Neil Morgan knows there’s a high price to fine quality, but simply never thought of it in reference to a person. As a New York businessman, Neil must keep up appearances even if he dislikes what’s required of him. While trying to contain his shock at the activities of the local Buy Ball, a gorgeous ocelot propositions him.
Cecil Torres wants the right master and he thinks maybe he’s found the one when he stumbles upon Neil at the Ball. Getting Neil’s attention is easy—Cecil’s trained to make an entrance—but getting a smart man to agree to a risky bet is another matter. Never one to renege on a bet, Neil gladly pays the steep purchase price. Cecil plans to be everything Neil needs. And as an ocelot, no other cat is as qualified to be the perfect host, in every way.
After one eventful evening, Neil and Cecil hit a bump in the road. Can a misunderstanding of words and Neil’s error in not reading the fine print cost them everything?
I had to Google what an ocelot was. This is the picture I found. Beautiful animal! This is what Cecil’s animal is, and his human side is just as beautiful. Even though he is a slave/prostitute, he is the ultimate high powered executive’s spouse. Speaks many languages, party planning and such. He sees Neil at the ball and knows.
Neil really doesn’t want a slave, but if he wants to be taken seriously, he has to play the game. Something about Cecil’s proposition just gets to him. After he purchases Cecil, Neil appreciates all of Cecil’s knowledge. I can totally see why they fall in love.
Cecil needed to find someone to love, Neil just needed someone to show him how to love. 4 Hearts!
The next book, Cost of Love, is due out August 28, 2014.
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I’d never been to one of these “Buying Balls” before as people referred to them. It seemed crass, events people with old money went to because they were bored and wanted an excuse to show off their wealth. But it had been suggested more than once that I needed to fit in better and my business parties needed the right kind of entertainment if I wanted to draw the right kind of connections to attend them.
So I paid the couple of grand to get into the event. And I almost fell over at the legal fucking orgy that I had no idea was going on right in the middle of New York City! It was a night of decadence in the extreme. Buffet tables filled with fountains of the finest champagne and caviar—with a naked woman wearing a gold mask getting gang banged at the end of it. I found out the gold mask meant the slave was into men.
The black, they accepted women, and upon checking in, I was handed a white mask to signal I was a buyer. I almost rolled my eyes. The fact I got to keep my clothes on throughout the night said about the same thing I thought, but whatever, I could play by the rules.
I sampled the lush desserts, ignoring and dodging the people from the brothel gushing over me and trying to schmooze me since it was my first time there and they could practically smell the possibility of a sale. Finding a spot against the wall, I watched the live porn, turned on and worried I might get distracted from the agenda I came here for. This was about business to further business and an investment.
Nothing more. I could purchase one of these poor cat shifters from the brothel that I heard was a horrid place and, in exchange, treat them much better, and instead of being subjected to whatever and whomever they were told to by the head of the brothel, they would simply tend to my guests at parties and my weekly poker night. I didn’t like it, but it was the world we lived in.
A young man was taking two men in his ass, another in his mouth, and several were waiting to get at him next and I thought I might cream my pants. The shifter was gorgeous and I wanted a taste of him. Fuck, I wanted him for the whole night all to myself.
But that didn’t seem to be how this all worked.
I was a couple of drinks into my night and several plates of appetizers, working up the courage to start perusing the “catalog” of suitable slaves wandering around when the next show by me was resetting. This time a woman had a line of men getting to enjoy her. She knelt on a pillow and spread her legs.
“I can make you finish before she can any of her suitors if you let me, sir,” a soft, musical voice said to my right. My head snapped away from the scene in front of me towards that direction and met the most beautiful orange eyes that had the depth of tone as if I was looking into the sun but without the pain staring at it caused.
“That’s quite a boast,” I murmured, drinking in his trim, perfect body that was hairless everywhere but his head.
“It’s not and I can prove it,” he purred as he moved closer. “I’ll even wager on it and be modest.” He glanced at the women who had men getting into place. “I could do it with my hand, but my ass would be too easy with all the stimulation going on around us. Would you consider a wager, sir?”
I nodded, setting down my drink and plate as he stepped closer. “I am a gambling man.”
“If I can accomplish as I say I can, then you buy my contract.”
I blinked at him, thinking that was quite a gamble. “I am in the market for party entertainment and a guest hospitality slave.”
His eyes lost some of their hope but he kept his expression blank of that. “But you would still partake in me as well, no? I would service you as well as your guests, sir?” He stepped even closer and pressed himself against me, letting me feel every line of his exquisite five-seven frame.
“I don’t see how I wouldn’t with a body like yours,” I moaned as my hands instinctively moved to his soft skin. “What do I get if you don’t win?” He blinked at me and I couldn’t help but smile. The little seductor hadn’t thought that far in his ruse.
“Whatever I can give you that you want, but I won’t lose.” He glanced over his shoulder, and I followed his gaze, seeing the first man mount the female shifter. “They’re starting. If we don’t as well, I’ll be playing with a handicap.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” I breathed as I ran my fingers over his silky black hair that hung in his face just past his ears. “I accept.”
“Thank you, sir,” he sighed, relief so clear in his eyes I was dying to know how badly this slave had been treated in the past. “I will always please you and be so good to you.” He dropped to his knees before I could reply and, with experienced fingers, flicked open the button to my fly as he unzipped it and pulled out my cock. He swallowed my fully hard, ten and a half inches down without even hesitating or gagging.
Holy fuck! This is why people buy sex slaves! I bit my lip and tried not to blow my load like a schoolboy experiencing something sexual for the first time. I’d gotten head before, lots of head.
But not like this, never like that. His tongue was rougher than any before, and he knew what he was doing. I watched him, enthralled with the way he loved what he was doing, and saddened to know it was just an act they learned to put on for clients.
This is nothing more than any other interview, Neil. An odd, crazy interview, but nothing more. I glanced at the scene with the woman, wanting to check on our competition, and when I saw that my holding back hurt the chances of the man on his knees, I let go and enjoyed the pleasure he was giving me when his smaller hand caressed my sac. I shot deep down his throat, coming harder than I could ever remember from nothing more than a kinky hookup.
I grabbed his head and thrust, wanting to draw it out and enjoy every second of it. With no gag reflex, it wasn’t as if I would hurt him. When I was spent, the first of the female’s companions cried out, and it was official, my slave had won our bet. He slowly pulled off my cock when I let go of his head, leisurely licking my cock clean as he stared up me curiously. It took me a moment to figure out why.
“I keep my promises and dealings,” I panted, giving him a firm nod. He smiled widely, purring as he rubbed his cheek against my groin in the oddest gesture before zipping me back up and rolling gracefully to his feet. “I’ve never bought a slave before. You’re going to have to walk me through how to do this.”
“I’ve never been bought before,” he mumbled as he glanced away. “Ocelots can only be bought once. They will explain why. It’s forbidden for us to warn potential buyers if they don’t know and we’re not allowed to tell them that we’re ocelots because of that. Please don’t be angry. Some search for ocelots, others hate it. I would have told you but if you hadn’t bought me and they found out…”
“Tell me,” I demanded and he shook his head. “I’m to be your master now. Tell me what they would have done to you if you’d told me.”
He slowly glanced up at me, and I saw fear in his eyes so stark I did a double take. “I don’t know, but the last ocelot who told, I never heard from again. I want to believe they simply sent him to another brothel in another city, but we’re property and property that has outlived its use is disposed of, so that is more likely. But there are masters who search far and wide for us so I just don’t know.”
“Now I’m fucking curious what I got myself into,” I grumbled as I took his hand. I asked one of the brothel attendants where the office was and dragged the man after me. Once I was in the room designated the office, I handed them my buyer card and yanked off my mask, nervous and tired of the games.
