At my hesitation, Einar prompted me. “You will do this. Now.”
He wanted her attached to it? Puzzled, I looked from him to it, trying not to notice Zorie, though I kept my hand on her shoulder. “How?”
He barked out a laugh. “If you don’t know how to strip a woman, we will have to teach you. Peter! Arne!” Two men trotted over. Before they reached us, I growled at Einar. I knew where this was headed.
“I can strip her.”
He shrugged.
Taking that as permission, I gave Zorie one last heart-felt stare then I slipped the dress off her other shoulder. The fabric clung so well to her, with all the little ripples, that it refused to fall to the floor. I didn’t knock opportunity. The more I touched her, the more I would reassure her? I hoped so.
I rolled and tugged the dress downward, inching past her breasts, down over her hips then clearing the more forbidden and intimate territory of her mons. Her little white panties stayed on, though curling a little and showing a hint of her sexual triangle. That drew a smile from me. I navigated the dress over her thighs while I put my mouth to her mons and inhaled. There was no mistaking the scent of her arousal, or the dark line of moisture I’d glimpsed between her legs, on the crotch of her panties.
Unveiling this female was indeed my fantasy.
Her lidded eyes and rougher breathing said all the right things.
Exquisite, I thought, but didn’t dare to say.
I could make her like this. I could stir her. Einar wasn’t touching her. Before I’d changed, she’d felt nothing. There was that to be said for being a mesmer. Yet I’d barely begun my transformation.
I kissed the front of one thigh and she sighed and trembled beneath my hands. We might’ve been two self-absorbed lovers. Romeo and fucking Juliet, if it wasn’t for the circle of men watching us. The dilemma of this situation was screwing with my head.
“That’s enough.” I heard Einar give a fake yawn. “Time to let the experts show you how it’s done.”
I sprang to my feet and swung to face him, with Zorie behind me and my fists balling up, tightly. The veins in my neck were likely bulging and my face had gone red – I could tell. Rage wasn’t my average response, but today, to this? Yes.
“Keep your fucking hands off her.”
The two men had already made to grab Zorie but they halted.
“Is our deal off, Grimm?” His head wobbled from side to side and he tsked. The slap of the cane on his jeans leg was as much a warning as the rattle of a snake.
I swallowed my need to hit him. “No.”
“Then step away from her. You get her after they are done restraining her, and applying punishment.”
I snarled out a curse and he added, “It won’t harm her permanently. We’re not stupid. Let it happen. Stop being so possessive of the girl. Stand back or I will assume you’re done with us.”
Done with us sounded fatal. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I sucked in a breath, let it out, and I stepped aside.
“Good. I give you leeway because I know how it affects us when we become a collector. But my patience can end.”
Collector...his word for mesmer. Collector of women. But I only wanted one.
“Okay. I get it. Okay.” From the yelps, his men weren’t being gentle. Teeth jammed together, I slowly turned back to Zorie. They’d made her naked already. Shreds of underwear lay on the dark timber floor and she was being held in place, within the metal structure, by their hands as they screwed things tighter and fastened her at hand and ankle.
“Why? Why do this? She will sit still if you tell her to.”
Amusement colored his reply. “Because I like it. And that is all that matters. I’m a sadist, Grimm, it often comes with being a collector, though Kaage is happy just to control women and see them fucked, I long ago found out that I like a little salt and jalapeno with my sweet, sweet love.”
Fuck.
His eyes were as black and menacing as the cane. “You may feel the same soon. One never knows.”
Fuck you twice.
Then I saw the punishment they had in mind, and my toes curled up in my boots, my eyes seemed to zero in like a sniper-scope and the room vanished. As I watched them tie her and bind her, my breath burned to a rigid halt in my throat and my head pounded with blood.
They finished enclosing her arms, neck, and legs between smaller metal pipes, tight enough that she could move but not escape then they did more. Each man bound and circled a breast with thin rope then attached it to one of the low chains. As they pulled on the ropes, the chains swung in closer to Zorie, and her breasts bulged...my balls tightened excruciatingly...and she moaned. From pain? Pleasure? I had no clue, but I couldn’t have looked away if fire were licking at the walls.
“I see you agree with me. This is nice, is it not?” Einar’s voice was a purr.
Nice?
They hauled the ropes in tighter, another small fraction, and again, again – stretching her breasts, hurting her surely. My kinked-over dick was digging into my pants hard enough to make me need to adjust it. I didn’t move. If I was going to stand here and stare, admire her like this, slake my newborn thirsts with her torture, I needed to feel pain too.
Zorie made jagged noises, halting now and then, as if she’d forgotten how to breathe. Her hands clenched and unclenched. Her breasts were rapidly turning a darker pink. I couldn’t look away for my gaze was welded to her, searing hot.
“The things we find out about ourselves, hmmm, Mister Grimm?”
Fuck you three times, I thought, yet still, I watched.
I’d need to pay for this after, somehow.
How did say a man say sorry to a woman for letting people make her scream? For liking what she did, how she looked when crying? For the tears dribbling down her face...
Einar’s next words barely registered, but from the corner of my eye, I saw him step toward Zorie.
“Don’t worry. I can make you feel so much better, girl. This is when you learn. Both of you.”
Then he reached out and placed his hand on her throat, above the metal trap of pipes encircling it, and I didn’t do a thing except inhale and exhale, drowning out whatever he said next. The chains were taut, drawing stark lines to her rope-encircled breasts. When she arched into the metal and cried out, her mouth gaping, her hands opening and closing, I figured he’d made her orgasm. When she slumped and whimpered, and moisture dripped onto the floor from between her legs, I was certain of my deduction.
Just like that – he’d made her climax.
Fuck me. The power this ability gave a man. I’d seen Mavros do it but now, it could be me. This could be the ultimate addiction.
“I expect you to do your perverted best, Grimm. Show us what a man from Australia can do to a woman.”
I took one step, stopped, and sucked in air through my nose. Would she forgive me? Would she remember? How did I tell her I was trying to be kind, no matter what I did to her?
I had such disgusting, alluring ideas.
“I can talk to her?”
“If you’re loud.”
I bent my leg and took off one shoe, tossed it aside, then did the same to the other. Having naked feet on the floor was right. I wanted to feel everything that happened with my flesh. I dragged off shirt, pants, and underwear, caught the condom Einar tossed me and rolled it on, already imagining myself buried inside her.
My misgivings, I banished those. Now was not the time.
The two guards went away as I approached, somewhere to the side, I didn’t care where, they weren’t my concern...Zorie was.
“Do this right,” Einar warned. “Or we take her away from you.”
Never.
I could put on a show for them, if I had to. A damn good show.
Chapter 13
Zorie
Thoughts reassembled, jigsaw pieces floating in the dark.
I’d possessed them before – thoughts – when Grimm had reassured me, before the tsunami had swept me aside. Einar,
with all the touching, the wrestling of my body against this thing, the coaxing by means of his will. I’d drowned. I’d orgasmed like a puppet. I’d lost the need to reason.
My body was caught in metal. My breathing haunted me like the soundtrack from a horror film as I struggled to recover and make sense of the world.
Where? This iron device. The timber floor below. I scrunched my feet, swiveled them on the coolness. I was standing, looking down, with a bar pressed on my throat whenever I forgot to use my muscles and stand straight; my lips were wet from spluttering. I drifted my tongue along the seam of my mouth. Hardness distracted me, at ankles, and at my wrists, where my arms were stretched above.
Spreadeagled, bent over a little, and leaning forward, and I prayed no one pushed over this frame or I’d fall face first into the floor. Ropes dragged at my breasts, making them throb with each heartbeat. Their fullness reminding me constantly of my sex, keeping lust simmering, just out of reach.
And I could reach nothing, go nowhere. I flexed my hands, shivering, knowing I was on display, as well as my sex – my swollen pussy that tightened in even as I dwelled on what the men observing me could see.
My position blatantly said, come fuck me.
My hair hung in tangled streams across my face, playing over the pipes, catching in screws and joins where one piece met another. Workplace Safety would never approve this contraption.
The metal, where it hadn’t warmed, was making me shiver. Though perhaps that was from everything else that’d happened, such as coming in public, while being watched by men. That never grew old.
This bewildered me, jumbling up my sense of right and wrong. Pleasure tainted things. My reactions were beginning to fool me into thinking I liked this.
How fucking quaint.
I could hear their words: Do this right. Or we take her away from you.
While at this house, I was a possession.
Same as at Reuben’s. Déjà vu.
Embarrassment still flooded me. It was a part of the whole experience – be forced to come then be mortified. Wetness trickled down my shaking legs while what might be a million men watched. I was a spectacle, a show. I couldn’t see them; I couldn’t hear them, but I knew they were there, behind me. Climaxing in front of them was bad, showing it by leaking down my inner thighs seemed worse. I hung my head, held irrevocably in place by the evil metal and the ropes around my breasts.
Reuben had been a despicable man but these men, Einar and Kaage, they seemed like underground dregs compared to him. They were gnomes and ogres kept away from the sun, fed by the scraps and sewage of humankind. At least Reuben had performed his perversions in the sunlight.
I raised my head, licked my lips again.
The stained glass of the windows sent streaks of color through the air above, tinting the floating dust motes, making heaven from hell. I could drink that in. Beauty sustained the soul, even when you were bound and waiting for someone who you’d lost faith in: Grimm.
And now, he kneeled before me – a lying supplicant. His eyes gleamed. His tattooed arm, with the fierce wolf head, was like an inscribed verification of who he was...my traitor.
“What have you become?” I rasped.
The steadiness of his gaze, looking directly into my eyes, was that his way of pretending he was true?
“I have to speak loudly, Zorie, or they will hurt you more.”
“Huh.”
“I’m yours, always, no matter what I do.”
Seriously? “Do you think me stupid?” I laughed. I could feel him, feel the weird aura of difference. “You’re one of them.” I closed my eyes for a second. “You’re a mesmer.”
He heaved out a sigh, and lowered his head. On his knees, but I was in metal bondage. His position meant nothing.
“You kneel for me, Grimm?” I smirked. Yeah, I dared to smirk. I saw no point in showing fear, or that I was humbled, or lesser, because I damn well wasn’t.
“I do. Collector. These two call themselves collectors.”
His words had been said in a distant tone. He wasn’t thinking of them at all.
As if he’d found some precious relic, he settled his palm on the front of my thigh. His fingers splayed out, inches from the juncture of my widely spread thighs and the opening to my sex.
Used to the lightning effect of mesmers, at first I didn’t quite register what he did.
Subtle, so subtle.
The old Grimm had ceased affecting me, months ago, but now, I warmed. Heat crept into me from where his hand flattened to my skin. Did he know? If I could’ve plucked his hand away, I would have. The effect bothered me, more than that of other mesmers, because this was a man I’d thought a friend.
I went to strain toward him then managed to hold myself back. I tensed, denying this wickedly animal urge.
No.
Not this. Not him.
“Stop.” My thighs quivered.
He didn’t stop; he didn’t move. Wetness welled from my entrance, making me wonder what he could see. I bit my lip, hard enough to break the skin. The pain helped and I glared at this man who’d become the enemy.
He lifted his head and met my eyes. “Don’t.”
“What?” I spat.
“I’m still your friend.”
Einar barked a laugh. I ignored him.
“You are not.”
“Whatever I do to you is because I have to. Wouldn’t you rather be mine than some other man’s?”
The question seemed genuine, to him. Answering meant acknowledging that they could give me away. They couldn’t. I was me.
“Fuck. You,” I whispered, loud enough for only Grimm to hear. “Fuck you to Hell and back.”
I regretted my words, instantly. Anger bloomed in his eyes. I jerked and metal bumped the back of my neck. Grimm had been a friend but one never knew what an angered man might do. Especially when I was powerless and alone.
He wrapped both hands around my left thigh and held it for a while longer, just held it. Those big male hands could encompass all of me with ease. He gave the ropes and my breasts a lingering appraisal then leaned in and opened his mouth. I dreaded what his teeth might do; cringing backward, I succeeded in squeezing all of an inch away from him. The stupid metal held me in thrall.
Then...he bit me, took a huge mouthful of my thigh. Pain crunched in, connected to my groin then expanded through me like a runaway fire.
“No!” I whined, squirmed, then I stopped moving because moving made his teeth twist in my flesh. Gasping erratically, I took the pain. No choice. He had to let go sometime, had to. “Pleeeease!”
How brave I’d been, how stupid. I hissed through my teeth, and said stop in never-ending loop, and still he didn’t let me go. “Please...please?”
His teeth sank in some more.
This would make me bleed. I feared he’d remove a chunk of me if this kept up. My leg shook.
He let go, but then bit me again, with less force though hard enough to hurt, then higher up, then higher still, marching up my thigh. Each bite took him closer to my pussy. An inch from my clit, his teeth took a miniscule fold of my skin.
I ventured a whispered, “Please. Don’t bite.”
He licked me there.
God. So erotic, his tongue toying with me. The wetness cooling and contrasting with the heat of his mouth.
He lifted away then moved in and bit my clit, and licked me there also, once, again, again.
God. That...Was going to...
“No. No. Please don’t make me come. Not you. Don’t you dare.” With each word, my voice had become smaller and smaller. My legs shook again, but not from pain. Pleasure was building, rippling in, as he fucked with my mind with his tongue.
The man must not. I grunted then breathing ceased.
Mustn’t.
Overcome, I tensed, arching into his wicked mouth.
Fingers wormed then shoved inside me. Liquid drenched me, him. Such slipperiness, such glorious fucking in and out with those fingers
So close.
A hand clawed into one cheek of my ass and I shattered. My mind fell into nothing. I heard my screaming, from high above, deep within. The blasted state of orgasm savaged me, threw me away, wrecked.
Our breath holds, stills, while we come, denying life, welcoming death.
I had to breathe.
I hung there, spent, dragging in air, and horrified at this next step into darkness. Grimm had been my bulwark, my steady rock of a man. Now he was with them. Then the creak of shoe leather reminded me of Einar – I glimpsed his wolf-like presence. Had he brought me to orgasm, not Grimm?
“You told me to fuck you. Or at least, that’s how I interpret those words.”
I whipped my head around, spying Grimm crossing my vision, going behind me.
His hands on my hips, his cock nestling in, sliding between my legs.
I cursed him weakly, as he entered me. “You bastard.”
Like a punctuation to my curse, he slammed in, forcing his cock even farther inside while he wrapped his mammoth hands around my breasts.
“I would’ve taken the ropes off,” he said, pausing in his violation. “But...”
He fucked me for several more strokes. My natural lubrication offered him no resistance. The pressure as his cock drove in and out, pushing apart my walls like some crude ram, it was...
I gasped, rocking with each invasion, taking it, loving it. Incredible. I tried to hide my face and tuck my chin into my neck, but the pipes stopped me.
When he squeezed my breasts, I keened at the mounting pain. “Wait. Wait. No.”
“Yes.” He thrust in, slow, breathing in my ear like a beast ready to eat its prey. “The ropes...” Then his cock dragged out just as slow.
I needed it, needed it in me. I wouldn’t say.
Don’t.
“The ropes...” he began again.
He was slow when I needed fast.
“They make you look too pretty, too fucking hot, to take them off. Besides...” He clamped down on my tits with his hands. “These are mine now.” He shoved in, with his body molded to my back, his arms around me, his teeth in my neck, and his hands claiming my breasts. “Fuck.”
Wicked Weapon (Dark Hearts Book 2) Page 8