by Lacey Savage
Could she be stupid enough to lie to him? She was brazen and bold, confident in her patron Saint’s protection, but would she take her brash assuredness so far as to blatantly violate the Academy’s contract with him?
Neo forced himself to take a deep breath. He was getting too worked up over this. No doubt the High Priestess wanted him agitated. It would throw him off and make him careless. She still had the right to refuse his bid for Dante, if she thought Neo was capable of harming the servant in any way. Patrons owned their pleasure slaves in every sense of the word, yet there were rules that governed proper behavior. The Terran government didn’t tolerate abuse.
It simply wasn’t profitable.
He swallowed past the irritation lodged in his throat and flexed his fingers, relaxing his tense muscles. He didn’t want to hurt Dante, anyway. At least, not in any way that would cause the man permanent harm.
He wanted to push this unusual servant past his boundaries, to shove him hard through the point of no return. A slow smile replaced the scowl that had been straining Neo’s features.
He’d do just that. Starting now.
“Take off those pants,” he instructed. “They’re ridiculous.”
Dante’s eyes were hooded against the crimson light flickering from overhead neon lights. The illumination in the room had been toned down to a shimmering, dull level, just strong enough to add an eerie atmosphere to a chamber whose name translated directly to “bloody.”
Perhaps it had been named for the condition of the servants as they exited the room. Judging by the instruments of pain and pleasure sprinkled liberally among the statues depicting various BDSM techniques, Neo didn’t doubt that the room’s designation had been chosen in direct correlation to its purpose.
While abuse wasn’t tolerated by either the Academy or the government, playful bondage and the liberal application of pain for the purpose of pleasure wasn’t just abided, it was encouraged.
There was a fine line between abuse and playfulness, one the Academy’s patrons often straddled. As long as no complaints were issued, though, no one seemed to care in which direction a patron leaned.
When Dante made no move to obey, Neo stalked around him like a predator assessing its prey. His gaze took in the fine details of muscle and sinew stretched taut over a broad chest and strong, massive arms. Despite Dante’s size, the man held himself with a fluidity born of self-assuredness. Even when exposed to Neo’s obvious displeasure, he didn’t flinch or tense. He simply stood there, as though what Neo wanted or didn’t want was of no concern to him.
“You didn’t train him too well, now, did you?” Neo growled between clenched teeth, directing his question to Sophia, who stood in front of Dante like a human shield. One almost a foot shorter than the man she sought to protect. The image would have been amusing if she hadn’t been standing in Neo’s way.
“I told you he wasn’t ready,” Sophia shot back, her black eyes glimmering with barely disguised hostility. “You’re welcome to leave, and return in a couple of weeks. He’ll be much better prepared by then, I assure you.”
Neo clasped his hand around Sophia’s throat so quickly that she barely had time to react. Her eyes widened and a small cry escaped her throat. Her skin felt warm beneath his fingertips, echoing the sensation of raw heat stirring in his groin.
“Don’t play with me, Priestess. You won’t like the results.”
From the corner of his eye, Neo saw Dante tense. The man’s eyes narrowed and veins stood out sharply along his biceps. Neo didn’t have to glance down to know his hands were clenched into fists.
Ah. So this got a reaction from the otherwise stoic pleasure servant. Interesting. He filed that away, knowing he might be able to use Dante’s obvious attachment to Sophia in some way when an opportunity presented itself.
For now, though, the Priestess wasn’t the one who interested him. Dante was different from all the other pleasure servants trained at the Academy. Perhaps different enough to warrant being entrusted with the Academy’s secrets.
Since Sophia would never willingly reveal what she and her kin were hiding, Neo knew he had to find other means to extract the information. At the moment, Dante was his best bet.
Abruptly, Neo released Sophia. She stumbled backward a step, her hand going to her throat.
“Leave us,” Neo commanded. “I need some time alone to get to know my servant.”
He watched as Sophia darted a glance at Dante, her hand rubbing distractedly at the flesh reddened by Neo’s ruthless grip. Their eyes met. Held.
Sophia broke the connection first. She straightened her spine and leveled Neo with a firm gaze. “He’s not your possession yet, Captain. I’m staying.”
Neo opened his mouth to protest then thought better of it. A slow smile spread across his features. So the Priestess wanted to watch, did she? A shiver of anticipation ran down Neo’s spine. Saints, this was even better than he’d hoped. With any luck, he’d get everything he wanted right in this very room.
The Academy’s secrets. A natural Dom.
Everything. Right here. Right now.
Fighting to keep his enthusiasm in check, Neo crossed his arms over his chest. He looked from Dante to Sophia, then back again. “Strip. Both of you.”
Sophia’s jaw inched up a notch. “I’m a High Priestess of the Order of Saint Valentine. You can’t command me. I’m simply here to observe and ensure you’re treating your servant-to-be in accordance to the pre-purchase contract.”
Neo moved slowly, deliberately, until he stood directly behind Sophia and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “No deal, Priestess. I know the contract as well as you do. Better, perhaps, since I’ve been studying my copy all night.”
He hadn’t been able to sleep more than an hour or two all night because his thoughts had continued to stray to Dante. The man had so much promise. Even the way his mouth had wrapped around Neo’s cock to suck him with such untrained precision had been a testament to his natural dominant abilities. He could submit, but not willingly, and certainly not out of his own desire to do so.
When images of Dante’s ass flexing and reddening as Neo’s blows carved delicate stripes across the pale flesh had become too much to bear, he’d resorted to reading the eighty-page contract in the hopes that it might alleviate some of the constant need simmering in his groin.
But the Priestess didn’t need to know all that. “I’m entitled to privacy while I assess Dante, just as any other patron would be. After all, purchasing a slave is a big decision, and not one to be made lightly. But since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll allow you to stay. For a price.”
Though Neo’s cheek was pressed to Sophia’s hair, he was able to see Dante shift from foot to foot. Neo knew Dante couldn’t hear what he was saying, and it had to be driving him mad. For a disconcerting moment, Neo wondered if the man was considering lunging at him and bashing his skull in with his bare hands.
Hell, Dante certainly had the ability to do him harm. At least a head taller, he also possessed the kind of feral strength Neo had never encountered in a Terran citizen. Men were usually bred for purpose and efficiency. Even military men like himself depended on technology rather than sheer brawn alone to get them through a fight.
Still, there was something about Dante that reminded Neo a lot of himself. Sure, they looked different. Dante’s head of blond curls was a direct contrast to Neo’s long black locks. And while Neo took pride in the taut firmness of his body’s lean lines, he knew Dante’s rippling muscles were better defined than his own. As for his cock…well, Neo held no illusions that they were a match in that department, either.
They’d clearly been created in separate laboratories, for particular purposes. But there was something in the man’s steady resolve and the way he refused to take orders with a grateful smile that tugged at Neo’s self-control.
He had to have this man. Had to possess him, to make him his. In every possible way.
Saints, could he finally, after years of searching,
have found a servant worthy of receiving his unique brand of training? A man who could wield a whip as thought it was an extension of his hand? One who could attach nipple clamps without whimpering and thrust an anal toy in a back passage with the rough determination of a born Dominant?
Excitement surged through him, making his cock throb. He couldn’t wait to find out.
“I won’t submit to you,” Sophia said, jerking Neo out of his reverie. This close, he could make out the slight tremor in the Priestess’s voice, though he knew she’d tried for a calm, authoritative tone.
A low, rumbling laugh erupted from Neo’s chest. He pressed his cock against the base of her spine, letting her feel his intoxicating need. His head reeled with lust and fervent, unfettered hope.
“It’s not me you’ll be submitting to, Priestess.” He raised a hand and pointed past her to the doorway, where Dante looked ready to put those sleek muscles to use. “It’s him.”
“Strip.”
Until that very moment, Sophia hadn’t known one word could elicit such a maelstrom of emotions in her. Such a simple word. The captain’s word ‑‑ his command.
Spoken by Dante.
That made all the difference. She could resist the arrogant Captain ‑‑ Master ‑‑ Jolen. Sure, he had the ability to order half the Central Command officials to storm into her Academy, but he wouldn’t do it without at least a shred of solid proof. And that, she wasn’t willing to give him.
Dante, on the other hand… Her gaze raked over his body, settling on the firm bulge between his powerful thighs. After meeting the children, he’d agreed to do everything in his power to remain aware of his inner impulse to shift at all times. She still didn’t think he believed her assertion about being unable to control himself, but there was too much at stake to ignore the possibility that losing control could cost them everything that mattered.
Everything she’d worked so hard to keep safe.
Her hand went to the sash draped across her waist. She tugged at one end and it unraveled, baring a strip of skin down her middle. Dante’s gaze darted over the newly uncovered flesh to linger on her pussy.
She groomed herself daily as custom dictated, but this morning she hadn’t had time, between waking up in Dante’s bed and meeting with the insistent Captain. For a moment, she worried about the appearance of her neatly-trimmed curls. Steeling herself for Dante’s inspection, she pulled the robe back and allowed it to drift over her arms to pool onto the floor.
“Stunning, isn’t she?” the captain said, his gaze raking her body. A shiver crept up her spine, though the emotions it stirred in her weren’t what she’d expected.
She was used to men’s appreciative stares. She’d encountered them for years, ever since reaching the age of majority and taking her place among the other priestesses. This, however, was different.
She felt exposed. More so because baring herself hadn’t been her decision. She’d been ordered to do so, and for the first time in her entire life, she’d obeyed someone other than her patron Saint.
Sucking in a breath between her teeth, Sophia felt her nipples harden under scrutiny. Heat swirled around her breasts, as though invisible fingers coaxed strands of arousal and bound her with them, until she was hyperaware of every trembling nerve ending coming to life across the surface of her skin.
She was about to surrender control of her own free will. The knowledge frightened and confused her, but it also excited her beyond belief.
Dante had agreed that in order to keep the captain from becoming interested in what went on at the Academy ‑‑ and why they’d insisted on keeping him locked in the training room while on the premises ‑‑ they had to distract him. Fast.
They’d known the captain would want to train Dante…and what better way than to provide him with a willing submissive on whom to practice?
Sophia had argued she was the best choice. No man was allowed to touch her without her express permission. More importantly, no man was allowed to fuck her except as part of strict rituals performed in worship. Everyone knew that ‑‑ even the captain. She was certain that despite his insistence that she submit to Dante, he wouldn’t ‑‑ couldn’t ‑‑ force her to betray her patron Saint.
But, oh, how she wanted to. The slick wetness between her legs spoke volumes about the inner torment clawing at her soul. She’d spent her life doing what was expected of her. Just once, she wanted to give in to the desperate need that filled her, threatening to send her over the edge.
Yet, if she tumbled, she took Dante with her. As long as he couldn’t fuck her or watch her be fucked, she hoped he could call on every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from relenting to the bliss of a shuddering orgasm. He had to keep a tight leash on his inner beast, and it was her duty to make sure he didn’t give in and doom them all.
She only wished she could share some of her own self-control with him. Hell, she hadn’t shifted in years. It had been so long, she wasn’t sure she even remembered how. And yet…there was something about the feral grace flexing Dante’s muscles as he strained at the peak of climax, when his body rippled with the rampant need to transform, that had stolen her breath.
Envy had pierced her heart for a brief moment as she’d watched him in the throes of his release. She’d never been that free, that accepting of who ‑‑ or what ‑‑ she was. She was master over her inner beast, not the other way around. Never in her entire life had she felt the stir of a shift without consciously initiating the change herself.
“Look at her,” the captain instructed.
Sophia swallowed hard as she lowered her gaze, no longer able to handle the fierce scrutiny in Dante’s eyes.
“See the way she’s ducking her head, ever so slightly? The Priestess has a genuine submissive tendency, like all good pleasure servants.”
“She’s not a servant,” Dante growled. She almost smiled at the possessive way he rejected what the captain had said.
“Sure she is. Just a different breed, but created in a laboratory along with the rest of them and instilled with the same traits as any other servant. Docile behavior, an eagerness to please, and the ability to find pleasure in pain.”
As though to punctuate his words, the captain strolled behind her and gave her ass a solid smack. She jerked upright, her spine stiffening as pain blossomed in her right cheek. Wetness flooded her core and along with it, the unmistakable aroma of spicy female arousal.
“What did I tell you?” She couldn’t see the captain’s face, but she could hear the pride in his voice. “She loves it. Just like the rest of them.”
Sophia stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Oh, if he only knew just how different she was from the pleasure servants they trained on Academy grounds. Thanks to Saint Valentine’s ritualistic demands, she’d been born of a priestess mother and an Alpha father, formed from conception with the traits and abilities that marked her as a deviant on Earth.
How ironic, then, that the submissive tendencies that made pleasure servants so valuable had been part of her genetic make-up as well. A natural addition, or the Saint’s way of toying with her? She didn’t know. Until today, she wouldn’t have thought of her patron Saint as a cruel deity. Now, knowing the captain would be able to draw on her innermost desires and use them against Dante, she was no longer sure that her patron was as benign as he seemed.
“Come here,” Dante said.
Another order, delivered in that same sultry, expectant tone. How could she resist?
She moved away from the Captain and met Dante halfway across the room. Keeping her gaze level with his had become a task too difficult to complete, and she lowered her head until she was staring at Dante’s bare feet.
Sliding two fingers beneath her chin, he raised her face to his. She watched him expectantly as he lowered his mouth until it gently brushed her lips. “I’d never hurt you,” he murmured against her mouth a split-second before kissing her with a savage passion mirroring her own raging torrent of need.
“Enough of
that.”
Something metallic rattled off in the distance, too far away for Sophia to discern what it was. Dante pulled back first, leaving her with nothing but the ghostly impression of his lips and the taste of him lingering on her tongue.
“Bring her here, then cuff her.”
Cuff her? He couldn’t mean…
Oh, Saints.
Sophia suddenly felt light-headed. Dante grabbed her wrist and pulled her along after him until they stood beside Captain Jolen, who held a pair of antique handcuffs in his hand. “I’ll bind her. You need to finally take off those pants.”
Dante looked like he was about to argue then thought better of it. Shedding his linen pants quickly, he tossed them aside, not caring where they landed. As luck would have it, the material got hooked on the bulbous tip of Saint Valentine’s massive cock and hung from the bronze sculpture like a defiant reminder of what was to come.
Captain Jolen yanked her wrists and pressed them behind her back with much less force than she’d expected. Sophia’s breath halted in her throat as she stared at the cage stretched out before her. The handcuffs closed with a snap. The captain adjusted them, tightening until the metal edges bit into her skin.
She knew every instrument in this room intimately. She’d been bound in most of them, and she’d used every one on the servants she’d trained. The cage, however, had always been one instrument of pleasure/pain she’d avoided at all costs.
Sophia’s head swam, confusion and slivers of terror zinging through her veins. “N-no. No,” she repeated, louder this time.
She might as well have been talking to one of the bronze statues. No one answered her plea, but she thought she heard a low chuckle. The captain, no doubt. Dante would never laugh at her discomfort.
Funny, how she was so certain of that, though she had no real reason to be. She’d only known him for a couple of days, yet every mutated cell in her body screamed at her to trust him.
