by Alexa Black
Elana set the candle down and bent to kiss Cailyn. Cailyn opened her mouth, thinking of how Elana’s fingers would feel, turning and twisting inside her.
Then Elana drew forth a knife. It glittered in the candlelight. Cailyn shivered with a familiar fear.
She froze when the sharp, cold metal touched her skin. She didn’t think she could deal with blades. Not now. Not after everything that had happened with Teran.
She opened her mouth to protest, but it had already moved over her skin.
It did not cut. It only scraped away the wax dripped on her body as it glided over her oiled flesh. She marveled at the grace of it.
Such skill with such dangerous things. Lady Teth, Lord Darien, the roomful of people around her. Their knives, floggers, paddles, clips. Had they spent years practicing to do these things, like Cailyn had spent learning to serve?
Elana’s fingers ran soft along her cheeks, pulling her out of her reverie. The blunt nails felt different from Teran’s metal. Elana smiled and ran them down her neck and chest, teasing her nipples to erection.
A languid warmth spread through Cailyn. Her eyelids drooped. She murmured as Elana’s fingertips traced the places where the wax had been.
She opened her eyes and gasped. A crowd had gathered around them, just far away enough not to intrude. They smiled, joked, pointed.
Elana leaned over Cailyn. “It’s all right,” she cooed.
Cailyn pushed her head away, the room a blur of candlelight and bright red hair. “I’m all right.” She propped herself up on an elbow, little pieces of wax all around her. “I’m used to people seeing me.”
“Be careful when you get up.” Elana guided Cailyn to the edge of the table. Cailyn shook her head to clear the dizziness as she righted herself.
Elana wrapped her arm around Cailyn. People moved aside as they made their way to the cushioned sofas. With a light touch, Elana guided Cailyn onto the soft cushions.
Cailyn sank into them. “Thank you, my lady.”
Elana reached for her again, but Cailyn pushed her away. She was here to enjoy herself. Not to attach herself to one person.
Elana nodded. She flitted away to join the other revelers, sparing Cailyn a last wink. Cailyn closed her eyes and luxuriated in the soft cushions.
Someone sat down beside her. She opened her eyes and looked into the bearded face of Lord Darien.
“I saw you over there. Very nice.”
Cailyn reached out to touch his muscled arms. She remembered their strength—and the subtle things his fingers could do.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked. She nodded. He grinned. “You looked like it. Will you do more tonight?”
She blushed. “I’d like to, my lord.”
“You’d like to?” He eased an arm around her, which she welcomed. “Plenty of people here would love a turn with you. You could go talk to them.”
“It’s not them I’m frightened of.”
With one of his booming laughs, he said, “They can’t do worse than Teran Nivrai.”
“No, my lord. It’s not that. It’s—I feel wrong without her here. Taking pain from strangers.”
“You’ve taken it from me.”
“That’s different.”
“Maybe it is. But this isn’t all about pain, you know. You learned that from me.” He grinned. “Or should have.”
“Yes. I did learn that from you, my lord.” Cailyn’s mouth twisted into a smile.
“You could save pain for her, if you want.”
“Here?”
He chuckled again. “Maybe not completely.”
He pointed to an empty leather sling hanging in a corner. “But we could put some cuffs on you and bring everyone over for sex rather than for pain.”
Her smile widened. She watched the nobles pass by, staring, waiting. What would they do with her?
He’d said she could forbid them pain. Would that frustrate them? Would they take it out on her in other ways, cleave her with hands and members and devices, worry her skin with fingernails and teeth?
“That might not be so bad, my lord.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Cailyn hurried to the sling while Darien spread the word. Supplies lay near it already: gloves, lubricant, a few small implements of pain. How many would the nobles use by the time they finished with her?
Darien returned, alone for the moment. Others hovered a respectful distance away. Their eyes swept over her, and she shivered, heat building in her flesh.
For a moment, Darien did nothing but look at her. The position tilted her vulva toward him, pink and obvious. She watched him watching her, wished she could feel his fingers against the silky flesh. Instead, he reached to close and lock cuffs around her wrists.
He ran his hands along her body, reached down to unfasten his breeches, and drew himself out. He teased her vulva with his member as he had with his hands and rubbed his erection over the slick skin. Cailyn tilted her hips, but he laughed at her frustration and moved away again.
Hands reached down to caress her. From the delicate shape, they couldn’t be Darien’s. She tilted her head to look, saw light skin and purple fingernails. Elana.
Good. Two people she knew would take her first.
The slim fingers slid up her torso and neck. They tapped against her cheeks, her lips. She opened her mouth to take them in and felt Lord Darien pressed against her entrance again. She moaned around Elana’s fingers as Lord Darien plunged in.
The others gathered close. She saw faces, hungry, avid. But the fingers and flesh invaded her, waves of pleasure drove all else away. She knew only that they watched, stared, waited.
More hands descended on her all at once. Some ran along her flesh, their movements slow and tender. Others grabbed at her. They twisted at her breasts, squeezed and slapped at her exposed skin.
She tried to focus on them, but the rhythm of Lord Darien moving inside her and the fingers probing her mouth made it impossible.
Gentle touches soothed away the roughness. She swam through the sensations and closed her eyes again.
Slaps and pulls shocked her back to the room and the people in it. They fought over her, almost, clutching at every bit of flesh they could.
When Lord Darien came inside her, she thrashed with both pleasure and panic, knowing he would soon be gone.
Gloved and oil-coated fingers pushed into her smaller orifice. She had no idea whose. Frenzied, they drove into her, trying to outdo the man who’d used her just before. Someone else drove without warning into her open mouth.
They pushed and pulled, forced her ever more open, prodded her with too many hands. Someone suggested putting clamps on her nipples. Lord Darien paused to see that she didn’t object. Twin stars of pain flickered in the middle of the forces tearing her.
Flashes of pleasure flared through her as whoever used her found his stride—or hers, as women’s fingers, dildos, and men’s flesh became a blur, one diving in when the other left her open.
They moved in her, a great machine. Her body locked and spasmed, over and over.
How many times had they used her? Others stood back, staring with hungry and unblinking eyes. Were they waiting their turn? Had they taken it already? She’d forgotten. Moments flared gossamer in her mind, each driven out by the next.
She didn’t know how many times she came. Sometimes she welcomed it. Sometimes her body responded, automatic, a reflex driven by the will of the assembly. Flushed, sweaty, exhausted, no longer hers. Pleasure built in her, burst through her, awakened her, left her drained. Again and again and again.
A hand swept down to remove the clamps. She grimaced, shook, and came again.
The last of them withdrew. She panted. Little trills of sensation sparked through her sweating flesh. Her body ached in a hundred places. She wondered if there would be bruises. Lord Darien had promised they’d restrain themselves, but Cailyn couldn’t remember enough to know they had.
She opened her eyes. He hovered over her. His finger
s ran over her hands and wrists. She blinked away the fuzziness in her vision and smiled up at him.
He stepped aside. Everyone else fell silent and followed.
What—?
With effort, she bent her head up to see what had happened.
In front of her stood Teran Nivrai.
She neither smiled nor frowned. Her mouth was set in a harsh line, her expression unreadable.
Gloves hid her hands, as usual. But while one hand wore her usual leather, the other had already slipped on a black rubber glove. Cailyn winced as Teran squeezed lubricant onto her gloved fingers.
Damn her. Couldn’t she see that the others had done too much already?
Cailyn stared at Teran. She wouldn’t refuse. Not now. But why had Teran come here? She’d told Cailyn not once but twice that she had no interest.
Teran smirked, not returning Cailyn’s gaze. She slammed her fingers into Cailyn’s smaller orifice.
Cailyn shrieked as they entered. Teran’s harshness had always come with seduction. Even when Teran was cruel right away, gentleness would follow.
Now Teran was staring past her. Now she could have been anyone. Now she felt only a relentless burn in an orifice the others had already used. She cried a shapeless word of protest. The fingers drove into her harder.
She screamed a desperate welcome and hated herself for it. She stared up at the blank face. Her body tightened hard around Teran’s fingers. She bit back a curse, closed her eyes, and tried to slow her breathing, force herself to relax.
Teran paused as Cailyn tensed. Then her movements sped up again, plunging in as the flesh around them loosened.
If she’d really meant to be cruel, would she have bothered?
Cailyn looked up. Through the haze of sensation, she could hear the others gasp around them.
Cailyn blinked at them, curious. Her breath grew hard and fast. She bit back a plea for more.
Teran’s mouth twitched as she drove her fingers in again. Amusement? Desire? Cailyn had only a moment to wonder.
The orgasm washed over her at last, so strong she thrashed in her bonds. She yelled again, a strange foreign sound she never thought she’d hear herself make.
Teran slid free. Cailyn watched, heart pounding, as Teran peeled off and discarded the glove. She slipped on her usual leather one in a quick, fluid motion.
She reached down to release Cailyn from her bonds, but made no move to help Cailyn stand. Cailyn held on to the frame of the sling to steady herself. She looked out at the audience, hoping they might help. None did.
They did whisper, hissing recriminations at Teran. Gloved hands clenched and Teran scowled. Cailyn thought she might say something, but she stayed silent.
Steady now, Cailyn looked down. Someone had laid her clothes next to the sling. Teran ignored her. Cailyn shrugged and slipped them on.
Teran turned and walked out, her stride long and swift. She stared straight ahead, not glancing at Darien or Valik or anyone else. Cailyn hurried to keep up.
*
It wasn’t until the elevator doors hissed shut after them that Teran said anything to Cailyn.
“You put on a good show back there, my little one,” she said, reaching out a gloved hand to caress Cailyn’s cheek.
Cailyn flinched. “You were so cold in there. Now you want to touch me?”
“I had to give them what they wanted. How do you think they would have reacted if they’d seen me treat you well?”
Cailyn opened her mouth to speak. Teran’s hands moved down to her breasts, circling her nipples. Pain flared through them at the light touch. They were still tender from the bite of the clamps and the fingers pulling and twisting at them.
Cailyn laughed, too tired to argue. The doors slid open. Cailyn followed Teran into their rooms.
“Get yourself cleaned up,” Teran ordered. Cailyn hastened to the shower, eager to rinse herself off.
As she shook out her hair, she remembered the wax dripping onto her flesh, the warmth of it falling onto her skin. If she’d known people on the dark channels did things like that, would she ever have taken an offer from the queen of helldemons?
She turned off the water, dried herself, and wound towels around her hair and body.
“I didn’t tell you to leave,” a familiar voice said. She looked up to see Teran with a braided whip in one hand.
“My lady?” Cailyn stammered. She dropped the towel in surprise and stepped back as Teran advanced. “Don’t you want to go into the other room?”
“No. I want you right here. Put your hands up on the wall.”
Cailyn shivered but obeyed. “You want this now?”
Teran walked over to her and draped the falls of the braided whip along her back. It might have felt good. If Cailyn didn’t know what it promised.
“Our time here is almost over,” Teran whispered, her breath close in Cailyn’s ear. “The boy is on the verge of breaking.”
“My lady—don’t—”
“Before we part, I want to have you everywhere. Not just in my bed. Or the flagellary. Or our rooms.” A hand slid into her hair, gripped tight.
Cailyn blinked through the swoon threatening to overtake her. “The boy—”
“There’s something he doesn’t want to tell me. I left him crying. Shaking. Huddled in the corner of the room.”
“Teran, I don’t—”
“Maybe he’ll break down. Tell me the rebellion’s plans. Maybe he’ll scream something he thinks I want to hear.”
“Don’t.”
“I will present whatever he says to the Councils, just as I have been. They’ll decide what to do with that information.”
Cailyn gulped in air. “And it’s over after that?”
“Yes. I won’t see him again.” Teran sighed. “Or you.”
“You don’t think he knows, do you?”
“I think he does know. I just don’t think pain will wrench it out of him.”
She shook her head. “Then this foolishness will be a memory for everyone involved. I won’t be sad to see it end.” She kissed Cailyn’s neck. “But I will miss you.”
Cailyn pressed into the wall, suddenly cold. “Why turn your back on me? You still want me.”
She swallowed hard. “I still want you.”
“So I was right.” Teran ran a still-gloved hand down Cailyn’s naked back. Cailyn trembled under her touch.
Cailyn swallowed hard, thinking of the boy. Teran would break him, even if it didn’t yield results, just because the Councils made her. Lust alone was no good reason to stay.
And yet, the Councils had forced her into it all. Even Lord Darien thought so.
Then there was the ache she felt. The long, stretching hollowness that filled her, hearing that Teran had finished with her. That the experiment was over. That she would never see Teran again.
The gloved hand pressed against her back. She whimpered, wanting to feel the newsteel digging into her skin. Her flesh stung where the others had used her. She should have wanted to lie down, to sleep. She should have told Teran to just let her rest.
Given what she’d just gone through, even a helldemon would understand that.
“And if I called you months from now? If I asked you to come to me?” Teran’s lips, cool on skin the bath had warmed, pressed against her ear. Her teeth worried Cailyn’s earlobe. Cailyn gasped, grateful for the small bloom of pain.
“If you called me, I would come.”
Steel pierced her. She could feel Teran’s smile.
“Please,” she gasped.
The claws tore into her skin, electric and sharp. She threw back her head and screamed.
Teran kissed her, light as the touch of an angel’s feather.
She stepped back, then swung the whip at the air in front of Cailyn’s back. Cailyn gulped in air. She would have no time to prepare herself. Not now. Not like this.
The braided leather tore into her back. Her breaths became screams.
There was no sensuality in it. The stri
kes laid her flesh open. Every part of her back stung as they tore into it. Cailyn’s nerves flared to unbearable life as the tails of the whip tore through her illusions.
She screamed again and again, her mouth wide as she cried out in welcome and relief. Her body burned with long hours of use already, but she’d had so little pain.
Her nerves drank it in. She shrieked until she lost her voice. Still her throat opened, again and again.
Behind her, Teran panted, her breath heavy with exertion and desire.
She thought of Teran’s thin fingers, of how quickly they would cool in a chilly interrogation room. Or would it be cold? She didn’t know, but as soon as she thought of it, she could feel it, the chilled fingers a counterpoint to the ragged fire rending her back.
At that thought, Cailyn shuddered, as violently as she had from the blows. But this too was a part of her now, whether Teran had wanted it or not. Those hands had done things Cailyn couldn’t imagine.
She could feel that too, sharp slivered ice behind the flame. It would always be there. She twisted away from the flogger, then arched back to meet it a moment later.
Whatever Teran had done, whatever Teran would do, Cailyn needed her now.
Teran would use her again. As many times as she could before the end. But this desperate slicing into her skin would not happen again. If Cailyn wanted it, she would have to seize it now.
She pushed her back out to meet the whip again. A snarl of aggression and delight answered her, and fire burst over her skin.
She shuddered. Everything went white as she slumped against the wall.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Teran’s arm fall. Hands ran over her skin, warm from the shower’s humidity. Teran’s arms held her up as she sagged against the wall. She leaned on them, feeling faint.
Generous now, Teran steadied her, led her back into the bedroom. The journey felt infinite.
Cailyn collapsed onto the bed. Teran helped to ease her down. Her head lolled as she sank into the soft sheets.
Steel tickled her cheek and chin. “Quiet now.”
The ceiling glowed. The dark silhouette of Teran’s head bent down over her. Hands cradled her head. Her sex throbbed. Her back stung, sudden pinpricks of sensation curling through it.