Guilty Pleasures (15 page)

“Tell me why. This can’t just be about being anti-social. You could avoid the other girls by ignoring them and going about your business. Others here do.”

Vivian stared at some point on the tiled floor on the other end of the room. She took a long time to answer, but Gabe didn’t push. He seemed willing to wait forever for her to find a coherent order for the jumbled thoughts in her brain. Finally, she took a deep breath.

“It’s too hard to live both ways. Feeling like property and also feeling like a guest. You’ve made my situation clear. If I’m property, I can’t stand to feel like I have more freedom than I really have.”

“You have the freedom we grant you. Once you’re sold and have bonded fully to your new master, it’s unlikely you’ll be locked in a cage all the time. It isn’t practical. You need to be able to handle the illusion of freedom. If we keep you locked in a room all day, how can you learn that?”

“You’re leaving Sabrina locked in a room,” she countered, hoping it didn’t sound petulant.

“I’m sorry, Vivian. We aren’t going to cater to your every whim. Go get your breakfast before the kitchen closes.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She started toward the door, but Gabe grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. His lips caressed the corner of her mouth, and he whispered in her ear, “Don’t let yourself become like Sabrina because you’re afraid of this process. Your world is over. You’re in ours now.”

His hand slipped down to fondle her ass, and she dropped her head on his shoulder. Then his fingers moved underneath her gym shorts to stroke at the already moistening skin. It took little for Gabe to turn her on. She’d felt the chemistry between them the moment he’d first touched her.

He pulled away and gave her a little swat on the ass.

“Go.”

Vivian wobbled, disoriented, then watched as he sucked the finger that had been inside her panties. She left while she still had the ability to walk.

TWELVE

The cafeteria was empty when Vivian returned. She filled another plate, poured a glass of orange juice, then went to sit in a chair at one of the deserted tables.

She was midway through breakfast when she suddenly felt watched and looked up. Lindsay stood in the doorway.

She’d long given up thinking of him as Dr. Smith. Even if he was really a therapist, she couldn’t see him that way anymore, and was grateful she was expected to call him Sir. It felt emotionally safer.

He stalked her, his movements sleek and lithe. The lines of his suit flowed off his frame like water, the same style he’d worn the day she’d met him in the office with all the orchids. Valentino.

He pulled a chair up behind her and sat with his legs wrapping around hers. She tensed at the intimate gesture.

“Eat, Vivian,” he whispered in her ear.

She took another bite of pancakes as he spread her limbs apart.

“Keep your legs nice and wide for me.”

“Someone might come in.”

“If they do, I’ll tell them to leave.”

He gripped the front of her throat possessively, pulling her back against him. The grip wasn’t tight enough that she couldn’t eat. He was just sending her a message.

Vivian’s hand shook as she put the glass of juice to her mouth. She winced when the acidic beverage touched her lip.

“Do you need water, instead?”

“Yes, Sir.”

She heard the chair scrape out and experienced a momentary relief as he left and gave her space. The feeling was cut short a few minutes later when he placed a glass of cold water in front of her, then returned to his former position.

He used one hand to lightly stroke the front of her throat, while the other moved down to her shorts.

She tried to focus on her meal, but she couldn’t taste any of the food. Her world had been narrowed to what was going on between her legs as Lindsay fingered her. That, and watching the door, paranoid someone would walk in.

She managed to get through her breakfast, hovering on the edge of orgasm, holding back the moans that were relentless in their quest to bubble to the surface. When she’d eaten the last bit of fruit off her plate, Lindsay’s lips grazed the side of her ear.

“I told you you would lose all your inhibitions.”

“Fuck you.”

The doctor had always rubbed her the wrong way.
With the exception of right now
, her increasingly perverted brain supplied. His fingers hadn’t gone underneath her panties. Instead, they’d played softly over the cotton material, driving her even crazier than skin on skin contact would have.

He laughed at her helpless squirming as she struggled to escape his touch. His fingers pressed harder, causing her to respond more than she wanted to.

“It’s always a challenge,” he said, “to know how much of a slave’s fire to extinguish, and how much to let burn for the enjoyment of her future master.”

She bucked against him, struggling to free herself but only succeeding in causing his fingers to rub against her clit faster. She came without warning, shuddering helplessly in his arms. When her orgasm had run its course, she sagged against him, panting.

“That’s the orgasm you wanted in the coat room, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her cheeks were burning so much she knew they must be bright red, and anyone who might pass by the open doorway would see how embarrassed he’d made her. The thought of someone else seeing her so uncomfortable upset her more than them seeing her have an orgasm or give one to someone else.

Lindsay helped her to her feet. She didn’t say a word as he ushered her down the hallway and back to her room. When they got there, Brian was sitting at the foot of the bed, his cock jutting out of the top of his unbuttoned pants.

The doctor nudged her into the room. “Crawl to him.” His voice was so hard and guttural it made her jump.

“But . . . Gabe said . . . ”

“I don’t care what he said. Gabe isn’t here right now.”

She didn’t know why Brian unnerved her so much. Maybe it was the way others acted around him, as if he were someone especially to be feared. She let out a piercing scream, hoping Gabe would hear.

Lindsay’s hand clamped around her mouth. “I guess we’ll have to gag you.”

Brian spoke up from the bed. “She’ll be useless to me, gagged.” He pulled a little remote from his pocket and pressed a button.

Vivian jerked and spasmed in Lindsay’s arms, her eyes widening as she looked at the dark-haired man on the bed. He nodded at the metal cuff around her wrist. The one that prevented her from leaving the grounds.

“That was a low-level shock. Call for help again, and you’ll get more.”

Vivian nodded quickly. She dropped to the floor and crawled to him, a knot forming in her stomach. When she reached his feet, she waited, her eyes downcast.

“I was just with a very dirty slut who humped my boot until she came shouting my name. I’ll whip her for not using proper address later. I need you to clean them for me.”

Her eyes jerked up to meet his. A slow smile spread across his face as he nodded. “Yes, exactly in the way you think.”

When she hesitated, he ran a finger over the remote control. “Vivian, darling, I can give you much harder shocks. What you got was mild.”

The threat snapped her out of indecision. She bent and trailed her tongue over the leather, tasting the other woman’s juices. She felt Lindsay move behind her and pull down her shorts. A moment later a thin, lubed dildo was being worked slowly inside her ass.

“Relax,” he said as he guided the toy gently in and out of her. She did, and was shocked to find the sensation somewhat pleasurable. If it had just been her and Lindsay in the room, despite her general distaste for him, she could have coped. But Brian was in front of her calling her a dirty boot-licking slut, asking her to tell him how much she enjoyed shining his boots for him.

He’d started moving, and she could tell by the angle of his body and the rhythmic sound of the mattress, that he was jerking off over her. He came a few moments later as the door slammed against the wall.

She turned to see Gabe standing in the doorway, looking so livid she wanted to crawl under the bed for fear it might be directed at her. But his gaze was leveled on Brian.

“I thought I made it clear you were not to touch her,” he said, his voice so enraged it shook.

Lindsay had removed the toy from her ass, and she crawled away from both of them to Gabe, until she was leaning against his leg. His hand moved to pet the top of her head.

“Fuck, Gabe. What’s so special about this one?” Brian groused.

“She was brought here too soon. If you dumb asses push her too hard before she’s ready, she won’t be fit to sell, and Anton will have all of our heads. Now get out.”

Vivian cringed as Brian stood and zipped himself back up.

“What the fuck ever.”

Lindsay followed, but Gabe stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “You knew Brian wasn’t allowed near her.”

“I thought it would be okay if I was here. He wasn’t as extreme as he normally is.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it.”

Lindsay shrugged and left the two of them alone.

Strong arms reached under Vivian’s elbows and pulled her up. She was too numb to think as Gabe carried her to the bathroom. He sat her on the closed seat, then shucked his clothes and turned on the shower.

“Get undressed and we’ll get you cleaned up.” His voice was a gentle purr that Vivian wanted to wrap around herself.

She peeled the T-shirt and shorts from her body, along with her panties, still wet from her orgasm during breakfast. She took his offered hand and climbed into the shower. He was silent as he washed Brian’s spendings from her hair. Then he soaped the rest of her, as if instinctively knowing she’d want to wipe the whole experience off her. After she was clean, he turned off the shower and plugged the tub to run hot water.

When the it was deep enough, he sat and pulled her down into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. She cried softly as he stroked her hair.

“You’ll be okay,” he said.

But his reassurance only made her cry harder. “Please take me out of here. I’ll be yours. I’ll do whatever you want. Please.”

“I have nowhere to take you. I live here. I promise he won’t be allowed near you again.”

Brian had been as physically appealing as the rest of them, but he’d made her feel so dirty just by looking at her. She wasn’t sure why she would so readily submit to Gabe when Brian turned her stomach. But she felt something human in those kind, green eyes that made it feel okay.

What if Anton sold her to someone soulless like Brian? She could see herself belonging to a man like Gabe or Anton. Hell, even Lindsay’s type, she could in time grow to feel submissive feelings toward.

Gabe kissed her forehead. “Tell me what’s going on in there.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “What if Anton sells me to someone like Brian?”

“He won’t. He screens very carefully.”

“Well, he hired him. Does he not screen carefully for that?”

She felt Gabe’s body tense under hers and knew she’d pushed too far.

“Careful, Vivian. You already have a punishment coming from earlier this morning.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

The tension left his muscles, and he went back to petting her hair and back.

“Brian has his uses. Anton knows what he’s doing. Don’t worry.”

Even the idea in abstract form of someone owning her, paying hundreds of thousands of dollars for the privilege, should have sent her into screaming fits. But instead it settled her somehow and took away the restless feeling she’d had for so many years it had sat as a background hum.

Since things had started with Anton, the hum had grown softer. Then when she came to the mansion, it disappeared altogether, leaving a blissful silence in its place.

“I don’t understand what’s happening to me,” she said, her cheek resting against his pec.

“I know you don’t.”

“I don’t feel like my reactions are normal. The most normal I’ve reacted was with Brian.” Maybe Brian wasn’t all bad if he could make her feel like a normal person having the normal response to what was happening.

“I don’t want you to talk about yourself like you’re abnormal. You have certain needs, and you aren’t the only one. If you were, you’d be the only slave being trained in this house. Others have certain needs to own just like you need to be owned. We’re in the business of matching those needs up. We’re not just training you. We’re watching you, seeing how you react to various stimuli so we can match you with the right master.”

He made it sound like an online dating service. In her head she could see a list of sexual proclivities . . . likes kneeling, doesn’t like kneeling, likes being called a slut, doesn’t like being called a slut . . . She wondered if someone sat in a sterile office with a clipboard noting all this stuff down, and if she’d end up with a master like Gabe.

“Let’s get you out of here before you turn into a prune. Pruny slaves are harder to sell.”

She shouldn’t have laughed; she shouldn’t have wanted to. But in a weird way, Gabe made everything feel safe, and she wished again that he had someplace he could take her and that he wanted to.

He helped her out of the tub and dressed her in another pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

“Am I going to the gym?”

“You’re going to talk to Dr. Smith.”

She was about to argue, but the look in Gabe’s eyes told her he was finished coddling her, and if she pushed any further she’d have another punishment coming.

Ten minutes later, Gabe had taken her down four different hallways and into an office. The office was a larger replica of the first one she’d met the doctor in. She stared at the orchids for a long time.

“Sit down,” he said when Gabe had left them. She tensed now that the man she was starting to class as her protector had left her with someone she most definitely didn’t feel safe with.

She sat.

He clasped his hands together and leaned forward over the desk. “Ms. Delaney, I apologize.”

She cringed at hearing Michael’s last name. She’d been trying to erase him from her mind. Trying to erase thoughts of him worrying, not being able to find her, of never seeing him again. That chapter had to be closed. For her own sanity.