“Well, you know how it is with fresh meat. It needs an awful lot of tenderizing.” He pinches my bruised ass hard, and I yelp. Ares shoots me a disapproving look that says I should know not to make noise unless I’m told. I cast my eyes downward as the men chuckle.
“You really should take it easy on her. The poor thing looks worn out. And those stripes on her ass weren’t there yesterday.”
“You sound as if you’re growing soft in your old age, Texas.”
The fat man chuckles, his jowls wobbling in time with his huge rotund belly, and I wonder how he even has sex at all, or if he just likes to dress human slaves up as ponies and parade them around a track. Does he mount them in their stables? Oh god, do they sleep out here? I gaze at the stable, and then quickly away, but it’s obvious Texas caught my line of sight. “You know, your Pet would look just divine with a bit in her mouth.”
Ares chuckles. “My Pet looks exquisite in everything . . . and nothing at all.”
“Yes, she does.” Texas licks his lips, his eyes roaming every inch of my body. I’m so used to being naked now that kneeling on all fours out here on this man’s porch surrounded by predatory eyes doesn’t upset me the way it would have several months ago. “Are you sure you won’t consider my offer? I’d be willing to double it.”
“She’s not for sale,” Ares says, rather abruptly.
Texas holds up his hands in supplication. “I meant no offence Master Muerte. Surely you can see how appetizing a little peach like your Pet is to the rest of us?”
Ares rolls his eyes, but the hard edge to his expression has softened somewhat. “Dangle fresh meat before the wolves.”
Texas chuckles. “Exactly. But come, you and I have business to discuss.”
“Later. I’m not leaving Pet alone.”
“Surely your brother will tend to her needs in your absence.”
My heart seizes.No, no, no, no, no. Don’t give me to him. Anyone but him.
Ares laughs. “The only need my brother cares about is ensuring his bank balance stays fat with money from men like you. He’d sell her to the highest bidder as soon as my back was turned.”
“Then let Israel take her to the stables. I’m afraid what we must discuss is rather pressing.”
Ares turns and glances over his shoulder. Israel holds a tray filled with champagne flutes. He dutifully ignores the older man in front of him who’s fondling his penis as he reaches for a glass with the other hand.
I inhale sharply, surprised Texas is allowing such treatment of his possession. Ares almost killed the colonel yesterday for touching me without permission.
“Israel.” Texas beckons the younger man closer with a crook of his finger. “Come.”
“Yes, Master.” He moves with the kind of fluid grace and good posture I wouldn’t have expected any slave to possess. How can one move so freely when they’re shackled to another? Israel is as much a possession as I am. Though he walks without chains, they’re still tethered to every one of his limbs. Not his heart, though; that appears to still belong tomyMaster.
“Israel, show Master Muerte’s Pet here through the stables.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“No touching,” Ares snaps, glaring at the slave. “If she comes back with a single mark on her body that wasn’t put there by my hand, I will personally hold you responsible.”
He bows his head and lowers his gaze. “I’ll see that she is not harmed.”
Ares hooks his fingers in Israel’s collar and draws the man flush against his body. Jealousy worms its way through my gut. “See that she is not touched at all. I know what you slaves get up to in that stable when your Masters are not bearing witness.”
Israel’s breath is shallow, his pupils dilated. “You have my word, Sir.”
Ares releases the man and turns his dark, hollow eyes on me. “Pet, on your feet. Stay close to Israel. You are not permitted to touch or be touched. You are not permitted to leave his sight. You may speak though.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Ares pinches the bridge of his nose. “Go before I change my mind.”
Unease prickles down my spine. I shiver.He’s letting me take a walk around the grounds without him? Why? He’s barely let me out of his sight since the first day I woke in that cell. Texas chuckles, and Israel turns on his heel and walks away with long, graceful strides. I’m a good two feet shorter than him, so I practically have to run to keep up.
Icy wind cuts me right to the core, when I follow him off the porch, and the frosty path stings my feet. Halfway to the stable, I reach out and grab his arm in an effort to get him to slow down. He yanks out of my grasp so abruptly and violently that I take a step back.