He chuckles darkly. It makes all the hairs on my body stand on end. “Then you’re stupid.”
His mouth comes down on my breast, and he bites so hard I see pain—colored like burnished amber, glowing hot, and oh, so real.I will not cry. I refuse to cry. He’d enjoy that too much.
Finally, Ares relinquishes my breast, and the tears spill over my cheeks anyway. God, I hate him. When I glance down, the place where he bit me is already purple, a brand on my flesh.Hisbrand.
“You want to fight me, call me names, kick and buck like a wild animal? You go right ahead, but there are consequences to your actions, Pet.” He says my nickname as if it were a curse. “And trust me when I tell you that you will not like those consequences.”
“Do it!” I snap and shove at his chest. “Anything is better than being collared and chained at your feet.”
“Anything? Why don’t we see about that?” He grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me off the bed. I scream, desperately grappling at his hands, his wrists, sinking my nails into his ropey forearms. I have no choice but to walk with him as he opens the door and pushes out into the hall. He drags me to the top of the stairs, and pulls me down each one, unconcerned that I trip and stumble. Through a curtain of hair, I catch a glimpse of the other Masters. They stand around sipping champagne, their bodies turned toward us. No doubt salivating at the prospect of another show.
The pain in my scalp is excruciating. Ares drags me down each step, and releases me on the marble floor. I throw out my arms to catch my fall. The shock is jarring.
“Kneel!”
I sob and scramble into position at his feet, my face covered by my hair and my back to the other Masters. I don’t turn to look at them, I can’t, but I can feel them crowding around us, no doubt wondering what theatre we’ll provide for them this time.
“Israel,” Ares says.
“Yes, Sir.”
“On your knees.”
A hint of a smile tips the man’s lips. His eyes are bright with excitement. “Yes, Master.”
I glance up at Ares who appears larger than life with his bulky frame, murderous gaze, and heaving chest. He’s a demon, a vengeful god. He’s not watching Israel. His eyes are burning with ire, and he’s looking at me as if he could raze me where I kneel. “Take out my cock, and suck.”
My sharp inhalation fills the room. He can’t really mean that, can he? While I’m sitting right here? While everyone else crowds us?
And then it dawns on me. He doesn’t care about the audience. He doesn’t give a shit about any of them. This little scene is for my benefit only. So I can understand the true value of my life.It’s nothing. I am nothing. A possession, a slave . . . a series of fuck-holes, as he so eloquently put it.
“Yes, Sir,” Israel’s reply is covetous. I suddenly hate this man, this slave beside me.
He unzips Ares’ fly and slides his hand inside, pulling out my Sir’s long, hard cock. Is this why he hasn’t fucked me? Does he prefer men?
Israel opens his mouth and takes Ares inside, sucking him deep and fast, so much more brutally than I ever would. Sir grabs the man’s hair and fucks his mouth, and though Israel gags, he doesn’t need Ares to tell him to breathe. Ares doesn’t need to coach him through it because he’s already been properly trained. Israel has already given over to the belief that he is a slave, and that’s all he is.
Ares groans, low and animalistic, and it’s such a contrast from my desperate sobs. He fucks the man’s mouth, and he keeps his eyes on me the entire time. “That’s it. Suck my dick, you little whore. You like that, don’t you? When I fill your mouth with my cock? When I fuck your face?”
Israel nods, all while his head bobs back and forth with the force of Ares’ thrusts.
I cry harder, reach out, fingering the fabric of Sir’s suit pants, wedging between them and wrapping my arm around his leg possessively. He glares and shakes me off like a dog, forcing Israel to make ungodly choking sounds.
“No! You do not get to touch me,” Ares snaps, though his voice is thick with desire, with the need to come.
He pulls out of Israel’s mouth violently and jerks his dick hard until his cum spills over the other man’s face. Israel holds out his tongue for the offering, and then licks up every drop. Worse still, after he swallows, he whispers low, his voice thick with adoration, “Thank you, Sir.”
I hate them both. I want to scream. I want to hit and brutalize Ares the way he’s destroyed me, but I don’t.
I sit quietly with my head bowed, watching my tears pool on the marble floor. Ares grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head up until I meet his gaze. “You see, Pet? You’re just a possession, a plaything, and I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with you, when I want.”
“Israel,” Ares snaps as he tucks himself inside his pants and zips his fly. “Bring me a chair.”
“Yes, Sir.” The slave climbs to his feet and hurries through the doors, returning a beat later with one of the chairs from the dining room.
“I’m going to spank you, Pet, and I want you to count after each strike.” He leans down and whispers, “You should think yourself fucking lucky that I’m not handing you over to any one of these fine gentlemen, because I can tell you right now, none of them would stop until you were bleeding.”
The breath catches in the back of my throat.