Angela Lansbury's classic vocals sounded from the tv, the familiarity of the Disney movie and lyrics washing over me. Perhaps it was lame that a grown man's favourite movie was the same as when he was a child. But Beauty and the Beast was the first movie I had ever been able to watch in a movie theatre.

Every weekend when I was a kid, the library downtown would show a movie. All that was required to attend was a library card. Unfortunately, I didn't have a library card, but one of my childhood friends had let me go with him. So even though that movie had been out for twelve years before I saw it, it was my 'feel good' movie, because it held a special memory for me.

A knock on the door interrupted Belle and the Beast's swirling progression across the ballroom floor. Reaching across my bed, I paused the movie. Expecting a maid with a tray laden with my supper, I was a little confused when the door creaked partly open, a servant's head peeking through.

"Mr. Barns?" He timidly asked.

"Yes?" I'd never been addressed here as 'Mr. Barns'. And where was my food?

The servant was clearly nervous, as he shifted in place. "Mr. Stone requests your presence in the dining room at 7:30 pm for dinner." And almost as an afterthought he added before leaving, "Formal dress is required."

The door shut firmly behind him. But the same as this morning, the lock remained undone. I gazed longingly at my movie. But the flashing numbers on the new alarm clock by the bed told me I had thirty minutes until I needed to be in the dining room. And considering I hadn't ever been to the dining room, it might take me a while to get there.

Swapping my lounge clothes for the dress shirt and slacks Maddox had bought me the other day, I used a dollop of gel to smooth my unruly waves of hair into a semblance of submission. Taking a quick breath to sooth my wayward nerves, I smoothed my shirt.

This felt like a bad idea. I had no idea what Maddox was thinking with us dining together. But a part of me was vibrating with excitement.

••••••••••••••••

7:29. My foot tapped an impatient rhythm under the table. The empty seat across the table sat glaring at me. Irritation welled within me, but I didn't want to acknowledge what the irritation was a cover for.

Sitting at a table designed to comfortably seat twelve, alone, night after night, became, well, lonesome. My brain had come to crave Austin's company, as much as my body craved his.

7:30. I was ready to go and drag Austin by his hair, when the large double doors burst open, and a panting Austin rushed through.

Placing his hands on his knees, Austin gulped in lungfuls of air, making it very clear he had run most, if not all, the way here from his room. I snorted with amusement. He made quite the sight. His hair had clearly started as neatly coiffed, but now strands stuck in random directions. I assumed he had run his hands through it at one point, most likely in frustration.

Regaining his full height, those chocolate eyes locked with mine. A searing line of heat travelled from that connection to pool in my groin. I bit back a groan. Instead, I waved to the servants hovering on the edge of the room to start bringing out the food.

It was very comical to watch Austin scramble for his chair, our moment of heat seeming to have addled his brain. I internally grinned over that.

I wanted to moan, the food was so good. The stuff the maid has brought me over the two weeks has been good, but this.....This was next level. Maddox Stone ate like a king, it seemed. The dining room was sure fit for one.

Like most places I had seen in the mansion, the room was sparse, but still luxurious. A few circular chandeliers kept the light at a low tone, reminiscent of candle light. The large painting on the wall facing the door looked over the occupants of the room. The man in said painting had harsh frown lines, thin lips, and eyes like a prospering forest. He sat reclined in a plush chair, a glass of brandy held in his hand.

Familiar eyes. If I had to take a guess, I'd say this was Maddox's dad. But what was unmistakable was the emptiness in the portraits eyes. And it wasn't because it was made of paint.

I could sense, more than see, when Maddox noticed me staring at the portrait. He tensed up, his spine straightened to the point I was worried it would snap.

The office background looked familiar, yet so different. Somehow, in this painting, it looked dark and gloomy. A place of mourning. But when I had been in those walls, although not to happy about my situation, the room had somehow seemed more light.

The only sound in the large room was the bustle of staff, along with the scraping of utensils. The level of restraint, politeness Maddox exuded while eating made me feel like a savage beast. I wolfed down my plate. Honestly, it was a miracle I hadn't licked it clean when I was done. But I was pretty sure that would be frowned upon.

Maddox wiped his lips with the cloth napkin, placing it on the table. I'm not going to lie, watching Maddox eat may have been one of the most stimulating things I'd done.

After he'd taken a bite of a strawberry from the salad....my cock hardened just recalling it. His lips had been a tantalizing red, and I had to stop myself from drooling when a little bit of sweet liquid trickled out of his mouth.

I shifted unconsciously. My cock stiff, my skin flushed. I must have made quite a sight.

The magnetism of Maddox's gaze drew my head in his direction, and my tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth. Slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, Maddox crossed the room to my seat. A sense of anticipation kept me glued in place, the sizzling heat of promise in his eyes caused my shaft to harden to the point of pain.

Taking my chin between his thumb and pointer finger, he stared. My breathing was ragged, yet he seemed almost unaffected by the tension in the air. Except for the prominent bulge in his pants. My mouth watered just remembering that fat cock fucking my mouth.

I needed him, God I needed him so bad. I hated myself for it. I'd probably regret it in the morning, but right now, I didn't care. I clenched my ass. Licking my lips, Maddox's gaze traced the glistening trail.

A hand trailed over my hair, gripping the strands in a familiar painful, but pleasurable grip. I hungrily eyed the bulge. But I felt disappointment swell as Maddox used his grip to pull me up, not push me down. Taking me from the treat I so desired in the moment.

Ok, not just in the moment. A few dreams had left me with quite the impressive morning wood. And Maddox Stone had been the star of each and every one.

A new sense of excitement filled me, however, when Stone pushed me chest down on the cleared table. The buttons on my shirt scraped across its surface. A twinkling of worry popped inside my head about scratching the pristine wood. But a muscled thigh spread my legs, while the cold leather of Maddox's glove rubbed against my skin as it held my wrists tight behind my back. And all thought other than how badly I needed this man, dissipated.

Leaning down to whisper in my ear, his stubble scratched against the sensitive skin behind my ear. My body broke out in goosebumps when he said, "What do you say about some dessert?"