Collateral Damage (8 page)

Sliding from my chair, I lowered to my knees and then placed my hands, palms up, on my thighs. The tiny trembles running through me diminished. I bowed my head and steadied my breathing. A sense of calm washed over me.

His presence wrapped around me the way his arms did every night. I kept my head down. I'd done my part. The rest was up to him.

"Lovely." He spoke in the deep, rumbling tone he used whenever I pleased him.

The tone I'd come to value as much as his rare smiles. "There's nothing more precious than willing submission. I'm honored that you've chosen to give it to me, Nicole."

Speechless, I lifted my head and stared at him. From what he'd said about me belonging to him, I figured he'd taken my submission for granted. It wasn't as though I had a ton of options.

"There are always options." Little creases formed around his eyes as his smile broadened. "You could go through the motions and have them mean nothing. I was willing to accept that for a while. But after seeing how Cyrus' woman gives everything to him I'd hoped . . . ." He shook his head. "Never mind. I've brought you something.

And now I think you've earned it."

I watched him walk across the room and set a bottle of something on the small table between the two leather chairs at the far end of the room. He placed a glass beside the bottle. Then he sat and quickly filled the glass with amber liquid.

"Brandy." He said in response to my questioning gaze. "I trust you ate well today, as I asked?"

He never ordered me to eat—not after the first time he'd threatened to force me.

And I'd managed to get around the sick feeling I got whenever I forced myself to eat three solid meals. His not-so-subtle hints that I wouldn't be very much good to Alrik if I didn't maintain my strength gave me plenty of motivation. I didn't enjoy the food, but I could stomach it.

Brow furrowed, I circled my index finger over my thumb and nodded.

"Good. Then come here." He pointed to the floor by his feet. "I think you'll enjoy this."

The muscles in my thighs tensed as I prepared to stand. Then I glanced up at him and put my hands on the floor. His brows arched as I crawled to him. I grinned and made my movements sensuous.

He let out a low growl. "Tease."

Still smiling, I settled by his feet and tossed my hair. "No, sir. I simply aim to please."

"I wouldn't go that far." He handed me the glass, then stroked my hair as I took a tentative sip. "Do you like it?"

The raw flavor of sour fruit burst on my tongue, and I moaned. This was the good stuff. The kind I bought myself when I could justify the expense. A treat after a raise or when I lost a few excess pounds.

"Mmm. How did you—no, don't answer that." I took another big sip, and my eyes rolled back in my head. "This is . . . thank you."

"You're very welcome." He stroked the column of my throat. "If I tell you I expect something in return . . . ."

"I don't care." I really didn't. I could already feel a bit of a buzz. I drained the glass and absorbed the glorious burn as the last drop drizzled down my throat. "You didn't have to give me this."

"Actually, I did. But I'd hoped choosing something you'd like would make it special."

Oh, I hate when you say things like that.

Then he said something worse.

"More?"

"Please." I held up the glass, wondering just what I'd have to do to get him to give me the bottle. Where it could take me was worth just about anything. I'd drained about half the refill before I considered what the price for this might be. "Should I strip?"

He laughed. "No, my sweet. You look perfect as you are." He sighed and shook his head. "But please remove the jacket. I'd hate to stain it."

Stain it?
My fingers shook as I undid the buttons to the white suit jacket he'd given me that morning. He always insisted I dress as I would at the daycare—without the smock—when I did lessons with Alrik. I didn't mind him picking my clothes out for me. The outfits were always nice. And he provided jogging suits and comfy PJs to sleep in. As long as I was allowed to wear clothes, I wasn't fussy about them.

But this was the first time he'd worried about something he'd do staining my clothes. I took off the jacket and placed it in his extended hand. Then my hands went to the collar of my black, silk shirt.

"Come here." He patted his lap.

Licking my lips, my stomach getting a little fluttery, I climbed up into his lap.

"Relax." He positioned me so I was on my side, facing him, my legs over one arm of the chair, my head rested on the other. "This will only hurt for a second."

Before I could ask why, his lips drifted over my throat. He laid soft kisses over my pulse, opened his mouth, increased the pressure. A slight piercing pain and then . . .

then . . . .

I couldn't describe the sensation. The only thing that came to mind was having him sucking on my clit as he had days before. As the suctions increased, I became a liquid thing, oil under a spark, flaring, rippling spreading. I writhed and gasped and clung to him, my hand delving into his hair as his tongue prodded my flesh. I tightened my grip when he tried to draw away, whispering wordless protests. Moisture spilled slick between my thighs, and I suddenly, desperately needed him there, deep inside me.

"No, Nicole." Vince pushed my hands down to my sides and pulled me up, cradling me, ignoring my struggles. "You'll resent me if I take advantage of you now.

Just give yourself a—"

Shaking my head, I wiggled away from him and dropped to my knees. Fumbled with his zipper. He was already hard. If I could convince him to forget being all noble maybe he would—his dick filled my hands, and I slipped my lips over the hot, swollen head.

"Sweetie . . . oh yes." His hands gripped the arms of the chair as I circled his dick with my tongue. "Yes. Do that a little longer, and I will forget."

Working his dick with my hands and mouth, I sucked and bobbed my head, slowing to use my tongue and gauge his responses. As I lapped up the smooth underside of him I tasted precum.

"I'm close." He let out a little growl and touched my cheek. "This one time, I will give you the choice. Stop and let me fuck you, or continue and I will come in your mouth and return the favor."

No choice necessary. I continued, needing to see him come apart, needing the power he was giving me. As he tensed up, I took him deep in my throat, swallowing, increasing the pressure to savor his twitching. He tugged my hair when I grazed him with my teeth, and I released him.

"My turn." He stood and swooped me up, then carried me across the room and dropped me on Cyrus' desk. Throwing my legs over his shoulders, he bowed between my thighs and bit me right through my panties.
Bit me
.

My hips rocked up and down as pleasure erupted. I'd just reached the first climax when he tore my panties and then dipped his fingers inside me. I screamed as he brought me up and over, again and again, using his tongue and teeth on my clit, plunging his fingers into me, deeper and deeper until I could feel all his knuckles straining against me.

Another fierce blast of heat and I collapsed onto the desk, utterly drained. He withdrew his fingers, licked them clean, and then delicately cleaned me with his tongue until I whimpered, so sensitive even the gentle touch was painful.

"Vince." I giggled when he set his teeth into one of my outer lips and gently tugged. "Ah! Please, I can't take anymore!"

Giving me a lazy smile, he propped himself up on his elbows and rested his chin on my bunched-up skirt, just above my stomach. "We'll have to work on your endurance then."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to what you can do with your mouth." I worried my bottom lip with my teeth. My mind was trying to make sense of what he'd done.

"You bit me."

A cold laugh came from the doorway. "Twice."

Cyrus.
I clamped my legs shut as Vince straightened and stood in front of me.

Standing, I hooked my fingers to the back of Vince's belt to let him know I really wanted him to stay where he was. He didn't move.

"How selfish of you, Vincent." Cyrus clucked his tongue as he strolled around us.

He lowered to his chair behind the desk and leaned back with his arms folded over his chest. "Unless I want to drain her past the point of quick recovery, I can't possibly have a taste."

"I wasn't aware I had to share her every time." Vince reached back and put his hand over mine, giving them a little squeeze. "Besides, this was a reward. She's doing well."

"Is she?" Cyrus bent over the desk and picked up my lesson plans. "I see. You're already at Act Two. Alrik has read all this?"

"No. Nicole is reading it to him . . . he finds the words rather difficult." Vince said.

"Indeed. But he is following the story?" Cyrus slapped the book on the desk and stood. "Wait, don't answer. I already know. He told Lacy he really, really likes Miss Reed, but he hates doing lessons with her because they're so boring. I wouldn't call that doing well."

"Y—" I swallowed a yelp as Vince dug his fingers into my wrists.

"You chose
Hamlet
, Cyrus." Vince unhooked my hands from his belt and approached the desk, bracing his hands on the edge as he faced Cyrus. "I hated it when I was a boy. My teacher did everything she could to make it interesting, but she failed.

However, she excelled at other things, so you decided to keep her around. For a very long time." His tone took on a bitter edge. "I've decided to do the same with Nicole."

"You've decided?" The way Cyrus' eyes narrowed at Vince made me want to drag him out of the room and tell him to run. Then Cyrus came toward us, and I figured the smart thing would be for me to run. I felt like I was standing in front of an oncoming train with someone who thought he could take it.

Good luck with that. I'll write you a nice eulogy.

But logic couldn't make me leave Vince. Not when he'd stuck up for me. So I stayed, watching the standoff, a flimsy show of support.

"She's getting to you, isn't she?" Cyrus patted Vince's cheek, hard enough that it was almost a slap. "You like the idea of owning her, don't you? The idea means more to you than your loyalty to me."

"I have proven my loyalty." Vince said through his teeth.

"That you have, and I hate to doubt it." Cyrus leaned against the desk and let out a heavy sigh. "Very well, let her prove to me how she's excelled. Get the bitch to strip and bend over this desk. Make her please me as much as she has you."

"I've been working on her other skills. Any cunt can be fucked."

"Really? I'm intrigued." Cyrus glanced over at me, his lips drawn into a thin line.

"Show me."

Before I could move, Vince grabbed my wrist and gave me a look that said, clearly, "you don't have to." I didn't understand. What choice did either of us have?

Unless he was ready to take Cyrus out . . . .

"So far, I'm not impressed." Cyrus said.

You've come so far.
I twisted my wrist free from Vince's grip and shook my head.

Something, deep inside, told me this wasn't the right time. Told me Vince couldn't take Cyrus. Why ruin all the progress I'd made? He wasn't ready . . . but he was getting there.

"Sir?" I said, letting that one word say everything.
Tell me what I need to do to prove
your claims.

The indecision in Vince's eyes nearly did me in. I'd gotten used to him being in charge. But now that power belonged to Cyrus. And so far I'd only done one thing that proved how I'd surrendered mine to Vince.

I can do that.
I prayed Vince caught the thought.

He did.

"You may show him." Vince inclined his head.

I went to Cyrus, knelt, and reached for his zipper.

"There's a good girl." Cyrus shifted so the desk took most of his weight as I exposed his dick. "Maybe you're right, Vincent. There are plenty of woman for me to use—only mine, and apparently yours, give me what I want so willingly."

His words meant nothing. Less than nothing. I did this for Vince.

Cyrus's cock was long, but Vince's was thicker. I hadn't really paid attention while I'd had Vince in my mouth, but some perverse part of me needed to compare them, to show me how Cyrus was less than the man who'd called me his. I used my hands to guide the cold, hard dick into my mouth and went to my pretend world. Made Cyrus some guy I'd met. I'd do my best to get him off with my mouth so I could send him away. The chemistry just wasn't there.

"No hands." Cyrus latched on to the back of my head and shoved his dick in deep enough to make me gag. "Just take it, bitch."

The way he fucked my mouth felt like he was punishing me. His pelvis slammed against my face; his dick lodged in my throat. But as I did my best to relax around him, to focus on breathing and not throwing up, I noticed he didn't look at me at all. His eyes were on Vince.

"She's good with instructions." Cyrus rammed in hard, his breaths speeding up even as he forced more of himself into my mouth. "And not a whiner. I like that. Maybe you're right. Maybe she is worth keeping."

With one last brutal thrust, Cyrus spurted his cum in my throat. He released me and tucked himself away, emotionless and efficient, like what had happened was as routine as taking a piss.

"I want her back in her own room by morning. Lacy will join her . . . perhaps she can teach her a few things." He strode up to Vince and latched on to his nape. "But in the end, I won't treat her any different than the others. If Alrik picks one of the others—

who are doing a better job teaching him, mind you—then she goes to the arena." Cyrus pressed his lips to Vince's, kissing him, like a death kiss you'd see in a mafia movie . . .

only with something more behind it. "You may join her if you'd like."

"Don't." Vince's eyes pressed shut as Cyrus stroked his chest. He sounded just like I had that first time . . . .

"Don't?" Cyrus laughed and flicked the flap of Vince's still open pants with his finger. "Do you know how weak you sound, boy? Do you remember what we do to the weak?"