Bee Among the Clover by Fae Sutherland, Marguerite Labbe

seated on the bed when they stepped into the room. Aron’s eyes met his as the thane stroked his beard, looking them over. Aron sneered inwardly; in all likelihood, the tyrant was thinking about whatever new degradation he’d devised.
“I wish to see you undress each other.”
Aron saw Roman’s head jerk up, and the shock on his face mirrored Aron’s own. When Aron glanced over at the slave, there was a worry in his eyes that was unusual. But a stern look from Wulfgar had Roman nodding and turning to Aron, his dark eyes hesitant, as if expecting a fight.
Aron was tempted to give him one but in the end clenched his jaw and allowed Roman to tug his tunic over his head, doing the same for Roman. Aron tensed as Roman sank to his knees and began untying Aron’s boots. He glanced up at him through thick, black lashes, and Aron exhaled and gave him a slight nod that seemed to ease him.
He reached one hand down to Roman’s shoulder to balance himself as his boots were removed, catching the sideways glance the slave threw Wulfgar’s way before Roman’s long, slim fingers curled in the waist of Aron’s trews and tugged them down and off.
Aron hesitated as Roman rose back to his feet, but the past three weeks had taught him that it was pointless to try and refuse Wulfgar what he wanted, so he dropped to his own knees and made short work of removing Roman’s remaining clothes, casting the thane an arch look as he rose back to his feet.
Wulfgar said nothing at first, just shook his head and watched them, amusement in his eyes. Aron bristled but kept his comments to himself.
“Aron, you recall your first day here, boy? Of course you do. I kissed Roman to show you how it was done.” The thane rose from the bed and approached, circling behind Roman as Aron watched, suspicious of the thane’s intent. Wulfgar’s fingers skimmed along the slave’s spine, and Roman melted when the thane bent to nuzzle his neck. Aron still did not understand that, how he seemed to not only tolerate but enjoy Wulfgar’s attentions. Aron would admit the pain was no longer there when Wulfgar took him, but despite the fact that it no longer felt like he was being torn asunder, Aron would still rather do almost anything than submit to the thane.
“You do as you’re told in my bed, Aron, but there can be more,” Wulfgar said, though he didn’t look at him, instead continuing to move his lips along Roman’s neck. “Roman knows how much more there can be, pleasure and ecstasy enough to make you scream, eh, Roman?”
Roman’s eyes opened, hooded and darker than before, and he nodded, his voice breathless. “Aye, my lord….”
Aron gave them both a disbelieving look. Roman’s fathomless eyes were fixed on his face, and he could see the pleasure in the soft smile playing on his lips. “Maybe for some,” he hedged. “But not for me.”
The thane peered at him from over Roman’s shoulder. “You think not, eh, boy?” Aron stiffened his spine as Wulfgar caught the lobe of Roman’s ear between his teeth and tugged. Aron heard the slave’s breath catch, could see him tremble as Wulfgar’s hand slid around to palm the bare expanse of his stomach.
For some reason that Aron couldn’t explain, he felt a ripple of apprehension. There was promise in Wulfgar’s tone and in the look that Roman gave him through half-lidded eyes as he submitted to the thane’s attentions.
Aron tensed further as Wulfgar’s other hand reached out, tugging him closer so that he was pressed fully against Roman, the slave murmuring in pleasure as he was now caught between them both. For reasons Aron could not explain, his stomach jumped at that quiet sound, jumped even more when Wulfgar leaned over and pressed his lips to Aron’s shoulder before moving them back to feather along Roman’s shoulder and nape, the slave arching, reaching one arm up and back to curl at the thane’s neck.
Aron’s breath came faster as he remembered Roman’s speech about capitulation being