by Lily White
I couldn’t make Aiden work for it, but I could make Grey, and that wasn’t a right I was willing to give up. Starting on the bottom rung, I was setting my game pieces in place, figuring out my moves as I went along to finally gain what I’d wanted all along.
Greyson was my simple white pawn.
Aiden the black King.
I just had to determine how to stack my moves in order to call checkmate.
“Yes, Master,” he answered while buckling the collar around his neck. I sighed. Aiden was right. It did nothing for me.
I was a strong woman. I had to be to survive five years of life in the Society with one of the coldest and most cunning of the Masters. But that didn’t mean I wanted a man at my feet. Strength was something I admired. Being made to beg turned me on. It was my choice to like it. My choice to crave it. And it didn’t make me weaker if I preferred a man to dominate me in order to get me off. Because it was just that. My choice. My life. My kinks that Aiden knew just how to stroke in order to force a burst of stars behind my eyes as my body crumpled willingly beneath his skilled hands.
Still, there was a game to be played. And play it, I would.
“Good boy. Finish putting on your jeans and I’ll escort you to the bathroom to freshen up and to the kitchen for breakfast.”
With crop and chain in hand, I led him from the dark room to the bathroom, surprise wrinkling my brow to find Anthony leaning against a far wall. Allowing Grey to walk into the bathroom alone, I leaned against the wall next to Anthony, crossing one ankle over the other. “He’s still spying on me?”
“For your safety alone, I assure you.”
My shoulders withered. “Did he go out last night? Or bring someone in?”
Amber eyes drifted my direction, a peripheral view since Anthony didn’t bother to turn his head. “He was in his office for most of the night. But he left early this morning. What did you do to him?”
“Played the game.”
The corner of his mouth curled. “Good girl.”
Greyson emerged from the bathroom before we could say another word, my heels clicking across the floor as I crossed the width of the hall to attach my chain leash to his collar. He must not have appreciated Anthony’s presence because he kept his eyes on the man leaning against the wall behind me, something unspoken being exchanged between them.
“Eyes down, Pet. Anthony is a Master, and as such, will have your respect.” Grey complied immediately.
Breakfast was served to Greyson in a dog bowl on the floor, a trick Aiden had taught me the first night he had me. From where I sat perched on a dining chair sipping coffee, I held his leash by slipping the loop around my wrist.
After finishing our meals, I led Greyson to the playroom where his photo was displayed, but I had no intention of uncovering the embarrassing taunt for him to see. That photo was a message from Aiden to me. If he’d meant it as a means to fuck with my Courtesan, he would have hung it in the dark room and installed a gallery light above the frame to ensure it could always been seen.
What the message was, I wasn’t sure, but I would decipher it eventually, would understand his code.
The door clicked shut behind us. With crop in hand, I demanded, “Up on the bench.”
Interest glimmered in Greyson’s eyes. Without speaking he turned to walk to the bench, his body jerking back when he reached the end of his leash. Glancing over his shoulder, he lifted a brow in question. “Are you going to give me enough slack to get there?”
My lips curled. “I wasn’t talking about you, Pet. I’ll be the one sitting on the bench, but I don’t feel like walking.”
His eyebrow arched higher. “Would you like me to carry you, Master?”
No, I thought. I’d like to be tossed up there by the hands of a dominate man without concern whether I felt like playing on the bench or not.
“Yes.”
Walking back to me, Greyson lifted me without effort, his arms strong, his shoulders broad, his chest solid. Carefully setting me down, he planted his hands on the bench on either side of my body, his face hovering close to mine, a mischievous grin on his lips. “What would you like to do next?” Tracing the line of my jaw with the tip of his nose, he made it very clear what he had in mind.
The sound of leather on skin cracked through the room, the thin line of my crop blistering on his side from where I struck him. “I don’t recall giving you permission to touch me, much less ask questions.”
Inserting my foot between us, I planted my heel against his stomach and shoved him back.
Desire flooded his Caribbean blue eyes. “Yes, Master,” he said, arms lifting in surrender.
A wicked glimmer in his gaze told me Greyson believed I was playing with him. Simply acting in a role I had no right to keep. This man loved sex, I could tell just how much when everything seemed to turn him on. But just how far was he willing to go for me?
“I want you on your knees, Greyson. And I want your promise that you’ll do anything I say in order for me to let you touch me again. Anything,” I repeated, stressing the word.
Without complaint, he lowered himself to the ground. “Whatever you want. I’ve been dying to touch your body again all damn day.”
Hopping from the bench, I dropped his leash to the ground. “Stay.”
Making my way through the house, I searched for and found Anthony relaxing in a sitting room reading the paper. Sera slept nearby, wrapped in a blanket on the couch. It made me wonder if she was sick.
Whispering, I asked, “Is she feeling all right?”
Absolute joy shone in Anthony’s eyes. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Yes.”
“Sera’s pregnant.”
My jaw dropped open. From what I remembered from when he first trained her, it was impossible for Sera to get pregnant, her injuries severe from the men who’d owned her before. To say I was stunned would be an understatement. Then again, miracles happened every so often. The favor I had to ask suddenly felt horribly wrong, especially after news like that. “Oh, Anthony. Congratulations.”
More joy, his handsome face beaming. “It took some time and a lot of medical treatments, but we accomplished the impossible.” He paused, his warm eyes locking to mine. “Is there something you need, Rebecca?”
I really hated to ask, but he was the only person I trusted to help me. “After hearing that, I hate to ask for this favor.”
Glancing at Sera to ensure she was still deep asleep, he stood from his seat, wrapped an arm over my shoulder and slipped us quietly from the room.
“Is this a favor asked from one Master to another?”
I nodded.
“Then don’t worry about my Courtesan. She’ll understand. What is it you need me to do?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AIDEN
Three times.
Three fucking times I’d checked on Rebecca, walking the halls like a peasant because my surveillance system in the Courtesan wing was knocked from the walls with the vengeance of a feral woman. But I walked them, nonetheless, to find Rebecca sleeping by herself in the playroom. Fully clothed, she was bunched in a fetal position when I opened the door. My first instinct was to pick her up and carry her to our room, but I fought the desire, walking away to find myself wandering back an hour later. Each time, it took everything I had not to assert my will on her desire to sleep alone.
Satisfied that she had chosen to sleep alone instead of curled up with Christopher, I’d eventually returned to my office to think about everything Rebecca had said.
It had to be a game, every word of it, a poison tipped dagger she’d expertly wielded because that was just the type of woman she was. And although I knew that Rebecca was cunning enough to strike out with just the right words to throttle me, I couldn’t help the doubt I felt as well.
It shouldn’t matter.
She shouldn’t matter.
I’d never wanted a permanent toy and I’d been an idiot to keep her.
But yet, even I couldn�
�t deny that the last year I’d been a Master had occurred with an empty dark room. Even I couldn’t deny that I’d been satisfied enough with one rebellious woman that I’d lost the drive and ambition that had made me who I was when I first took her.
She’d left me standing there, practically with my hard cock in my hands, and I’d laughed with pride to witness her glory.
It was my turn to make a choice. Should I become what I knew she’d always wanted of me? Or should I remember who I’d always been and steal away another woman to mold?
Paul’s phone call couldn’t have come at a better time. First thing in the morning, before the sun had a chance to shed light across the horizon.
“Two of Jake’s Courtesans are now owned by Henry Wilcox. I’ll text you his address so you can talk to the women, if you want.”
Item one on my agenda.
“We paid Sarah another one point five million. After it was secure in her accounts, she called demanding more. She’s going to talk.”
Item two.
It looked as if my next days would be busy. I’d left the house without bothering to change into new clothes, Rebecca’s shoe still a barely discernible imprint on my crotch.
I liked it there.
An hour’s drive had me walking into Henry’s foyer. An Owner in the Society, he didn’t have the skill to train a Courtesan, but he certainly appreciated the men who could. My reputation preceded me, it seemed, and the asshole would have dropped to his knees and sucked my cock simply because he’d heard what I could do. The idiot wasn’t wealthy enough to afford the Courtesans I sold, but he was all too happy to lead me to Jake’s leftovers in the attempt to use the time to barter with me and convince me to lower my prices. I played along, but only because he had something I needed.
Magdalena and Gretchen were as Paul had described. Both were pushing forty, an advanced age for the Courtesans within the Society, but despite the lines at the corners of their eyes and the skin that sagged just slightly from the backs of their arms, they held themselves with the same seductive pride of women half their age. If anything, these women were an asset to a man like Henry only because they had enough experience to see to his every indecent desire without the need for instruction or prodding.
Settling myself into an overstuffed chair, I declined their sexual invitations and waited for them to settle on the floor at my feet. Perfectly poised, they kneeled on the thick, woven rug, their spines ramrod straight and their hands tucked demurely between their knees. Despite Jake’s age, he obviously hadn’t allowed his Courtesans to forgo proper behavior.
“Which one of you can tell me about Jake’s last Courtesan, Christopher?”
They glanced at each other, a shared smile playing on their lips. Magdalena was the first to respond, her faded red hair pulled back into a knot at her nape, loose strands hanging down at her temples. “Chris was our Master’s gift to us. In his last years, he had problems...”
Pulling her hand from her knee, she straightened a finger, then let it droop, Jake’s problem now crystal clear. “We loved our Master and promised him he was enough, but-“
“He liked to watch,” Gretchen interjected, hazel eyes lifting for just a second, desperate for contact with mine before she remembered to return her gaze to the floor at my feet. “Chris was young. Energetic. Enthusiastic at times. He didn’t mind the audience.”
Son.
Of.
A.
Bitch.
“Are you telling me Christopher was stolen and kept for the sole purpose of having sex with the Courtesans and not for Jake’s amusement?”
“Master tried,” Magdalena admitted, “but Chris only laughed at the pain. It got him off. And Chris was...well, he was...”
“Violent,” Gretchen finished for her. “In a good way. Much like Master had been twenty years ago. Always eager. He satisfied us, and when he didn’t want to perform, Master whipped him. He liked the blood, would attack us when released from his chains and go for hours.”
“Chris scared me at times,” Gretchen confessed after another second. “He was never out of his mind and would never seriously hurt us, but he reminded me of an animal when he was in a mood. Different from Master, but Master liked to watch.”
This was unheard of. Sure, the Masters were free to abduct whomever they pleased and use them for whatever purpose they deemed fit, but to steal a man for the sole purpose of watching him fuck others? In my years in the Society, I’d never seen it done.
“Is it true Chris was kept in a dark basement?”
They nodded.
“And is it possible your Master used Chris’s body for his own sexual needs?”
Raising her hand, Magdalena gave me the limp finger again, shaking her head. “It hadn’t worked for over a year by the time he brought Chris home. And yes, Chris was kept in the basement, often chained, but only for a little while. He earned his freedom to roam the house. We enjoyed him. He was-“
“Charming,” Gretchen admitted. “He reminded us of who Master was when he first owned us.”
It was becoming all too clear that Rebecca’s new Courtesan was, in fact, playing his own game. What I couldn’t figure out was why. What was the point of pretending to be insane when Jake Gillian died?
“Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”
They both shook their heads, their knowledge of Chris sexual only.
I left shortly afterward, Henry following me out of the house on my heels like a dog. After telling him I would consider lowering my prices just once, I jumped in my car to return home.
More than anything, I wanted to march into the dark room and have a thorough chat with our new guest, but first I needed to mull over the new information and attempt to understand what this clearer insight told me about the man playing Pet to my Courtesan.
. . .
“That’s quite the perplexed expression. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you so distracted and confused.”
Anthony waltzed into the sitting room where I’d hidden away for the good part of the day, his gaze taking note of the scotch I held in one hand and the cigar on the other.
Lounging back in my seat at a small poker table, I was sure my appearance at that moment was unusual. My tie lay loose over my shoulders, my shirt unbuttoned at the collar, my legs extended in front of me as I allowed alcohol to warm my veins and loosen my muscles. I felt like a mouse trapped in a fucked up maze. Too many wrong turns and dangerous corners weighing on me and making it impossible to focus on just one issue at a time.
Taking a seat at the table, Anthony grabbed a pack of playing cards, tapped them on the table, and went about shuffling them while I pulled a drag from my cigar.
“Christopher was a stud,” I blurt out, smoke pouring over my lips as I spoke the words. “Apparently Jake stole him with the sole intent of fucking his Courtesans while he watched.”
If Anthony was surprised, he didn’t show it. Instead, he quietly dealt the cards before setting the remainder of the deck on the table between us. I glanced down at the cards in front of me, laughing sardonically at the gesture. “As if I’m not playing enough games already.”
“This one won’t end in disaster.”
Setting my cigar in a glass ashtray, I released the iron grip I’d held on the Scotch and picked up the cards. The universe must have been fucking with me. Even in this, I’d been dealt a crap hand.
“I highly doubt it was solely for his Courtesans. Chris is skilled in other areas.”
My gaze lifted over the top of my cards. “What do you mean?”
Arranging his hand, Anthony was careful not to meet my eyes. “Rebecca asked for a favor this afternoon while you were away.”
He paused as if waiting for me to ask him to continue. To determine if I even cared enough to ask. Of course I fucking cared.
“What did she ask you to do?”
Mouth tilting at the corner, Anthony grabbed a few poker chips from the holder and tossed them in the center of the table. I
grabbed a handful and tossed them as well, even though I had a pair of twos staring back at me together with a five, a seven, and a jack.
“She ordered him to perform oral sex on me.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she wanted to see how far Chris was willing to go to earn her favor. She wouldn’t let him touch her until he’d proven he was properly behaved. I assume making him perform on another man was her way around giving him pain, which he enjoys, or fucking him herself, which he also enjoys.”
Although I was proud of Rebecca for having figured that out, I was surprised Chris had complied.
“Was he any good?”
Anthony nodded. “Men aren’t my thing and it took a while to get me hard, but he succeeded in getting me off.”
Slamming the rest of my drink, I grabbed the bottle to pour another. I slammed that one as well, eyeing the bottle again with the intent of downing what was left in it. None of this shit was making sense.
He tossed a few more chips. I tossed some in return. It wasn’t like there was money involved. He cocked a brow.
“Are you scared, Aiden?”
Anthony glanced up from his cards, his eyes glimmering beneath the low wash of lamplight in the room.
A bark of laughter burst from my lips. “What could possibly scare me?”
The room was deafeningly silent before Anthony flattened his cards over the surface of the table, each card flicking against his finger as he laid them out to reveal a full house.
“That she might surpass you as a Master.”
The tick of my jaw was the only tell I gave him. Ignoring his comment, I dropped my cards on the table. If this was the game he truly wanted to play, then I would play it.
“It seems you’ve won this round.”
He grinned, keen knowledge written into the curve of his lips. “In more ways than one. Would you like to know what I think?”
I laughed. “Do I ever want to know what you think?”
Dealing another hand, he kept his eyes trained on his cards. “I think she was hoping he would fight back and refuse.”
Another shit hand. I was two minutes away from taking my bottle and retreating to my office to stew in my aggravation alone. “Why?”