The Villain Duke's Butler Served Him Too Well novel · Chapter 9 of 24

Chapter 9: Exactly As I Say

"Exactly as I say" turned out to be hard work by seven the next morning.

"Fetch my coat," Leander said, at his dressing table.

Corwin fetched the coat and stood holding it, because Leander hadn't said to put it on him.

"Well?"

"My lord said to fetch it."

Leander's eyes narrowed in the mirror.

"Put it on me."

Corwin put it on him.

"Brush it."

Corwin brushed it for four full minutes, until Leander said, "That is enough," and he stopped on the word.

"Stand there."

Corwin stood by the door.

"Don't move until I tell you."

Leander walked to the window, then to the fire, then back to the window.

He did it twice.

Corwin stood like a lamp-post.

"You are doing this on purpose," Leander said.

"I am doing as my lord says."

"You are impossible."

"Yes, my lord."

Leander crossed to him and jabbed a finger into his chest.

"You think you're clever."

"No, my lord."

"Then take your coat off.

"Now your waistcoat.

"Now stop."

Corwin stopped with one button undone.

Leander stared.

Something unguarded went across his face, a flash of pure helplessness, and he turned his back.

"I don't know what to say," he muttered.

"You've always known before I said it.

"I have to think of it all myself."

"Does my lord want me to say?"

"No.

"Yes."

Leander pressed his knuckles to his mouth.

"Corwin, what do I want?"

It was the hardest question he could have asked, and the sweetest.

Corwin kept his voice low.

"You want to be certain I'm yours, my lord.

"You want to see me undone and know that nobody else can.

"You want to put me in a room full of people and have none of them know that I belong to you."

He watched the back of Leander's neck go red.

"Yes," Leander said.

"That."

He turned.

His eyes were enormous and dark in the daylight.

"Strip," he said.

"Hands on the wall.

"Don't move until I say.

"Don't speak unless I ask."

Corwin stripped.

He put both palms against the cool plaster and stood with his head bowed.

He heard Leander open the drawer, then the click of a small box, then the wet sound of oil.

"This is for you," Leander said behind him.

"I had it made last winter.

"I never thought I'd use it."

The thing Leander pressed to him was cool, smooth and heavy, silver, tapered to a rounded tip.

Corwin's knees nearly went.

"Ask for it."

"Please, my lord."

"Louder."

"Please put it in me.

"Please."

Leander did, slowly.

It stretched Corwin wide and went deep and settled with a weight that made him gasp, and he felt Leander's breath against his spine.

"Good," Leander said, roughly.

"That's good.

"You're holding it so well."

Corwin hadn't known a word could do that to him.

He had been praised for efficient reports and for excellent tea.

Nothing had ever gone through him like that one soft *good* from a man of twenty-one.

Then Leander's mouth was on him.

Leander dropped to his knees behind him, spread him with both hands, and licked a hot stripe up the back of his thigh.

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