The Right Hand Of The Father

chapter 9

Alexander was more comfortable than he’d ever been in his life. The room was warm and the sheets were soft and there was a pillow under his head. It was like sleeping on a cloud. He shifted, enjoying the feel of it. 

There was a low, rumbley chuckle and he felt a finger tracing up the length of his hip.

He arched his back, enjoying the feel of it. Of being warm and touched gently. It was a nice dream. He’d roll over and there would be someone warm and snuggly to hold him. Pet him, praise him and kiss him. Someone to make him feel safe.

“You look like a cat sweet boy,” the rumbly voice purred and Alexander froze as his brain began to clear. He wasn’t dreaming. This wasn’t a dream.

His eyes flew open and he looked up, staring into a pair of warm dark eyes peering down at him.

“Good morning Alexander.”

He swallowed. Tried to work moisture into his mouth as he remembered what happened the night before. He’d kissed his master. Kissed him and told him that he wanted to be his boy. That he didn’t want his master to go into New Orleans, that he wanted him to take Alexander to his bed instead. Then he’d kissed him again and his master had kissed him back. Taken him to the settee and Alexander felt himself blush as he remembered what happened next.

“Sir.” He swallowed again. “Did I oversleep? I’m sorry I can—”

“Alexander.” The finger tracing his hip was replaced with a warm hand there, holding him in place.

“I’m sorry Daddy.” He said quickly, not breaking his gaze away from the other man’s. “I didn’t mean to oversleep. I’ll just get up and go tell Sadie to lay your breakfast and—”

His master slipped an arm underneath Alexander’s lower hip and rolled, pulling Alexander into his lap as they went. His master against the headboard and him in his lap.

“Good morning.” His master pressed a gentle kiss to his nose. “You look like an angel when you sleep. Did you know that?”

Alexander felt his cheeks flush as he tried to keep himself covered with a sheet. “Good morning Daddy.”

“Now.” His master leaned forward and kissed his lips quickly. “It is just after eight and I have a beautiful boy in my bed. How do you think I should spend the rest of my morning?”

“I—”

His master’s hand trailed down his chest, past Alexander’s waist and he tried to shift away quickly. Didn’t want to let his master know that he didn’t have control of himself. Wanted him to know he could be a good boy.

“It seems my boy has a present for me,” his master smiled as his hand wrapped around Alexander’s cock and began to caress him. “What a good boy you are Alexander.”

His hand twisted at the tip and Alexander fought the urge to moan at the sensations arcing through his body. Did his best to stay still even though he wanted to arch into his master’s hands, rut against him.

“Daddy,” he whimpered as the other man’s grip loosened slightly.

“Hmm.” His master looked up at him and licked his lips. “I think perhaps, morning might be a good time for lessons.”

“Lessons?” Alexander’s eyes widened. Whenever Master Stevens had decided Alexander had needed a lesson it involved one of the cane slaves holding him bent over while the overseer took a razor strop to his body. He didn’t know what he’d done to displease his master but—

“You did say last night that you were a smart boy and could learn to please me better than any whore I might hire in the city.” He stroked leisurely again. “And you did so well in your lessons last night.”