Fic: The Devil You Know (24/25)
Title: The Devil You Know
Fandom: White Collar
Characters/Pairing: Neal/Peter, Peter/Elizabeth/Neal, Neal/Elizabeth, Peter/Elizabeth, references to Neal/Kate
Rating: Explicit
Contains: Non-con, dub-con, institutionalized slavery, spanking, humiliation, dark!Peter, dark!Elizabeth, sex, rimming
Word count: 5460 this part. About 124k total.
Summary: After being convicted of bond forgery, Neal is sentenced to four years of slavery. But he isn't prepared to be purchased by Peter Burke. Or for what Peter has in store for him.
Notes: See Chapter 1 for details.
He'd imagined this moment so many times, in different settings and contexts, but he'd never imagined how fast his heart was pounding, or how dry his mouth was.
When Kate answered, her eyes were wide and concerned. It reminded him of the day he was arrested.
"Neal...." she looked over his shoulder at Peter, who was standing against the wall.
"Peter brought me," Neal said. "I just want a minute."
"Okay...come in."
She stepped aside to let him in, and closed the door behind him.
Neal looked around the room. She had two large suitcases and a smaller bag by the window.
"I know you told Peter you didn't want to see me," he said.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to know that."
Kate sat down on the edge of the bed. She was dressed plainly in jeans and a knit top, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, exposing her long, graceful neck. She folded her arms across her stomach.
"I thought it would make it harder for you," she said. "I didn't want you to think I was leaving you because you were a-because you were arrested."
Neal leaned against the desk against the opposite wall. "You aren't planning on us being together again, are you?"
She shook her head, but said, "I don't know. We weren't together for a while, Neal. You being arrested didn't change that. How can we even think about starting again right now?" Her eyes focused on Neal's neck. "You're not wearing a collar."
"I ran. To find you."
She looked away, her eyes glistening. "Neal...."
"Peter won't report it if I go back with him now. He let me come here first to see you." He glanced at the door. "But we can still run. Say the word, and I'll find a way to get us out of here."
Hope momentarily filled him. He started thinking of ways to do it-he could call room service to create a distraction. He could start to leave with Peter but break away. It would mean breaking his promise to Peter, and part of him would feel bad about that, but he wouldn’t feel bad in six months. Not if he was with Kate.
But Kate bit her lip and closed her eyes. "Please, don't. I don't want to run. How long do we have?"
"A half hour."
"Then let's not waste it."
It hadn't hit him until now that this might be goodbye. If he saw her again, it wouldn't be until he was freed. And even that was uncertain.
"Did you love me?"
She smiled and sniffled. "I think part of me will always love you."
It was as good of an answer as he could have hoped for, but the finality of it, the implication that she would never love him enough, pierced him like a knife.
Kate stood up and put her hands on his shoulders. She kissed him, and he felt the dampness on her cheek when their faces touched.
She took his hand and led him over to the bed. They sat down, side by side, and he put his arm around her shoulder.
"So, you're moving to France?"
Kate nodded. "I am."
"You always loved France."
"I hope you'll visit, if I'm still there in four years."
"Three and a half."
She smiled. "Even better. Did Mozzie tell you where I stored your things?"
"He did. Thanks."
She cupped his cheek in her hand and cocked her head. "Will you be okay? They won't hurt you?"
"No. I'll be fine."
"Good. I think about you a lot."
He glanced at his watch. They still had twenty minutes. He didn't know how strictly Peter would hold them to it, but Neal wanted to use every minute wisely.
"I don't want to talk about me."
Kate nodded and stroked the side of his face. Neal closed his eyes as she pulled him closer and held his head against her chest.
* * *
When Neal emerged from the hotel room, Peter was still leaning against the wall. He was looking at his phone, and put it away when he saw Neal.
"Did you get what you needed?"
"Yeah, I think so."
It wasn't easy to leave, but it wasn't as difficult as he'd expected.
"All right. Let's go home." As they started to walk toward the elevator, he said, "Is she going to write to you?"
"She said she would. Thanks."
"See? I'm not so unreasonable about this stuff as long as you don't sneak around."
Still, knowing Peter, Neal expected any mail he received to be read and inspected thoroughly. But he could live with that.
He wasn't convinced that Peter would have been this understanding before. That he was now was a testament to how much Neal's escape had shaken him. It made Neal feel better. That, and the fact that Peter hadn't caught him, made Neal feel like he had some control.
In the elevator, Peter said, "I called El while I was waiting for you. Told her I was bringing you home." He looked at Neal. "Good to see you smiling."
"Yeah, I was just thinking it was nice to turn myself in, instead of giving you the satisfaction of catching me again."
"Don't get cocky. A few more hours, and I'm sure I would've found you."
A few minutes later, they were in the car and heading in the direction of home. Neal's brief brush with freedom was about to come to an end. Of course, hiding out in Mozzie's safe house hadn't felt very free. But he would certainly miss the absence of the collar around his neck.
Regardless of what Peter had said about a second chance, he didn't expect Peter to be willing to take his collar off again for a long time.
When they arrived home, Elizabeth greeted them at the door. Like Peter, she had bags under her eyes and didn't look like she'd slept in a while.
She hugged Neal tightly, but when she stepped back, she wore a stern look and said, "Don't you ever do that again."
"No, ma'am." A little respect couldn't hurt his case.
Peter disappeared upstairs, and Neal pulled his leftover cash out of his pocket.
"Elizabeth, I don't know if you noticed, but I sort of took your emergency cash from the Renaissance masters book."
"I did notice, actually."
He handed her the cash. "I spent a lot of it on cab fare, but here's the rest. I'll find a way to pay you back."
Her expression softened as she took the money. "Oh, Neal...it would take you months to pay me back with your allowance. I don't expect you to do that. We'll find another way for you to make up for it. Maybe you can cook something special."
Neal relaxed a bit. He could handle that.
Peter came back downstairs. When Neal saw that he was carrying the collar and the key, his shoulders slumped.
"Great...just what I was looking forward to."
Peter clicked his tongue. "You've had this thing off long enough."
Neal obediently stood still while Peter fastened the collar around his neck. He'd been without it long enough that its presence was obtrusive. But within a couple minutes it felt normal again.
"Now," Peter said, putting his hands on his hips, "we had a deal, remember? You said you know where the stolen Dali is."
With everything that had happened, it almost felt like the meeting with Valentine had happened days ago.
"Right."
Holding up his hand, Peter said, "Now, before you say any more, are you going to be implicated at all?"
Neal cocked his head. "You think I would help rob the Met while I'm your slave?"
"Just checking."
Neal wasn't concerned about being implicated. Even if Valentine realized Neal had reported him, Neal doubted he would admit to more crimes just to get revenge. He'd tried to purchase stolen art, had conspired with an escaped slave, and had tried to sell a slave on the black market-all serious charges.
Neal sat down on the sofa and told them as much about what happened as possible, while omitting Mozzie's involvement and any incriminating details about the Chagall.
When he'd finished, Elizabeth took his hands and rubbed her thumbs over the marks on his wrists. "This man didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No. Unless you count drugging me."
Elizabeth turned to Peter. "Maybe we should take him to a doctor, just in case."
"I'm fine," Neal said quickly. "I wasn't hurt, and I don't think we need to try to explain this to a doctor."
"He's right," Peter said. "If he says he wasn’t hurt, I believe him. It's better to keep it between us."
Elizabeth still looked concerned as she turned back to Neal. "I'm just glad you weren't kidnapped. I hate to think of what could have happened to you."
"You're lucky," Peter said. "I hope you realize that."
Neal didn't want to think of it as luck, but he knew that was part of it.
Peter continued. "But I appreciate this information. I'll have to find a way to get a search warrant before we can go after this guy, but at least we know where to look. Now, I think Elizabeth and I need to talk. I'd like you to wait down here."
Neal nodded numbly. He stayed on the sofa as Peter and Elizabeth went upstairs. To talk about him, he supposed.
He took advantage of the privacy to dig his burner phone out of his bag. To his surprise, there were no missed calls. Mozzie hadn't tried to call him back.
He wondered how mad Mozzie was right now.
Neal erased the call history on the phone. No need to make it easy for Peter to find Mozzie's number, even of Mozzie had probably already ditched that one.
He considered putting the phone back in his bag and allowing Peter to find it. It'd be taken away, of course, just like the forged passport.
But he liked the idea of keeping a couple lifelines. Just in case. It was a risk, and Neal hadn't forgotten the punishment he'd gotten last time the Burkes discovered his contraband, but he decided to take his chances again. He collected the phone and passport and got down on his hands and knees. He reached underneath the sofa and felt around. Months ago, while cleaning, he'd discovered a tear in the cambric on the underside of the sofa. It was just big enough for him to fit the phone and passport inside.
Later, he would try to hide them outside the house somewhere. He could seal them in a plastic bag and bury them in the park, perhaps.
If one of the Burkes discovered them first...well, Peter should have known by now that Neal wouldn't stop trying.
Content that the items were secure for now, Neal sat back down on the sofa and waited. As the minutes ticked by, he grew tired, and slumped down so that he could rest his head on the sofa arm.
Eventually, he dozed off. He awoke to Peter shaking his shoulder.
Neal yawned and sat up. "Sorry. It's been a long day."
He still felt out of sorts from whatever Valentine gave him, too.
Peter nodded sympathetically. "I imagine you'll want to rest, so we'll make this quick. I told Elizabeth about our conversation this afternoon."
Neal looked questioningly at Elizabeth.
"I think we can handle your requests," Elizabeth said. "Actually, I think giving you a little more time off could be good. It's great having you take care of the house, but I'd like to do a little more cooking when I have time."
"And we agree you deserve a reward for helping us out at work," Peter said. "But it's been a long day. We can talk about this more later."
Neal nodded. He wasn't really in the mood for more negotiations, either. He planned to hold them to their agreement, though.
"The fact that you turned yourself in is a mitigating factor," Peter said. "But I told you I was going to punish you for running."
This was it. Neal wondered how bad it was going to be.
"I know," he said. "And I'll take the consequences."
"What do you think you deserve?" Peter asked.
Neal was taken aback. Peter had never asked him this before. Perhaps this was a new form of punishment-making him choose his own fate.
And he didn't know how to answer Peter's question. Neal didn't often think of himself as deserving punishment.
Finally, he said, "I don't think there's anything you could do to me that would teach me something I don't already know. But I know you need to punish me. So I'll accept your decision."
He hoped this was the right mixture of honesty and humility.
Peter nodded thoughtfully. "El and I will give it some thought. Right now, how about you get some rest? You were really out a minute ago."
Neal had mixed feelings about that. Peter was right-he was exhausted. But he wanted to know what his punishment was going to be.
But in the end, he was too tired to object. Peter picked up his bag and guided him up to his room.
Once there, Peter unceremoniously sifted through Neal's bag. When he was finished, he said, "All right, Neal. You know I need to search you."
Neal numbly took off his clothes, and Peter subjected him to a quick search. First, he made Neal open his mouth and run his fingers through his hair. Then he made him turn around, bend over, and spread his cheeks. Neal held the position until Peter patted him on the back.
"We'll talk about punishment later," Peter said. "For now, here's what's going to happen: you're going to stay naked for the next week, and you'll sleep on the floor of our bedroom where we can keep an eye on you."
"You mean, that isn't part of the punishment?"
"This is so you're not tempted to sneak out. It's a consequence, not a punishment. Any other questions?"
He gestured toward the bed. "Can I lie down?"
"Of course. You only have to sleep in our room at night. Go ahead and get some rest."
Peter left him alone, then. Neal sat down on the bed, and he noticed his shoebox sitting on the nightstand. So Peter had found his secret stash. They must have searched his room.
He picked it up and opened it. Most of the little odds and ends he'd collected were still there. The only thing missing was the screwdriver that Peter had been looking for a few months back. Neal could stand to lose that.
He put the shoebox back under the bed. It wasn't quite the same anymore now that the Burkes knew about it. But the fact that they hadn't taken it away gave him some comfort.
Neal curled up in his bed, pulling the blankets around his nude body. He couldn't sleep at first. He couldn't stop thinking about how Peter was going to punish him.
Whatever it was, it couldn't be worse than what would have happened if he'd been arrested for escaping. He would have been sent to a reconditioning center-two months of punishment and strict discipline to cure him of his behavioral problems. He heard they made slaves sleep in cages.
The floor of master bedroom had to be better than that.
Soon enough, exhaustion overtook him. He was in a deep sleep a few hours later, when Peter shook him awake.
Neal blinked and looked around. It was dark, and Peter had turned on the lamp beside the bed.
He started to get up, but Peter put a hand against his chest, stopping him.
"Relax. You don't have to get up right away. We just wanted to continue our chat."
Neal looked around and saw Elizabeth standing in the doorway to the room.
So that was it, then. They must have come to a decision about his punishment.
"Oh?" Neal said.
Peter sat down on the edge of the bed. "Over the past couple days, I've spent a lot of time thinking about what I'd do when I caught you. I thought I'd be angrier than I am. Truth is...I'm proud that you turned yourself in. I'm proud you recognized that you made a mistake."
"Are you saying I don't deserve to be punished?"
"No, I'm saying I want to give you a chance. I don't want to make you so miserable that you regret doing the right thing. And you deserve some leniency after all you've been through today. But there have to be consequences. El and I were worried about you. We're responsible for your well-being.
"You're on probation. You need to show me that I'm making the right choice in being lenient with you. We made a deal, but you need to stick to your end. Like I said, you will stay naked and sleep in our room. El and I are going to work it out so that one of us is always here to watch you. If we do need to take you out, you can dress, but you'll be on the leash. If I catch you trying to run again, you won't be allowed clothes at home for a long time. You'll sleep shackled to the bed. And I'll put you on a schedule of regular maintenance spankings."
"How long is this probation going to last, exactly?"
"One week. Then we'll put this in the past and make a fresh start. But if you try to run at any time, the consequences I mentioned will still stand."
Neal nodded. He could live with these terms. "I understand," he said.
"Good. Now, I think it's time we tried out the new paddle."
Peter stood and walked over to the dresser. He picked up the paddle, which Neal hadn't noticed until now. He sat back down on the bed and patted his knee.
Neal got up with a sigh, and draped himself over Peter's lap.
He wondered if Peter understood how ridiculous it was to spank him. What was he supposed to learn from it? But he thought back to what Peter had said about believing there needed to be consequences. Perhaps this was the kindest consequence Peter could give him.
He wasn't going to give Peter a hard time. He knew that the success of their negotiation depended on him being good. In the future, it wouldn't be so critical. But for now, he'd pick his battles. He just wished Elizabeth wasn't staring at his ass.
Peter didn't bother to lecture him. He rubbed Neal's back as though he was trying to soothe him, and then wrapped a strong arm around his waist. When the paddle struck his ass for the first time, Neal jerked. The paddle made a sharp cracking sound when it hit his skin, and he swore it hurt worse than the old paddle. Apparently, quality did make a difference.
Neal squirmed. Peter tightened his grip around his waist and gave him several rapid strikes. The sting was terrible, and Neal itched to reach back and protect himself. Meanwhile, he could feel the cool air between his cheeks and knew he was exposed to two sets of eyes.
It was the worst spanking Peter had ever given him, and yet Neal still sensed that Peter wasn't putting his full strength into it.
The swats seemed to rain down with no end. Neal hoped in vain that Peter's arm would get tired and he would at least give him a breather. Until now, Neal hadn't seen Peter's spankings as much of a punishment. They were unpleasant, but something he endured to give Peter some peace of mind and let him feel like a good disciplinarian.
But this-this he would remember even after the redness faded from his bottom.
Peter started working on his thighs, now. Neal jumped at the first swat to that sensitive area.
Neal couldn't help himself. "Ow!" he exclaimed. "Peter, that's enough. I've learned my lesson."
Peter ignored him.
Neal reflexively tried to move his ass out of the line of fire, but Peter just held him tighter. Not being able to move forced him to focus solely on the sting in his ass. Neal's head was down by Peter's feet, and his clutched Peter's pant leg in his hands.
Peter turned his attention to Neal's sit spot. Neal grimaced and blinked away tears. He refused to cry over a spanking. He'd taken worse pain than this in stride.
But it was just too much. After everything that had happened today, the paddle tapped the last ounce of strength Neal had.
"I swear, Peter," Neal said, trying to keep his voice even, "I've had enough."
Peter continued the spanking for what felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than a minute. At last, he set the paddle aside. He patted Neal's bottom, making him jump, and helped him to his feet.
Neal gratefully got up. But before he could savor his relief, Peter looked around him at Elizabeth.
"All right, Hon," he said. "You want to take over?"
Neal tensed. Shaking his head, he said, "No, that isn't necessary...."
Peter gave him a hard look. "I think it is." To Elizabeth, he said, "Maybe we can try him on the bed on this hands and knees. That should be a good height for you."
"No," Elizabeth said, "I want him over my knee like you do it. I can hold him."
Peter stood, and Elizabeth took his place on the bed. Neal stood frozen and refused to budge. Peter placed a hand on his back and pushed him over to Elizabeth. Neal tried to give her a pitiful look. He had a lot of pride, but not when it came to trying to milk Elizabeth for sympathy.
But Elizabeth looked unmoved. "Come on, Neal," she said, "let's finish your punishment."
When Neal didn't move fast enough, Peter grabbed him and manhandled him over Elizabeth's lap. As they worked together to adjust his position, Neal started to squirm to get out of their grasp.
With a frustrated huff, Peter gave him a hard slap on the ass with his palm.
"Neal! Stop that!" Another slap. "If you don't settle down and behave for Elizabeth, I'll use my belt on you."
Neal froze. He lay across Elizabeth's thighs, his chest heaving.
"That's better," Peter said. "If you can't stay still, we might have to consider getting a spanking bench, after all."
In the face of that threat, his rebellion ebbed. He was embarrassed at himself for struggling. He'd agreed to accept the consequences, and he would.
It was hard, though. He was used to Peter doing the spanking. It was different with Elizabeth. It was bad enough for her to see him like this, let alone take part. He was painfully aware of the way his deck was pressed against her leg.
Since Elizabeth was smaller than Peter, Neal had to rest his upper body on the bed. That meant his ass wasn't as elevated. A small mercy.
Elizabeth didn't paddle him as hard as Peter had. But his tenderized ass didn't seem to know the difference. Neal buried his head in his arms.
When it was finally over, Neal didn't have the energy to move. He lay spent across Elizabeth's lap and tried to wipe the tears from his eyes without them noticing. Elizabeth rubbed his ass and lower back.
Peter and Elizabeth allowed Neal a minute to recover, and then helped him sit up on the bed. Even the soft mattress was uncomfortable on his spanked bottom. Peter and Elizabeth sat down on either side of him, and Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
"There you go," Peter said, "all over now. But I mean it-you're on probation. And if you do run again, I won't be able to give you another chance. I'll have to report it to the authorities and have you classed as a fugitive."
Neal nodded. Trying to muster up some charm, he said, "I understand. Don't worry, Peter. Where am I going to go?"
Neal knew better than to make promises. But he had no intention of running again anytime soon. Kate would be gone. And somehow, just knowing that he could run, and that he might be on his way overseas right now if he hadn't returned, gave him a stronger feeling of control.
"You'll be getting a couple reminder spankings this week, just to make sure the message sinks in."
Neal tensed. "Reminder spankings?"
"If you're good, I'll just use my hand."
Neal wasn't sure if that was such a good deal-Peter's hands were strong. Still, he had little doubt that had he not turned himself in, the reminder spankings would involve the paddle. Or the belt.
Peter patted his back and stood up. Neal expected him to leave, but instead his opened the top nightstand drawer and retrieved the bottle of lube that Neal was required to keep on hand.
Neal watched while Peter unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants. "Really?" he asked. "You want to do this now?"
"Yeah, I do. I'm happy to have my slave back. And it'll help seal the deal on our new start."
Neal raised his eyebrows. "Like a handshake?"
"Sure, kind of like that."
Neal didn't know what to make of this. Usually, Peter didn't want to touch him sexually after a punishment. He seemed to think it created the wrong mood.
Elizabeth must have noticed Neal's confusion. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and said, "Don't worry. It's not part of your punishment. He won't hurt you. We just think it'll do you some good to get fucked by your master, and have him inside you."
Now Neal understood. This was Peter reestablishing who was in charge.
Neal could have minded, but he didn't. He was willing to humor Peter if it paid off in the long run. If Peter was confident that he wasn't going to lose his slave, he would be more comfortable letting Neal have more freedom.
Peter bent over and kissed Neal. Neal parted his lips and let Peter's tongue push inside. The kiss was surprisingly soft, and the tension ebbed from Neal's body. Neal realized that his back and shoulders were sore from tensing his muscles.
Peter broke off the kiss. He stood up and aimed the tip of his cock at Neal's lips. Neal understood what that meant, and opened his mouth.
He was too worn out give an enthusiastic blow job, but Peter didn't seem to care. He squeezed Neal's shoulders and gently thrust into his mouth. He put one hand behind Neal's neck and gently held his head in place.
Neal relaxed his throat and let Peter do all the work.
Suddenly, Peter pulled out. Neal blinked, wondering if Peter was displeased.
But Peter simply pushed him onto his back. Neal scooted back and planted his feet on the bed, spreading his knees. Peter took off his pants and underwear and climbed onto the bed between Neal's legs.
Elizabeth curled up beside Neal and stroked his hair. She used her thumb to wipe away the drying tear tracks on Neal's cheeks.
While lubing up his cock with one hand, Peter used the other to gently stroke Neal's stomach.
When Peter slipped a couple slick fingers into Neal's hole, Neal obligingly inched his legs further apart.
Peter smiled at that. "You're doing great," he said. "I'm going to take good care of you."
He could think of more appealing ways for Peter to prove it to him. But he could handle being fucked. Getting fucked meant being touched. It meant that Peter wasn't angry with him. He needed that right now.
And today, he was willing to give Peter what he wanted. He had some grudging respect for the fact that Peter hadn't turned him in. He knew it wasn't just fear of embarrassment or reproach that had prevented Peter from doing it. He knew the value of a master who would take care of him, and if Peter was willing to fill that role then, well, Neal could try to be a decent slave in return. At least occasionally.
He wasn't going to tell Peter this, though. Peter didn't need the ego boost, and it was better not to let Peter expect too much from him.
Peter pulled his fingers from Neal's ass and hooked his arms around Neal's thighs. He pushed Neal's legs back and pressed the engorged tip of his cock against Neal's hole. Neal's body offered no resistance as Peter pushed it in.
"There you go," Peter murmured. "That's good. Spread your legs and remember who your ass belongs to."
Neal felt like rolling his eyes at that. Instead, he hooked his ankles around Peter's waist. He reached up and placed a hand on Peter's taut bicep.
Peter was surprisingly gentle with him. Neal expected something rougher and more possessive. Instead, Peter's pace was almost agonizingly slow. A rough fuck left him sore, but it was quick and satisfying. But this time, it was like Peter was trying to savor something. He was trying to make an impression.
Neal felt like he was being teased. But he was too spent to do anything but take what Peter gave him.
Neal's eyes wandered up to a crack in the ceiling, but Peter's voice redirected his attention.
"No, I want you to look at me."
Neal locked his gaze onto Peter's face. He looked into his eyes. He didn't see as much lust as he usually did, but he didn't see anger, either.
Peter reached down with one hand and started to fondle Neal's cock. Neal hadn't thought himself capable of arousal right now, but his cock sprang to life in Peter's hand.
After what felt like a very long time, he let go of Neal's cock and gripped his legs. He squeezed his eyes shut and his muscles tensed. Neal felt Peter's cock twitch inside him as he came, filling Neal's ass with his come.
Elizabeth kissed his forehead. "Do you feel that? He's marking you. Because he likes you and we want you to be ours."
Panting, Peter pulled out. Instead of releasing Neal, however, he returned his attention to Neal's cock. He pursed his lips as though he was performing a duty, and didn't let up until Neal came. Neal bit his lip and whimpered.
Instead of getting up, Peter lay down beside Neal. Elizabeth still lay on his other side, stroking his hair.
Kissing him on the cheek, Elizabeth said, "I'm proud of you. You're taking this so well."
Neal lay sandwiched between them in silence. Their hands stroked his hair, his chest, his neck. His vision started to blur and he blinked rapidly to disperse the tears he couldn't hold back.
"Ah, it's okay," Peter said. "The worst is over. Things will be all right. You'll see."
Elizabeth cradled his head against her chest. "Do you miss Kate?" she asked.
Neal nodded.
"But it's more than that, isn't it? You miss being free."
He nodded again and sobbed.
"We know it isn't easy. But Peter's right. You're going to be fine. It's only a few years, and you're strong. We want to give you a good life."
She held him close and Peter rubbed his back while all the stress of the last few days came out in sobs.
When the sobbing abated and Neal's tears began to dry, Peter got up.
"I'm going to go get in the shower," Peter said. "You going to be all right?"
"Yeah," Neal said.
"When he's done," Elizabeth said, "maybe we can run you a bath. I know that will cheer you up."
As Peter started for the hall, Neal disengaged from Elizabeth's hold and spoke up.
"For the record, if I have to be owned by someone, I'm glad it's you guys."
Peter froze and looked over his shoulder. "You're not curious if you would've lucked out with the guy in Thailand?"
Neal knew what Peter meant: though there were horror stories about slaves being sold overseas to abusive owners, there were also some happy endings. Several years back, a slave who'd been kidnapped years prior turned up in Belgium, living under an alias after the man who bought him on the black market freed him. As his sentence had ended during his illegal captivity, he was free.
And Neal was nothing if not good at making the most of his circumstances.
But Neal said, "No. I'll take what I've got."
Chapter 25
This entry was originally posted at http://citrinesunset.dreamwidth.org/117859.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Fandom: White Collar
Characters/Pairing: Neal/Peter, Peter/Elizabeth/Neal, Neal/Elizabeth, Peter/Elizabeth, references to Neal/Kate
Rating: Explicit
Contains: Non-con, dub-con, institutionalized slavery, spanking, humiliation, dark!Peter, dark!Elizabeth, sex, rimming
Word count: 5460 this part. About 124k total.
Summary: After being convicted of bond forgery, Neal is sentenced to four years of slavery. But he isn't prepared to be purchased by Peter Burke. Or for what Peter has in store for him.
Notes: See Chapter 1 for details.
He'd imagined this moment so many times, in different settings and contexts, but he'd never imagined how fast his heart was pounding, or how dry his mouth was.
When Kate answered, her eyes were wide and concerned. It reminded him of the day he was arrested.
"Neal...." she looked over his shoulder at Peter, who was standing against the wall.
"Peter brought me," Neal said. "I just want a minute."
"Okay...come in."
She stepped aside to let him in, and closed the door behind him.
Neal looked around the room. She had two large suitcases and a smaller bag by the window.
"I know you told Peter you didn't want to see me," he said.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to know that."
Kate sat down on the edge of the bed. She was dressed plainly in jeans and a knit top, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, exposing her long, graceful neck. She folded her arms across her stomach.
"I thought it would make it harder for you," she said. "I didn't want you to think I was leaving you because you were a-because you were arrested."
Neal leaned against the desk against the opposite wall. "You aren't planning on us being together again, are you?"
She shook her head, but said, "I don't know. We weren't together for a while, Neal. You being arrested didn't change that. How can we even think about starting again right now?" Her eyes focused on Neal's neck. "You're not wearing a collar."
"I ran. To find you."
She looked away, her eyes glistening. "Neal...."
"Peter won't report it if I go back with him now. He let me come here first to see you." He glanced at the door. "But we can still run. Say the word, and I'll find a way to get us out of here."
Hope momentarily filled him. He started thinking of ways to do it-he could call room service to create a distraction. He could start to leave with Peter but break away. It would mean breaking his promise to Peter, and part of him would feel bad about that, but he wouldn’t feel bad in six months. Not if he was with Kate.
But Kate bit her lip and closed her eyes. "Please, don't. I don't want to run. How long do we have?"
"A half hour."
"Then let's not waste it."
It hadn't hit him until now that this might be goodbye. If he saw her again, it wouldn't be until he was freed. And even that was uncertain.
"Did you love me?"
She smiled and sniffled. "I think part of me will always love you."
It was as good of an answer as he could have hoped for, but the finality of it, the implication that she would never love him enough, pierced him like a knife.
Kate stood up and put her hands on his shoulders. She kissed him, and he felt the dampness on her cheek when their faces touched.
She took his hand and led him over to the bed. They sat down, side by side, and he put his arm around her shoulder.
"So, you're moving to France?"
Kate nodded. "I am."
"You always loved France."
"I hope you'll visit, if I'm still there in four years."
"Three and a half."
She smiled. "Even better. Did Mozzie tell you where I stored your things?"
"He did. Thanks."
She cupped his cheek in her hand and cocked her head. "Will you be okay? They won't hurt you?"
"No. I'll be fine."
"Good. I think about you a lot."
He glanced at his watch. They still had twenty minutes. He didn't know how strictly Peter would hold them to it, but Neal wanted to use every minute wisely.
"I don't want to talk about me."
Kate nodded and stroked the side of his face. Neal closed his eyes as she pulled him closer and held his head against her chest.
* * *
When Neal emerged from the hotel room, Peter was still leaning against the wall. He was looking at his phone, and put it away when he saw Neal.
"Did you get what you needed?"
"Yeah, I think so."
It wasn't easy to leave, but it wasn't as difficult as he'd expected.
"All right. Let's go home." As they started to walk toward the elevator, he said, "Is she going to write to you?"
"She said she would. Thanks."
"See? I'm not so unreasonable about this stuff as long as you don't sneak around."
Still, knowing Peter, Neal expected any mail he received to be read and inspected thoroughly. But he could live with that.
He wasn't convinced that Peter would have been this understanding before. That he was now was a testament to how much Neal's escape had shaken him. It made Neal feel better. That, and the fact that Peter hadn't caught him, made Neal feel like he had some control.
In the elevator, Peter said, "I called El while I was waiting for you. Told her I was bringing you home." He looked at Neal. "Good to see you smiling."
"Yeah, I was just thinking it was nice to turn myself in, instead of giving you the satisfaction of catching me again."
"Don't get cocky. A few more hours, and I'm sure I would've found you."
A few minutes later, they were in the car and heading in the direction of home. Neal's brief brush with freedom was about to come to an end. Of course, hiding out in Mozzie's safe house hadn't felt very free. But he would certainly miss the absence of the collar around his neck.
Regardless of what Peter had said about a second chance, he didn't expect Peter to be willing to take his collar off again for a long time.
When they arrived home, Elizabeth greeted them at the door. Like Peter, she had bags under her eyes and didn't look like she'd slept in a while.
She hugged Neal tightly, but when she stepped back, she wore a stern look and said, "Don't you ever do that again."
"No, ma'am." A little respect couldn't hurt his case.
Peter disappeared upstairs, and Neal pulled his leftover cash out of his pocket.
"Elizabeth, I don't know if you noticed, but I sort of took your emergency cash from the Renaissance masters book."
"I did notice, actually."
He handed her the cash. "I spent a lot of it on cab fare, but here's the rest. I'll find a way to pay you back."
Her expression softened as she took the money. "Oh, Neal...it would take you months to pay me back with your allowance. I don't expect you to do that. We'll find another way for you to make up for it. Maybe you can cook something special."
Neal relaxed a bit. He could handle that.
Peter came back downstairs. When Neal saw that he was carrying the collar and the key, his shoulders slumped.
"Great...just what I was looking forward to."
Peter clicked his tongue. "You've had this thing off long enough."
Neal obediently stood still while Peter fastened the collar around his neck. He'd been without it long enough that its presence was obtrusive. But within a couple minutes it felt normal again.
"Now," Peter said, putting his hands on his hips, "we had a deal, remember? You said you know where the stolen Dali is."
With everything that had happened, it almost felt like the meeting with Valentine had happened days ago.
"Right."
Holding up his hand, Peter said, "Now, before you say any more, are you going to be implicated at all?"
Neal cocked his head. "You think I would help rob the Met while I'm your slave?"
"Just checking."
Neal wasn't concerned about being implicated. Even if Valentine realized Neal had reported him, Neal doubted he would admit to more crimes just to get revenge. He'd tried to purchase stolen art, had conspired with an escaped slave, and had tried to sell a slave on the black market-all serious charges.
Neal sat down on the sofa and told them as much about what happened as possible, while omitting Mozzie's involvement and any incriminating details about the Chagall.
When he'd finished, Elizabeth took his hands and rubbed her thumbs over the marks on his wrists. "This man didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No. Unless you count drugging me."
Elizabeth turned to Peter. "Maybe we should take him to a doctor, just in case."
"I'm fine," Neal said quickly. "I wasn't hurt, and I don't think we need to try to explain this to a doctor."
"He's right," Peter said. "If he says he wasn’t hurt, I believe him. It's better to keep it between us."
Elizabeth still looked concerned as she turned back to Neal. "I'm just glad you weren't kidnapped. I hate to think of what could have happened to you."
"You're lucky," Peter said. "I hope you realize that."
Neal didn't want to think of it as luck, but he knew that was part of it.
Peter continued. "But I appreciate this information. I'll have to find a way to get a search warrant before we can go after this guy, but at least we know where to look. Now, I think Elizabeth and I need to talk. I'd like you to wait down here."
Neal nodded numbly. He stayed on the sofa as Peter and Elizabeth went upstairs. To talk about him, he supposed.
He took advantage of the privacy to dig his burner phone out of his bag. To his surprise, there were no missed calls. Mozzie hadn't tried to call him back.
He wondered how mad Mozzie was right now.
Neal erased the call history on the phone. No need to make it easy for Peter to find Mozzie's number, even of Mozzie had probably already ditched that one.
He considered putting the phone back in his bag and allowing Peter to find it. It'd be taken away, of course, just like the forged passport.
But he liked the idea of keeping a couple lifelines. Just in case. It was a risk, and Neal hadn't forgotten the punishment he'd gotten last time the Burkes discovered his contraband, but he decided to take his chances again. He collected the phone and passport and got down on his hands and knees. He reached underneath the sofa and felt around. Months ago, while cleaning, he'd discovered a tear in the cambric on the underside of the sofa. It was just big enough for him to fit the phone and passport inside.
Later, he would try to hide them outside the house somewhere. He could seal them in a plastic bag and bury them in the park, perhaps.
If one of the Burkes discovered them first...well, Peter should have known by now that Neal wouldn't stop trying.
Content that the items were secure for now, Neal sat back down on the sofa and waited. As the minutes ticked by, he grew tired, and slumped down so that he could rest his head on the sofa arm.
Eventually, he dozed off. He awoke to Peter shaking his shoulder.
Neal yawned and sat up. "Sorry. It's been a long day."
He still felt out of sorts from whatever Valentine gave him, too.
Peter nodded sympathetically. "I imagine you'll want to rest, so we'll make this quick. I told Elizabeth about our conversation this afternoon."
Neal looked questioningly at Elizabeth.
"I think we can handle your requests," Elizabeth said. "Actually, I think giving you a little more time off could be good. It's great having you take care of the house, but I'd like to do a little more cooking when I have time."
"And we agree you deserve a reward for helping us out at work," Peter said. "But it's been a long day. We can talk about this more later."
Neal nodded. He wasn't really in the mood for more negotiations, either. He planned to hold them to their agreement, though.
"The fact that you turned yourself in is a mitigating factor," Peter said. "But I told you I was going to punish you for running."
This was it. Neal wondered how bad it was going to be.
"I know," he said. "And I'll take the consequences."
"What do you think you deserve?" Peter asked.
Neal was taken aback. Peter had never asked him this before. Perhaps this was a new form of punishment-making him choose his own fate.
And he didn't know how to answer Peter's question. Neal didn't often think of himself as deserving punishment.
Finally, he said, "I don't think there's anything you could do to me that would teach me something I don't already know. But I know you need to punish me. So I'll accept your decision."
He hoped this was the right mixture of honesty and humility.
Peter nodded thoughtfully. "El and I will give it some thought. Right now, how about you get some rest? You were really out a minute ago."
Neal had mixed feelings about that. Peter was right-he was exhausted. But he wanted to know what his punishment was going to be.
But in the end, he was too tired to object. Peter picked up his bag and guided him up to his room.
Once there, Peter unceremoniously sifted through Neal's bag. When he was finished, he said, "All right, Neal. You know I need to search you."
Neal numbly took off his clothes, and Peter subjected him to a quick search. First, he made Neal open his mouth and run his fingers through his hair. Then he made him turn around, bend over, and spread his cheeks. Neal held the position until Peter patted him on the back.
"We'll talk about punishment later," Peter said. "For now, here's what's going to happen: you're going to stay naked for the next week, and you'll sleep on the floor of our bedroom where we can keep an eye on you."
"You mean, that isn't part of the punishment?"
"This is so you're not tempted to sneak out. It's a consequence, not a punishment. Any other questions?"
He gestured toward the bed. "Can I lie down?"
"Of course. You only have to sleep in our room at night. Go ahead and get some rest."
Peter left him alone, then. Neal sat down on the bed, and he noticed his shoebox sitting on the nightstand. So Peter had found his secret stash. They must have searched his room.
He picked it up and opened it. Most of the little odds and ends he'd collected were still there. The only thing missing was the screwdriver that Peter had been looking for a few months back. Neal could stand to lose that.
He put the shoebox back under the bed. It wasn't quite the same anymore now that the Burkes knew about it. But the fact that they hadn't taken it away gave him some comfort.
Neal curled up in his bed, pulling the blankets around his nude body. He couldn't sleep at first. He couldn't stop thinking about how Peter was going to punish him.
Whatever it was, it couldn't be worse than what would have happened if he'd been arrested for escaping. He would have been sent to a reconditioning center-two months of punishment and strict discipline to cure him of his behavioral problems. He heard they made slaves sleep in cages.
The floor of master bedroom had to be better than that.
Soon enough, exhaustion overtook him. He was in a deep sleep a few hours later, when Peter shook him awake.
Neal blinked and looked around. It was dark, and Peter had turned on the lamp beside the bed.
He started to get up, but Peter put a hand against his chest, stopping him.
"Relax. You don't have to get up right away. We just wanted to continue our chat."
Neal looked around and saw Elizabeth standing in the doorway to the room.
So that was it, then. They must have come to a decision about his punishment.
"Oh?" Neal said.
Peter sat down on the edge of the bed. "Over the past couple days, I've spent a lot of time thinking about what I'd do when I caught you. I thought I'd be angrier than I am. Truth is...I'm proud that you turned yourself in. I'm proud you recognized that you made a mistake."
"Are you saying I don't deserve to be punished?"
"No, I'm saying I want to give you a chance. I don't want to make you so miserable that you regret doing the right thing. And you deserve some leniency after all you've been through today. But there have to be consequences. El and I were worried about you. We're responsible for your well-being.
"You're on probation. You need to show me that I'm making the right choice in being lenient with you. We made a deal, but you need to stick to your end. Like I said, you will stay naked and sleep in our room. El and I are going to work it out so that one of us is always here to watch you. If we do need to take you out, you can dress, but you'll be on the leash. If I catch you trying to run again, you won't be allowed clothes at home for a long time. You'll sleep shackled to the bed. And I'll put you on a schedule of regular maintenance spankings."
"How long is this probation going to last, exactly?"
"One week. Then we'll put this in the past and make a fresh start. But if you try to run at any time, the consequences I mentioned will still stand."
Neal nodded. He could live with these terms. "I understand," he said.
"Good. Now, I think it's time we tried out the new paddle."
Peter stood and walked over to the dresser. He picked up the paddle, which Neal hadn't noticed until now. He sat back down on the bed and patted his knee.
Neal got up with a sigh, and draped himself over Peter's lap.
He wondered if Peter understood how ridiculous it was to spank him. What was he supposed to learn from it? But he thought back to what Peter had said about believing there needed to be consequences. Perhaps this was the kindest consequence Peter could give him.
He wasn't going to give Peter a hard time. He knew that the success of their negotiation depended on him being good. In the future, it wouldn't be so critical. But for now, he'd pick his battles. He just wished Elizabeth wasn't staring at his ass.
Peter didn't bother to lecture him. He rubbed Neal's back as though he was trying to soothe him, and then wrapped a strong arm around his waist. When the paddle struck his ass for the first time, Neal jerked. The paddle made a sharp cracking sound when it hit his skin, and he swore it hurt worse than the old paddle. Apparently, quality did make a difference.
Neal squirmed. Peter tightened his grip around his waist and gave him several rapid strikes. The sting was terrible, and Neal itched to reach back and protect himself. Meanwhile, he could feel the cool air between his cheeks and knew he was exposed to two sets of eyes.
It was the worst spanking Peter had ever given him, and yet Neal still sensed that Peter wasn't putting his full strength into it.
The swats seemed to rain down with no end. Neal hoped in vain that Peter's arm would get tired and he would at least give him a breather. Until now, Neal hadn't seen Peter's spankings as much of a punishment. They were unpleasant, but something he endured to give Peter some peace of mind and let him feel like a good disciplinarian.
But this-this he would remember even after the redness faded from his bottom.
Peter started working on his thighs, now. Neal jumped at the first swat to that sensitive area.
Neal couldn't help himself. "Ow!" he exclaimed. "Peter, that's enough. I've learned my lesson."
Peter ignored him.
Neal reflexively tried to move his ass out of the line of fire, but Peter just held him tighter. Not being able to move forced him to focus solely on the sting in his ass. Neal's head was down by Peter's feet, and his clutched Peter's pant leg in his hands.
Peter turned his attention to Neal's sit spot. Neal grimaced and blinked away tears. He refused to cry over a spanking. He'd taken worse pain than this in stride.
But it was just too much. After everything that had happened today, the paddle tapped the last ounce of strength Neal had.
"I swear, Peter," Neal said, trying to keep his voice even, "I've had enough."
Peter continued the spanking for what felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than a minute. At last, he set the paddle aside. He patted Neal's bottom, making him jump, and helped him to his feet.
Neal gratefully got up. But before he could savor his relief, Peter looked around him at Elizabeth.
"All right, Hon," he said. "You want to take over?"
Neal tensed. Shaking his head, he said, "No, that isn't necessary...."
Peter gave him a hard look. "I think it is." To Elizabeth, he said, "Maybe we can try him on the bed on this hands and knees. That should be a good height for you."
"No," Elizabeth said, "I want him over my knee like you do it. I can hold him."
Peter stood, and Elizabeth took his place on the bed. Neal stood frozen and refused to budge. Peter placed a hand on his back and pushed him over to Elizabeth. Neal tried to give her a pitiful look. He had a lot of pride, but not when it came to trying to milk Elizabeth for sympathy.
But Elizabeth looked unmoved. "Come on, Neal," she said, "let's finish your punishment."
When Neal didn't move fast enough, Peter grabbed him and manhandled him over Elizabeth's lap. As they worked together to adjust his position, Neal started to squirm to get out of their grasp.
With a frustrated huff, Peter gave him a hard slap on the ass with his palm.
"Neal! Stop that!" Another slap. "If you don't settle down and behave for Elizabeth, I'll use my belt on you."
Neal froze. He lay across Elizabeth's thighs, his chest heaving.
"That's better," Peter said. "If you can't stay still, we might have to consider getting a spanking bench, after all."
In the face of that threat, his rebellion ebbed. He was embarrassed at himself for struggling. He'd agreed to accept the consequences, and he would.
It was hard, though. He was used to Peter doing the spanking. It was different with Elizabeth. It was bad enough for her to see him like this, let alone take part. He was painfully aware of the way his deck was pressed against her leg.
Since Elizabeth was smaller than Peter, Neal had to rest his upper body on the bed. That meant his ass wasn't as elevated. A small mercy.
Elizabeth didn't paddle him as hard as Peter had. But his tenderized ass didn't seem to know the difference. Neal buried his head in his arms.
When it was finally over, Neal didn't have the energy to move. He lay spent across Elizabeth's lap and tried to wipe the tears from his eyes without them noticing. Elizabeth rubbed his ass and lower back.
Peter and Elizabeth allowed Neal a minute to recover, and then helped him sit up on the bed. Even the soft mattress was uncomfortable on his spanked bottom. Peter and Elizabeth sat down on either side of him, and Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
"There you go," Peter said, "all over now. But I mean it-you're on probation. And if you do run again, I won't be able to give you another chance. I'll have to report it to the authorities and have you classed as a fugitive."
Neal nodded. Trying to muster up some charm, he said, "I understand. Don't worry, Peter. Where am I going to go?"
Neal knew better than to make promises. But he had no intention of running again anytime soon. Kate would be gone. And somehow, just knowing that he could run, and that he might be on his way overseas right now if he hadn't returned, gave him a stronger feeling of control.
"You'll be getting a couple reminder spankings this week, just to make sure the message sinks in."
Neal tensed. "Reminder spankings?"
"If you're good, I'll just use my hand."
Neal wasn't sure if that was such a good deal-Peter's hands were strong. Still, he had little doubt that had he not turned himself in, the reminder spankings would involve the paddle. Or the belt.
Peter patted his back and stood up. Neal expected him to leave, but instead his opened the top nightstand drawer and retrieved the bottle of lube that Neal was required to keep on hand.
Neal watched while Peter unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants. "Really?" he asked. "You want to do this now?"
"Yeah, I do. I'm happy to have my slave back. And it'll help seal the deal on our new start."
Neal raised his eyebrows. "Like a handshake?"
"Sure, kind of like that."
Neal didn't know what to make of this. Usually, Peter didn't want to touch him sexually after a punishment. He seemed to think it created the wrong mood.
Elizabeth must have noticed Neal's confusion. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and said, "Don't worry. It's not part of your punishment. He won't hurt you. We just think it'll do you some good to get fucked by your master, and have him inside you."
Now Neal understood. This was Peter reestablishing who was in charge.
Neal could have minded, but he didn't. He was willing to humor Peter if it paid off in the long run. If Peter was confident that he wasn't going to lose his slave, he would be more comfortable letting Neal have more freedom.
Peter bent over and kissed Neal. Neal parted his lips and let Peter's tongue push inside. The kiss was surprisingly soft, and the tension ebbed from Neal's body. Neal realized that his back and shoulders were sore from tensing his muscles.
Peter broke off the kiss. He stood up and aimed the tip of his cock at Neal's lips. Neal understood what that meant, and opened his mouth.
He was too worn out give an enthusiastic blow job, but Peter didn't seem to care. He squeezed Neal's shoulders and gently thrust into his mouth. He put one hand behind Neal's neck and gently held his head in place.
Neal relaxed his throat and let Peter do all the work.
Suddenly, Peter pulled out. Neal blinked, wondering if Peter was displeased.
But Peter simply pushed him onto his back. Neal scooted back and planted his feet on the bed, spreading his knees. Peter took off his pants and underwear and climbed onto the bed between Neal's legs.
Elizabeth curled up beside Neal and stroked his hair. She used her thumb to wipe away the drying tear tracks on Neal's cheeks.
While lubing up his cock with one hand, Peter used the other to gently stroke Neal's stomach.
When Peter slipped a couple slick fingers into Neal's hole, Neal obligingly inched his legs further apart.
Peter smiled at that. "You're doing great," he said. "I'm going to take good care of you."
He could think of more appealing ways for Peter to prove it to him. But he could handle being fucked. Getting fucked meant being touched. It meant that Peter wasn't angry with him. He needed that right now.
And today, he was willing to give Peter what he wanted. He had some grudging respect for the fact that Peter hadn't turned him in. He knew it wasn't just fear of embarrassment or reproach that had prevented Peter from doing it. He knew the value of a master who would take care of him, and if Peter was willing to fill that role then, well, Neal could try to be a decent slave in return. At least occasionally.
He wasn't going to tell Peter this, though. Peter didn't need the ego boost, and it was better not to let Peter expect too much from him.
Peter pulled his fingers from Neal's ass and hooked his arms around Neal's thighs. He pushed Neal's legs back and pressed the engorged tip of his cock against Neal's hole. Neal's body offered no resistance as Peter pushed it in.
"There you go," Peter murmured. "That's good. Spread your legs and remember who your ass belongs to."
Neal felt like rolling his eyes at that. Instead, he hooked his ankles around Peter's waist. He reached up and placed a hand on Peter's taut bicep.
Peter was surprisingly gentle with him. Neal expected something rougher and more possessive. Instead, Peter's pace was almost agonizingly slow. A rough fuck left him sore, but it was quick and satisfying. But this time, it was like Peter was trying to savor something. He was trying to make an impression.
Neal felt like he was being teased. But he was too spent to do anything but take what Peter gave him.
Neal's eyes wandered up to a crack in the ceiling, but Peter's voice redirected his attention.
"No, I want you to look at me."
Neal locked his gaze onto Peter's face. He looked into his eyes. He didn't see as much lust as he usually did, but he didn't see anger, either.
Peter reached down with one hand and started to fondle Neal's cock. Neal hadn't thought himself capable of arousal right now, but his cock sprang to life in Peter's hand.
After what felt like a very long time, he let go of Neal's cock and gripped his legs. He squeezed his eyes shut and his muscles tensed. Neal felt Peter's cock twitch inside him as he came, filling Neal's ass with his come.
Elizabeth kissed his forehead. "Do you feel that? He's marking you. Because he likes you and we want you to be ours."
Panting, Peter pulled out. Instead of releasing Neal, however, he returned his attention to Neal's cock. He pursed his lips as though he was performing a duty, and didn't let up until Neal came. Neal bit his lip and whimpered.
Instead of getting up, Peter lay down beside Neal. Elizabeth still lay on his other side, stroking his hair.
Kissing him on the cheek, Elizabeth said, "I'm proud of you. You're taking this so well."
Neal lay sandwiched between them in silence. Their hands stroked his hair, his chest, his neck. His vision started to blur and he blinked rapidly to disperse the tears he couldn't hold back.
"Ah, it's okay," Peter said. "The worst is over. Things will be all right. You'll see."
Elizabeth cradled his head against her chest. "Do you miss Kate?" she asked.
Neal nodded.
"But it's more than that, isn't it? You miss being free."
He nodded again and sobbed.
"We know it isn't easy. But Peter's right. You're going to be fine. It's only a few years, and you're strong. We want to give you a good life."
She held him close and Peter rubbed his back while all the stress of the last few days came out in sobs.
When the sobbing abated and Neal's tears began to dry, Peter got up.
"I'm going to go get in the shower," Peter said. "You going to be all right?"
"Yeah," Neal said.
"When he's done," Elizabeth said, "maybe we can run you a bath. I know that will cheer you up."
As Peter started for the hall, Neal disengaged from Elizabeth's hold and spoke up.
"For the record, if I have to be owned by someone, I'm glad it's you guys."
Peter froze and looked over his shoulder. "You're not curious if you would've lucked out with the guy in Thailand?"
Neal knew what Peter meant: though there were horror stories about slaves being sold overseas to abusive owners, there were also some happy endings. Several years back, a slave who'd been kidnapped years prior turned up in Belgium, living under an alias after the man who bought him on the black market freed him. As his sentence had ended during his illegal captivity, he was free.
And Neal was nothing if not good at making the most of his circumstances.
But Neal said, "No. I'll take what I've got."
Chapter 25
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