“Oh God, you’re good at that,” I moan. His hands are warm and firm, and they know just the right spots to press. “Are you good at everything?” I grumble. I’ve yet to find something that James sucks at. It’s beginning to make me feel inadequate. So far he can kill, fight, cook, massage, and fuck better than me. It’s annoying.
“I’ve never been very good at knitting,” James offers. I shake my head and roll my eyes at the arrogant ass. All conversation stops after that as he kneads my ass and applies cooling cream. It feels so good I can’t talk for the next five minutes. All I have to do is lay there and relax into those beautifully talented hands. The massage doesn’t come without repercussions, of course. My pussy is crying all over the bed because no one has shown it any proper attention today, and it isn’t long before James’s fingers begin to arouse me. He’s not doing it on purpose, but any skin on skin contact from that man will eventually drive me crazy.
“James,” I whine miserably. “God, James. I am so aroused. If you’re not going to get me where I need to go, you need to stop. Now.” Rolling over, I gaze at him through tired, exhausted eyes, and will him to take pity on me. I know he won’t, but a girl can dream.
He looks down at me and shakes his head apologetically. “I’m not allowed to, today. It was on the instructions card this morning, and I can guarantee you they have cameras in this room.”
“Yay. These bastards are as sick and twisted as you are.” Clamping my legs together, I have the insane urge to rub myself silly. I am so tired, I barely know what I’m doing as my hands go between my legs.
“Uh, uh, uh. That’s not allowed, either. Don’t make me punish you.”
He spoons around me and tucks me under the coverlet, wrapping his arms around me while taking hold of my wrists.
“Oh God, this place is hell,” I whisper, but my eyes are already closing. James’s body heat is surrounding me now, and the warmth I’m cocooned in feels so good.
“It’s not,” James mumbles against my ear, holding my body even tighter to his chest. “Hell’s waiting for us in two days’ time.”
He’s got a point.
When I wake up, it’s to find someone has posted a little present for us under our door. It’s another dark black envelope, with the signature Fleur-de-Lys pattern emblazoned upon it. I don’t want to look. I’m pretty certain it’s not going to bring good news.
Stretching out, I find I can’t move my hands apart and wonder what’s happened for a second. Then I notice that James is not beside me. Where has he gone? It doesn’t take me long to find out that James has fastened my wrists together with a bright-red, silk scarf. I test my feet for similar restrictions, but there are none. What is this about?
“James, Sir?” I call loudly, wondering if he’s even in the room with me. There is no answer. I’m on my own. Anxiety claws through me. Has someone gotten to him? Was someone in this room with us? Are they coming back for me? My teeth immediately tackle the knot around my wrists, but it is tied too tightly to wrench free. With my pulse rate skittering, I swing my legs over the bed and almost stand up before the door opens.
“Lois?” I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear James’s voice.
“Dammit. You had me worried, Sir.” My breath whistles through my teeth.
“Sorry, I was up an hour ago and just thought I’d see if I could track down Il Boia. No luck, though.” Walking up to me, with the envelope in his hand, he frowns.
“You know what his name means, right?” I ask. My Italian is shaky, but I’ve heard that term before.
“Yes. ‘The Executioner.’ It must do wonders for his street cred, and no, I don’t know why he’s called that, but I could have a fairly good guess.” James runs a hand through his hair and sits on the edge of the bed.
“Why did you tie my hands up?” I place them in front of my chest and raise my eyebrow.
“So, you didn’t play with yourself while I was gone. I’ve seen subs do it in their sleep and I’m not taking any chances.” Ever the thoughtful Dom, James.
“Can you untie me now?” I hate being restrained. If my arms and legs are out of action, my chances of being able to kill someone dwindle rapidly. He obliges me. As soon as my hands are released, I feel much better. “Thank you, Sir,” I whisper.
The envelope now sits between us like a pulled grenade, and I’m pretty sure neither of us want to touch it. In the end, I speak first.
“Just open it.” We might as well get this over with.
Tearing open the flap, James pulls the card out and flicks over the contents. He visibly pales, and there is the merest tremor in his right hand. Something is bothering him. When he stays quiet for far too long and doesn’t look at me, I know something is wrong.
“What? Just tell me already,” I say.
James swallows and closes his eyes. “We’ve got to sleep together,” he says, putting his head in his hands.
Chapter Sixteen - James
I can hardly believe what I’m reading. Tonight’s challenge is ‘Night-Time Fun’ and dominants have been drawn out of a hat at random to sleep with the list of submissives. Somehow, through some awful twist of fate, I have received Lois’s name. I’m the only dominant to receive his own submissive in this challenge and I feel anger erupt in my gut. This has to be Alain’s doing. What are the chances of that? If I do this, I use up our freebie, which means one more fuck up and we’re dead. It’s too early to use this card. Panic flows through me in suffocating waves.
“Explain.” Lois is taking this better than me. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed looking calm and alert. At least she’s not going to pieces just yet.
“They’ve put everyone’s names in a hat and drawn out one dominant for each submissive. By some miracle, they’ve drawn ours together. No other dominant has been given his own submissive. I get to edge you all evening. You’re not allowed to come. The pair who last the longest, wins. We must sleep together, though. Basically, they just want to twist everyone up with jealousy - except us, of course.”
“Can you speak to someone and change it?” Lois is giving me practical advice. I should be coming up with this shit. Get your head together.
“I doubt it, but I can try.” Usually these games are set in stone. If one person wants to change, another will want to change, and it turns into a mess. You have to take what cards you are dealt.
“Could you possibly swap with someone? Is that allowed?” It’s another possibility, but again unlikely. I suspect these pairings aren’t mere chance. Greater forces are at bay. “Go downstairs and try to talk to someone. We won’t know unless we give it a go. It has to be worth a shot.”
It is, but I’m not optimistic.
Twenty minutes later, and it’s all doom and gloom in my world. Under no circumstances can any pairing change, and if the task isn’t fulfilled to the letter, we will be expelled from the competition. As we haven’t found the coke yet, we’re damned if we do, and damned if we don’t. We could still run, but we’ll be condemning Adie to death – if Alain can be believed.
When I return to Lois, she is kneeling on the floor with her arms behind her back, waiting for me patiently. I want to throw up. How can something so beautiful be so fucking poisonous to me? The woman is perfection in every sense of the word, and I can’t touch her. I’ve got the shakes just thinking about it.
“Good news or bad news, Sir?” she asks quietly.
“Bad,” I whisper. I don’t know what else to say. My legs take a precarious wobble underneath me, and I have to sit down on the bed. Lois, on the other hand, is elegance personified. Under pressure, this woman is a force to be reckoned with.
“If we can’t get out of it, we need to move past it. This means we need to find ‘Il Boia’ as soon as possible and lure him out. The sooner we get out of this place, the better. For now, we use up our freebie, and we try to enjoy it. This is one more than I thought we’d get. This time you get to turn the tables on me. Revenge is sweet, I hear.” She’s trying to cheer me up, bu
t there’s no chance of that happening.
“Lois, how can you be so fucking calm? Your life is hanging in the balance. We should get out of here now. We should run.”
She shakes her head. “Neither of us is running. I can’t live with the guilt of Adie dying on my hands, and I don’t think you are any different. Correct me if I’m wrong?”
When I respond, my voice is rough. “Adie’s been up against it for years. I can’t live with the thought of you dying. Even if you are a fucking traitor.”
“Then I promise not to die. Happy now?” Lois says. My face darkens at that wonderful bit of sarcasm.
“You do know you’ll have to sleep with him? Alain Dumortier wants to tear you to bits, woman. You can’t go back there.” While I don’t yet understand Lois’s game, I wonder if she’s taken into account the repercussions of her actions.
“I seem to sleep with anyone these days,” she says blithely.
“That’s not even funny. Do you have any idea what sleeping with Dumortier will entail?” I know she doesn’t. While she’s seen him in action around the compound, she has no idea what that man is like in bed. At least Adie’s women are able to breathe come morning.
“Kinky stuff which will be dark as hell.” That’s about the sum of it, but she still doesn’t understand.
“He doesn’t value the importance of human life, Lois. He doesn’t care whether you live or die. He won’t stop once he’s started, and his end goal is to make me suffer. He’s planning to kill you, while I watch from the sidelines.” I’m trying to talk some sense into her, but she looks completely unfazed by my words. What is going on in that head of hers?
“I was always going to die. What did you call this assignment when you first met me? A suicide mission? There we are. That’s what I signed up for. At least I get to go out with a bang.” Lois shrugs her shoulders, as if her death means nothing. It enrages me.
“I don’t understand. You’re working for Alain, you’re happy to fuck him, and you’re more than happy to die if he asks you to? I can’t figure this out, Lois. Help me here. Something doesn’t add up.” Actually, that’s not entirely correct. I think I’ve got it all figured out, and if I’m correct, I’m going to be pissed.
Lois has the cheek to yawn. She stretches her beautiful neck, opens her mouth in a wide ‘O,’ and fucking yawns, as if this is all spectacularly unimportant to her. Every dominant gene I possess roars to the surface, and suddenly I want to inflict some serious pain upon her.
“When do we start the challenge?” she enquires, and I swear by the look in her eye she’s almost looking forward to this. I have no idea why. She doesn’t get to come. I mentioned that earlier. Perhaps she missed that bit.
“It starts at seven pm.” My tone is clipped. I don’t want to talk to her. The woman is ten kinds of crazy I can’t deal with right now.
“How long have we got?” Fuck. Her voice has dipped into something seductive and low, and this is the last straw. I need to redress the balance of power in this room.
“How long have we got, Sir?” I remind her very quietly, and there’s a distinct edge to that sentence. I know she won’t miss it. “You’ve been forgetting how to address your dominant, haven’t you, pet?” She’s done it lots of times while we’ve been in the room together, which I wouldn’t normally mind, but normally I am not pissed off.
Lois’s eyes dart across the floor. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispers. Sorry isn’t going to cut it, and she knows it.
“Adie isn’t the only one that can inflict pain, Lois. I’m beginning to get the feeling that you think I’m a soft touch. Is that right, pet?” Unbuckling my belt slowly, I place it on the desk behind me and I blink slowly. I’m going to give her one last chance to come clean, and if she won’t I’m going to rip into her body this evening, until she has no choice but to tell me what I want to know. Although Adie is most definitely the sadist in our little threesome, I can dish out some pretty nasty shit with the right provocation. If she wants to test me this evening, she’s about to find out just what I’m capable of. Fuck being Mr Nice Guy. It’s getting me nowhere.
“No, Sir.” She answers me as I grab a hold of her hair and yank her head up hard. The gasp that leaves her lips is a beautiful sound. When my fingers find the pulse in her neck, it’s to find out that there’s some pretty impressive percussion going on in her chest. I’m either scaring or exciting her. It’s time to find out which.
Letting her hair loose, so her head snaps back sharply, I bark, “Ready position.” Then I walk over to the minibar and grab a bottle of water. It’s not for me. When I return to my prostrate slave, I admire the way her ass is now thrust up in the air with both of her hands spreading her ass cheeks apart. Her legs are wide open, showing me her wet, glistening cunt. Tonight, I can fuck her wherever I like, and I intend to fuck her everywhere. It’s no more than she deserves after what she did to me, and I haven’t lied to her.
Running a finger down the line between her buttocks, I circle her asshole and then dip my finger into her cunt. Another breathy little moan greets me. She’s hungry for the monster I’m about to become. That much is abundantly clear. I’m not sure I will ever understand women, but perhaps that’s for the best.
Walking slowly around to the front of her body, I note that her mouth is thrust open wide, while her tongue pokes out obediently. Waiting for me. Ready to suck my cock. My insides twist in terror, but everything else is drowning in lust.
“Last chance to come clean, Lois. If you chose to maintain your silence, I am going whip and fuck you until I make you bleed.” I say the words a little louder than necessary and she jumps. “Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m going to tie you up, edge you relentlessly, and work your body over until you are screaming in pain. I will not stop until you give me what I want. You won’t get that elusive orgasm, either. Denial can be just as torturous as the overdose you had the other day. I don’t think you’ll handle it well. So, what’s it going to be, Lois? Are you going to talk?”
I watch her closely after my question lands. Her body stiffens, and that’s all the answer I need. I don’t have to see her head shaking softly from side to side, to confirm it.
“Sit up.” My command is pointless because I have a finger looped underneath her collar which is dragging her into the position I want. She chokes a little and her eyes go wide. I thrust the bottle of water at her. “Drink. Every single last drop.”
Lois doesn’t make the mistake of trying to talk to me, nor does she question my command. Bringing her arm around to take the bottle gently out of my hand, she then carefully twists the top off and tips it up towards her lips. She then slowly downs it until it’s empty. Lois has now got five hundred millilitres of water in her stomach, and while that won’t make much of a difference yet, it will do in half an hour. By that time the water will have reached her bladder, and it will start putting some pressure on her sensitive parts.
“Here’s the deal, Lois. If I make you orgasm this evening, you tell me your secrets.” This isn’t a question. It’s a statement. I’ve had years of practise making the girls in Alain’s basement do every damn thing I tell them to. I can be a bloody evil bastard when I want to, and tonight, Lois is going to discover the side of me I usually keep hidden. I will systematically break down both her body and mind, until she is a sobbing mess, screaming and writhing in agony. I am more than capable of it. If it’s going to get me what I want - it will be worth it.
She shakes her head, and I smile. A cold smile that’s been forged in ice. “Oh, you will. You don’t stand a fucking chance,” I whisper in her ear, as I take hold of her hair once more and yank it backwards. “You’ve already lost this game.”
Standing up, I begin forming a plan of action. It’s been years since I’ve broken a submissive, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to do it. I remember all too well. Faces streaked with mascara, and tears begging me for mercy as the whip comes down now appear in my vision. I remember limbs shaking and wo
bbling, knees giving way, and arms hanging limp. Some even wet themselves with fear. That’s how much of a bastard I can be. I didn’t mess around like Adie. I didn’t enjoy it like he did, so I got it over with as quickly as possible. Tonight, however, I’m going to have fun. Lois isn’t an innocent, and she’s hiding things from me. I need to know what those things are.
Beside the bed, I have a black leather bag that is full of tricks. It’s not mine. It was delivered up to the room yesterday. Getting certain sex toys through customs can sometimes be tricky, so these kinds of events usually provide them – for a fee. Unzipping it, I search for what I’m looking for and lay them out on the bed. If I want to, I can spend the whole evening with Lois tied to the bed, but I’m not going to. We need to attract some attention, and the best way to do that will be to get my little pet downstairs. They have some interesting contraptions down there, none of which she’s seen yet. I don’t kid myself that breaking Lois will be easy. She’s dealt with Adie’s knives, which means she’s already the strongest woman I know, and she’s also an efficient killer. I need to know where the line is. There are still so many secrets between us, and if we’re going to work together, I need to know the truth.
Pacing up and down, I finally squat in front of her and prop her face up with my finger under her chin.
“Permission to…”
“Denied.” I don’t want to hear her excuses. I’ll know when she’s ready to tell me everything, and it isn’t yet. “Open wide, Lois.” I hold up an ‘O-ring’ gag, which will not only keep her quiet, but it will also keep her lips spread open wide for my cock. I’m gagging her because I want her to feel vulnerable, and I know she doesn’t like them. When I hear her breath hitch, I can tell she wants to argue with me, but she then bites her lower lip as if to remind herself who’s in charge. Yeah, that’s right, baby. It’s me. Her jaws open slowly.
I have no time for her reluctance. Shoving the O-ring in sideways, I then flip it back upright and fasten the straps behind her head. Reaching towards the bed, I grab a set of black leather ankle cuffs, and attach them swiftly. She now has about two inches of movement between her feet. It won’t be enough to walk. She might manage a shuffle, but that will be all. I then fasten her wrists together, behind her back, and using a bulldog clamp, I then clip them to her ankles. Her face is now at a forty-five-degree angle, with her throat perfectly positioned for fucking. She’s not going to be very comfortable for a while, but I don’t give a toss. That’s her problem. At least I know she’s not going anywhere.
Embers: A Dark Romance Love Triangle (A Special Agent Novel Book 5) Page 16