nikolai, and that made all of this okay. Better than okay. Perfect, almost. Their master. They’d work together to please him.
    “That’s my good boy,” Nikolai murmured, the sound muffled against some patch of Roger’s skin and how he wished it were his skin those words were sinking into, but they were a caress nonetheless, and he set his mind back to the task at hand, to making the act of undressing as sensuous and pleasurable as what would come after. Nikolai hadn’t told him not to tease, or at what pace to proceed, and yeah, okay he was maybe still a little jealous so he chose to drag it out as long as Nikolai would let him (and anyway the longer he was here, the longer he was with Nikolai, right?), painting every inch of Roger’s skin with lips and tongue and little love-nips as he exposed it, millimeter by millimeter. Drawing Roger’s sweatpants down with such agonizing slowness he knew he’d have been half out of his head by now in Roger’s shoes, and frankly, he was half out of his head even in his own shoes, with the plug filling his ass and warm skin in his mouth and his cock bumping against his stomach and Roger’s leg and occasionally the bedspread as he moved. But he could do this all day if given the chance, worship at Nikolai’s altar, prove his studiousness and his intent and his worth.
    One more tug at the elastic waistband, and Roger’s cock sprang free. It was . . . God, it was thick . Thick enough that Dougie wouldn’t be able to wrap a hand around it comfortably.
    Thick and hard and a deep, dark color, the head straining out of a stretched-taut