I smooth my hands down over her breasts and sink my fingers into her flesh. “We are not talking any more about Israel. He doesn’t exist for you outside of this house—are we clear? You will think only of him when it aids in your training, but I do not want another word said about Israel and me or my love for him. When I said I was incapable of it, I meant it. You have as much of me as I can give, and it’s more than I’ve given anyone my whole life.”
“But you said—”
“Not another word, Pet,” I order, fed up with the badgering. “I will gag you again if you force my hand. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I slap the outside of her thigh and she squeaks and drums her heels on the floor.
If she only knew no one else exists for me anymore.No one comes close.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Pet
Four days. Israel hadbeen here only four days, and I want to murder him. I hate the way he looks at my Sir, and the way he preens when Ares tells him he’s a good boy, or when he stares at me with a licentious gaze while his mouth is wrapped around my Sir’s cock. I especially hate the way he moans when Ares makes him eat me out. As if he isn’t being forced to do it or risk a beating.
But the very worst thing about Israel being here is that, little by little, I can see why Ares fell for him in the first place. He’s charming as fuck, talented with his hands, and knows how to inflict the right amount of pain and pleasure that keeps me coming until my Sir says stop. He’d make a fantastic Dom, if he didn’t love to serve so much.
Ares pulls me up by the hair and leads me to the middle of the room to a dome-shaped ottoman. Israel kneels beside it, naked, his erect cock jutting proudly out from his body. I try to avert my eyes, but I can’t look away. He’s beautiful with the leanly muscled build of a swimmer, so different from Ares. He’s also uncut, and a perverse part of me wonders what he’d feel like coming down my throat.
Ares’ grip tightens in my hair as he follows my line of sight. “See something you like, little one?”
My cheeks flame. “No, Sir.”
“Liar.” My deceit earns me a sharp slap to the rump. “On your back, little one. Arms, head, legs, and feet on the floor.”
“Yes, Sir.” I bend myself over the furniture. It’s small, and lying across it like this leaves only my midsection and ass supported. Ares unravels a short bundle of rope, and fists my hair in his hand. Without being told to, Israel crawls to my Sir’s side and hands over the line, then he takes hold of the ponytail Ares created and ties the length around my hair, pulling tightly on the long ends. I gasp, my instinct to grab his hands and pull my hair free, but I can’t do that. My Sir won’t be happy.
“Going into Vladik’s house, you will need to be prepared for anything. Are you ready for that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“We’ll see.” Ares comes around the ottoman and grabs hold of a shiny spreader bar with ropes tied to the end. He fastens each one around my ankles, and tethers more rope to a ring in the ceiling. I can’t move my legs. They’re thrust up in the air, and no amount of wriggling will help free me. My arms and head are secured with more rope so I’m pinned down and spread out, just the way my Master likes me.
“Israel?” Ares’ voice is cunning from behind my legs—I can’t see on account of being tied to the floor, but I know that tone. “Get me the Hitachi in the top drawer.”