He holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m going. Just remember that that’s what she is: a job. A slave to be sold. She’s not your pet. She’s a commodity. And soon, she’ll be the end to all of our problems.”
He brushes past, blowing smoke in my face, and knocks my shoulder as he leaves. A moment later, the front door slams behind him. I upend the chair in front of me and kick the shit out of it. Then I run my hands through my hair and take several deep breaths, watching Pet on the monitor.
Her body is curled in a fetal position, her black hair splayed across the pillow like a spill of ink on parchment. She hasn’t moved since I left her. She’s too good. Too perfect, and far too tender-hearted to be my plaything. To be Vladik’s. He’ll break her in ways that I would never dream of. My gut twists in knots, and bile rises in my throat. I’m losing my fucking mind. My grip on reality. Hermes is right; she’s a slave. Soon she’ll be someone else’s slave. And the idea of that eats me alive.
I pour myself a drink from the decanter on the desk and set the chair to rights as I watch her on the monitor.So fucking precious.So fucking mine. I pull up the computer screen and find the camera I want. I hit the pause button, and the footage of her room turns to black-and-white fuzz. Satisfied, I get up, knock back the rest of my whiskey, and head back to her. No doubt Hermes will have questions as to why I stopped the recording, but he can kiss my ass.
I scan my handprint and walk through the door. Pet doesn’t stir, so I stride toward her and pull back the sheet.
“Wake up, Pet,” I say, as I straddle her hips, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her awake.
She groans and attempts to sit, but I slide my hand into her hair and crush my mouth to hers. She makes a startled sound, and I shove my tongue inside. It quickly turns to a moan.Fuck. I’m breaking all the goddamn rules, and I don’t give a shit. Like a good little slave, she keeps her hands by her side because I haven’t given her permission to touch me.
I break the kiss and slide off her body, tugging the sheet from the bed. I roll it up and bind her wrists together, securing them to the headboard. I shove her knees towards her breasts and lower my head to her cunt. She’s so fucking wet for me. So hot, and so mine. I slide my tongue over her, one long, dirty lick from asshole to clit. I seal my lips over her clit and suck, and when her legs are quivering, her hole clenching, I bury my face in her and lick, suck, and bite. I eat her pussy like a starving man, until she is screaming and begging to be released. I let her come on my face, and then I tear off my jeans and plunge into her. She milks my dick. Her breaths are sharp and shallow. Her pussy muscles grip me so fucking hard I could blow my load in three seconds flat, but I grit my teeth and draw on everything I’ve learned in my time as a Dom about patience, stamina, and the importance of not giving into instant gratification. I take her hard. I fuck her rough, and when she begs to come again, I make her fucking wait for it.
“Ares,” she whispers my name like a prayer. I should reprimand her for that. Instead, I kiss her deeply, knowing she can taste her sweet cunt on my tongue, wanting her to be as consumed by this need, by her pleasure and pain as I am.
I fuck her until we’re both grunting, panting animals so consumed with need and carnality. I fuck her hard and deep, until we’re both raw, and I can’t come anymore.
I fuck her for the last time, and when I’m done I wrap her in my arms because she’smine. My Pet. And I don’t know how to give her up to someone else.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Pet
Iwake to a fingertrailing softly along the line of my hip. I arch back into his touch. I love it when he wakes me like this, with reverent strokes, his erection at my back, and caresses that trail all the way up my body to my hairline. I let out a sleepy moan and snuggle farther into the bed and his warmth behind me.
“Time to get up.”
“Please, Sir, just five more minutes,” I beg in a sleepy tone, closing my eyes and snuggling closer. His hand snakes around my waist in a vice grip.
“I said, it’s time to get up, bitch,” he hisses in my ear.
My hair stands on end. The hand cupping my breast feels alien as he pinches my nipple. It’s careless, lacking finesse, and not at all familiar.
I swallow hard and attempt to roll over, but he won’t let me. His hand shoves between my thighs, stroking me with brutal abandon. More careless touches that I know now could never belong to Ares. His arms are covered by a long-sleeve button-up, and I see now there’s no ink anywhere in sight.