The long-awaited sixth installment of Laura Antoniou’s Marketplace series!
When last we saw Chris Parker, he had been bought by master trainer Tetsuo Sakai and was blissfully ensconced in Japan under Tetsuo’s wonderfully sadistic boot. And here we join Robin Cassidy, now contentedly serving a slave contract for a rich Chicago businessman. But the Marketplace is shaken when a new Trainer of Trainers must be anointed and the resulting machinations and clashing loyalties threaten to tear their world apart. Everyone has a stake in the outcome and Chris Parker is about to find out who is with him and who is against him.
Richly told, interconnecting threads of Parker’s previously unseen past with his complicated present, The Inheritor also weaves in the narratives of many favorite Marketplace characters, including Robin, Ken Mandarin, Ron Avidon, and features appearances by many more, including Jiro, Rachel, Michael, and Grendel.
Laura Antoniou is the award-winning author of The Killer Wore Leather and the long-running series that began in 1993 with The Marketplace.
Enjoy a delicious excerpt from THE INHERITOR:
“My prize,” he murmured in English, cutting through Chris’s jacket, his shirt, not only stripping him, but ruining everything he was ordered to wear, fabric ripped and torn and sliced into ribbons. “You will dress only in what I give you from this moment on. Master Trainer Chris Parker, you are mine.” He took Chris’s glasses off last, putting them carefully aside, and then examined him.
Not with the curious and then admiring way he had just…ten days previously? At the Academy, when they drank and bathed together, and his only touch had been a companionable clasp of a shoulder. Not even in the triumphant, satisfied manner in which he took hold of the locked collar for the first time, when he had twisted it in his hands and brought Chris close to him and stared into his eyes while hoarsely whispering, “Leave me,” to his servants and apprentices.
This time, he walked around the property he’d bought and sent to this city and building with no hint at when he might see his new owner again. Examined him with eyes and expression hooded. Masked with discipline and misdirection. He slipped the knife back into its sheath, adjusted his cuffs.
He gestured, had his cock out before Chris knelt and bowed among the scraps of his clothing, stripped to collar and cock and half blind and eager. And his new owner pulled him up by the hair and pinned his cock down with the toe of his house shoe and said, “Look at your master.”
The hot stream in his hair, trickling down the back of his ears, curling down his throat, down his body, so careful, so precisely aimed. Down and across his phoenix, soaking the scant hair, trailing to his stomach and then spilling across the base of his cock, dripping into the rags he knelt on.
After two shakes, Tetsuo stepped back.
So urbane and fashionable in his navy blue suit, slightly wide tie, hair down as low as his shirt collar, streaked in iron and salt. He left his fly open, his cock exposed and Chris couldn’t help it. His mouth watered. But he kept it closed, blinking droplets away from his eyes, aching with tension and starting already to feel the chill.
He hadn’t even been on this top floor of the Kobe building yet, forbidden to enter it until his new owner arrived and summoned him there, ordering him to dress for business. He’d been surprised that the décor was Western; spacious, partitioned into an area for study and ease and a bedroom with a wide platform bed…and a narrow, thin futon unrolled at the foot. It was all still relatively new, smelling of pine and steel.
Tetsuo Sakai studied him from a few steps away. He drew a handkerchief out of his breast pocket. Wiped the tip of his cock. Wiped his hands. “Master Trainer Chris Parker,” he repeated, his pronunciation precise, the “a” sound drawn out with a tiny bit of a Bostonian flair. “What are you now?”
“Your slave, Master.” Breathing in to speak choked him.
“My slave.” He sank down neatly onto the balls of his feet, looking into Chris’s eyes, just out of range of the mess he knelt in. “My very, very expensive slave.” He tossed the balled up handkerchief into the nest of ruined clothing and rose with a disgusted sound and a smooth and deadly ease.
“What demons took me to make me buy you?” he demanded. “I have trainers begging to serve me. I could buy a dozen slaves, in longer contracts for what it cost to acquire you.” He shook his head and put his cock away.
Chris closed his mouth and kept completely silent, confused. What could he even say to this? The chill over his flesh grew, and he struggled to keep his arms behind him.
“You’ve wanted me since you were a…child,” Tetsuo accused. “Since you were first here, your eyes followed me like a dog. Do you think I bought you to suck my cock?”
“No, Master!” Chris said quickly.
“Then do you think I brought you here because my slaves need training I can’t give them?”
His heart thumped so loudly in his chest it felt like it was going to burst right through. “No, Master.”
“Do you believe I bought you so I could humble you?” His voice turned softer now. He cocked his head, examining Chris’s now trembling body, goose bumps broken out along flesh, his stomach jerking with every harsh breath. “To put your throat under my foot, to cover you with my come and my piss and make you beg for more, for worse, so you never remember that once you stood before The Academy, esteemed in their eyes? To make you doubt that you were ever a man of dignity? To beat you until you beg for mercy and then stop until you cry for any touch at all? To have you open yourself for me, keeping nothing, saving nothing, offering all for me to take or not as I please?”
That was when the confusion wafted away like passing smoke.
Chris shook his head slowly. “No, my Master,” he said, his first words in Japanese. God, was he blushing? Through the chill of evaporation, the trails of piss marking him, he could feel rising heat now.
“So desu ka?” Tetsuo raised his eyebrows, and let Chris see the play in his eyes. “Then tell me why.”
He licked his lips, tasting dark and musky salt and bitterness. “Not…please forgive me, please forgive my bad Japanese. You bought me…to be all the things you said.”
Tetsuo considered this with a very slight twitch of his lips. “Proud creature. All those things, yes. Clean yourself and this rubbish. Take the robe by the door and seek your brother, Abe-san. You may both attend me tonight. In a week, you shall replace him as my body servant—if I am pleased with you.” He prodded Chris’s thigh with one foot. “Do not be displeasing. I believe your skills may have improved since the first time you tried to satisfy me. Pray they have. Pray that every time I summon you, you are given a hundred chances to prove your value. How many times do you think you will need to suck my cock before you are worth what you cost?”
Chris dared a slight smile back. “A million?”
“Plus one, insolent slave. Plus one.”
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(For earlier books in the series, check out The Marketplace series page: http://www.circlet.com/?page_id=1086)