Master; Eridan could feel it despite Castien’s shields.
Quietly, he walked toward Castien and sank down to the plush carpet at his feet. “My thaal is starting to get loose, Master,” he murmured, pressing his cheek against Castien’s knee. “Fix it?”
Castien simply looked at him for a long moment before giving a clipped nod and gesturing for Eridan to turn around.
Eridan did, leaning back against the armchair and closing his eyes as he felt his Master’s strong hands carefully work on removing the thaal from his hair before starting to re-braid it.
This activity was one of his favorite things in the world. It always soothed Eridan, grounded him, and made their bond fill with comfort and quiet pleasure. He didn’t know what effect this had on Castien, if any, but at least he didn’t seem to mind it.
Except after last night, his mind was still extremely attuned to his Master’s, and their bond became hypersensitive, making Eridan desperate for a deeper connection, crave it. He reached out into the bond—
“No, Eridan,” Castien said sternly.
“Just one more time, Master,” he said, painfully aware he was practically whining. It was embarrassing, but he wanted this so much. “You said it wasn’t a merge, so it doesn’t count, right? We don’t have to go deep if you don’t want to.”
Castien finished braiding the thaal into his hair and let the gemstone settle against Eridan’s neck. “I said no,” he said coldly. “Go to your room and meditate.”
Shooting him a half-pissed, half-baffled look, Eridan strode out of the room. He marched into his bedroom and slammed the door shut. The thud of the door rattled the windows but failed to give him any satisfaction, his entire being still crawling with need.
He fell into his bed with a groan of frustration. “I hate you,” he growled into his mattress before flipping onto his back and shoving his pants down. He was already hard and aching. He stroked himself hard and fast, trying to sate one need with the other kind, biting his lips and trying not to make any noise.
He didn’t think of anything. He definitely wasn’t thinking of Castien. His Master was a cruel, manipulative asshole who refused to give Eridan what he needed. Eridan hated him, and his stupid blue eyes, and his broad shoulders and muscular chest—
He moaned, feeling himself getting slicker, both his cock and his hole. He shoved two fingers into his hole and groaned. He almost hoped his Master would enter the room and find him like this, finger-fucking himself and trying to sate the hunger inside him. Castien would probably just give him an unimpressed look and raise a haughty eyebrow. You are pathetic, his Master would say, watching Eridan impassively. I thought I trained you better than that, but like all throwbacks, you are nothing but a wet cock slut.
Eridan’s eyes rolled back and he came, squeezing around his fingers and shuddering through choked-off sobs as his cock spurted ropes of come.
When the aftershocks of pleasure died away, he stared at the ceiling, his face hot. Had he just really masturbated, imagining his Master criticizing and humiliating him?
What was wrong with him?
Chapter Eight: The Servant and the Apprentice
The next few months passed in a blur. Hronthar was buzzing with the news of Prince-Consort Mehmer’s death. Although only people close to the Chapter knew the truth, there were all sorts of rumors afloat.
Castien remained frustratingly hard to read, sometimes almost affectionate with him and sometimes cold and harsh. Eridan alternated between being pissed off at him and feeling things no apprentice should feel for his Master.
He had also developed embarrassing, irrational animosity toward Javier, something he had tried to hide but apparently failed to, because one day Javier confronted him about it.
“Look, what is your problem?” Javier said, frowning at him from his seat on the couch.
Eridan crossed his arms over his chest. “No problem,” he bit out with a smile that probably was as fake as his cheerful voice. “Master just isn’t home.”
“He told me to wait for him,” Javier said, watching him curiously.
“You have been waiting for an hour. Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than wait for your employer to fuck you?”
Javier cocked his head to the side, his shoulders relaxing. “Ah. I see now.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Javier gave a shrug. “You are not the first apprentice who has gotten a little possessive and insecure over their Master. It happens.”
Eridan scowled. “I’m not possessive. And why would I be insecure?