His other hand moved between her legs to stroke her most sensitive flesh. She found herself grinding against his fingers, forgetting whose arms she was in. It was impossible that Brian could touch someone so carefully. He must be the only person who could make methodical touch seem sensual. She worried he’d cross the boundaries laid out in her contract, but a part of her didn’t care as long as he didn’t hurt her. She had no illusions he’d honor the contract forever but held hope he wouldn’t lose control and start beating her or passing her around to the other men at the house.
She whimpered again as his fingers flicked over her swollen bud. He chuckled as she bucked harder against him. It was a desperate searching for life, for love, for meaning, for any bright spark in the darkness of being his. He kept up his onslaught until she came apart in his arms.
“Get in bed.”
She could barely make herself move in that direction half from the orgasm and half from fear of how he might now ruin it.
He removed his own clothing and joined her. “Let’s talk about the contract I signed.”
Here it was. How would he justify breaking it? How was he planning to wheedle around it. Perhaps now that it was clear Lindsay had no power to stop him, he’d outright flaunt it.
“The no-pain part, I understand. A lot of people don’t like pain—probably what one might consider the normal people. But explain the penetration restriction. Were you sexually abused?”
He tried to sound nonchalant, but his jaw was clenched, and his hands fisted in the sheets.
“N-no, Master. I mean… yes, Jason and others… there was abuse, but even before all that, I never really liked… I mean… I told Lindsay in our sessions that I could handle it if I had to… but…”
“Okay. Let’s define it then. More specifically.”
Why was he doing this? Was it just so he could use it to hurt her later when he got pissed off? It felt like she was giving him the tools to hurt her with. As if he needed more of those.
“Blow jobs?”
“T-that’s okay.” She hadn’t been thinking specifically in those terms when she’d told the doctor her limits. Or maybe she had. After all, hadn’t she thought she might end up with someone gross? Brian was definitely not that.
“Okay. Anal sex or anal play?”
“N-no.” She held her breath as if he’d become giddy, knowing something he could use to terrorize her.
“Okay. Fingers and toys? Inside you, I mean.”
“I-I think okay.” That was technically penetration. She hadn’t been thinking about all the options when she’d struck the deal with Lindsay. And she hadn’t believed anybody would give a shit about her limits. No one else had. It had been a way to safeguard and protect herself mentally. If she set impossible standards, when they were broken, she’d get the disappointment over with early and be able to steel herself for whatever came next.
“So no anal anything and no standard intercourse?”
She nodded.
“I can work around that.”
But why would he? Why would he care what she wanted at all? He’d paid a large sum of money for her, more than she could even visualize. She was his property, his prisoner. He was a sadist. What difference could it possibly make what she wanted?
He cupped her chin and raised her face to his. “Mina. I don’t want to hurt you. I need to keep you safe.”
Need. Not want.
“But why?”
“You know why.”
She wanted so badly to ask about his scars and to ask why he cared so much about hers when he marked others. But she didn’t. The only thing that mattered was keeping him in a frame of mind to want to continue protecting her.
Brian cradled her in his arms then guided her hand between his legs to return the favor he’d granted to her only moments before. She wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked over the smooth flesh. He was large, and it struck her what a waste it was that she couldn’t get off from regular sex.
He ran his fingertips through her hair as she stroked him.
“Harder. I won’t break.”
She gripped harder, feeling like a virgin just presented with her first piece of male anatomy. He rewarded her with a sharp hiss when he came minutes later.
“Lick it up.”
His voice reverberated through her, causing her stomach to tighten as she licked his skin clean.
“Good girl.”
Good girl. Not dumb whore or worthless slut. Good girl. He pulled her against him. Sleep came like a wave, covering them both and pulling them down into the depths of dreams.
Chapter Eight
Brian woke before Mina. She slept soundly, snuggled into him, her small hand resting on his chest. One of her legs was slung over his. Even if at no other time, in sleep, she trusted him.
Buying her had been the heat of the moment—instinct. The week leading up to taking possession of her, he’d shoved all petty details to the back of his mind. He’d been afraid to hope things would go according to plan. Until the transfer cleared the bank and the collar was made and locked around her throat and the formal ceremony was over, he couldn’t let himself trust it.
It was only now that he was able to breathe, to think, to realize what he’d acquired. He’d never intended to buy his own slave. Why would he want to? Why would he need to? He could do whatever he wanted with the women already here at the house. He didn’t want the attachment. He didn’t have the self-control not to damage anyone who was with him too long.
Protecting Mina was his highest priority, but what would happen if the dark thing inside him demanded her blood? Brian barely restrained it with others. How would he control it with someone he’d developed this obsession toward?
He heard Lindsay’s voice in his mind, chiding him, giving him psychological platitudes, analyzing him, explaining, no… concocting a just so story about why Brian was the way he was. It sounded good on paper when the doctor spun one of his yarns. But in the end it was only a narrative to hold the pieces in place. How could anyone ever truly know why Brian had turned the way he had?
Plenty of people were abused by monsters but didn’t grow into one themselves. If Brian had turned out this way without his history, what story would Lindsay have created to explain it? Would it be an organic brain deformity? Some chemical imbalance? Or would they dig and dig until they found something troubling enough in his past to blame?
Brian slipped out from under Mina’s hand and leg and rolled her onto her back. Amazingly, she slept on. This girl probably slept through hurricanes.
He pulled the sheets back and just looked at her. She was exquisite, and it angered him that someone had ever thought to lay marks across her flesh that wouldn’t fade. It was a stupid thought. If the marks weren’t there, Brian was sure he’d have put them there himself. He wouldn’t have been able to stand to watch her waltz around upstairs perfect and unmarred. Something would have driven him to it. It was pointless to be angry over the only thing that protected her from him.
He ran his fingertips lightly over her pubic bone. Her legs fell open as if on reflex, but she didn’t wake. She didn’t have a full bush, but the garden had not been maintained as he liked it. From now on, she would come to him waxed.
How would he punish her? He’d committed to the idea of not physically punishing her, but nonphysical punishments might cause her to grow too comfortable, to feel she could do whatever she wanted. He hadn’t bought her for the same reasons others might have, but now that he had her, he was beginning to want everything a master took from his slave.
He showered quickly and dressed. She was still asleep when he returned. He wondered if she were like sleeping beauty. Did she have to be wakened with a kiss? Would she otherwise continue to slumber despite what went on around her?
Brian took Mina’s hands in turn, locking them into the shackles over the bed. It might hurt in a few hours, but the angle wasn’t harsh.
She slept on.
He crossed his arms over his che
st and studied her until an idea formed. Inside the nightstand drawer were several tubes: lubricants, a cream that burned—meant for punishments—and arousal cream.
Brian took the arousal cream and popped the seal. If this didn’t wake her, nothing would.
He carefully opened the chest in the far corner and retrieved a spreader bar. He locked one end around each ankle. When he was satisfied she couldn’t escape, he rubbed arousal cream into her clit, lingering more than was necessary, his fingers caressing the delicate folds of skin until at least that part of her awakened to his touch.
Brian pulled himself away before the rest of her could follow. But he wasn’t abandoning her. He wanted to be an unseen voyeur.
The conference room on the main floor was rarely in use during the day. It had an intercom on a far wall that was more private than most of the others.
When he reached the intercom, he pressed the touch pad to gain access to his room downstairs. While any authorized person could put in a general code and use the call box to talk to people at other parts of the house, it took a more specific code to be able to listen. Brian had the only code to his room, and he’d never used it. Why would he? Unlike most of the other partners and trainers, he never kept anyone in his room.
He punched in his code. The scanner not only took in the numbers and letters he typed, but scanned his fingerprint to ensure it was him. The others hadn’t taken advantage of the biometric security, but privacy was vital. If they hadn’t allowed for it, Brian would have vetoed an intercom in his room at all. He was too afraid someone might find his code and listen and overhear him in the middle of a nightmare.
The corners of his lips turned up as he listened to his struggling captive. Brian input another code to bring up the accompanying video feed. She thrashed on the bed, desperately seeking anything to make contact between her legs. Her pathetic mewling already made him hard. He ignored the part of his mind that warned this could be bad. He might be already unlocking a door with her that he didn’t want to take her through.
He pushed the button to speak. “Mina.”
Her head jerked in the direction of the call box.
“You are quite a sound sleeper. If you didn’t sleep so deeply, perhaps you wouldn’t be in the predicament you find yourself in now. I have some things to attend to, but I’ll come downstairs to relieve you of your discomfort soon. Can you feel the metal tab attached to the shackle around your wrist?”
It reached the center of her palm and had a button. He was surprised she hadn’t pressed it yet. No doubt she feared it would create an even worse outcome for her.
“Y-yes, Master.”
“That’s a distress button. If you push it I will come to you. But if you push it, you had better be on fire. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, Master.”
He wondered if she’d have the strength not to push it. The effects of the cream would wear off within the hour, but he planned to be back before then to hear her beg. He disconnected and went to get breakfast.
Lindsay was in the cafeteria. “Where’s Mina?”
Brian glanced at his watch. “It’s nine in the morning. Shouldn’t you be in the city with a patient?”
“Nine o’clock Monday morning was Mina’s slot. And my ten-thirty canceled. I don’t have to be in the city until after lunch.”
“How nice for you.” Brian got in the breakfast line. The girls scrunched together to stay out of his way. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t love how they cowered from him.
Lindsay wouldn’t be so easily deterred. “Brian, where is she?”
“Stay out of our affairs, or I will consider you a liability.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I don’t threaten. Before you trained me to be a weapon inside and outside the house, you should have paused to consider all the ways that could go wrong.”
Had Lindsay believed Brian was an attack dog on a leash? That he would always obey his masters in gratitude for having a home and meals? As if Brian couldn’t survive just fine on his own. They needed him, not the other way around.
Before Lindsay could bluster and protest, Brian took a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number inside the house. The girl on the other end answered on the third ring.
“Shannon? I’m sending a girl up to you for waxing. You know how I like them.”
“B-Brian. I-I mean S-sir,” she stammered. He hadn’t had cause to speak to Shannon directly in a while. And he knew she avoided encountering him.
“Don’t worry. My business with you is done. You aren’t on my radar anymore.” He heard the stifled crying on the other end of the line and smirked. “What time can you see my girl?”
“E-eleven-thirty.”
“Good. Make a standing appointment, and let her know the waxing schedule when she arrives. I get so irritated if my specifications aren’t met, you know. I don’t want to be put in a position to be irritated.”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
He disconnected the call and took the tray from the woman behind the counter. “Thanks, Phyllis.” He turned to find Lindsay in his path. “Are you still here?”
“Brian, I sold her to you because you promised…”
“Right. And trusting the promises of a sociopath is a brilliant way to run your life, isn’t it?” It had been a long time since Brian had been in the position to cause the doctor visible distress. He relished it.
“Brian, please. Don’t hurt her. Remember, she’s like you.”
Brian had no intention of harming Mina; he simply enjoyed upsetting Lindsay. It was rare to be able to make him afraid. Why shouldn’t Brian take every opportunity to goad the bastard? Especially when he knew any threat the doctor could devise would be hollow at best.
“Don’t tell me who she is!” Brian snarled. “Get the fuck away from me!”
Lindsay backed off, then left the cafeteria. He didn’t move as fast as others nearby had, but at least he went away.
***
Mina squeezed her eyes tight and breathed, as if breathing would make it go away. She’d woken to a sharp tingling between her legs. At first she’d thought Brian was touching her, but she quickly realized that wasn’t the case. She squirmed and twisted, trying to find a way to satisfy the intense arousal. It went beyond an urge. It went beyond need.
She’d been so distracted she hadn’t noticed the button nestled in her palm—not until Brian came on the intercom and explained it to her.
Last night she’d started to feel what? Attracted to him? She wasn’t sure. He’d been so… kind. The attraction hadn’t diminished this morning. But what he was doing now… it wasn’t that it was terribly wrong, but there was a sadism in it. What if he pushed and pushed and over time hurt her?
As foolish as it was, she was beginning to believe he didn’t want to hurt her, but if he was playing mildly sadistic games on day two… what would happen on month two or year two?
The door opened and Brian stepped in with a tray. He placed it on a side table. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything hot this morning. Just a pastry and fruit. I didn’t want to get you something that wouldn’t taste right cold.”
“Please…” She struggled against the chains.
He sat beside her and began stroking her hair and the side of her face. The gesture would be sweet and appreciated if there weren’t other places she needed to be stroked. And Brian knew it. He didn’t know how to be anything other than a sadist.
He unlocked her hands, but left her feet in the spreader bar. She hadn’t noticed the pain in her arms. She’d been too focused on the one thing she needed to happen to make the world right again.
But now that her hands were released, she didn’t dare make a move, no matter how much the aroused flesh between her legs demanded to be touched.
“I’m impressed. You certainly don’t lack training, despite what the good doctor implied. That pleases me very much.”
A blush crept up her neck. It was a horrible moment to have an a
ttack of shyness. She wanted to cover herself and was thankful for the patch of hair that covered her like a fig leaf from a piece of biblical art. One less layer of exposure to cope with.
He sat beside her. “Do your arms hurt?”
“Yes, Master.”
He took one arm and then the other and massaged the soreness out of them. He was almost as good as Anton—which was unexpected, since Anton was a professional, and Brian’s only known skill set was causing pain.
She desperately needed to come, and instead he was massaging the soreness out of her arms. He arranged her hands as if she were a life-sized doll, placing them on either side of her mound, mere centimeters from the aching need.
“You’d better not so much as twitch toward touching yourself.”
It took every ounce of concentration and willpower not to flick her thumb over her clit, but Brian’s hard stare and the anxiety that look created within her, helped her manage the needed self-control.
“Still impressed,” he said.
He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder as if he were a fireman rescuing her from a burning building. Mina tensed as he carried her from the room. She was too afraid to ask where he was taking her. Surely not upstairs. All she could think about was Jason passing her around. Would Brian do that? Why wouldn’t he? She hadn’t even thought to list no sharing on her limits—which was insane, given how much it upset her when Jason had done it.
Brian pushed one of the dungeon cell doors open and carried her in.
“N-no, please. Please. You promised. Please don’t hurt me, Master.”
“Shhhh. I’m not hurting you.”
But what he did next didn’t reinforce hope. Brian draped her over a spanking horse, so that her legs straddled it. They were still trapped immobile by the spreader bar he had yet to unlock. Even if he didn’t bind her in any other way, she couldn’t run or crawl away.
She whimpered, and the tears she’d fought to hold back came spilling forth. His hand was gentle on her back as he caressed her skin.
“Do you still want to come?”