Chapter Thirty-One
Ryker
An hour later found him and Cosima in the blue room of the club after having gone over limits and other negotiations with Hudson and Ian, getting Cosima changed out of her party dress, and both of them showered.
It felt like a production which wasn’t what he’d been going for. It left too much time for thoughts to poke at his brain, for endless questions to arise.What if what if what if… But this was always going to be a production because he’d put it off for so long like the thick-skulled dimwit he was.
Now, though, the preparations had all been made and it was time. And it was just the two of them.
He didn’t play alone. Ever. He didn’t play alone because he didn’t trust himself. This wasn’t quite alone, but it wasn’t as public as he preferred. He knew some people thought it was because he wanted an audience. He didn’t mind being watched but he didn’t feed off it either. No, it was all about not putting himself in the position of being solely responsible for another human being. Which was a lie he told himself so he could still play.
Hudson and Ian were in the next room. They’d hear Cosima if she safed out. It would be fine. They’d wanted to give them some space, probably didn’t want him thinking they were analyzing, evaluating every move he made. Didn’t really work—they’d be doing it anyway.
Standing by the door in a sheer pink babydoll dress that barely skimmed her ass and matching sorry excuse for panties was Cosima. The gossamer fabric was contrasted by black ribbon trim with bows nestled between her tits, on the front of her panties, and on the back right above a little keyhole. The cuffs he’d given her were buckled around her wrists. They were perfect on her—thick and sturdy and heavy. He hoped they would remind her of who she belonged to, in contrast to the floaty little fairy outfit Ian and Hudson had put her in.
He didn’t generally care much for lingerie—what was the point? He was just going to get his partner naked within minutes anyhow—but he might change his mind with how sexy and vulnerable it made Cosima look. More naked than naked with the way he could see her nipples poking at the gauzy panels of the top, how it emphasized the nip in of her waist and the slight flare of her hips.
“Cosima. Here, now,” he snapped, pointing to the floor at his feet. Her lips parted and her eyes widened as she walked toward him and then sunk gracefully to her knees precisely where he’d indicated.
He pinched her chin between thumb and forefinger and tipped her head up so she was forced to meet his gaze.
“You’re mine tonight, understand? Hudson and Ian are right next door, but you don’t think about them because you don’t belong to them right now. You obeyme.You bend forme.You break forme.”
She nodded as much as his grip on her chin would allow and he let go to run his hand through her hair. It was longer now, clean and glossy. Enjoyable to spear his fingers through before making a fist close to her scalp. She whimpered when he did but not from fear.
Her pupils blew wide and her full lips parted. Fuck, he was in so much trouble.
* * *
Cosima
With his grip on her scalp, Ryker drew her head further back. It was uncomfortable but didn’t feel dangerous. Well, maybe a little but in a thrilling, off-balance way not in a he-meant-to-injure-her way.
“Playing with me is not like playing with Hudson and Ian. I’m not here to coddle you. I’m here to hurt you. A lot. As much as you can take. But I promise I won’t harm you. If this gets too much or too dark for you at anytime just say the word and it’s over. You have nothing to prove to me or anyone else.”
Ryker’s grey eyes in the low light made everything seem monochromatic which was odd, seeing as how Cosima felt she was bursting with color on the inside. “I…I like to be hurt. I like it rough. Harsh.”
Was there such a thing as grey diamonds? Because if so, Ryker’s eyes sparkled like she imagined they would. Possessive, eager, predatory. Made her breasts ache and her pussy feel empty.
“You need harsh? I can be harsh, but I will never treat you like he did, ever.”
Judah’s name went unspoken and she was glad for it. Glad, too, that Ryker hadn’t called him her master. It had been true to her but she almost liked the way Daddy and Papa and now Ryker tried to drill it into her head that he hadn’t been a good master and didn’t deserve the title.
“Hucows and piglets and puppy play are one thing but he didn’t even treat you like livestock. I am all about choices but he is not a choice you’re allowed to make. Ever. Whether you’re mine or not. Do you understand? He was going to kill you eventually and that’s not acceptable.”
It made her stomach clench, the way he’d just outright said it. Most people danced around it but not Ryker. He just stuck the knife right in and she didn’t mind the shaky adrenaline rush as the poison seeped out from where he’d lanced the wound. It was the truth, she knew it in her bones. She nodded.
“No.” Ryker shook his head, his hair flicking around his collar, and then grabbed her chin, hard. “Nodding is not good enough for this. You’ll be nodding later when I’ve stuffed a gag in your mouth, but right now, you say it out loud. Say ‘yes’.”
“Yes,” she managed, softly, her throat feeling like it wasn’t letting quite enough air get to her lungs.
Ryker shook his head again and panic gripped her. She’d done what he asked, what else did he want from her? She couldn’t mess this up, couldn’t.
This was her shot to get him to see she could be right for him—be right for all of them. This was her chance to make sure she never had to leave here, leave them.
If she could get Ryker to to see that she could be good for him, maybe he would want to keep her. Maybe he would—someday, maybe, possibly—love her. But if she screwed this up…
“You say yes tome, little one. You say ‘Yes, Sir.’”
Cosima felt lightheaded all of a sudden. She loved Daddy and Papa, loved how they spoiled and babied her, coddled and cosseted her. And she didn’t miss Judah, not really. He had been cruel and abusive. He hadn’t cared about her, he had done some truly terrible things and allowed other people to hurt her—in ways she would have said no to if no had been an option. But there was something about the strict, menacing gleam in Ryker’s steely eyes that made her stomach go sublimely watery.
There was something delicious about being hurt, something about the pain that she liked to hold on her tongue and savor. And something else about being able to stand up to any sensations someone could heap upon her. She might cry or gasp or scream or pass out but she could take it. She’d proved that, hadn’t she? By surviving Judah? There was a satisfaction, pride even, in being able to withstand even the harshest treatment, excruciating pain. Who didn’t like to feel smug every now and again?
Plus, she suspected she could actually please Ryker whereas she’d never pleased Judah. Sir’s approval and praise—no matter how abrupt or spare—would be the sweetest thing she’d ever taste.
So she let her mouth form around those two syllables, made sure to separate them with a split second of silence so she had the pleasure of saying that duet of intoxicating words. Making sure she watched Ryker’s expression so she could obsess over it, squeeze every drop of pleasure there was to be gleaned from it and hoard them in the most depraved depths of her soul.
“Yes, Sir.”