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Part 4

The sound that woke Shane was one he wasn't immediately able to place. A soft, strangely muted clicking that vague reminded him of gun being cocked very, very carefully. But it wasn't quite that sound or he would have been instantly awake. And it came from to far away to be an immediate threat.

His whole body felt pleasantly heavy and relaxed and for a second his over-alert mind warned him of being drugged and helpless.

But then he returned to wakefulness enough to remember that he wasn't on a mission. He was on holidays and the likelihood of anybody finding and attacking him here was so close to zero even he could ignore it.

His face felt slightly numb which was due to the fact that he had slept on it, so relaxed by his slave's massage that he hadn't even turned over in his sleep.

That thought brought his attention back to the sound that had repeated itself several times since he had woken up. It had to be the boy. With a low grunt he managed to gather enough energy to turn on his back, flopping down like a dead fish again, limbs spread, completely relaxed.

The inside of his cottage was a murky twilight, only illuminated by the diffuse red light of the setting sun - and by the brighter light of several lantern burning outside on the veranda.

By the body that moved back and fro in front of that light outside he was able to place where his pretty slave had gotten to - and what he was doing: setting the table for his dinner. The sound he had been hearing was that of Stephen gently putting down the tableware on the wooden surface of the table outside.

Now he also noticed the gentle aroma of grilled fish wafting inside, combined with the more earthy smell of potatoes. His stomach commented this information with a distinct rumbling. He hadn't eaten since he had wolfed down that disgusting sandwich at Hong Kong airport. And that hadn't really qualified as food.

Silently he congratulated himself and Silver Beach on their astounding ability to pick a slave that suited his needs perfectly. A more rebellious slave might have ignored his orders for a light dinner. This one had obviously followed them to the letter.

Just as he was wondering if he should heave himself out of bed and spare the boy the trouble of waking him, his slave was obviously done with his dinner preparations and came inside. Not bothering to hide the fact that he was awake already, Shane turned onto his side, propping his head up in one hand and smiled at his pretty plaything. The young slave looked good enough to jump and ravish on the stop, his slender limbs moving in a show of natural grace that could not be taught.

Stephen moved cautiously as if he was expecting to step on a land mine any second. The moment his eyes had adjusted to the low light enough to notice that his master was awake already he stopped in his tracks, a visible shiver running through him. Shane could almost hear the panicked, incoherent outburst of thoughts in the boy's mind. But then he forcefully calmed himself to cross the space that separated him from Shane.

Truly an admirable show of strength of will. One that deserved to be rewarded.

Shane watched approvingly as his slave knelt next to the bed, head bowed meekly.

"Dinner is ready, master." Stephen announced, his voice trembling only the lightest bit.

"Smells good." Shane answered, his usually clipped, hard voice taking on a mellow, relaxed note that only ever was evident when he was here at the island.

He studied the mop of dark hair that hid Stephen's face thoughtfully, considering his next steps. Moving slowly enough not to startle the boy he sat up so his feet rested on the floor right in front of the kneeling slave. Then he reached out and gently put a finger under Stephen's chin to lift his face to his gaze.

Breaking what would have been considered a perfect behaviour for a slave, Stephen glanced up at him, his eyes filled with a delicious mixture of fear and calculating curiosity. The thought that such a bright boy was entirely at his mercy made Shane's blood run hot. Being in control was his ultimate kick.

Putting a kind smile on his face he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Stephen's brow, followed by nuzzling his hair. He could feel the boy tense up but he remained utterly motionless. Then he let go of Stephen and a soundless sigh escaped the young slave. He should have looked down again immediately but instead his eyes remained on Shane a moment longer, scanning his face for any clues on what the master was planning. Then he seemed to remember his place and quickly lowered his gaze, making Shane grin.

"Shall we eat?" he asked, getting up from the bed and stretching, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of muscles contracting easily in his back and shoulders. The hands of his boy truly had worked a bit of magic on him.

"As you wish, master." Stephen answered his question carefully.

"Come." Shane ordered him to follow as he headed outside to survey what had been prepared for him.

The meal laid out was nothing fancy and presented on simple dishes but everything had been set with care. There even was a bright tropical flower in a slim vase. And it smelled utterly delicious. Shane knew the expertise of the Silver Beach cooks from ample experience and he had yet to be served something that didn't taste better than he had expected.

With a happy sigh he sat down and gestured to Stephen to open the Champaign bottle resting in a cooler close to the table. When his glass was filled he leaned back and let is gaze sweep over the beautiful view.

Through the mangrove trees he could just make out the glitter of the sea. The cottage sat on a rise from which a small path led down to the beach. Tomorrow he would go down there to take a long, relaxing jog in the surf.

"Kneel." he commanded Stephen, pointing to a spot next to his chair.

He was obeyed instantly. The slave's shoulders were tense again. Shane wondered what was going through his head. He was afraid - so much was for sure - but was it a diffuse fear of the unknown or a sharply defined fear of a known danger?

Shane carefully took a piece of the fish on his fork, sniffed it and then tasted it, relishing the rich flavour. Again the cooks of Silver Beach had outdone themselves - the fish practically melted on his tongue.

There really was only one way to find out what his slave was thinking.

"Are you afraid of me, Stephen?" Shane asked, not sparing his slave even a glance but instead carefully turning a piece of potato in the sauce and then savouring it.

He didn't except a quick answer and he didn't get it. He had eaten to more forks of fish when Stephen replied.

"Yes, master."

No news there.

"And what exactly are you afraid of?"

Again it took Stephen as while to answer.

"That you will kill me, master." he then answered with amazing honesty.

This time Shane took his time with phrasing his next question. He took a sip from the champagne, the cool liquid tickling in his mouth in the most pleasant way.

"Not afraid that I will hurt you?" he then asked.

"No, master."

That answer came immediately and it brought a grin to Shane's lips. Under other circumstances he might have taken that as a challenge to show the slave that he should always be afraid of pain. But not this time. This time he had other plans.

"I don't plan to hurt you." he told the boy, looking down at his bowed head now. "I plan to spend a relaxing holiday. I plan to fuck you senseless but if you continue to serve me as well as you have so far I will make sure you enjoy it."

A violent shudder ran through the boy at that announcement and Shane could see his fists clench at his side, his shoulders tensing up even more.

"Are you afraid of being fucked?" Shane consequently asked.

The answer didn't come quickly so Shane used the time to eat more fish.

"Yes, master." Stephen said at last in a tight, controlled voice.

Shane was more than a little pleased that the boy didn't try to lie.

"That is only natural for a first time." he said, keeping his tone casual, careless. "I'm sure you'll get used to it quickly enough."

Of course he planned for much more than 'get used to it'. He wanted Stephen to crave his master's touch. It was an incredible challenge to accomplish that in only four days but he loved a hard challenge.

Stephen didn't answer as he had not been asked a direct question and Shane was fine with that. He had heard what he had wanted to hear.

The rest of the dinner passed in silence.

With his plate emptied Shane leaned back in his chair and held out his Champaign glass for Stephen to refill. With a soft sigh he sipped and then leaned back far enough that his head rested on the back of the chair so he could see the large half moon that was partially obscured by a cloud. It looked like it would rain again soon. Just the weather that suited Shane's mellow mood.

"Clean up dinner." he told Stephen.

It didn't take the slave long to complete the task. When he was back at Shane's side, he got up from his chair. Without warning he grabbed Stephen in the neck, pulled him forward and claimed his mouth in a hungry kiss.

For a moment the slave struggled but then he forced himself to relax into the plundering of his mouth, pliant under Shane's hands.

He tasted delicious. Even better than dinner. Shane took his time tasting him.

At last released him, delighting in Stephen's direct fearful gaze. They stared at each other - predator and prey - both unable to look away for a long second.

Then Stephen broke eye contact, lowering his eyes.

Shane grinned.

"On the bed." he commanded. "I want to fuck you now."

 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll

go to PART 5

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