Bee Among the Clover by Fae Sutherland, Marguerite Labbe

grabbed the leashes and made his way toward Roman, who stood his ground, though Aron could tell that he wanted to scurry back. What had happened to that confident, mocking man who had tossed him face-first into the snow countless times earlier? He snapped the leash onto Roman’s collar, making sure not to touch him, before attaching the other one to his own. He was grateful that Wulfgar chose not to use them often.
They jumped apart as the door banged open and Wulfgar stood in the frame, eyeing them both before moving in and locking the door behind them. The thane didn’t say a word as he sat himself on the edge of the bed, and a flicker of apprehension rippled down Aron’s spine.
“Come ’ere, boy,” the thane said with a growl. Aron hesitated for an instant before straightening his spine and approaching.
Aron met Wulfgar’s eyes, trying to read his mood as the thane gathered the end of the leash, wrapping it around his fist and applying pressure to Aron’s shoulder until he was kneeling. The thane fisted his hand in Aron’s hair and wrenched his head back until his throat was arched and corded. Aron caught his breath, apprehension hitting him again, harder, as Wulfgar studied him.
“You’re finally beginning to understand, though you’re the most stubborn mite I’ve ever met. You pleased me this week, boy.” A slow smirk crossed Wulfgar’s face. “Would you like a reward?”
Aron’s eyes widened and then narrowed. He was not some bloody pet to be rewarded and punished when he did good or bad, but the promise in Wulfgar’s gaze tempted him beyond reason. He wet his lips, hoping that the thane was indicating what he thought he was. “Aye, my lord.”
“My lord…” Roman began, and Aron would have glanced his way were it not for Wulfgar’s hand tight in his hair.
“It’s not the same, Roman,” Wulfgar interrupted, giving the slave a hard look. “Cease.” He looked back down at Aron for a long moment, then released him, leaning back on his hands. “He’s yours for this evening, boy, but I expect to be well entertained in return.”
At first, Aron said nothing, simply stared up at him. Then, gradually, realization set in, and he felt faint at the knowledge, the power, and the desire that rushed headlong through him. He turned his head slowly, and his gaze locked on Roman, who had a look of utter betrayal on his face as well as fear. Aron didn’t like that, but as much as he wanted Roman’s desire to be willing, he wasn’t going to turn down the offer he’d been handed.
He could make Roman want him and enjoy him. The gods knew he wanted the slave with a fire that almost frightened him.
Aron rose to his feet and turned, approaching the other man, whose eyes were wide and uncertain. He let a small smile curve his lips, hoping to ease Roman’s obvious nervousness, but the slave averted his eyes, staring at the floor. Aron determined then and there that he was going to make this experience a good one for Roman, remembering how Roman had made it clear that the thane’s sharing of him with Osric had been anything but pleasant. This wouldn’t be that way, Aron vowed it to himself.
Aron heard the slave’s breath catch as he stopped in front of him, reaching one hand to close on Roman’s leash. Aron hated the leash, on himself and on Roman, and he refused to have it between them tonight. The leash dropped to the floor as he unclipped it, and he saw the slight tremor shake Roman. If he thought he could get away with it, the collar would be on the floor as well.
Aron stood there, just looking at Roman, before tapping a finger under his chin, tilting his face up and meeting his eyes. Aron didn’t try to hide his own desire and was sure he saw, behind the uncertainty and nerves, a flicker of the same in Roman’s dark eyes.
He leaned in slowly, pausing a hair’s breadth from Roman’s lips, their eyes still locked. The anticipation was heavy, almost overwhelming, and it snapped as he leaned in that last