Killing Time (10 page)

The tears fell from my eyes before I could stop them. “Please, let me go. I won’t tell and I won’t investigate my sister’s death any further. I don’t want this and I cannot do this. It would be wrong for this to happen between you and me—we both know I am to marry another man. I don’t want to deal with the deception and I can’t fuck you . . . I just met you.”

Rory wiped my tears with his thumbs before he placed his hands dangerously close to my neck. “You can do anything you set your mind to . . . humans are capable and fascinating creatures. Do you know Claudette?”

I sniffled. “Who?”

“Claudette? The French blonde who ate your pussy tonight at the club . . . no one calls her Claudette anymore as she is only known as ‘slave’ or ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ to Severin. She started off as a bartender in Club X-Tasy and became a little too curious for her own good. I tried to warn her but Seven got to her first and well, you have observed what she is like now.”

“Is she . . . his toilet slave Grayson told me about?”

“No. Alas Severin got rid of her or…rather she killed herself but he doesn’t keep one anymore. He prefers to use the regular kind of lavatory you and I use. He said it was fun for a while but just got too fucking tedious and disgusting. Plus he couldn’t deal with her touching him sexually after he turned her into . . .
that . . .
so what’s her use if she can’t please him for what he really needs her there for? My brother doesn’t need a toilet slave, he needs a healthy human mind he can fracture and shatter into a million pieces before he puts it back together again in some kind of weird Frankenstein-like way. Right now, he only has Claudette and Hans. You met Hans tonight as well as he serviced you too orally if I remember correctly.”

“You were there the whole time?”

Rory smiled. “Of course. Severin has all kinds of uses but he is better at this than I am. I can admit it because it’s true. He is the one who turned me on to the lifestyle but I am not hardcore like him. I have no use for a dedicated twenty-four hour slave. I like to play games because they’re fun but at the same time, I also like to be . . . normal.”

“Is this what you call normal? Abducting me? Driving me out here to your extravagant Southampton estate against my will? Has any of tonight been
normal
for you?” I shouted.

He shook his head. “No, this won’t do. You’re going to be a tough one to crack because you aren’t really submissive at all—you just like to act the part.” He leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear, “
Sie sind nicht das was Sie zu sein scheinen.
”

My breath came harder as he grabbed me by my cuffed hands and stood me to my feet. I watched as he led me to a strange looking piece of leather furniture. It was designed like a plush triangle except he lowered me down in front of the highest part of the triangle and my upper body was forced down at an angle with my cuffed hands laid out straight in front of me.

“What did you say to me?”

He placed a leather blindfold over my eyes and secured it into place. It was the real deal because my world went completely dark and I couldn’t see anything.

“I said you are not what you seem,
auf Deutsch
of course. Are you uncomfortable yet or just horny?”

“Neither. I am frightened and I want to go home.”

Rory laughed again. I was tired of being the butt of his amusement. “You’re a grown woman. Stop acting like a child or I will have to spank you. I wasn’t planning on indulging in any of those kind of games tonight as it really isn’t my thing.”

“What is your ‘thing’—I mean, what . . . turns you on?”

I felt his hands along the edges of my dress and he pulled it up ever so slowly until it was around my waist.

I tried to think and concentrate on anything other than the sheer humiliation I felt with my backside open and exposed in front of a man who was not Grayson. I was far from prudish but I hadn’t had a one-night stand since my early twenties. I barely knew this man and yet, he touched my body as if we’d known each other forever.

There was a reason why I was considered the classic, serial monogamist. I preferred stable relationships with one partner and the familiarity as long as familiar didn’t turn into stale and stable didn’t turn into predictable. I could stand to be on my own but I preferred being part of couple.

This just seemed perverse. My fiancé at home while another man had his hands on my ass. He pulled my cheeks apart so he could study every inch of the intimate areas between my legs like I was some kind of science project . . . or sex object.

To be honest, I felt like such a tough shit feminist right now, I would rather be thought of as a science project than a sex object. Perhaps this was the reason why I hated to find out Trésor had been involved in this life. She had a brain and she was smart, beautiful, witty, and could have been anything she wanted.

She didn’t have to settle for being some empty-brained catalogue model and some Dom’s submissive just because he looked like a fucking rock star and had enough money to rival Mark Zuckerberg.

She didn’t have to degrade herself like this and succumb to a man for a place to sleep and a casual fuck thrown her way when he felt like it.

My anger surged through my body and made me try to get up but he forced me back down. “So strong and tough but alas, I am stronger than you. Be still or I will hurt you even though I don’t want to.”

The tears tumbled down my eyes but they gathered in the leather blindfold and did not slide down my cheeks. I sniffled and felt my whole body wrack with sobs full of uncontrollable rage and anger now directed at myself because I was too curious to see where this would lead. I wanted him to do what ever he wanted to me although it went against every grain in my body to be dominated or controlled. How dare he think he could do what no other man had done, not even Renaud.

“Shh.” His breath was warm against my cheek and smelled faintly like peppermints and Cristal champagne. “Why do you deny yourself of something we both want to happen? Do you think I chose you at random? I am grieving . . . don’t get me wrong. I am not looking for a mere replacement for your sister and I don’t want one either. But I do want to do this with you because something inside me compels me to understand and know about the very essence of your being.”

“If we . . . do what you want us to do then will you let me go?”

“Of course. I won’t ever contact you again and you probably won’t ever see me again except at Trésor’s funeral and perhaps the odd social function or two. It will be like it never happened but we will both know it did. This will be our little secret.

“We’re just killing time. No safe words because they aren’t needed . . . and no boundaries because you wouldn’t have a clue where yours begin and end. Just boundless pleasure  . . . and exquisite pain. I won’t inflict any on you because we both have enough psychological pain between us to keep us sated for the time being, you understand.”

I nodded my head.

“I don’t rape or take advantage of women so now, I must have your permission. You have to agree to allow me to do what ever I want to do to you tonight. Just know I won’t hurt you or leave any bruises on your body what so ever. Grayson will never know another man’s cock or tongue has been anywhere near your body, is that understood. Nod if you understand.”

I reluctantly nodded my head again.

“I don’t want you to speak, do you understand me? You are not to say a word but you are free to grunt and moan and make any kind of noise you like. The basement walls are padded and no one would hear you anyway. The only time you are allowed to open your mouth is to say yes or no to me using your body tonight.”

I nodded again.

“Good. Now that we have that out of the way and before you are not allowed to speak for the duration of the night, do I have your permission? Will you let me truly open your eyes to what you are missing in your tiny world where pleasure is often denied and you feel no relief except what you give yourself? Don’t you want a man to make love and satisfy you in every sense of the word? Don’t you want to be dominated and felt like you are not good enough, not worthy enough but I will allow you to come again and again anyway? By the end of the night, your pretty eyes will be begging me to make you come another few times before I drive you back to New York and I may or may not take you up on your offer. A ‘yes’ or ‘no’ shall suffice.”

My breath came in ragged gasps. I wanted to say no but my lips betrayed me and softly, I whispered, “Yes.”

Chapter Six

Rory

RORY COULDN’T BELIEVE HIS LUCK
when she’d said “Yes” to his request.

He knew everything about her because like Aurélie, he liked to be prepared and he insisted on knowing people he slept with because to fuck a casual stranger had lost its appeal ages ago.

She would probably be surprised to find out they were the same age yet his life had been so very different from hers. Not just because of the money but because of his sexual predilections and the people who were part of his world tended to be just as wealthy and depraved as he.

Rory took pride in believing he was better than Severin because he didn’t keep slaves and there were months where the lifestyle merely didn’t suit him at all. He stayed away from the clubs yet at the same time, he’d continue his Dom/sub relationship with Trésor. They got lost in their own world and from the outside, they looked like the perfect vanilla couple but at home, he would dominate her. She trusted his decisions on what she should wear, eat, how they had sex and how many times a night they had sex.

It was all so very ordinary except instead of the clubs, they attended the opera or a Broadway show or the ballet. She loved ballet and wanted to be one because of their mother but alas, her feet were too flat and she would have made an awful ballerina. She loved modern dance too with acts of gymnastics and ballet involved. She was a huge fan of Cirque du Soleil and they never missed a show when he took her on trips to Vegas.

He owned Vogue Hotel, Spa and Casino, therefore it was quite a mind fuck to find out Aurélie had worked for him and he had no idea what so ever. The Casino had been built when he was only twenty-two years old with money his parents’ had given Severin and him just to get them out of the country. They were tired of their two wayward sons who caused them nothing but trouble and payouts due to their wild lifestyles. They thought the twins would be happier in America where they could blend in and find people who were like them. Wealthy men and women who shared their predilections but happened not to move in their parents’ tight-knit circle of friends in the Munich area.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself he was not trying to replace Trésor, he could not deny he did need someone in his life and at his age, he’d grown too jaded just to have anyone. He had specific requirements and unbeknownst to Aurélie, she ticked all the boxes he looked for in a woman.

He didn’t need a mindless airhead who would do everything he said to his exact specifications because he’d been there and done that. Like his brother, the power to have complete control over another person was intoxicating at one time but it soon became too taxing on his system.

When grown human beings of full mental functioning capacity allowed themselves to be reduced lower than an animal, they were no longer beautiful objects of his affection. The fear and the need for another person to control every aspect of their lives ruined their physical attributes and destroyed their purpose of being in his life. He no longer wanted them as receptacles of pleasure and rather found them to have become pathetic shells he could no longer lust after, and merely despised with a passion.

This was the very reason why he did not believe in a master/slave relationship and would never enter one again. His conscience was far from clear and he had to live with himself knowing he had caused someone’s death during his short lifetime.

He’d spoken the words though another woman had committed the actions but it was his turn of phrase: “You’re so disgustingly pathetic, you don’t deserve to breathe the same air I do and you would do me and the world a favor if you killed yourself. You’d be better off dead you stupid, worthless slut!”

He’d left because her pleading eyes, begging for a way to please him, always made him see red. Causing her pain couldn’t even satisfy his sadistic tendencies any longer.

When he arrived home and found his slave dead, he’d panicked and called Severin.

Although identical twins, Seven was two hours and forty-five minutes older than Rory and he trusted his brother implicitly no matter what happened or what his sexual predilections were.

Severin had held him as he sobbed openly and told him in hurried German what had happened to the young woman. He chastised him before he sent him to Las Vegas. He never asked Severin what happened to the body and his brother never offered any insight into what he’d done but he owed him his life and his freedom.

Rory knew what his brother was capable of but despite it all, he could not bring himself to believe he would have hurt Trésor. He knew she was the closest his brother had ever felt to love and therefore would have not destroyed a hair on her head.