by Aubrey Ross
“Yes. I deserve punishment.” He pushed his pants and underwear to his knees. It was more degrading when he didn’t fully undress. This wasn’t the first time they’d played this game, just the first time they’d had an audience. “Hands and knees. Angle yourself so Aysha can see what I’m doing.”
While he arranged himself in front of Aysha, Lopeka retrieved a disposable tube of lubricant. The point of this was to debase not injure him.
“You made Aysha take it up the ass while her husband looked on in horror, didn’t you?” Aysha gasped and the color drained from her face. “Didn’t you know Nicay was watching? You look genuinely horrified.”
“Oh my God.” She hid behind her hair and her whimpers seemed genuine for the first time. “No wonder he took off.”
That snapped them both to attention. Kwinton pushed off the floor and grabbed the back of her hair, forcing her to meet his hostile gaze. “What do you mean he took off?”
“Why do you think I went to see Miranda? Nicay left me!”
Kwinton looked at Lopeka for confirmation. She scanned the blonde’s mind, probing more aggressively than she had before. “I sense no deception, but she’s hiding something.”
“You’re both crazy!” Aysha tugged against Kwinton’s hold, tears swimming behind her long eyelashes. “I haven’t lied. I’ve done everything you told me to.”
Lopeka shifted her gaze from Aysha to Kwinton. He needed to be punished, but the blonde couldn’t be allowed to regain her composure. A smile twisted her lips. She’d simply multitask.
“As you were,” she told Kwinton. His mouth opened as if he would object then he snapped his jaw shut and resumed his position. “Have you ever been caned?” she asked the blonde.
Aysha shook her head, fear spreading across her features.
“You’ve spoiled her, Kwinton. As often as you’ve fucked her, she should be fully trained by now.” She slapped his ass hard. First one side and then the other. He grunted, his muscles flexing against the sting. “This wakes up his nerve endings, preparing him for stronger sensations.”
Aysha nervously licked her lips and glanced at the red handprints on his swarthy skin.
With cruel deliberation, Lopeka took the small tube of lubricant and inserted it into his rectum.
“I thought you were going to cane him.” Aysha’s voice was barely more than a whisper.
“There are many ways to use a cane.” Leering into Aysha’s eyes, Lopeka removed the rubber skid guard from the end of her cane and caressed the smooth ebony shaft. “I’m feeling generous, Kwinton. Would you prefer pleasure or pain?”
He trembled, head sagging forward on his shoulders. She’d never met a person who derived more enjoyment from brutality. It was easier for a man with his reputation to dole out punishment than to admit that he craved it.
“Pain.”
She chuckled at his weakness and brought the cane down across his firm ass cheeks. He cried out and arched his back, his cock springing to life with predictable vitality.
“Harder,” he urged, beyond caring, beyond pride.
With practiced control, she avoided the raised welts, connecting with fresh skin each time she swung the cane. He tossed his head. His screams were music to her ears.
“Fuck me, please. Mistress, fuck me now!”
She squeezed the lube into his passage and tossed the flattened tube aside. Without hesitation, she thrust the cane into his ass. Her gaze connected with Aysha’s as she fucked Kwinton with careful, steady strokes.
He lowered his head to the floor, resting his forehead on his folded arms. Aysha squeezed her eyes shut as a bright flush spread over her breasts. Was she wet and aching or terrified? It didn’t matter. Lopeka could manipulate either reaction to her advantage. Focusing on Kwinton, she kept each thrust relatively shallow. As soon as she caressed his prostrate, he’d go off like a rocket.
His hips rose with greedy determination. She allowed the small rebellion. He could set the depth, but she would control the speed. He cried out suddenly, his ass cheeks clenching. His cock jerked wildly, spurting cum onto the synthwood floor.
She savored his low moan as she drew the cane out. “Stay just like that. I want to look at you.”
Placing the cane on the floor beside him, she stepped back to enjoy the obscene tableau. His clothes were disheveled, and sweat gleamed on his lean flesh. Welts striped his ass and the backs of his thighs, and the proof of his surrender was visible beneath the arch of his body. The sight sent hot tingles racing through her.
She turned to Aysha and took a deep breath. Now the real fun could begin. “How are you feeling, pretty whore?”
Aysha whimpered and turned her face away.
“Did watching his degradation turn you on?” She knelt at Aysha’s side and nudged her thighs apart. With her knees and ankles bound, she wasn’t able to make much room. “Let’s see if you’re wet.” She traced a path through her slick folds and thrust her middle finger up into Aysha’s cunt. The blonde gasped and shuddered. “You’re not just wet, you’re sopping. Did you already come?”
“Please, I don’t want…”
“Sure you do. You’re so turned on I could make you come with the flick of my thumb.”
Tears trailed down her face. “Don’t hurt me. I’ll ‑‑” Lopeka found her clit and pinched the swollen nub, the pressure too vicious to trigger an orgasm. Aysha screamed and rocked back until her ass rested on her heels. “I’ll tell you everything. I’ll lick your pussy. I’ll… Tell me what you want.”
She grasped Aysha’s bound wrists, steadying her torso as she ruthlessly twisted her nipples. “Talk. I might stop if I hear something that interests me.”
“Nicay left his wedding ring on the counter. I took it to Miranda to scan. I honestly don’t know where he is. Oh, fuck that hurts! Please, I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Pulling her hand away from Aysha’s breast, Lopeka grasped her chin. “Don’t tell me anything. Accept me into your mind; show me exactly what happened. Hold nothing back.”
* * * * *
Drake had the irrational need to jerk Miranda’s hand out of Jericho’s grasp. Her gaze filled with feminine awareness as Jericho brushed her knuckles with his lips.
“This is business, Jimmy,” Drake grumbled. “Back off.”
“Jimmy?” Jericho laughed. “Is that supposed to put me in my place?”
“Unfortunately, we’re stuck in your place until the danger passes. Don’t complicate the situation by hitting on my ‑‑”
“I introduced myself.” He released her hand and returned Drake’s glare. In an instant, lethal intensity sliced through his suave veneer. “Don’t provoke me. I’m well aware of the situation.”
Miranda stood and insinuated herself between the men. “Come on, boys. There’s no need for aggression.” Amusement shimmered in her hazel eyes, making the golden shards brighter. “I take it you’re related?”
“Why would you say that?” Drake asked.
“Failed friendships seldom generate this level of hostility.”
“My brother, James O’Bannon, disappeared years ago.” Drake spoke to Miranda, but his gaze remained on Jericho.
“Around the same time Jericho James came into being?”
Drake nodded, wrestling old resentments back under control. “Jericho has no family.” He might be charming and likable, but he was a ruthless criminal.
She curved her arm around Jericho’s elbow and raised her chin. “I know what it’s like to be abandoned by your family.”
To Drake’s surprise, Jericho uncoiled her arm and eased away. “You’ve gotten the wrong impression, doll. James walked out on his family, not the other way around.”
“I see.”
Her gaze returned to Drake with new interest and determination swelled within him. He wanted to capture her attention so completely that Jericho faded from view. It was his responsibility to shield her from any potential danger and that included Jericho.
“Is the room
satisfactory?” Jericho asked. “Did the attendant detail the amenities?”
Her expression turned speculative as she studied one brother and then the other. “Which amenities do you mean? Drake dismissed the attendant in the lobby.”
“He was obviously in a hurry to be alone with you.” Jericho smiled. “I can’t fault him for that strategy.”
She lowered her lashes with another flirtatious smile, and Drake’s nails bit into his palms. They were just talking, so why did the urge to jerk them apart and pummel Jericho within an inch of his life fill him?
“This is one of our seclusion suites. It’s designed to be all inclusive. Food will be delivered three times a day. You can make selections from our extensive menu or allow the chefs to surprise you. The private simulation chamber is a scaled down version of the units used downstairs. The experience is just as stimulating, but the programs are somewhat limited by available space.”
“We won’t be using the simulator,” Drake insisted. “We have work to do.” The statement was as much a reminder to his libido as a warning to Jericho.
“Speak for yourself,” she replied. “I’ve always believed in rewarding myself for a job well done.”
“Would you like a demonstration?” Jericho motioned toward the door tucked into the back corner of the room.
Drake neatly blocked their path. “I can show her how it works when and if we accomplish our goals for today.”
“Is he always like this?” Miranda asked Jericho sotto voce.
“Persistence is his middle name.”
“Persistence is a laudable quality” ‑‑ she subjected Drake to the full power of her expressive eyes ‑‑ “when it’s balanced with patience and compassion.”
“I think Drake is more interested in justice.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Drake objected.
“One person’s justice often results in another’s destruction. The universe is ruthless that way. Someone always pays.”
“I’m craving a hot fudge sundae. Any chance that can be arranged?”
“I’ll take care of it immediately.”
She held out her hand toward Jericho. “Thanks for your hospitality. I really don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t taken me in.”
Jericho settled for a handshake this time, but his gaze caressed her face. “If you need anything else ‑‑ anything at all ‑‑ don’t hesitate to ask.”
Her eyebrows drew together as she considered the offer. “Is Ritter going to have my things sent over?” she asked Drake.
“I hate to be blunt, Miranda, but you’re dead.” Her flash of vulnerability made him regret his candor. She didn’t deserve his surliness. None of this was her fault. “Make a list of what you need. If Jericho can’t arrange it, I’ll take care of it myself.”
“I seriously doubt there will be anything I can’t get. In fact, why don’t I take her off your hands altogether? I’m sure she’ll be infinitely more satisfied with me.”
She placed her hand on Jericho’s upper arm and Drake fought back a snarl. He felt restless and possessive and none of it made sense. Yes, she was beautiful and successful, but she enjoyed her celebrity far too much, and worst of all, she was a mystic.
“I appreciate the offer, Mr. James, but we really are here for a reason.”
“Please, call me Jericho.”
“All right, Jericho.”
She was flirting with him again! Drake didn’t know why he was surprised. Everyone flirted with Jericho. He was charming and approachable and…the polar opposite of his grumpy younger brother.
“Don’t you have a hotel to run?”
“Unfortunately I do. Just as soon as I’ve seen to the lady’s sundae.” He kissed Miranda on the cheek and headed for the door.
“Jericho” ‑‑ she brought him up short half a step from the exit ‑‑ “do you know what ‘Kisauk taylin evanta stee’ means?”
“Did someone say that to you?”
“It was spoken over a man right before he was murdered. What does it mean?”
“‘Torment in this life and the next.’ It’s a Wirtanen curse.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” After indulging in another lingering stare, Jericho left the suite.
“What made you think he would recognize the phrase?”
“He interacts with people from all over the star system.” She shrugged. “We didn’t have anything to lose by asking him.”
“I agree.” He inclined his head with a reluctant smile. “Great instincts.”
“Thank you.” Her smile came much more readily. “The people on Wirtanen are laborers. Most of them have less than nothing. Why would a powerful businessman bother with someone like that?”
“That’s what we need to find out.”
Miranda’s heart gave a surprising flutter as they returned to the sofa. Why did she respond so strongly to this man? Jericho was a far more obvious choice. Drake could be insensitive and rude, yet his focus made her feel safe. She had always thrived on challenge and Drake was more complicated than most. She sensed a multi-facetted personality beneath his professional reserve and she was anxious to explore each element.
“I wasn’t ready for the images when you sent them to me before,” Drake said. “I’m sure there was a lot I missed.”
“Do we have to do this right now?” She rubbed her temples.
Concern softened his expression, but his posture remained resolute. “If you give me a few more details, I’ll be able to work while you rest. If you’re honestly too tired, I’ll wait.”
Rest wouldn’t alleviate her fatigue, and the sundae had been more of an indulgence than a solution. I’ll show you the images again if you fuck me afterward. She could just imagine how he’d respond to that proposal. No, she could control her hunger, could carefully ration her energy.
“Which scene interested you most?” She shot him a sidelong glance with the hint of a smile.
“Despite Aysha’s physical attributes, I’ve never been content to watch.” His tone had a throaty rumble that sent tingles down her spine. “Let me see the blond Wirtanen.”
With a heavy sigh, she raised her hands to his face and stared into his eyes. “Accept me into your mind. Any resistance will only tire me further.”
“I’m not trying to keep you out.”
“Every person is born with some level of shielding. It’s instinctive, a survival mechanism. Relax.” She reestablished a basic link, using the same pathway she’d accessed before. “Close your eyes. Listen to my voice and take slow, deep breaths.”
His chest rose and fell, and his eyelids lowered. Still, the barrier remained strong. She’d shoved through it the first time, rudely bombarding his untrained mind with images and sensations. He wanted to analyze the scene, study the details. A forced connection wouldn’t provide him with that level of control.
“Picture a doorway.” The link between their minds allowed her to see what he imagined. “Good. Now reach for the handle and open the door.” His hand extended and he rotated the lever. Without her prompting, he pulled the door aside and allowed her into his mind.
She penetrated slowly, stabilizing the connection as she ventured deeper. Vibrant and passionate, his personality surrounded her. She sensed his sharp intellect and the meticulous control he used to subdue his emotions. She longed to wander, to discover the events that had forged his need for control and fueled his emotional reserve. That wasn’t why she was here. They had a mystery to solve that had nothing to do with his past.
“All right.” She shifted her hold, pushing her fingers into his hair and circling his temples with her thumbs. “I’m going to establish the setting first. Tell me when you can see the office clearly.”
A shudder passed through his body. “Ritter has no idea how powerful you really are. Does he?”
She didn’t let the awe in his tone distract her from the task. If anyone realized the true scope of her abilities, they’d lock her away, or neu
tralize the threat permanently. It took all her willpower and training to suppress her darker instinct. Surrounding herself with people who needed her help allowed her to channel her consuming ambition into constructive means. Still, the temptation was always there, a ravening beast locked within the depths of her being.
“Can you see the office?”
“As if I were standing in it.”
“I’ll run the scene in real time first. Then I’ll slow it down and let you see it from several angles.”
She patiently responded to his requests, slowing down the action, focusing on each face, and panning around the room.
His hair caressed her fingers and his nearness tantalized. She inhaled deeply, letting his warm, spicy scent insulate her from the violence. She studied his features and memorized the texture of his skin. His lips parted, inviting her kiss and threatening her concentration.
A firm knock at the door shattered the tension. “That’s probably my ice cream.”
He nodded, blinking repeatedly as if to clear his vision. “I’ll get started.”
She activated the hall monitor and found a robotic server waiting in the hall, a silver tray neatly balanced on the palm of his raised hand. She opened the door and he lifted the domed cover with a dramatic flourish.
“Compliments of Mr. James.” He held up a hot fudge sundae, complete with whipped cream and a cherry.
“Thank you. I’ll savor every bite.”
After locking the door, she returned to the sofa. Drake sat at the work station, searching through video files. His face was presented in profile. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“Not right now. If I can’t identify the blond, I’ll have you show me some of the other faces.”
She took a bite of the sundae and smiled. Rich hot fudge mixed with cool, sweet ice cream, tantalizing her senses. This was almost as good as sex. Her gaze drifted back to Drake and she reconsidered. Did he approach sex with focused efficiency or did he allow himself to unwind?
It didn’t matter. She forced her attention back on the dessert in her hand. His only interest in her was the images in her mind. He’d made that much abundantly clear. The treat tasted worse with each bite she took, so she set the half eaten sundae on the coffee table.
