“Sit on your cushion right here beside me and wait for me silently by the fire, kiska, or stay there in bed. Your master has important business. If you’re in need of comfort, you can play with your catnip. I left it out for you beside your cushion.”
Absinthe didn’t turn his head directly toward her, as if she was a real kitten and not a human being at all. “If that is not enough, I give you permission to use my cock.” His hand dropped idly to the ever-present bulge between his legs and stroked just once. He was wearing his silk drawstring pants and nothing else.
For some reason, giving her options and not even looking at her or making her feel like a human made it easier to stay curled naked, her tail protruding, listening to the men once again speaking in low tones in Russian. She knew that the pets she’d read about often used their master’s cocks for comfort in times of stress. He offered not for himself, but for her.
Night had fallen, although it wasn’t that late. The sun hadn’t been down very long because outside the glass wall the sky was more a darker gray than black. She yawned and stretched, needing to work the kinks out of her stiff body. Her fingers brushed a gun. She turned her head to look at the weapon lying beside her. It hadn’t been there before. Why had Absinthe put it there? She realized that no blankets covered her, and her naked body was completely exposed to the men in the room.
She hadn’t been dreaming. Absinthe had woken her and asked if they should come into the room with her or take the meeting away from her. She’d told him she wanted him to stay. He had stayed, but he’d given her a weapon. She had no idea how long they’d been there, but Absinthe had made certain no one had touched her. She would have woken instantly had they tried. That was why he had given her a weapon, so if his word wasn’t good enough, she would feel she could protect herself. She loved him all the more for asking her permission and then giving her a weapon just to reassure her that she was safe.
She let herself breathe again, realizing that she’d gone from holding her breath to ragged breathing to slowing her breathing deliberately to normal again. No one seemed to be paying the least bit of attention to her, so to test that theory, she moved to her knees. With a tail, there was no sitting. No one turned around, but Absinthe’s gaze flicked to her, and for a moment, she felt approval in his gaze and that warmed her. She had no idea how he could do that. She looked down at her body, and her nipples had peaked just at the thought that she’d pleased him by kneeling up on the bed. She stayed that way for a few minutes while their conversation continued. She could tell whatever they were talking about was important. No one looked her way and her heart settled down even more.
If she wanted to go to the bathroom—and it was becoming imperative she go—she would have to crawl on her hands and knees across the room to the bathroom door, which was thankfully open. She eyed the distance and then looked at Absinthe a little desperately. He hadn’t given her permission. She wasn’t certain what to do. The YouTube videos hadn’t covered that kind of mundane, not-so-sexy task.
“Excuse me for a moment,” Absinthe said and reached down to pick up her leash. He stood up in that easy way he had, all power and grace, looking dangerous and sexy as hell. He came right toward her without hesitation, the leash running through his hands.
Immediately her heart began to race all over again, her gaze shifting toward the men sitting in those chairs.
“Eyes on me,” he commanded, his voice a low whip of velvet, impossible to resist.
Her gaze jumped to his. He snapped the leash to one of the golden rings and turned and began to walk toward the bathroom, so she had no choice but to slide off the bed after him. She didn’t know if the others watched as he led her across the room. She crawled automatically, her tail waving sensuously, her hips feeling slinky and provocative, her hands and knees positioning themselves like she’d practiced over and over for him.
Once in the bathroom, he reached out and closed the door behind her. She hadn’t even considered how she would remove the tail or reinsert it after.
“I’ll show you how and you can practice,” he said, clearly reading her mind. “But that will come much later. You’re doing fine.”
She could see he wasn’t leaving the room, but he did go to the sink and rinse her plug while she did her business.
“You can crawl to the bed or be led to your cushion. This meeting is extremely important but we’re almost finished. There has been a change in plans for tomorrow, so I couldn’t get out of it and I didn’t want you to wake alone and frightened. I also wanted you to realize you can trust me and the others, but I know this is a huge leap of faith for you and way too soon, kiska.”
Again, there was a ring of truth in his voice and he took his time, not hurrying her or telling her the others were waiting. He didn’t seem to care that they waited for him. Once she was ready, on her hands and knees in front of him, Absinthe pressed the flat of his hand between her shoulder blades to push her down to her elbows, leaving her bottom high for him. He was careful, taking his time to prepare her for her tail before inserting it.
Scarlet’s breathing went ragged. She began trembling. It felt like a momentous decision. The gun was on the bed. If she went with him to the cushion, she would be kneeling stark naked as a pussycat, his plaything, in front of his friends. Would that be an invitation to join in?
Absinthe’s hand dropped to her head and began to stroke caresses down her hair and back, and then over the cheeks of her buttocks. “You are my beloved wife. My very cherished kiska. I do not ever share. I don’t let others touch or play. I take care of you always and I take pride in you. Do I like to display you because I find you beautiful, both as my wife and as my kiska? Yes, but it is not necessary. It will never be necessary. Do I want you to reach a point where you trust me that much? Yes, but again, I expect that will take time. This meeting is necessary and unexpected. You can curl up on the bed and go back to sleep. If you prefer, now that you know where I am, I can take them into the other room.”
Again, Absinthe didn’t hurry her, allowing her to think it over.
She took a breath and leapt off the proverbial cliff. She nudged the leash in his hand. His eyes went that strange opaque that could turn her inside out.
“Be certain, my beautiful little pussycat. Once there, I will expect you to remain on your cushion without fidgeting or interrupting the meeting. If you do, you will be expected to use your catnip or my cock. As it is, just thinking of you doing this for me, trusting me this soon, makes me so fucking hard, I don’t know if I can possibly concentrate on the details my brothers are giving to me.”
That made her sex contract and begin to pulse. At once she grew damp and needy. She almost wished she had the hot inflammatory oil that demon Preacher had devised coating the plug in her bottom and maybe painted on her lips and clit. She nodded her head and purred, rubbing her body against his leg, deliberately rubbing her cheek against the hard bulge between his legs.
He snapped on the leash. “You are the naughtiest kiska, and at the same time, the sexiest. I can barely resist you. I have to keep reminding myself you haven’t been trained properly.” He opened the door and led her out.
Scarlet concentrated on a sensuous feline crawl, letting her body do the work, keeping the image of a cat in her mind, the way it moved across the floor, enticing male cats to come close, showing off her attributes to Absinthe as best she could. Her breasts. Round, firm, high, hard nice-sized nipples he could clamp and have fun with. They swayed with every movement of her body. Her hips were generous, her cheeks rounded firm globes, smooth, and she knew he was particularly fond of that part of her anatomy. Even now, as he walked her to her cushion, he stroked her cheeks.
Her tail was beautiful. The fur was gorgeous. The gems, both diamonds and rubies, caught in the firelight and threw a blazing light on the walls. She hadn’t expected that, and as soon as it happened, she heard shifting in the chairs. Her heart accelerated and she faltered. What had she been thinking? She glanced toward the
door leading to the hall. To the bed where the gun was. To the chairs were the two men had turned to look at her tail and the glittering diamonds and rubies.
“Eyes on me.” Absinthe’s voice was low, a caress sweeping over her.
The pressure was slight on her collar and she went with him to her cushion and knelt up onto it, facing away from the men, toward him. Her profile was toward them. They could see her bushy, gem-filled tail, now really set ablaze by the flames. Suddenly, she became the kitten in her mind, safe, far away from everyone but Absinthe. She didn’t look at either of them. She was his and only his.
It was strange to feel safe in the persona of a cat, especially when a gun was only a few feet away and having guns and knives had always made her feel safe these past few years. She was proficient with weapons and had become very skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Still, she doubted if she was anywhere near the expertise of those in the room with Absinthe, judging by the way Adrik had been so cautious with them. Still, deep within the cat’s body, she felt very safe.
She found she liked assuming the persona of a cat for Absinthe. She would never, not in a million years, do so for anyone else, but she loved the feeling of belonging to him. She had plenty of time to analyze her feelings as she knelt beside him. She was comfortable, the fire warm on her skin. Being a kitten was a role for her, not something she needed to be. She enjoyed playing the role, but mostly she just liked being whatever Absinthe wanted from her—and the sex was spectacular.
She knew she could take the kitten thing or leave it. What was most important to her, what made her happiest, was that Absinthe was dominant in the bedroom, leaving her to follow his lead. That was what made her hot. Slinking around as a hot little sex kitten was fun, and she loved being what he wanted, but it was all for him. She loved providing for him. She needed to provide what she knew he needed. She stayed very still, wanting to be the perfect kitten for him, hoping that was what he would want.
As time went by she became aware, as she tuned herself more and more to him, that although on the outside Absinthe seemed absolutely calm, something was wrong. The two men were talking to him, but he no longer seemed to be listening. There was a fine sheen of sweat building on his body. She could see little beads of sweat on his forehead. One trickled down the side of his face. He made no move to stop it. That was so unlike Absinthe.
Steele rose, murmured his good-bye, but Absinthe didn’t look up. Savage was the one who answered, walking with him to the bedroom door while Absinthe absently stared into the fireplace. The flames seemed to roll over his face and burn in his nearly transparent eyes. He was looking inward, not outward, and she realized he was far away from her. Far away from the room, trapped back in time in the hell he’d been raised in.
Her heart began to accelerate. His skin looked off. His eyes vacant. She glanced toward the door. Savage was nowhere in sight. He must have followed Steele down the hall. The men moved so silently she couldn’t hear them. Breathing deep, she concentrated on Absinthe, trying to connect with him, follow that path they’d forged between them.
His brain was complete chaos. Horrific images were back, crowding into his mind, real demons eating him alive, consuming him. She made every effort not to change her breathing, afraid the moment he was aware that she shared those images with him, that she was too close to him, he would shut down. At least she thought he would. As she continued to share his mind and his past, she feared he had been pulled into the past. He wasn’t just going down memory lane. He was in it. Living it.
The first time she’d seen those horrific vignettes playing through his mind, she thought she was looking into hell and she’d just wanted to stop it, but now she felt it was important to see what he faced. She needed to assess the images, the ones Absinthe dwelt on, seemingly was caught in, as if he was trapped there and couldn’t escape.
There he was, Absinthe as a teenager. Already gorgeous, breathtakingly so, even then. He was tall and already filled out. Naked, he moved through a room filled with girls, some on their hands and knees with fluffy cat tails, others on two legs but with bits in their mouths and horse tails. Grown men directed the various girls, using whips on their legs or buttocks when they didn’t move fast enough or comply with orders.
Clearly exasperated, the men directed Absinthe to train their “pets.” Absinthe would go to a girl and whisper to her and she would instantly do so much better, looking happy to do whatever her master wished of her. She could see Absinthe cuddling with one particular girl, very young, trying to soothe her when the man “owning” her clearly scared her.
The girl’s master, a huge brute, roared at Absinthe, grabbed him by his throat and slammed him into the wall, face-first. An eerie silence fell over the room and everyone turned to watch. The grown men began grinning, looking evil, their pets looking terrified. Absinthe didn’t fight back as he was punched in the ribs repeatedly. The brute pulled out his cock and rammed it into the teen, slamming him into the wall, crushing him deliberately as he assaulted him. Several of the men moved closer, pulling out their cocks, one directing the brute to turn his victim so he could use his mouth. The other men turned to the girls, choosing the nearest ones to use, uncaring that they were terrified or crying.
Chaos erupted. The girls, all pets of the grown men, suddenly came to life, ignoring every command, rushing under the outstretched arms of their masters, some even striking out as they flew by, flinging themselves at the brute, kicking, biting, pulling hair, attempting to drag him backward and down under the sheer weight of their little bodies as they tried to protect Absinthe.
The mutiny was over in minutes. The brute swung his massive fists at the little girls, kicking with his boots, knocking their bodies around, clearly breaking bones. Absinthe, broken and bloody, tried to stop him, but the other men quickly pulled him away. He was more valuable to them than the girls. He could train others. They couldn’t get another trainer, but they could get more pets.
The brute wasn’t satisfied, not even when he had all the girls on the ground, bloody and barely moving. He stomped on them, spit and kicked. He stalked out and returned, splashing a liquid on the walls of the room and then over the girls. When one tried to rise, he casually kicked her in the face and poured more of the liquid over her.
Absinthe began to yell. Scarlet had never seen or heard him raise his voice. He tried to use the power of his voice to stop the brute, but one of the men clapped his hand over his mouth, to keep the brute from turning his attention to the teenager. Absinthe struggled wildly. He was strong, but it was impossible when there were so many grown men muscling him from the building.
The brute stalked to the doorway, casually turned, an evil smirk on his face. He tossed a match inside and shut the door, immediately barricading it so no one could get out. Within seconds flames roared, climbing up the walls, raging toward the ceiling, breaking out the glass so that air fueled the hungry blaze, turning it into an inferno.
Outside, the men released Absinthe, who rushed the building completely nude, stripping away the barricade with his bare hands. The brute laughed and pointed to him, nudging the others, making bets that he wouldn’t enter with the entire room engulfed in flames when he was naked.
Scarlet knew better. She held her breath as he ripped the door open, threw his arm over his face and started inside. Before he could take another step, two others caught him from behind and dragged him back outside. She recognized Savage and Steele. Absinthe turned on them viciously, fighting, punching with his fists, head-butting, kicking with precise, beautifully executed kicks. Savage blocked, but didn’t fight back, keeping his attention while Steele circled behind him. Another boy, one who looked like an older version of Absinthe, came up behind him as well and wrapped him up in hard arms, taking him to the ground, holding him down.
The screams of the trapped girls and the smell of burning flesh were horrific. The night turned orange and red as the roof collapsed and the pitiful cries ceased abruptly. Absinthe let out a wail, the sound
like that of a wounded animal. Then, abruptly, he went silent. His brother got off of him slowly and reached down to help him up.
Absinthe didn’t take his hand. He didn’t look at any of the other boys. He stood in silence as he was directed by one of the men to go to the long building in the distance. He did so, stumbling like a zombie, his expression blank, looking like he was in shock. The three other boys followed behind him.
Next, Scarlet saw Alena bending over Absinthe while his brother and Savage held him, Steele examining him, Alena trying to coax him to eat. The scent of cinnamon and orange was heavy in the air. Clearly, Absinthe was willing himself to die, refusing to eat.
The bedroom door swung closed, the sound loud in the silence, startling Scarlet, bringing her back to the present. She turned around, pulling out of his mind, shocked and very happy to see Savage was back.
“Thank God. Something’s wrong with Absinthe. He’s having a flashback. He’s so far in his mind, he’s gone, Savage. I can’t reach him.” She couldn’t. Not through their connection. Not shouting his name. Not pinching him. She felt like the four helpless teens desperately trying to save him when Absinthe was starving himself, willing himself to die.
Savage’s ice-cold gaze jumped to Absinthe’s face and he let out a groan. “No. Damn it, Absinthe. Don’t fuckin’ do this.” He swung around and took two steps toward the door. Both heard the truck leaving the drive. Steele was gone.
“He clearly has done this before. How did you get him back?” Scarlet might feel desperate inside, but she was cool on the outside. She wasn’t going to lose her husband to his past. He had every right to suffer post-traumatic stress syndrome, but his demons weren’t going to swallow him whole.
“We had a club girl be his fucking little pussycat and suck his cock until he knew what was going on in real time. He wasn’t this far gone. I had to scare the crap out of her so he’d come back and protect her.”
Desolation Road Page 31