Contents

At Your Service
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Other books by Alessandra Hazard
 At Your Service

A Masters series novella

Copyright © 2021 Alessandra Hazard

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author except
for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This story
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the
product of the author’s imagination.

www.alessandrahazard.com

_________

He’s a powerful man who makes decisions that shape
the world.

Troy is just a pleasure servant. A thing to be used. A
toy.

They have nothing in common, two men from different
worlds. The arrangement between them was never
supposed to become anything other than convenience for
his client and a job for Troy. Attraction and feelings should
have never entered into it.

But what happens if the rules are broken and Troy
becomes hopelessly addicted to his client?
__________








Chapter One

The mansion was handsome, huge, and kind of
intimidating.
Troy stared at its tall gates, took a deep breath, and
then pressed the buzzer. Here goes nothing.
“State your name and business,” a pleasant female
voice said through the intercom.
“Troy,” he said, wiping his sweaty hands on his
pants. “I’m the pleasure servant Master Andreas has
requested.”
The gates clicked open. “Master is in his office. First
floor, second door to the left.”
Troy followed the directions. He barely noticed the
luxurious surroundings, all his efforts focused on keeping
himself calm.
He could do it.
He could.
He was an experienced pleasure servant. He’d
studied for this. It was just a job. Like any other.
All right, not like any other. His new employer was a
man. The employer’s sex wasn’t an issue in itself: like
most Calluvians, Troy was bisexual. The problem was…
he’d never played a submissive role with men. The idea
just didn’t appeal to him. He always topped, whether he
was with women or men. That was why he always turned
down any job offers from male employers.
Until now.
Fuck, what a mess. He hadn’t gotten into a bigger
mess in the twenty-six years of his life.
The thing was, normally Troy would have rejected the
job outright as soon as he learned that his prospective
employer was a man. But it would be extremely foolish to
turn down a job offer when the prospective employer was a
member of the Chapter. He couldn’t exactly insult a Senior
Master of the Chapter. That would be beyond stupid.
Suicidal, if the rumors were to be believed.
Troy’s friends said he should be flattered that such a
powerful man had chosen him. Because apparently it was
an honor. Right. Such an honor, to have a powerful man’s
cock up his ass.
A laugh tickled Troy’s throat, extremely inappropriate
considering that he didn’t feel any amusement at all. Fuck,
he could only hope that he would be such a shitty pleasure
servant that he would be fired within a day. That was
Troy’s current plan. It had to work. He didn’t want to be
another man’s fuck-toy, no matter how powerful that man
was. He wasn’t a bottom. He didn’t have a submissive
bone in his body. He was a top, and an excellent one, if
Troy said so himself.
He stopped in front of the second door to the left,
took another deep breath, and knocked.
 “Enter,” said a deep male voice.
Troy did as he was told.
He closed the door and then knelt, his eyes on the
floor. “Master,” he said respectfully. At least he hoped it
sounded respectful instead of cocky. Troy knew he tended
to overcompensate when he was nervous.
He heard footsteps. Then, a pair of shiny black shoes
appeared in his line of sight. Gray slacks. Heavy black
robes. Troy couldn’t see anything else, because he wasn’t
supposed to look up without being given permission.
Pleasure servants were so low in the High Hronthar’s food
chain they weren’t allowed to look at a Senior Master
without being explicitly given permission.
A large, warm hand touched his chin and tipped his
face up. “You may look at me.”
Exhaling, Troy lifted his gaze.
He found himself looking at a tall man of unidentifiable
age. The man was fairly young for a Master. Thirty-five or
forty maybe? He wasn’t by any means beefy, but his
shoulders were broad and there was a hint of a fit body
under those black robes. Master Andreas wasn’t an
unattractive man, though his face was a little too sharp and
angular to be considered handsome. His dark red hair was
so dark it seemed almost black in the dim light, dark
stubble covering his strong jaw. Sharp brown eyes were
studying Troy carefully. He was a striking man, to be
honest. Not the type Troy usually went for, obviously—he
gave off an air of command that practically screamed that
he was a top—but still striking. Troy had eyes, and hot was
hot.
 “Rise,” the Master said.
Troy rose to his feet.
“Strip.”
Troy wet his lips with his tongue. Forcing himself to
keep his fingers steady, he did as he was told and took off
his robe. He was naked under it, of course. Pleasure
servants always were.
The Master’s dark eyes swept over him
dispassionately. “Turn.”
Troy turned.
There was a painting on the wall. It depicted
something abstract and ugly. Troy wasn’t sure what he was
supposed to be looking at. Art could be weird like that.
“Why are you so nervous?”
Suppressing the urge to deny it—he knew he had no
hope of fooling such a powerful telepath—Troy
said, “You’re my first male employer.” But the man had
probably already known that. Masters could access all
information about the pleasure servants, including their
employment history. Master Andreas couldn’t possibly
have missed that Troy hadn’t had a single male Master in
the five years since he’d become a pleasure servant.
“Turn back.”
Troy turned back.
Master Andreas studied him, his gaze
calculating. “Why did you choose to be a pleasure servant
if you’re scared of your job?”
Troy nearly laughed. Failed initiates with his looks
didn’t have much of a choice in the career they wished to
pursue. Or rather, they were strongly encouraged to
choose this career. And frankly, until now, Troy hadn’t
minded his job. It was very well paid, and sex was fun—he
generally didn’t mind pleasuring the female Masters who
had employed him.
But this was different.
“I’m not scared of my job,” he said. “I’m a little nervous
because of my lack of experience with men.” With
bottoming for men, he added mentally. He had hooked up
with quite a few men in the past, but that had been on his
terms.
The Master’s lips thinned. “I just skimmed your file—I
didn’t know about your lack of experience. That
complicates things.”
Hope flared inside him. “You can still choose another
servant,” Troy said, trying not to look too
hopeful. “Someone more experienced with men.”
Master Andreas’s gaze swept over him from head to
toe.
Troy licked his lips, acutely aware of his nudity in a
way he never had been in his life. Pleasure servants were
taught not to be ashamed of their bodies. Troy usually
didn’t mind people looking at him. He knew he was
objectively good-looking. All pleasure servants were, and
he was no exception. He was pretty tall, and he was in
great shape, his body toned with muscle. People seemed
to like the combination of sultry green eyes and messy
brown hair with golden highlights. His finely shaped,
cherry-red lips also attracted attention—women loved it
when he ate them out and men loved having Troy’s lips
around their cocks before he fucked them. But now Troy
couldn’t help but wonder how much his looks would appeal
to a man who wanted to fuck him.
For the first time in his life, he wished he were ugly.
“That won’t be necessary,” Master Andreas finally
said. “You’ll do.”
Nice.
“I’m just worried that I won’t be able to service you up
to your usual standards,” Troy said, choosing his words
carefully. He couldn’t afford to offend this man.
Master Andreas’s lips curled. “My standards are low.
All I need is a tight hole around my cock.”
Troy would have choked had he been drinking.
As it was, he stared at this man’s impassive face,
unable to believe that those words had really come out of
his mouth.
What was he even supposed to say to that?
“Do you know how to prepare yourself?” the Master
said. “That’s the only relevant skill you will need.”
Troy hated the heat rushing to his face. Fuck, he
wasn’t even the blushing type, but he felt so wrong-footed
here. He was a man. He did the fucking. He wasn’t used to
being treated like a hole. “I do,” he said in a stiff voice,
crossing his arms over his chest. “But it’s been years since
my training and I didn’t exactly get practice with my former
employers.”
“Then you’ll have to practice. I will need you at my
beck and call at all times, always ready for me. I don’t want
to waste time on preparing you.”
Troy bit the inside of his cheek, struggling to keep his
expression impassive. “I don’t understand, Master. What is
the urgency?”
Master Andreas looked away. “I’m an absorber.”
Troy frowned, trying to remember the half-forgotten
knowledge that had been drilled into him when he was an
initiate. Right—many of the Masters had special gifts.
Absorbers were telepaths who could sense and feel other
people’s sexual urges. The gift was considered one of the
most inconvenient gifts a telepath could have. It was rarely
useful, and Masters who had this talent normally didn’t
advertise it.
But now it made sense why Master Andreas would
need a pleasure servant at his beck and call: he was
probably sexually frustrated all the time because of his gift.
“My gift is inconvenient,” the Master said, as if reading
his thoughts. “It distracts me from my work; that’s why I
need the services of a pleasure servant. I am a busy man.
I have neither the patience nor the time to waste on sex. I’ll
be using you often but it should take as little of my time as
possible. I require efficiency. For that, you’ll have to keep
yourself prepared at all times. Is that clear?”
Troy gave a clipped nod. It still amazed him how this
man could talk about sex—very frequent sex—in such dry
terms, as if he were speaking about an unpleasant chore.
But then again, if Master Andreas was an absorber, he had
probably seen it all and sex just made him jaded and
bored.
“You will be given free access to my house,” Andreas
continued. “You might accompany me on my work trips if I
leave High Hronthar for more than a few days. Keep your
communicator on you at all times. If I call, you run.”
What a bossy motherfucker.
“Yes, Master,” Troy said in a carefully even voice.
“You will be paid triple the standard rate pleasure
servants normally receive.”
Troy perked up. Triple? Pleasure servants were paid
very well as it was, and triple the rate would mean that he
could finally buy the aircar he had been drooling over for a
while now. It kind of made him reconsider his plan to get
fired.
“I think it’s fair, considering how often I will require
your services—you will likely be more sore than usual. But
I’m sure you will be relieved to know that you won’t have to
do anything outside of your comfort zone. I’m a man of
simple desires.”
Troy nearly laughed. Nothing outside of his comfort
zone? Being fucked in the ass wasn’t exactly inside it. But
rationally, he knew Master Andreas was being entirely
reasonable. Some Masters were twisted bastards who got
off on humiliating and hurting their servants. Hell, Troy’s
previous Master was one, too.
Troy shuddered a little, remembering Master Thena.
She was into some really disturbing shit she hadn’t even
warned him about before they signed the contract. Master
Andreas couldn’t possibly be worse than she had been,
buttsex notwithstanding. What Master Andreas was
requesting seemed fairly straightforward. He could put up
with some uncomfortable buttsex before Master Andreas
inevitably realized that Troy sucked at bottoming and fired
him.
It wasn’t a big deal, really. As far as male employers
went, it seemed Troy had gotten lucky.
Andreas walked back to his desk. “Read the contract
and sign it,” he said, nodding toward the datapad on the
table.
Troy stepped to the desk, picked up the datapad, and
skimmed over the contract. He could feel impatience and
agitation radiating off the other man. He could also feel his
heavy gaze on his naked body.
He’d never been so aware of his body in all his life.
Don’t be an idiot, Troy told himself, exasperated with
his own uncharacteristic self-consciousness. The man
probably wasn’t even looking at him. He was imagining it.
Troy signed the contract electronically. “It’s done,” he
said and turned around.
Master Andreas was standing by the window, his back
to Troy. “Lubricant is in the top drawer of my desk,” he
said. “Prepare yourself.”
Troy stared at his back.
Just… Just like that? Not that he’d been expecting
flowers and kisses, but this man’s complete lack of interest
in him was weird. And pretty damn insulting, to be honest.
But he didn’t say anything.
Master Andreas was the employer. Troy was just
a servant. Troy probably didn’t even register as a person to
such a high-ranking Master. Sometimes it made Troy
frustrated and angry, but he wasn’t an idiot. Sure, it sucked
that he hadn’t been deemed good enough to become a
Master’s apprentice, but it wasn’t like he was a powerless
slave. He could always break the contract with his
employer if he was uncomfortable—if there was a serious
reason for it. Not being treated like an equal wasn’t
considered a serious reason. Members of the servicing
branch of the Order simply weren’t equal to the Masters.
They were second-class citizens. It was just the way it
was.
Troy retrieved the lube from the drawer and looked
around. There was a large leather couch in the corner by
the fireplace. He walked there and hastily prepared
himself, his face warm with embarrassment and
humiliation. Fuck, this was so demeaning. He was a man
preparing himself for another man’s cock. His own cock
was mostly soft—there was nothing remotely arousing
about the situation. Master Andreas was an objectively
attractive man, but Troy wasn’t into being fucked at all.
Whatever. He hadn’t expected to enjoy this. It was just a
job. The sooner it was over, the sooner he’d get paid. If
Master Andreas treated this like an unpleasant chore,
there was no reason Troy couldn’t do the same. A few
minutes of terrible sex was nothing to fear. It wasn’t going
to hurt physically. The only thing it would hurt was his pride
and masculinity.
“I’m ready,” he said, pulling his fingers out of himself.
He bent over the armrest of the couch and waited, looking
at the fire dancing merrily in the fireplace.
Just think about something else. Close your eyes and
think of the sweet aircar you’re going to buy.
There were footsteps behind him.
 Then there was the sound of a zipper being undone.
Troy caught his bottom lip between his teeth.
Firm fingers gripped his hip.
Troy closed his eyes as a blunt, thick object pressed
against his slicked opening. A cock. In one slow thrust, the
man was inside him. Fully inside him. And then he went
still, letting him adjust.
Troy breathed. In and out.
Fucking hell. He’d had dildos in him of course—all
pleasure servants did during their training. But either he’d
forgotten what they had felt like or Master Andreas’s cock
was a lot bigger than the dildos.
He had a cock inside of him. Another man’s cock.
All right. It was fine. He just needed to dissociate
himself and treat it like the minor inconvenience it was. It
wasn’t a big deal. It was just a physical act. Like arm
wrestling. Really, what was the difference between
between a cock moving inside an asshole and some arm
wrestling? Very little. It didn’t mean anything—
Troy’s eyes widened when Master Andreas started
moving.
Shit. Okay, it was a little different from arm-wrestling.
It was— It was a cock moving in his asshole. Thrusting.
Fucking him. It didn’t hurt. Some minor discomfort that he’d
felt at the beginning was now gone. The wet sounds were
kind of mortifying, even though rationally Troy knew it was
the natural lubricant exuded by Master Andreas’s cock. It
still sounded as if he were wet. Like a throwback, a
Calluvian male whose genes were more like their primitive
ancestors. Or a woman.
“You’re getting aroused,” Master Andreas noted,
moving in him methodically.
“What?” Troy half-laughed, because it was ridiculous
—
Except he was getting aroused. For no damn reason.
“It’s a natural reaction to stimulus,” Master Andreas
said. He didn’t even sound out of breath, the
bastard. “Your anal canal is an erogenous zone. The nerve
endings inside it are wired to give pleasure if properly
stimulated.”
“Can we please not talk about this?” Troy ground out,
his face hot. “Just get on with it.”
“Mind your tone,” Master Andreas said, somehow
sounding unimpressed despite his cock buried in Troy’s
asshole.
“Just get on with it, Master.”
He had half-expected to be punished for his
insolence, but he could feel something like amusement
emanating from the man behind him.
“Very well,” Master Andreas said, gripping his hip
harder. His thrusts became faster, deeper, his cock drilling
into him.
Troy panted, his eyes wide as he stared unseeingly at
the fireplace. Soon, the sound of skin slapping against skin
was the only sound in the room. The cock in him seemed
to become harder with every minute, eliciting a strange
sensation of dissatisfaction every time it pulled out. Fuck, it
felt… It felt…
 Oh gods.
Troy felt betrayed by his own body. He wasn’t into
being fucked at all; he liked fucking, dammit. He didn’t like
being fucked by strange men. And yet here he was, barely
holding back disappointed whines every time the cock
pulled out of him. It was bizarre—he’d never even liked
assplay much when he was fucked by a dildo during his
training. But it seemed a real cock attached to a man who
knew what he was doing made all the difference.
It suddenly occurred to Troy that Master Andreas’s
absorber talent probably helped him sense what was
enjoyable for Troy. Well, that was just cheating.
“You don’t have to make it good for me,” Troy
grumbled.
“You want to suffer through this?”
“Well, no—ah—but I don’t need to enjoy this—ah—to
get paid for it.”
Master Andreas spread his asscheeks with his fingers
and pulled his cock out, leaving only the head inside.
Troy swallowed a noise of protest. Fuck, why did he
feel so empty? He’d been fine without a cock in him all his
life.
“I’m not doing it for your sake,” the Master said,
teasing Troy’s slick entrance with his cockhead. “I’m an
absorber. The more enjoyable the act is for you, the more
enjoyable it is for me and the less time it will take me to
come. It’s more efficient that way.”
Efficient. All right, that made sense.
“Fine,” Troy said, trying to keep his hips still and not
push back onto the cock. He had his pride, dammit. Just
because his employer was forcing him to enjoy this
physically, it didn’t mean he was suddenly a cock slut. This
was just a job.
“So stubborn,” Master Andreas murmured, and finally
pushed back into him.
A moan left Troy’s lips before he could stop it. Fuck,
how did this feel so good?
The man finally started fucking him for real, his rhythm
increasing, faster and faster, the wet sound of the cock
moving inside a hole unmistakable. Troy had never been
more embarrassed and more turned on in his life.
“Touch your cock,” the Master commanded, his voice
slightly breathless but otherwise perfectly in control.
Troy did as he was told, stroking it hard and fast in
time with the man’s thrusts. Oh fuck, there. Fuck, so good.
Ah—
He came with a small, strangled moan, squeezing
around the cock in him. His pleasure seemed to push the
Master over the edge, and he shuddered and spilled deep
inside Troy.
Fuck.
Fucking hell.
Another man had just come in his ass. Inside him.
Troy stared at the fireplace with wide, dazed eyes,
unable to believe it really had happened. Unable to believe
how much he’d enjoyed it.
Master Andreas let out a satisfied sigh and pulled out.
 Troy shivered, the sensation strange. His hole felt
achy and sore, but also vaguely empty, which wasn’t a
comfortable feeling.
“You’re dismissed.”
Troy hastily dressed and left the room, his legs
unsteady and his face very warm.








Chapter Two


Ten days later, Troy was seated on the bed in his
bedroom in Master Andreas’s house, trying to focus on the
video chat with Gemma, the drop-dead gorgeous
apprentice he’d been flirting with for a while.
But no matter how beautiful Gemma was or how
interesting the story she was telling him was, he just
couldn’t fucking focus.
The plug in his asshole was really distracting, almost
as distracting as the thought that it had been hours since
the last time he serviced his Master. He would likely be
summoned soon. He didn’t want Gemma to hear that.
While she was aware that he was a pleasure servant, Troy
hadn’t told her that he’d been servicing a male Master. He
wasn’t sure how well she would take it. Maybe it wouldn’t
be a problem for her at all, but fuck, it would be so
humiliating if the woman he liked found out that Troy was
talking with her with a plug in his ass because his
employer ordered him to use it to keep himself stretched at
all times for his cock.
Master Andreas hadn’t been exaggerating when he
told him that he would be using Troy’s services often. Their
second time had happened five hours after their first time
having sex. Though calling the efficient, impersonal
act “sex” seemed largely inaccurate. Master Andreas just
bent him over his desk and used him in the same no-
nonsense manner, barely touching Troy’s body. His Master
liked efficiency. And frequency. The “sex” generally
happened three times a day, sometimes more often if
Master Andreas was around other people more.
The worst part was, despite the impersonal manner
his Master adopted, he still somehow managed to make
Troy enjoy the act—the act of taking a cock up the ass.
Troy felt his face become warm, his hole clenching
around the plug in him involuntarily. He grimaced at the
feeling. The plug wasn’t all that bad, just a little
uncomfortable, sometimes in a good way. He didn’t hate it,
but he didn’t love it, either—at least not the way his
traitorous body seemed to freakishly love his Master’s
thick cock. Master Andreas’s cock was hard but the texture
was soft and comfortable and—
Anyway. It had been three and a half hours since the
last time. He should probably wrap up his conversation
with Gemma before he was summoned. That would make
things awkward.
“Uh, I have to go,” Troy said distractedly.
Gemma’s face fell.
Ten days ago, the confirmation that such a gorgeous
woman was into him would have sent Troy over the moon,
but now he couldn’t seem to properly appreciate it, too
distracted by the prospect of getting fucked soon.
Troy sighed and flopped back on his bed once they
said their goodbyes.
 He didn’t like it. He didn’t like that his body had
become so accustomed to butt-fucking that now he
actually… kind of looked forward to it. Troy wished he
could detach himself from the act, treat it like just a job—it
was a job, after all. But he couldn’t. Try as he might, he
couldn’t seem to detach himself and ignore the cock being
stuffed into him every few hours. He was used to it by
now. Used to it to the point that not having a cock in him
had started feeling weird. Troy supposed it was true that
one could get used to anything, even being the fuck-toy of
an unfeeling, cold man.
All things considered, it could have been worse. A lot
worse. Noel, a fellow pleasure servant his age, was
currently servicing an old Master who looked old enough to
be his grandfather. Ugh. Taking into account how long
Calluvians lived and how slowly they aged, Troy didn’t
even want to think about Noel’s Master’s age. At least
Troy’s Master was relatively young and virile and… not bad
to look at. Not that Troy had seen much of Master
Andreas: the man never even undressed, just bent him
over and pulled his cock out. He truly treated sex like an
unpleasant chore he was impatient to get over with.
As if on cue, his communicator chimed.
Jerking into a sitting position, Troy answered it.
“My office,” Master Andreas said before
disconnecting.
Troy got to his feet and went downstairs, trying to
ignore the fact that his cock was already a little hard. He
knocked on the door to the Master’s office before entering
it.
“You wanted me, Master?” he said, staring at the man
seated behind the desk. Master Andreas seemed to be
working, his gaze on the holodata in front of him.
“Yes,” the Master said, without even glancing at
him. “Come over here. Use your mouth.”
Troy’s stomach dropped. Until now, his employer had
never requested this, preferring to just fuck him from
behind. Troy had sucked quite a few cocks when he’d
hooked up with men, and he didn’t have objections to
giving a blowjob. So this should have been a relief.
Then why wasn’t it? Where was this… disappointment
coming from? He couldn’t possibly be disappointed
because he wasn’t going to get fucked this time, right?
Right?
Shaking off the unsettling thought, Troy walked over
to the older man and dropped to his knees in front of him.
He unfastened Master Andreas’s pants and pulled out
his already hard cock.
Oh.
Troy licked his lips. He’d never seen it this close. It
was a great cock, if he were honest. He wished he had a
cock this nice. Not that his own cock was small—it wasn’t
—but this one was…
“Get on with it,” came an even voice.
Troy got on with it. He started by licking the cock like
a giant lollipop, getting used to the taste and feel of it.
He glanced up at Master Andreas from time to time,
but the cold bastard hadn’t even stopped reading
something on his datapad while Troy sucked his cock,
which was… kind of insulting. It pissed Troy off, so he
redoubled his efforts, determined to get a reaction.
The cock-sucking part was at least fine. Master
Andreas’s cock tasted good. It was nice and big, but not
intimidatingly so. It was a perfect size, very nicely shaped
too. Troy hummed around the cock in his mouth, bobbing
his head up and down the Master’s length, his noises the
only sound in the room. He glanced up and saw that
Master Andreas was watching him now, though he looked
back at his datapad as soon as Troy looked up.
Before Troy could wonder about it, there was a knock
on the door.
“Enter,” Master Andreas said.
Troy’s eyes widened. He tried to pull off the cock, but
a heavy hand on his head prevented it. “Keep sucking,”
Andreas murmured, his attention on the newcomer.
Troy stared at him indignantly, his body turning hot
with embarrassment—and some other feeling he couldn’t
name. But he did as he was told and went back to sucking,
trying to tune out the conversation between Master
Andreas and the other Master—Master Zaid.
Fuck, what must he look like, on his knees in front of
Master Andreas’s chair, sucking his cock in the presence
of another man? He’d never felt so emasculated. He felt
like a thing. A cock warmer.
“Nice,” Master Zaid commented idly and it took Troy a
moment to realize he was talking about him. “Will you
share, Andreas? I could use a mouth around my cock,
too.”
Troy tensed. Strictly speaking, a Master could share
their servant’s services with another: it wasn’t prohibited by
the contract.
It was fine. It would be fine. There was no reason for
his stomach to be churning like this. What difference did it
make, really? A cock was a cock.
But no matter what he told himself, the small, stupid
part of him that had once dreamed of being chosen by a
Master as an apprentice shied away from the idea of being
such an insignificant thing that his Master could just lend it
to another. It was fucking stupid and irrational; Troy knew
that. But that didn’t change how he felt.
Master Andreas buried his fingers in Troy’s hair and
tugged slightly, making him look up. Dark eyes studied him
intently, fingers stroking the bulge of his own cock through
Troy’s cheek.
“Should I lend you to Master Zaid?” Andreas said in a
quiet, casual voice, as if wondering aloud, but his
expression was sharp. There was something in those
brown eyes that made Troy think that he wasn’t as
indifferent toward the idea as he appeared.
Troy wanted to say no. He wanted to, but he knew it
wasn’t really a question. He’d signed away his right to say
yes or no. Besides, if he said that, Master Zaid would likely
take offense—and he was infamous in High Hronthar for
his cruelty and wicked sense of humor. You wouldn’t want
him as your enemy.
So he allowed his instincts to guide him: he let
Andreas’s cock slip out of his mouth and pressed his
cheek against it, looking at his Master from under his
lowered eyelashes. He dragged his lips against the leaking
length. I want your cock, Master, he thought as loudly as
he could, hoping he would pick up his thoughts. Just yours.
 Master Andreas’s nostrils flared.
He pushed his cock back into Troy’s waiting mouth. “I
require his services myself, Zaid,” he said, his fingers
burying in Troy’s hair and pushing him onto his cock. His
dark gaze remained on Troy, not sparing Master Zaid even
a glance.
Master Zaid said something, but Troy could no longer
even hear it, his eyes helplessly caught in his Master’s as
his mouth was thoroughly used. Fuck, there was
something so shameless, so dirty about this.
Troy closed his eyes, losing himself in the feeling of a
cock moving inside his mouth, stretching his lips wide. He
completely tuned out the conversation in the room,
focusing only on Master Andreas’s fingers idly stroking his
hair as he fucked his mouth. It felt… It felt nice. He couldn’t
remember the last time anyone touched him with such
gentleness. Like everyone in High Hronthar, he was an
orphan without any family, and while he had a few friends,
they weren’t really the type to touch each other. Being
touched this way… feeling strong fingers rake over his
scalp… it felt so damn nice. So pleasant. So different from
his female Masters—they wanted him to touch them, and
they rarely were very affectionate.
Troy barely registered Master Zaid leaving, all his
senses focused on the fingers in his hair and the cock in
his mouth. He felt warm. So very warm.
“Come up here,” Master Andreas said. “I want to finish
in your ass.”
Disgustingly eager, Troy slipped his robe off and
climbed into the man’s lap.
 Dark eyes raked over his naked body, unreadable but
intense, lingering on his hard cock. It took his Master only
a moment to pull out the plug in his ass and replace it with
his cock.
Troy’s mouth fell open in a silent moan as he was
filled to the brim, the cock in him stretching him so damn
good.
Maybe being the pleasure servant of this man wasn’t
all that bad, after all.
It was his last thought for a long while.








Chapter Three


Troy wasn’t sure what it said about him that he
couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in his
apartment. It had been a month since he started servicing
Master Andreas, and he honestly struggled to remember
the last time he had spent more than a few hours a day at
his apartment in District One. Master Andreas’s mansion in
the Masters’ district was the place he spent the majority of
his time now, so it made sense to move some of his stuff to
his room there. Just for convenience’s sake, of course. It
simply wasn’t practical to leave his stuff at his apartment
and constantly go back to it if he needed something.
Besides, Master Andreas didn’t seem to mind or give
much of a damn what Troy was doing as long as he
serviced him well and often. And Troy definitely serviced
him well and often.
His plan to get himself fired was long forgotten by
now. The job was… fine. That was the word, yep.
“Ah, ah, there,” he moaned into the carpet as Master
Andreas’s cock pistoned in and out of him.
They were on the floor of the living room. They didn’t
make it to the bedroom—Master Andreas had been on him
the moment he arrived home, looking visibly agitated. It
was a good thing Troy was still sloppy and stretched from
their previous fuck—he didn’t even need to use the plug
these days—so all it had taken was for his Master to pull
his cock out and flip Troy’s robe up.
A firm hand squeezed his nape, pressing Troy’s face
harder against the lush carpet. The hard cock inside him
thrust in and out, Master Andreas’s body solid and heavy
on top of him. It felt—gods—indescribable. The thickness
in him, the firmness of that cock, stretching him, the weight
of this man on top of him. It felt so emasculating, but so, so
good. High-pitched whines left his mouth at every thrust,
his cock aching, his balls heavy between his legs as
Master Andreas fucked him hard.
“You love this,” the Master stated in a voice so low it
sounded like a growl. He squeezed Troy’s neck and
stopped thrusting. “Admit it.”
“I love it,” Troy babbled, incoherent with the need to
be fucked, deeper, more. “Move, come on.”
“Beg.”
A month ago, he would have balked. He would have
scoffed. A month ago he hadn’t been so addicted to this
feeling.
“Please,” Troy said, trying to impale himself on the
cock. “Please give it to me, Master. Please please please.”
And Master Andreas gave it to him.
His weight fully on top of Troy now, he pushed back
into his sloppy hole and started fucking him hard and fast.
And Troy absolutely lost it, moaning in pure bliss. Yes,
yes—yes—
 He came so hard he saw stars, and then he came
again when he felt his Master come, too—or at least it felt
like it. He sighed in bliss, the telepathic pleasure loop
almost too much. It had been happening more often lately,
Master Andreas’s pleasure bleeding through his mental
shields.
Or maybe it was Troy’s mental shields that were
becoming compromised. Maybe he’d become too
comfortable with this man and let his guard slip.
The thought was a little alarming, but not alarming
enough to penetrate through the fog of bliss in Troy’s mind.
He barely stopped a whine when Master Andreas
started pulling out of him. He always hated that part. It left
him feeling vaguely empty and wrong. Not to mention that
as soon as the Master pulled his cock out of him, Troy’s
higher brain functions returned and he started feeling
embarrassed by the way he had behaved. Like the worst
kind of cock slut. Fuck, what was happening to him?
“I don’t know why you do it to yourself,” Master
Andreas said, rolling off of him onto his back and sighing in
contentment.
Troy rolled onto his back too and stared at the ceiling.
“Do what?”
“Feel embarrassed by the natural response of your
body to me.”
Troy pulled a face, his cheeks warm. There was
nothing fucking natural about the way he turned into a slag
for his employer’s cock.
“It’s just weird,” he said, running a hand through his
messy hair. “I didn’t used to like being fucked. Until you.
But now I’m all…” He shrugged, unable to say it. “It’s
weird.”
Master Andreas propped himself on an elbow and laid
a hand on Troy’s chin, forcing him to turn his head to him.
Troy did so, reluctantly.
Dark brown eyes were studying him in a way that
made Troy feel uncomfortable. Transparent.
“Why do you find being on the receiving end of
penetrative sex demeaning? It’s just sex. It doesn’t make
you lesser just because you don’t play a dominant role.”
Troy scoffed, unable to hold his gaze. “Easy for you to
say. Why won’t you let me fuck you, then?”
Master Andreas shrugged. “I tried it when I was young
and I didn’t find it all that enjoyable. But you do. Very much
so.”
Glaring at him half-heartedly, Troy bit the inside of his
cheek. “I’m not…” He trailed off, hating himself a little for
his inability to lie to this man. “I always wanted to be
chosen by a Master,” he said quietly, fixing his eyes on
Master Andreas’s shoulder. “As an apprentice, obviously.
I’m a Class 4 telepath—pretty strong. My instructors said
that initiates like me usually got chosen. I thought I was
good enough.” He smiled, hoping it didn’t look too
bitter. “But I wasn’t. No Master picked me as their
apprentice, so I ended up in the servicing department.” He
looked at the ceiling again. “When the Coordinator
suggested that I’d do well as a pleasure servant, it seemed
like such a joke, you know? Going from my ambitions of
being a Master some day to being a fuck-toy for various
Masters. It was very—disheartening, I guess.” Troy
chuckled. “I didn’t want to be a pleasure servant. But it
turned out my talents were limited even as a servant. I
didn’t have aptitude for any other job in the servicing
department. So in the end I had little choice besides
becoming a pleasure servant.”
There was also the option of leaving High Hronthar
entirely and going to live with the outsiders, but that option
had been too daunting. Failed initiates weren’t forced to
stay in the Order, but leaving meant cutting off all ties to
your old life. Troy didn’t fancy the prospect of having his
memories wiped and never seeing his friends here again.
“So yeah,” Troy said with a crooked smile. “It’s not like
I had a lot of other options. And the job isn’t all that bad.
It’s just sex. I’m good at sex. But I made myself a promise
that I’d retain some degree of control, even if it’s an illusion
—that I’d never—” He cut himself off, feeling deeply
uncomfortable. He’d already said more than he’d ever told
anyone.
“I see.”
When Troy finally found the courage to look at him,
Master Andreas’s gaze was fixed on him with a strange,
soft expression Troy couldn’t quite read.
“You shouldn’t be a pleasure servant if you don’t want
to be one,” he said at last.
Troy let out a laugh. “Spoken as a privileged member
of the Chapter. It’s not that simple, Master.”
“Andreas.”
When Troy just looked at him blankly, the Master
clarified, “You may call me Andreas.”
 Troy could only stare at him, stunned and unsure how
to respond to that. It was unheard of for a pleasure servant
to call a Master—much less a Senior Master of the
Chapter—by his name. Heck, pleasure servants weren’t
allowed to lift their eyes at a Master without being given
explicit permission. This was completely unprecedented.
It made him feel… like a person. Not just a talentless
servant who was only good enough to be a fuck-toy. A
person.
Before Troy could stop himself, he leaned in and
pressed his lips against his Master’s. He felt Andreas
stiffen slightly, and then a hand buried in Troy’s hair and
Andreas was kissing him back.
Oh.
Troy had never been much for kissing. He saw little
point in it. What was sexy about exchanging spit and
tasting whatever the other person had eaten recently?
But gods, the confident, self-possessed way Andreas
kissed was incredibly, toe-curlingly satisfying. It went
straight to Troy’s cock. It made him whimper and open his
mouth wider, wanting that tongue deeper. Fuck…
Wrapping his arms around his Master, Troy pulled him
on top of him and spread his legs. It seemed like the most
natural thing in the world to find Andreas’s hardening cock
and line it up with his entrance. Troy was a little sore and
wasn’t even fully hard yet, but didn’t care: he wanted this
man inside him, now.
He moaned into Andreas’s mouth when he got what
he wanted.
Yes, yes, please.







Chapter Four


Kissing was a small thing. It shouldn’t have changed
anything.
But it did.
It made the sex less impersonal. More intimate. It
made Troy realize that lust and want weren’t the same
thing. When he looked at Andreas, he wanted. He wanted
to touch and be touched. To kiss and be kissed. Want
made him eager for Andreas’s return. Want made him feel
all tingly on the inside when Andreas’s lips curled into a
smile—and Troy just had to kiss him again. And again, and
again, and again. And one more time.
Want was a horrible little monster inside him that
seemed to only crave more the more Troy fed it.
So he kept feeding it. Because he wasn’t sure what
would happen if he stopped.

***

There was a rule that Troy’s instructors had always
told them: Don’t get attached to your employer. Every
pleasure servant knew how important that rule was. Troy
did, too. He’d always scoffed when he heard stories of
pleasure servants falling for their employers. Idiots, he had
thought of them.
And now…
Troy was self-aware enough to notice that he was
getting a little fixated. A little bit attached. He was aware
that he liked Andreas more than he had liked all his
previous employers put together. Andreas just made him
feel… good. Andreas didn’t treat him like a thing. Troy
liked the way Andreas looked at him, his dark eyes
attentive and focused. He liked the way Andreas touched
him—assertive but gentle. Troy liked spending time with
him, liked sharing meals with him, liked kissing him
goodbye and waiting for him at home. He even liked
watching him work.
He knew he was treading dangerous waters, but he
was still confident that he had it under control. He totally
did.
Really.

***

Troy looked at his watch and pursed his lips. It was
midnight already.
Strictly speaking, Andreas hadn’t told him to wait for
him, because this session of the Chapter was very likely to
be a long one, but Troy had decided to wait for him
anyway. His Master was usually keyed up after spending
hours in close quarters with several dozen people—
that inevitably made him absorb some of their sexual
urges. Andreas was going to need him.
Troy yawned and looked longingly at the bed.
Andreas’s bed.
They seldom had sex in bed, and on the rare
occasion that they did, Troy had never stayed in that bed
after sex. But he knew the mattress was soft and
comfortable. Lying down just for a moment wouldn’t hurt,
right?
Troy stretched out on the bed with a pleased sigh.
The cool sheets felt amazing against his bare skin.
Turning onto his stomach, he pressed his face against
the pillow. It smelled really good. Troy breathed in deeply,
and then again and again, before realizing that what he
was so greedily inhaling was Andreas’s scent. His
aftershave.
Troy paused and then took another guilty breath. It
just smelled nice, okay?
“I thought you would have left by now.”
Flushing, Troy turned onto his back and quickly sat
up. “Do you want me to go? I thought you’d need me—my
services tonight, but if you’re tired, I’ll go.”
Dropping his black robes on the chair, Andreas shook
his head. “I am tired, but I was seated next to Master Ervis
tonight and…” He grimaced. “Let’s just say the man thinks
about sex far too often for a 127-year-old.”
Laughing, Troy got to his feet. “C’mere, let me help
you undress.” He unbuttoned Andreas’s shirt unhurriedly
while Andreas just watched him with dark eyes.
“What?” Troy said, a smile tugging at his lips.
Andreas shrugged and said nothing, still watching
him.
Feeling weirdly flustered, Troy finished undressing
him and pushed him toward the bed.
It was the first time Troy had seen his Master fully
naked.
He was gorgeous: all smooth muscle without being
too beefy. Andreas lay back against the pillows, watching
him through heavy-lidded eyes as Troy trailed his lips
down his body, kissing his pecs, his hard abs, before finally
taking his stiff cock into his mouth.
“Look at me,” Andreas ordered. “Keep your eyes on
me.”
Troy did as he was told, holding his Master’s gaze as
he sucked his cock. It felt unbearably intimate. And
incredibly arousing. Troy found himself humping his cock
against the mattress while Andreas took pleasure in his
mouth.
Afterward, he fell asleep right there, sated and
content, with his Master’s taste still on his lips.
He woke up on his side, feeling so very warm and
good. It took him a moment to realize that the weight on
his waist was Andreas’s arm. The familiar hardness was
pressed against his ass, but Andreas seemed content
enough to hold him.
Troy hummed, enjoying how much better it was to feel
bare skin against his bare skin. “We should do this in bed
more often,” he mumbled, entwining his fingers with
Andreas’s.
“We should,” Andreas agreed, sucking bruises on his
neck.
Troy smiled, turning his head and rubbing his lips
against Andreas’s stubbled cheek. Andreas slotted their
mouths together and Troy kissed him back greedily,
uncaring about morning breath. Fuck, this man.
It was the best morning he’d had in a long time.

***

It wasn’t the last.
Troy wasn’t sure how it had happened, but after that
night, he found himself spending most nights in Andreas’s
bed. They never really talked about it, but it kept
happening again and again. Andreas didn’t seem in a
hurry to kick him out of his bed after sex, and Troy felt too
lazy to leave when he could just stay there in Andreas’s
arms and exchange lazy kisses until they both fell asleep.
Sometimes he awoke in the middle of the night and
just soaked it up, the way Andreas’s arms felt around him,
solid and warm. He liked it. He liked listening to Andreas’s
even breathing. He liked falling asleep to the sound of it. It
was like the best lullaby in the world.
Warning bells were starting to ring in the back of his
mind, but Troy ignored them, burying his face against
Andreas’s chest and letting Andreas’s steady heartbeat lull
him back into sleep.

***

Time passed oddly. Sometimes months seemed to
pass at the speed of light, and sometimes time seemed to
crawl at a snail’s pace. Time tended to drag when Andreas
was away from High Hronthar, though lately he took Troy
with him on all his trips off-planet, no matter how short the
trip was.
Troy loved it. He knew these trips were for business,
but they still felt like vacations, especially that time
Andreas took him to the paradise planet Neone. After
Andreas’s business was concluded, they spent several
days just lazing about on the gorgeous beach and having
sex all the time.
The sand was annoying, but Troy didn’t mind.
It felt like he was grinning all the time.

***

Troy had been working for Andreas for seven months
when the subject came up for the first time.
“What do you think about a merge?” Andreas
murmured, breaking the companionable silence that had
settled over them after sex.
Troy opened his eyes, though he couldn’t see much,
since his face was buried against his Master’s side. He
chuckled. “Is that a hypothetical question?”
Andreas went silent, tracing his fingers over Troy’s
bare arm idly.
“Do you want it to be?” he said at last.
Wetting his dry lips, Troy pulled back a little to look
him in the eyes. “Are you serious?” he whispered.
Andreas’s gaze was steady. “I’m not pressuring you,”
he said. “It’s not in our contract. You can—and you should
—say no if you don’t want to do it. The risks are not small.
I’m a Class 5 telepath, and that means—”
“I want to try,” Troy blurted out, a little embarrassed by
his own eagerness but too afraid that Andreas would
retract his offer before he could agree. A telepathic merge
was the most intimate act their species could engage in.
People said that it was more intimate and more pleasant
than sex. Troy wasn’t sure he believed it, but he had
always been curious about it. The problem was, telepathic
merges were allowed to be practiced only by a trained
Master. Untrained pleasure servants like him were strictly
prohibited from practicing them—for good reason.
A telepathic merge was basically an act of baring your
mind to another’s. A high-level telepath with malicious
intent could do anything to you during the merge, even
make your heart stop. It didn’t help that telepathic merges
were known to be highly addictive if there was high mental
compatibility. They supposedly felt very, very good.
“Are you sure?” Andreas said, laying his fingers just
below Troy’s left ear, where his telepathic point was
located. Although his face was mostly impassive, there
was hunger in his eyes now, deep and predatory. It was
obvious he wanted it badly. It was kind of touching that he
still wanted to make sure Troy really wanted it.
Troy nodded. “I’m sure,” he said with a faint smile, his
stomach full of butterflies. Fuck, the mere idea of having
this man so deep inside him that he could feel him inside
his mind was… as scary as it was exhilarating.
Andreas eyed him a moment before shaking his head
and taking his hand away. “You aren’t ready yet.”
Troy frowned. “Why not?”
Smiling a little, Andreas tapped Troy’s bottom lip with
his thumb. “Don’t sulk. It’s for your own good. Think about
it for a few days at least. I don’t want to pressure you into
doing it.” Something shifted in his expression. “Frankly, it’s
very frowned upon to do it with a pleasure servant who
isn’t certified in mental pleasure. I’m supposed to hire
another servant for something like this.”
Troy’s stomach churned. “I can do it,” he said quickly,
tightening his arm around Andreas’s waist. “I want to do it!”
Andreas shook his head. “Three days. I’ll ask you
again in three days, and if you still want it, we’ll do it.”
“I don’t see any point in waiting,” Troy said, feeling far
more disappointed than he probably should have. “My
answer won’t change. Nothing will change in three days.”
“Troy.”
Sighing, Troy nuzzled into his bicep. “Fine,” he said,
trying not to frown visibly. He wasn’t sulking, dammit. He
was a grown man. “Three days.”
It felt like time dragged forever, and by the end of the
third day Troy felt like punching someone. Preferably
himself, to knock some sense into his head.
He had ended up being both correct and horribly
wrong: his opinion hadn’t changed, but it would be
incorrect to say that nothing had. With every passing day,
he had felt more jittery and impatient, irrationally paranoid
that Andreas would change his mind and decide to employ
the services of a professional mind pleasure servant
instead of settling on him.
Not that it was any of his business if his Master
decided to do it. Of course it wasn’t. Troy understood it. He
totally did. But it did nothing to erase the fierce, ugly urge
to wrap himself around Andreas and snarl—
Fuck, these possessive thoughts creeped him out. It
was a good thing Troy generally wasn’t one to overthink
stuff or he would be losing sleep over it. His favorite way of
dealing with inconvenient emotions was generally ignoring
them until they went away. So he just did his best to ignore
those inane thoughts. They didn’t mean anything. The only
thing they meant was that he might have gotten a little
attached. A teeny bit. A very teeny bit. So teeny that it
wasn’t worth stressing over.
Right.
As the evening of the third day rolled around, Troy
was prepared. Some would say overprepared, even. He
was literally trembling with impatience. Although he had
stopped using plugs months ago, he had put one inside
him that afternoon. He didn’t think he could wait a single
moment after Andreas’s arrival home.
He wanted his Master inside him. He wanted him to
touch his telepathic core, stroke it with his own, until he
was everywhere. In his every cell. Inside him.
Fuck, why was thinking about it turning him on? He’d
never even experienced a telepathic merge; why was he
so convinced it would feel amazing? It was the most
invasive form of telepathic touch. He should have been
scared. Or at least apprehensive. Not inappropriately
aroused.
And yet Troy was sporting a full erection by the time
Andreas arrived. His Master paused in the doorway of his
bedroom, his gaze sharpening as he took in Troy’s
agitated, flushed form in his bed. His very naked form.
His gaze fixed on him, Andreas let his black robes
drop to the floor, staying only in his black shirt and
trousers.
Fuck, he was so hot. His tall, fit body, his angular face
and intense brown eyes.
Troy’s cock throbbed, painfully hard.
“That’s a warm welcome,” Andreas murmured.
Troy couldn’t even make himself flirt. Looking him in
the eyes, he spread his legs wantonly and slowly pulled
the plug out of his hole. Fuck, a part of him—a very distant
part of him—couldn’t believe his shameless behavior. If
someone had told him seven months ago that he would be
spreading his legs so eagerly for another man like the
worst kind of cock slut, he’d have punched them.
Yet here he was. Aroused and eager for another
man’s cock, meeting him with a plug in his butt like a well-
trained whore.
Troy shivered, spreading his thighs wider, perversely
enjoying how slutty he felt, enjoying the desire he could
read in Andreas’s eyes. He felt sexy. Desirable. It was a
heady feeling.
“Get in me,” he said, looking from Andreas’s eyes to
the noticeable bulge at the front of his trousers. “Want you
inside me when you merge us.”
Andreas’s throat worked. “I don’t think it’s a good
idea,” he said. “I might lose control that way. I might hurt
you.”
Don’t care.
Troy swallowed the stupid words and said something
only marginally less stupid. “I trust you.”
Andreas’s gaze seemed to darken. “Don’t be foolish,”
he said, but he was already moving forward.
When Andreas’s naked body settled on top of him,
Troy moaned in bliss. His moan became high-pitched
when Andreas’s cock entered him in one hard thrust. Yes,
yes, please. Gods, it was the best fucking feeling in the
world: the way he was stretched to his limit, the way
Andreas’s cock rubbed against the sensitive walls of his
hole. He couldn’t get enough. Surely nothing could feel
better than this.
He was wrong.
His eyes flew open when Andreas’s mind slipped
inside his. There were no words to describe this feeling.
He whimpered as he felt Andreas delving deeper and
deeper, rubbing against his very core, amplifying the
pleasure he felt. He could suddenly see himself through
Andreas’s eyes: his face flushed, his red lips open in a
silent moan, his eyes glazed over, his hips moving back to
meet Andreas’s thrusts, greedily impaling himself on his
cock. He looked obscene. He looked like something from
porn. He could also feel how good it felt to fuck into his
tight, slick hole, how drunk he felt on the sight of Troy
falling apart on his cock, under his touch, under him—
beautiful—such a beautiful boy.
Troy glared at him weakly, wishing he felt
offended. “Not a boy,” he managed, before pulling Andreas
down and dragging him into a greedy kiss. Fuck, he
wanted to consume him, to have him inside him in every
possible way. The deeper he had him, the more insatiable
he felt.
It was honestly starting to freak him out.
Even when he came, he still wanted more, despite the
best, most intense orgasm of his life.
“Stay in me,” he demanded, panting, his legs wrapped
tightly around Andreas’s hips and his telepathic core
pulsing with contentment.
Andreas stayed.








Chapter Five


“Stop glancing at your watch! Come on, what’s wrong
with you?”
Troy dragged his gaze away from his watch and gave
Yulia a wan smile. “I’m fine,” he said, forcing himself to
look engaged and interested in whatever his friends were
discussing.
It was his day off. He really needed to break himself of
the habit of watching the time. Andreas had said he
wouldn’t need him today.
But instead of reassuring him, the thought made his
stomach clench.
Was Andreas getting tired of him?
“Hey, Troy,” Noel said, snapping him out of his
thoughts.
It was a relief. He didn’t like the direction of his
thoughts lately, didn’t like how obsessive they had gotten.
How needy.
“What?” he said, shifting his gaze to the other
pleasure servant.
 Noel had a curious expression on his face. “So have
you found a new job already?”
Troy blinked. “What?”
Shooting him a puzzled look, Noel frowned. “A new
job? Hasn’t it been close to a year since you started
working for Master Andreas? Your contract should be
ending soon, right?”
Troy stared at him.
Right.
Contract.
How could he have forgotten? To be fair, he hadn’t
worked for the same employer this long before—Masters
tended to get bored with pleasure servants easily and most
contracts were terminated after a few months. The longest
Troy had been employed for before was six months. He’d
never lasted a year, so the rule that a pleasure servant
must change Masters after a year hadn’t been relevant for
him. He’d completely forgotten about it, to be honest.
Until now.
His stomach twisting into a tight, uncomfortable knot,
Troy licked his dry lips. “Not yet,” he heard himself say, his
tone wooden.
But thankfully, Noel didn’t seem to have noticed
anything amiss.
“Master Sawn is terminating my contract, so I’m
looking for a new employer, too,” Noel said. “Maybe you
can put in a good word for me with Master Andreas?”
Troy balled his hands into fists under the table. He
had to actively quash the urge to bare his teeth at Noel like
a feral animal and tell him to fuck off.
Shit, what was wrong with him? His friend had said
nothing wrong. Noel was right. It had been a year. Troy
should be looking for a new employer and Andreas should
be looking for a new servant. In fact, it was entirely
possible that his Master had already found a new servant.
Why would Andreas give him a day off today all of a
sudden? Maybe he wanted to interview a prospective
pleasure servant without Troy being there. Maybe he even
wanted to give another pleasure servant a test run.
“Man, what’s wrong with you?” Noel said, looking at
him warily. “Your telepathic aura is kind of…”
“I’m fine,” Troy ground out, slamming his mental
shields up and trying to untangle the poisonous knot in his
stomach.
Breathe. Breathe, damn you. You don’t own him. He’s
just your employer. Employer. Who soon won’t even be
your employer.
Troy repeated that mantra on the way home—on the
way to his employer’s home.
He repeated that mantra as he entered the house,
hating himself for even needing to repeat it.
It was just a habit, he told himself. He had simply
gotten used to Andreas, to his kisses, to his body on top of
him, to his cock inside him. He’d gotten used to being
comfortable and at ease. It was natural that frequent
physical intimacy and mind-blowing orgasms coupled with
frequent telepathic merges had created something of an
attachment. He’d known that he’d gotten a little bit
attached over the past year. It wasn’t a big deal. He could
get over it.
He would get over it.
It wasn’t a problem. He refused to be one of those
cautionary tales they all heard as trainees.
“Troy?”
Troy stopped in his tracks before his head whipped
toward the sound of Andreas’s voice.
He swept his gaze over his tall form, hating himself for
looking for any sign of sex.
He found none. Andreas looked his normal, self-
assured self. He wasn’t wearing his robes, dressed only in
black slacks and a soft-looking dark gray sweater that
hugged his broad shoulders and leanly muscular frame.
Brown eyes were looking at him with something
unidentifiable in them.
“You seem perturbed,” Andreas stated, walking over.
Before Troy could stop himself, his telepathic
presence was already reaching out greedily and touching
his Master’s.
Andreas’s expression didn’t change, but his
telepathic aura sharpened, becoming questioning. It
enveloped Troy’s, almost as familiar as his own after
months of intimacy.
Troy could barely stop a moan, his cock already
hardening and his fingers twitching to reach out and touch,
run his hands through Andreas’s hair, over that muscular
chest, then slip under the sweater. Involuntarily, his lips
parted, wanting kisses and then a tongue between them,
something to suck on to find an outlet for the want that
pulsed under his skin. He wanted to consume this man. Or
rather, he wanted to be consumed by him.
Just your employer, he reminded himself sharply,
annoyed. Annoyed and a great deal disturbed. Although
he’d been well aware of the increasingly strong desire he’d
started feeling for his Master, this needy, desperate edge
to it had never been more disturbing. The year was up.
The year was up.
“It’s been a year,” Troy blurted out as his Master laid
his hands on Troy’s waist and pulled him close. His
thoughts were already clouding, his lips trembling with
impatience. Kisses. He wanted kisses. He wanted
Andreas’s mouth on him.
Andreas gave him a steady look Troy couldn’t quite
read. “Indeed it has,” he said, his tone neutral.
“Have you found another pleasure servant already?”
Troy said, trying to keep his voice just as neutral—and not
at all like there was acid eating his flesh from within.
Brown eyes looked at him in a manner that seemed
assessing. “Do you want me to find one?”
Troy blinked a few times, at a loss. “Does it matter
what I want? It’s the rule. Masters aren’t allowed to keep
the same pleasure servant for more than a year.” He
wasn’t even sure why this rule existed in High Hronthar—
though no, he did remember now that he thought about
it. He could vaguely remember some story from a few
centuries ago about a pleasure servant falling in love with
her Master and then killing the Master’s apprentice out of
jealousy. The rule had been implemented to discourage
pleasure servants from getting too attached to their
Masters.
“The rule,” Andreas repeated, still looking at him
strangely. “I’m not asking about the rule. I’m asking
whether you want me to find a new servant.”
“I… I don’t understand,” Troy managed.
Was this some kind of test?
Andreas sighed and stepped back, a flicker of
emotion crossing his dark eyes. He clasped his arms
behind his back, looking at Troy with an unreadable
expression. “The rules exist for a reason. But they can be
broken. In fact, they get broken all the time without any
consequences by certain Masters.”
“Really?” Troy said, his eyebrows drawing
together. “By who? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Castien had kept the same pleasure servant for
years before finally dismissing him some time ago.”
“Castien?” Troy repeated, stunned. “You mean
Grandmaster Idhron?” When Andreas gave a nod, Troy
looked at him intently. “Why? Did he… did he get attached
to his pleasure servant?” It was sickening how much he
wanted Andreas to confirm it, to confirm that sometimes
Masters got attached to lowly pleasure servants, too.
But to his disappointment, Andreas shook his head,
his lips curling. “Not at all. I strongly suspect the only
reason Castien kept that servant for so long was because
of the servant’s strong resemblance to his apprentice. He
fucked him because he couldn’t fuck his apprentice.”
“You can’t know that,” Troy grumbled, trying to hide
his disappointment.
Andreas’s smile turned wry. “Trust me, I do. I have
been in the same room with Castien and his apprentice
often enough to know exactly what the supreme
Grandmaster of the Order feels for his apprentice.”
Troy laughed. “Your gift must be so weird when you
interact with other Masters. How can you look them in the
eye when you can sense all their dirty thoughts and
urges?”
Andreas shrugged, but his eyes were laughing. “It can
be challenging to keep a straight face sometimes,” he
admitted before his gaze became serious again. “As you
see, there are precedents for Masters breaking that rule.”
Troy’s heart jumped. Was Andreas actually
offering…?
He opened his mouth to say that of course he wanted
to stay, but he didn’t want to appear too eager. Too
attached. Too pathetic.
When the silence stretched, Andreas spoke
again. “There’s also another option,” he said. “A better
option for you. I can assign you to another job.”
For a moment, Troy was sure he’d heard it wrong.
What?
He must have said it aloud, because Andreas
replied, “It’s very unusual, yes. Normally, servants aren’t
allowed to change their field of work once they are
assigned to it. In fact, it would be a more serious breach of
the rules than keeping you as my servant. But it can be
done.”
 Troy shook his head dazedly. “I’m not—I’m not good
at anything else. I failed my aptitude tests.” It would have
been humiliating to say that to anyone else, but Andreas
already knew that.
His Master’s eyes softened a little. “You may not have
aptitude for specialized fields, but you can still work some
office jobs that don’t require a particular aptitude. In fact,
the old High Hronthar monastery is in need of a clerical
worker right now. I’ve inquired about it today. The job is
yours if you want it.”
Just like that?
Troy couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Servants didn’t
just change their field of work like that. It wasn’t done.
Pleasure servants didn’t become respectable clerks in the
monastery. It was… It was…
His vision suddenly blurry, Troy turned his back to
Andreas and blinked the wetness away.
“You’re upset,” Andreas stated.
Troy felt him step closer and put his hands on his
shoulders.
The urge to sag back into this man and feel his arms
around him was so strong Troy had to use all his willpower
not to do it.
“No,” he choked out with a laugh. Though he wasn’t
being entirely truthful. It was upsetting to know that all one
needed to change one’s life so drastically was the right
connections. The right man.
It wasn’t Andreas’s fault, of course. It was the corrupt
system. What Andreas was offering him was beyond
wonderful. Andreas had been wonderful to him.
He had been so wonderful Troy couldn’t imagine
leaving him.
Troy bit his lip hard, the thought making his
insides hurt. That was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it?
Despite the incredible opportunity Andreas was offering
him, part of him—the stupid part—felt panicky and tight in
the chest at the thought of not being his pleasure servant
anymore. At the thought of Andreas replacing him with
someone else.
He wanted to stay so badly it was defying all reason
and logic. He knew it was extremely foolish. He knew he
was being offered the opportunity of his lifetime.
Yet it didn’t change the fact that he wanted to turn
around, bury his face in Andreas’s neck, and never let go.
Idiot. When exactly had he gotten it so bad for him?
It was just an infatuation. It had to be. It couldn’t be
anything else, because the high and mighty Senior
Masters of the Chapter didn’t fall for their pleasure
servants. As Master Castien’s example showed, pleasure
servants were just tools to slake the Masters’ desires when
they couldn’t have someone they really wanted.
“Thank you,” Troy said. His voice didn’t even sound
like his own. “When do I start? Should I go to the
Coordinator first?”
Behind him, Andreas was silent for a moment before
saying, “You may leave right now, if you want. I’ll give the
Coordinator a call.”
Troy closed his eyes, his heart somewhere in his
stomach. “Thank you,” he said again, turning around. Say
you want me to stay, something in him begged as he met
Andreas’s eyes. One word and I’ll stay.
Andreas’s gaze was unreadable. He said nothing.
Later, Troy would be grateful for that.
But that would be later.

***

Andreas didn’t even come to see him off.
Troy packed his things as slowly as he could, hoping
against hope that Andreas would show up. But he was
nowhere to be seen, and Troy could no longer loiter
around without looking ridiculous and pathetic.
“Wow, no wonder you needed help,” Noel said,
looking at his bags.
Troy glanced at his bags and cringed. Until that day,
he hadn’t realized how much of his stuff he’d moved into
Andreas’s house. It was kind of eye-opening. And
depressing.
“I’m surprised Master Andreas allowed you to move
so much of your stuff into his house,” Noel said, grabbing a
few bags and heading to the nearest teleportation
chamber.
Troy didn’t say anything. He grabbed the rest of the
bags and followed Noel slowly, violently squashing down
the urge to look back at the house.
 Noel chattered on, undeterred by his silence. “I still
can’t believe Master Andreas is getting another job for
you.” He chuckled, clapping Troy on his shoulder. “Did you
suck his cock that well? Or maybe—”
“Shut up,” Troy said, without looking at him. “Please.”
Noel shut up.
Troy could feel his probing gaze on him, but he stayed
mercifully quiet.
They were still silent as they arrived at Troy’s old
apartment. Then Troy spent a good twenty minutes looking
for the keys to his apartment while Noel waited patiently. It
was probably painfully obvious that he had stopped
returning to the apartment a long time ago.
At last, Troy managed to find the keys at the bottom of
one of his bags. “Here it is!” he said too loudly, avoiding
Noel’s gaze, and opened the door.
He walked inside and looked around, feeling… he
wasn’t sure what. He felt numb, and there was a surreal
quality to the whole thing, as if he couldn’t possibly be
moving back for real. To stay here. It didn’t seem real that
he would never—that he would never…
“Eh, are you okay, man?” Noel said, his voice
uncomfortable.
Troy had never thought smiling could be painful. It
made the muscles of his face ache. “Sure,” he said.
Judging by Noel’s doubtful look, he wasn’t buying it.
Troy turned away.
“Home, sweet home,” he said, hating how fake his
voice sounded, hating himself for being a pathetic fool who
wanted to turn around and run back to Andreas’s house
and beg him to let him stay, like a kicked puppy begging its
owner for attention and affection. Something in him
yearned to do it, his pride be damned.
Enough. He’d just gotten a little attached.
It would pass.
It had to.







Chapter Six


Working as a clerk at the monastery was surprisingly
interesting. Troy liked the job. It was refreshing to see so
many outsiders all the time—and it was an interesting
challenge to keep up the pretense that the monastery was
all there was to High Hronthar, as if the Order’s main
settlement wasn’t located in the Kavalchi Mountains.
He worked closely with Irrene, the Grandmaster’s
secretary, and she was very nice and supportive, which
really helped Troy acclimate to the new environment
quickly.
He saw a lot of Masters and Senior Masters all the
time at his new workplace.
Not all of them, though. Some.
So yeah, the job was fine. Everything was fine. He
had a fairly interesting, respectable occupation. He no
longer had to have sex with people if he didn’t want
to. Which was great in theory—except he hadn’t felt the
slightest inclination to go out and get laid. It was probably
fine too. It probably made sense that with all the changes
in his life recently, the prospect of going out to get laid
would feel like a chore. As soon as he actually met
someone attractive, his libido would be back, Troy was
sure of it.
“Is Master in his office?”
The voice startled him so badly that Troy flinched.
Lifting his gaze, he found himself looking at a
startlingly beautiful young man in an apprentice’s blue
robes. Dark gold hair framed an exquisite face with pretty
violet eyes. Flawless pink lips were folded into a polite
smile. “So has Master returned yet?”
Troy frowned. “Master? You mean Grandmaster
Idhron?”
The young man nodded, exuding slight
impatience. “Are you new? I’m Eridan,” he said, touching
the purple dethrenyte at his throat. The precious gem
glowed dimly, emanating a familiar telepathic mark. The
mark of the Grandmaster.
Ah. So that was the infamous apprentice of the
Grandmaster of the order. The one the Grandmaster was
heavily rumored to be sexually involved with despite it
being very much against the rules.
Troy nearly snorted at his own thoughts. In theory, a
Grandmaster usually wasn’t above the law, but in practice,
he was the law. Master Castien Idhron had become the
Grandmaster recently—and the youngest one in history at
that—but he’d wielded enormous power in the Order long
before that. The man creeped Troy out, to be honest.
There were all sorts of rumors about him, one wilder than
another, and Troy wasn’t sure which of them to believe.
Looking at Eridan’s stunning face, Troy was inclined
to believe the rumor that the esteemed Grandmaster was
banging his own apprentice. This face would tempt a saint.
Or a monk.
Troy’s eyebrows furrowed as he realized suddenly
that Eridan didn’t tempt him. While he found Eridan
beautiful objectively, he felt no real desire to fuck him. It
was… odd. Eridan was exactly his type—Troy had always
liked seeing someone young and pretty under him. But
now he struggled to imagine fucking this guy, no matter
how insanely attractive he was.
Troy said belatedly, “His Grace hasn’t returned from
his trip yet.”
Eridan sighed and plopped down into the chair and
pulled a datapad out of his pocket, clearly intending to wait
for his Master.
Troy shifted his gaze to his computer and stared at it
blankly.
A year ago, he would have been doing his best to get
into Eridan’s pants. Why didn’t he feel even a flicker of
interest now?
Maybe he just didn’t feel like getting laid. Besides, it
would have been stupid to try flirting with the
Grandmaster’s—whatever Eridan was to him.
A year ago, you wouldn’t have cared, a voice said at
the back of his mind. Your denial is getting old, you fucking
coward.
Eridan cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”
Looking back at him, Troy tried to smile. “Sure. Why
are you asking?”
Fixing his violet eyes on him appraisingly, Eridan
shrugged. “I have strong empathy and I couldn’t help but
sense some of your emotions. In my defense, you’re
projecting them very strongly.”
Shit.
“Sorry,” Troy muttered, doing his best to reinforce his
mental shields, but he’d never been particularly great at
shielding his emotions.
“Don’t apologize,” Eridan said, looking at him
curiously. “Are you really okay? You seem…” He trailed off,
something like discomfort appearing on his face. “You
seem—you’re unhappy. You’re yearning for something,
something you think you can’t have.”
Troy opened his mouth to tell him to mind his own
business but closed it when he saw Eridan’s gaze. There
was sympathy in it—and understanding too.
Eridan dropped his eyes and smiled sadly, looking at
his hands. “I can definitely relate… Did you at least tell
them how you feel?”
Troy’s throat was tight. “No,” he said in a rough voice.
“What about you?”
Eridan gave a laugh without looking at him. “Sort of. I
told him that I want him. I know he wants me back. But he
said he won’t be ‘a slave to his base urges’ or some
bullshit like that. And that was the end of it.” He lifted his
gaze, his violet eyes full of fire. “I hate it, but at least I know
he wants me. If I didn’t confront him, I wouldn’t know even
that much. And that’s something.” He gave Troy a steady
look. “Talk to them. It may not work out, but at least you’d
know. It’s better than the uncertainty.”
Troy just looked at him, feeling lost.
 But before he could say anything, Eridan’s head
whipped toward the t-chamber nearby. A smile tugged at
his lips, so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. It was
hard to believe that the smile was directed at the stern,
unemotional man who was heading their way.
“Your Grace,” Troy said, hurriedly sitting up straighter.
But he shouldn’t have bothered: the Grandmaster didn’t
even glance at him, his deep blue eyes fixed on his
apprentice.
“Master,” Eridan murmured. The respectful term of
address sounded weirdly like a term of endearment.
The Grandmaster didn’t say anything, his blank face
betraying no emotion, but Troy could actually feel Master
Idhron’s telepathic presence reach out and brush against
his apprentice’s, wrapping around him in a rather
proprietary manner. Eridan flushed, his eyes glazing over.
Feeling uncomfortable and awkward, as if he’d
witnessed something he shouldn’t have, Troy looked back
at his computer. He didn’t lift his eyes again until the
Grandmaster and his apprentice departed together.
The residual telepathic marks that lingered in the
room even after they left—the undeniable intimacy
between the Master and his apprentice—made something
inside him ache. Troy shivered, wrapping his arms around
himself. He felt cold. It was chilly in the old monastery. The
air conditioning probably needed to be adjusted again.
Talk to them. It may not work out, but at least you’d
know. It’s better than the uncertainty.
Troy sighed, running a hand through his hair. It was
getting too long, almost touching his neck. He should
probably cut it. He’d been kind of lazy about getting a
haircut in the past year because… because…
The memory of long, strong fingers threading through
his hair flashed to the forefront of his mind.
Troy clenched his teeth, groaning quietly in frustration.
No matter how hard he tried not to think about it—
about him—he failed. No matter how busy he was at his
new workplace, no matter how many new acquaintances
he made, those thoughts kept coming back, and his breath
caught in his throat every time he saw black Masters’
robes in his peripheral vision.
Fuck, why couldn’t he move on? He was supposed to
have moved on with his life by now. At first he had tried to
tell himself that he’d just gotten a little infatuated. Then
he’d half-convinced himself that he was simply addicted to
the telepathic merges and that was why he was so fixated.
But the mind healer he’d seen discreetly a few days ago
had disabused him of that notion. There was nothing
wrong with him—neither physically nor mentally. He
shouldn’t have felt so… so dissatisfied with his life. He had
a nice job that didn’t involve putting his mouth on
someone’s genitals, a nice little apartment, and he actually
had time in the evenings to hang out with his friends. Life
was good.
Correction: life should have felt good. He felt…
not depressed exactly—but it felt like something was
missing. Something essential he was waiting for.
Something that would make his life complete. That
something stubbornly kept taking the shape of a certain
man in his mind, no matter how hard Troy tried not to think
about him. The yearning in his chest that he’d stubbornly
kept calling “want” for the past year was like an empty,
hungry pit now, craving to be filled.
He could no longer deny it: he missed it. He missed
him. So damn much. It was more than just want. He’d
been fooling himself for months. He missed Andreas.
These feelings… they weren’t going to pass.
And he had no fucking idea what to do about it.
Talk to them. It may not work out, but at least you’d
know. It’s better than the uncertainty.
“I don’t even recognize you anymore,” Noel
complained that evening as they hung out in their favorite
pub. “What’s gotten you so mopey?”
“I’m not mopey,” Troy said half-heartedly, looking
around the pub without much interest. “I’m just thinking.”
Talk to them. It may not work out, but at least you’d
know. It’s better than the uncertainty.
“Right,” Noel said. “You’ve been weird ever since you
stopped working for Master Andreas.”
Yulia snorted from Troy’s other side. “You’ve got it all
wrong. He’s been weird ever since he started working for
Master Andreas.”
“I haven’t,” Troy said listlessly.
“Yeah, totally not moping,” Noel said, exchanging a
look with Yulia before shifting his gaze back to Troy. “Come
on, spill. Aren’t we your friends?”
“Can a servant have a relationship with a Master?”
Troy blurted out before he could stop himself.
He expected puzzled looks but Noel punched the
air. “Finally!” he said with a grin before turning to
Yulia. “Pay up. You lost.”
Groaning, Yulia touched her chip against Noel’s,
clearly transferring credits.
Troy watched them with confusion. “What the fuck?”
Rolling her eyes, Yulia sighed. “You couldn’t have this
epiphany five days ago? You’ve just lost me two thousand
credits.”
When Troy continued looking at them in confusion,
her expression softened. “We’ve been waiting for you to
talk to us about it.”
“About what?”
Noel snorted. “About the fact that you’re pining after
your ex-employer. Come on, did you think we were that
blind? It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. You
looked like someone died when you moved out of his
house.”
“We’ve been trying to delicately hint at it for a while,”
Yulia said, ignoring Noel’s snort and muttered ‘Delicately?’
“But it seemed you weren’t ready to talk about it, so we
waited. Some of us are good, thoughtful friends.” The latter
was said with a pointed glare at Noel, who just smirked
with a shrug.
Troy stared at the brown surface of his beer, not
knowing what to say.
“As for your question,” Yulia said. “I did some
research—”
“You mean gossip,” Noel cut in.
“I did some research,” Yulia said with an emphasis on
the word. “And yes, there are servants in relationships with
Masters. It’s pretty rare and it’s not advertised, but it’s not
actually forbidden by the Order’s rules.” She grinned. “So
you can totally bang your Master or even have kids with
him if you want.”
Troy nearly laughed. It wasn’t exactly a question of
what he wanted. Did Andreas want the same? He doubted
it. If he did, he wouldn’t have let him go so easily. Or would
he?
Talk to them. It may not work out, but at least you’d
know. It’s better than the uncertainty.
Troy gulped his beer down.
Fuck it. He was so sick of it. Sick of his own
indecision, insecurity—and yes, sick of his moping. This
wasn’t him. He’d always prided himself on being confident
and decisive. So what if he felt completely out of his depth
in this situation? What was the worst that could
happen? He would get his heart broken—and he would be
utterly humiliated—but Eridan was right: at least it would
be some real closure instead of this uncertainty. He would
suck it up and pick himself up eventually. He always did.
Feeling a lot better now that he’d made the decision,
Troy got to his feet.
“Where are you going?” his friends said.
Troy gave a chuckle. “To make a fool of myself,
probably.”
And before his friends could question him further, he
walked out.
It was a chilly evening, but he could barely feel it.
 He didn’t even remember how he’d gotten to the
Masters’ district. Before he knew it, he found himself
standing in front of the familiar mansion. He stared at its
majestic facade, feeling a strong sense of deja vu. Just a
little over a year ago, he had stood in front of this house,
feeling nervous and uncertain just like this—though for
entirely different reasons. It felt like it had been a different
life. A different him.
Maybe it had been.
Taking a deep breath, Troy pressed the buzzer.
“State your name and business,” the AI said.
Troy swallowed. “Troy,” he said. “Please tell Master
Andreas that I’d like to talk to him—if he’s alone.”
The sudden thought that Andreas might not be alone
made him feel sick to his stomach. He wasn’t sure how he
would react if he saw Andreas with another pleasure
servant. Though, no, he knew how he would react: he
would turn around and leave, because that would be the
answer to the question he wanted to ask. If Troy was so
easily replaceable, then it wasn’t even worth asking the
question.
“One moment, please,” the AI said before going silent.
Seconds dragged by, excruciatingly slowly.
At long last, the gate clicked open.
“Master Andreas is in his office,” the AI said.
Troy headed toward it, some of the tension in him
easing as he entered the familiar house. He could still feel
his own telepathic mark all over it, mingled with
Andreas’s, and it was incredibly comforting. He felt very at
home, even though he knew he shouldn’t allow himself to
feel that way.
He pushed the door to Andreas’s office open.
Andreas wasn’t seated in his usual chair. He stood by
his desk, propped casually against it. But his casual
posture was a strange contradiction to the tension he
exuded. He was wearing a gray sweater and black
trousers, his robes missing. His dark red hair gleamed in
the firelight, his dark eyes hard to read in the dimly-lit
room.
Troy drank in the sight of him: the power, the virility,
the sheer Andreas. He could barely keep his telepathy
from reaching out to him greedily, afraid of it being
rejected.
He shouldn’t have been.
A moment later, he felt Andreas’s telepathic presence
touch him, gently at first, then more intently, sliding into
him. Gasping, Troy opened up, letting him in. Fuck, it felt
so good. He missed him.
Missed you, he thought at him. So damn much.
Andreas must have picked up the thought, because
he was moving, and then he was right there, in front of
him. Troy fell into his arms, hiding his face against
Andreas’s shoulder with a blissed-out sigh, and hugged
him tightly, his body trying to merge itself with Andreas’s,
melt into him and never be parted.
“What took you so long?” Andreas said, nuzzling into
his temple.
Troy frowned, his eyes snapping open. “What?” he
said, pulling back a little to see Andreas’s face.
Andreas had his brows raised, and was that
amusement in his eyes? “Did you really think we were
done just because you stopped working for me?”
Troy could only open his mouth and close it. He
probably looked stupid. He certainly felt stupid.
Andreas’s expression softened. He cradled Troy’s
face with his hands, making Troy shiver and lean into his
touch.
“You told me that you accepted my job offer because
you were too afraid to turn down a Senior Master of the
Chapter,” Andreas said, looking at him intently. “I let you go
because you had to return to me of your own free will. The
power imbalance in our relationship wouldn’t have worked
long-term. I needed to know for sure you actually want to
be here. You had to choose to be mine.” A satisfied gleam
appeared in his eyes. “I knew you would.”
“Arrogant prick,” Troy grumbled, but his heart wasn’t
really in it. He was too happy to be mad. But he needed to
know something. “You didn’t hire another pleasure servant,
right?” His arms tightened around Andreas. “Because I’m
not sharing.”
“Why would I pay for an expensive sex pet when I can
have you free of charge?”
Looking down, Troy punched him in the side half-
heartedly. He knew Andreas was joking. Obviously.
He mustn’t have managed to hide his uncertainty,
because Andreas paused. Tipping Troy’s face up, he made
him look at him, his dark eyes serious. “You’re the only
person I want in my bed, in my house, and in my life. No
one else.”
Troy’s vision was suddenly a little blurry. “Good,” he
said fiercely and crushed their mouths together, unable to
fight the hunger in him any longer, his body lifting toward
Andreas—every fiber, every part. He wanted to merge, to
climb, to feel skin. Troy moaned around Andreas’s tongue,
clutching at his wide shoulders.
They had sex right there, on Andreas’s desk, dry-
humping like teenagers, unable to kiss each other deep
enough or hard enough. Troy wasn’t capable of talking
anymore, so he opened himself up to Andreas, offering
him his thoughts and emotions and demanding the same
in return. I missed you, I couldn’t stop thinking of you, I
don’t want anyone else, I think I love you, I need you, I
adore you, I want you, only you.
He was no longer sure which thoughts belonged to
Andreas and which ones belonged to him. It didn’t matter.
He could feel that Andreas felt the same way about him.
They were on the same page. They wanted the same
thing: each other.
And that was the only thing that mattered. They’d
figure out everything else later.
“I’m moving back in,” Troy declared when his
breathing evened out after his orgasm. He kissed Andreas
on his stubbled cheek, and then again—because he
wanted to and because he could. “I really missed our bed.”
Andreas snorted. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you
hogging all the blankets again.”
Grinning, Troy rubbed their noses together. “You will,
and you’ll love it.”
 “I will,” Andreas said, looking at him steadily, before
suddenly hauling him over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
“Hey!”
Ignoring Troy’s indignant squawk, he carried him
toward his bedroom.
To their bed.

The End

 From the Author
Thank you for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it!
If you want to read more stories set in this world, you can
read my series Calluvia’s Royalty. The story of Master
Castien Idhron and Eridan is Book 4 of the series, Prince’s
Master.
You can always contact me at my website
http://www.alessandrahazard.com or email me at
author@alessandrahazard.com. If you’d like to get
notifications of new releases and special offers on my
books, you can subscribe to my mailing list.

Calluvia’s Royalty

Book 1: That Alien Feeling
He’s the most precious human being Adam has
ever seen. Too bad he isn’t human.
Banished by his parents to the third planet in the Sol
system, Prince Harht’ngh’chaali of the Second Grand Clan
is completely fascinated by its inhabitants. Assuming the
human name “Harry,” he tries to pass for a human to
survive, but being human is so much harder than Harry
expected. Humans are so confusing.
Adam Crawford isn’t looking for love. Financially
secure and good-looking, he’s in a good place in his life.
He doesn’t mean to fall in love with the quirky guy working
at the coffee shop near his office. Harry is ridiculous—and
ridiculously endearing. He wears ugly shirts and flowers in
his hair, and he has a kind word for everyone. Adam falls
hard and fast.
Little does he know that Harry isn’t what he seems
and anything between them is impossible.
Star-crossed love between a human and an alien
prince from a world half a galaxy away.

Book 2: That Irresistible Poison
“I hate you.” Please touch me.
“You sicken me.” Hold me closer.
“I want to be free of you.” I can’t live without you.
The messed-up part is, he means everything he says.
The youngest prince of his clan, Seyn has been
betrothed to the crown prince of another clan since birth.
Everyone says he’s so lucky to marry one of the most
respected, powerful men on the planet, but Seyn knows
better.
He hates him with every fiber of his being. Ksar is a
cold, uncaring, overbearing bastard who uses
underhanded tactics to achieve his goals and who either
ignores Seyn or criticizes everything about him. Seyn can’t
stand him, and he’s willing to do anything to get out of the
arranged marriage to a man he abhors.
But the line between feverish hatred and passion can
be very thin, and it turns out that freedom isn’t as
appealing as it once seemed.
Is it messed-up to miss a man you loathe?
Is it sick to want his hands on you?
 Seyn knows it’s insane. He knows he should stop
going back.
But knowing something and doing it are two different
things.

Book 3: Once Upon a Time
A very proper prince and a rude, dangerous man
who may or may not be a stableman: a fairy-tale love
story…
Ice Prince.
Prince Jamil of Calluvia has always disliked that
moniker, but he is responsible and proper, and it’s probably
accurate to say that he isn’t good at emotions. After being
widowed, Jamil’s life has revolved around his duties as a
crown prince and little else.
But one night, everything changes.
One night, Jamil meets a man at the royal stables, a
man who is the opposite of proper, a man with eyes as
black as sin.
Rohan di’Lehr is everything Jamil should despise.
He’s a rude, lowborn criminal. He’s terrible for Jamil’s
self-control.
He makes Jamil behave like a wanton creature, not
the crown prince.
They have nothing in common. They have no future
together. He still can’t stay away.
A story of forbidden, twisted attraction and love that
defies all odds.

Book 4: Prince’s Master
A prince and a villain incapable of love: it wasn’t
supposed to be a love story…
Separated from his family after an assassination
attempt, Prince Eridan is rescued by the reclusive Order of
monks who control High Hronthar, an isolated school for
telepaths. Eridan believes he’s an ordinary orphan, one of
hundreds of initiates of the Order trying to survive in a nest
of intrigue, rivalry, and corruption, but he’s more important
than he knows.
When Castien Idhron, the most powerful man in the
Order, claims Eridan as his apprentice, Eridan’s confused
and wary. Corrupt, heartless, and calculating, Castien
plays with the lives of those around him as if they’re just a
game. Eridan’s just another pawn.
Eridan despises his Master, and yet he finds himself
craving his attention and approval like a drug he can’t live
without.
Castien has never understood the concepts of
kindness and love, but to his displeasure, his insolent
apprentice has a way of getting under his skin like nothing
else.
Will the master manipulator win the game, or will he
play himself?
_______
Other MM Romance series by Alessandra Hazard

The Wrong Alpha series

Book 1: Unnatural
A planet at war. Two alphas forced into a political
marriage. Attraction that defies all reason and logic… Or
does it?
The Kingdom of Pelugia and the Republic of Kadar
have been at war for decades. Peace isn’t popular, but the
planet can’t survive without it.
Forced to marry an enemy prince for the sake of
peace, Senator Royce Cleghorn doesn’t like his husband,
his alpha scent, or his damned pretty blue eyes. More than
anything, Royce hates what Haydn makes him become: a
primitive alpha cliché who’ll do anything to mark his
territory, even if that territory is his alpha husband. Royce
likes omegas; he isn’t into alphas, no matter how pretty
their eyes are. It’s just a weird territorial instinct. It has to
be.
Prince Haydn has always tried to be the perfect alpha
his father wants him to be. He’s the heir to the throne. He’s
a war general. He isn’t supposed to bare his throat to an
enemy alpha—and it isn’t supposed to feel so good.
Everyone knows a marriage between two alphas is a
recipe for disaster. He isn’t supposed to crave his husband
—their marriage is just a political arrangement, nothing
more.
But when disaster strikes and loyalties are tested,
which bond will be the strongest: their marriage, or their
allegiances?
 Book 2: Feral
Book 3: Illicit

Straight Guys series

Book 1: Just a Bit Twisted
Professor Derek Rutledge is hated and feared by all of
his students. Strict, reserved and ruthless, he doesn’t
tolerate mistakes and has little patience for his students.
Shawn Wyatt is a twenty-year-old struggling to provide
for his younger sisters after the death of their parents. On
the verge of losing his scholarship, Shawn becomes
desperate enough to go to Professor Rutledge.
Everyone says Rutledge doesn’t have a heart.
Everyone says he’s a ruthless bastard. Shawn finds out
that everyone is right.
He strikes a deal with Rutledge, but unexpectedly, the
deal turns into something so much more.
Something all-consuming and addictive.
Something neither of them wants.
Book 2: Just a Bit Obsessed
Book 3: Just a Bit Unhealthy
Book 4: Just a Bit Wrong
Book 5: Just a Bit Confusing
Book 6: Just a Bit Ruthless
Book 7: Just a Bit Wicked
Book 8: Just a Bit Shameless
Book 9: Just a Bit Gay
Book 10: Just a Bit Dirty
Book 11: Just a Bit Wrecked
Book 12: Just a Bit Bossy