In the Land of Gods and Monsters, Part Two (Gods & Monsters Book 2)

by Carmen Jenner

  “You’ll pay for this, bitch.” He hisses through clenched teeth. Ares boots him in the stomach, and he curls into himself, writhing in agony.

  “Go on, Pet. I have this under contr—”

  Hermes punches him in the nuts, and Ares goes down in a heap. I scream, run toward my Master, but he’s already straddling his twin and stabbing his finger into the bullet wound as Hermes roars. I stop in my tracks, torn between wanting to protect what’s mine and wanting to roll on the floor with laughter. What is wrong with these men that this is how they fight, with junk punches and bullet holes?

  “You fucked it up. We’ll never get her back!”

  “We will get her back. Killing Pet is not going to change that. I meant what I said, Brother. This . . .” He digs his finger farther into his brother’s wound. “This is a fucking warning. You hurt her again, and I will not hesitate to end your life. Are we clear?”

  My skin breaks out in goose bumps. With fury in his gaze, and the coldness in his voice, I’m wet. How wrong that I should find his ruthlessness so arousing, but then, there’s no love lost between Hermes and me. He’d sooner see me dead than tied to his twin, so maybe it’s right that I should be aroused by Ares’ fury and his eagerness to protect me. Isn’t that what I wanted from him all along? His adoration, his pain, and his protection? Isn’t that all any submissive wants?

  Ares stands and holds out a hand to his brother, who begrudgingly accepts—if the sneer on his face is anything to go by.

  “I thought I told you to wait for me upstairs, Pet. Do I need to give you another spanking?”

  “No, Sir. I’m sorry.”

  “I need to tend to Hermes’ wound, and I need you to do as you’re told. I’ll see to your wounds in a few minutes. Assuming my brother doesn’t bleed out all over our kitchen.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Don’t make me come beat your ass. I’m too fucking tired tonight.”

  “I’ll be waiting, Sir.”

  His lips tip up in a smile that forces all of the air from my lungs. How unfair that a predator like him should be so goddamn appealing. It’s no wonder I fell hard for my captor. He might be a god, and I his humble servant, but inside lies the tortured and bruised heart of a man who’s as needy as I am. He just hides it better.

  With a reverent smile, I turn and head up the stairs. It takes a little while to remember which of the seven rooms belongs to Ares, but when I do, I remove my robe and hang it in the closet, and then I kneel on the rug in the middle of the room, spread my legs, place my palms on my knees, and wait. Just like he told me to.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Ares

  I finish patching up my brother and take the bottle of vodka from his hand. He passed out on the kitchen table about twenty minutes ago. Pussy.

  I swig from the bottle and study his inert frame. I could have killed my twin tonight. I would have killed him. If he’d held that glass to her throat a second longer, I’d have riddled him with bullets and not thought twice about it.

  My entire life I’ve been afraid of only two things: my father, and Yegor Vladik. But my fear of both of those men never came close to the terror I felt seeing my brother press a shard of glass to Pet’s jugular as blood trickled from her flesh. I could have fired off a whole round of bullets into my brother and still never been fast enough to save her.

  My feelings for Pet are out of control.

  I am out of control.

  I want to protect her, save her. I want to punish her for making me this way, for forcing my hand and setting her free when it meant losing the only chance I had to save Athena.

  I set the bottle on the counter, and switch off the light before heading up the stairs. In the morning, Rosa and her staff will have one hell of a mess to clean up.

  When I open the door, I find Pet kneeling on the rug in the middle of my room. She’s naked, presenting, and she’s fucking glorious.

  I inhale slowly through my nose and head to the her side. Each step is slow and measured, deliberately drawn out just to torture her. “Who told you to strip naked and present yourself to me?”

  “You did, Sir.”

  “Did I?” I frown in consternation. “I don’t remember this conversation, little one.”

  “You said that I should go upstairs and wait for you.”

  “I meant wait for me in bed.”

  Her doe eyes glance up at me, wide and innocent. This little bitch is playing me for everything I’ve got, but I don’t care. I’ll bite, take the bait, and I’ll fall for it hook, line, and sinker because this girl caught me long before I ever stole her.

  “Are you displeased with me, Sir?” she asks.

  “No, Pet. As nice as it is to see you so eager to please, I need to tend to your wound first.” I take hold of her chin and tilt her head back, inspecting the cut. It’s only a scratch, but one worth looking at closer. “On your feet, in the bathroom, and don’t argue with me.”

  “I would never dream of it, Sir.”

  I give a dark chuckle. “Liar.”

  She rises and heads to the bathroom. It’s a huge space. Almost as big as the bedroom. I knocked out a closet when I bought the house to make it so. There’s a double shower with a bench seat, and a Tantra couch with solid metal rings for rigging embedded in the wall and the ceiling, because you can never have too many places to suspend a naked body from. There’s a huge claw-foot tub in the corner under a window that looks out on all of San Miguel.

  I sit her down on the couch, and she lies back, stretching out on the rich, dark leather.

  “Why do you have a lounger in your bathroom?”

  I smile down at her, and pull her to the edge of the seat, then I spread her legs. I move between them and slip my hand around her throat. She’s at exactly the right height to suck me off, and as she stares up at me with those knowing doe eyes, I grow hard again.

  Pet leans forward and presses a light kiss to my dick. I release her throat and push her back on the chair, so she’s lying down. I can see the pulse jumping rapidly in her neck as I spread her thighs wider and stare down at her cunt. Her arousal glistens in the soft glow of the bathroom light, and I get down on my knees. Not a vantage point she’s used to having over me.

  She props herself up on her elbows, and stares with a curious expression. I grab hold of her thighs and drag her down the seat until her back is bowed with the natural arch of the couch, her tits thrust up, and her chest rising and falling rapidly with each wanton breath. I lower my head to her pussy and lick. She gasps. I bury my face, thrust my tongue in her needy little hole, and seal my mouth over her.

  My Pet writhes. I slip one hand around her ankle and buckle the restraints. Then I move and grab her hands, fastening them both to the leather cuffs by the side of the chair. She looks up at me with that needy come-fuck-me gaze, and I laugh, rise, and walk to the sink, licking her juices off my lips. I wipe my chin with the back of my hand and taste that too, because she’s too perfect to waste a single drop.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Forcing your ass to sit still while I tend to that scratch”—I infuse as much sarcasm as I can into the word—“on your neck.”

  She huffs impatiently.

  I turn to face her. “Something you’d like to say?”

  “No, Sir.” Her tone is sullen. My sulky little pet.

  “Then I suggest you adjust your attitude before I give you an attitude adjustment.”

  She bites her lip, but her eyes shoot daggers at me. I let it slide because I have time to exact her punishment later. We have all the time in the world now.

  “Who’s Athena? Did you fuck her on this chair? Strap her to it and eat her out until she came?”

  “You are seriously out of fucking line, Pet.”

  “I think I deserve to know, since I was about to be sold for a woman I’ve never met.”

  “You don’t think. That’s your fucking job as my submissive, my Pet. You’re to suck my cock, ride it, take your punishments like a g
ood girl, and bend at the waist when I tell you to.”

  “Who is she?” Tears well in her eyes, and her voice is so broken, so filled with bitterness and sadness that I’d do anything to take it away. She’s not even aware of her dominion over me. She has no idea she holds all the power here. I might be holding the flogger, but my Pet has her claws embedded firmly in my heart, and there’s not a fucking thing I can do to free myself. She’s ruination. My ruination. And if she ever figures it out, it will be me kneeling at her feet.

  “She’s my fucking sister.” I sigh, and scrub my hand over my face. “Our adopted sister.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

  “Because I never told you.”

  She frowns, looks down at the floor in front of her. “I don’t understand. How was selling me to Vladik going to get her back?”

  “He has her.”

  “So you were going to trade me for her?”

  “No.” He laughs without humor. “We were going to sell you and then track your location.”

  “Track my . . .” Pet frowns, and I see the second she understands, but she asks anyway. “How?”

  I lean forward. Pet flinches, but I grasp the nape of her neck and run my fingertip over the tiny node buried beneath her skin that tells me exactly where to find her.

  She pulls out of my grasp, but she’s strapped to my chair, and she’s not going fucking anywhere. “You put a tracking device in me?”

  “You’re surprised?”

  “You put a fucking tracker on me!” she spits, her eyes as livid as I’ve ever seen them. It reminds me of those first sweet days of her captivity, watching her turn from a meek little mouse to a mountain lion. “Who does that to a human being?”

  “Someone who doesn’t want their property to get lost.”

  “But I wasn’t your property; you were going to sell me to him.”

  “Careful, Pet. You’re dangerously close to pushing my fucking limits.”

  “I can’t believe I thought . . . I can’t believe you.”

  “You can’t believe me?” I ask with as much authority as I can muster, but right now, I feel anything but authoritative. I’m slipping, losing my edge, and I can’t let her see. “I stole you, beat you, starved you of all your creature comforts. I abused and used you. I fucked you and tortured you until you broke, and this you have a problem with?”

  “I’m not cattle, Ares.”

  “No, you’re not cattle, but you are mine.”

  “Yours until you could get to your sister.”

  “Mine always.” I cradle her face, pinching her cheeks and forcing her lips to pucker. Her eyes are wide. She’s stunned by the sudden violence. Good. Maybe then she won’t see what a fucking fraud I am. “Did you think I’d just leave you there after we got Athena back?”

  I let her go and put some distance between us.

  “I don’t know what to think,” she whispers. “I don’t know you at all.”

  “You know me better than you think, Pet.” I shake my head and walk to the cabinet, pulling free some cotton swabs and disinfectant. She doesn’t pull away when I approach. Not that she can go far with her wrists and ankles tied. I clean the wound and patch up her neck with a small bandage. Then I unbuckle her restraints. Her expression is still sulky, still so fucking cute.

  “Come, Pet. It’s late.”

  “I have questions.”

  I turn and stare at her from the door. “Don’t you always?”

  She frowns, and I know there’s something on the tip of her tongue, but I also know she won’t say it with the hard look I’m giving her. “Your questions will wait until the morning. Come to bed, and don’t make me tell you again.”

  “We need to talk about this, about us.”

  “Right now, the only thing I want to do is see my belt tan your fucking hide for disobeying an order.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  “Are you my sub, or my fucking wife?”

  Her mouth gapes open. I’ve taken her by surprise. “I’m your . . . I’m your sub, Sir.”

  “Then fucking act like it and get your ass into my bed, now.”

  She hurries across the room and slides into bed, yanking up the sheet and rolling on her side, facing the wall.

  I let out an unhappy sigh. I have half a mind to go wake my brother and beat the shit out of him. That’s what we’ve always done, he and I. It’s what our father taught us.

  Instead, I climb into bed and say in a low, gravelly whisper, “Tomorrow, we’ll continue your training. And, Pet, it will hurt.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Pet

  In the morning, we’re woken by the clamor of pots in the kitchen and more shouting, this time in Spanish.

  “Fucking Hermes.” Ares throws back the sheet, revealing his perfect, naked form. I barely have time to appreciate it before he rises and pulls on his jeans. I also forgot that I’m mad at him. “He’s a pain in my ass.”

  “What happened last night?” I’m afraid to ask, but I’m still concerned for my safety, so I’d rather be prepared and know whether his twin is going to try to kill me again.

  “I stitched him up; he took it like a man. Until he passed out like a little bitch on the kitchen table.”

  “And I’m guessing he just woke up?”

  “Rosa would have pushed him off.”

  “Who’s Rosa?” I say sharply, because I don’t like the idea of yet another woman in Ares’ life whom I know nothing about.

  “Oh, Pet, I never get tired of that jealous streak.” His smile is smug, and far too damn pretty. “Rosa is our housekeeper.”

  “Oh. I didn’t—”

  “Know?” The grin deepens. Bastard. “Have you always been this jealous, or do I just bring out the best in you?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” I glance down at the sheets. “I don’t remember.”

  When I glance up again, a crease has formed between his brows. “Still nothing?”

  “Bits and pieces have come back. Songs, some of my ability to dance, the night you took me.” I glare at him, but he just raises a brow and gives me that self-assured smug grin that I hate so much. “I don’t remember my childhood, or my father, or my best friend, and I don’t have a single memory of Parker, my ex-fiancé.”

  “I know who he is, Pet.”

  I snap my gaze to his. “You knew I was engaged?”

  “Of course.”

  Anger ignites in my belly like a flare. “Before or after you took me?”

  “Before. I knew everything there was to know about you when I stole you. I’d studied you for six whole months.”

  “You stalked me?” I ask through my teeth.

  “Why do I get the feeling you have more of a problem with that than the fact that I kidnapped you?”

  “And tortured. You forgot tortured.”

  “Well, we can’t forget that, now can we?” He trails warm fingertips over my collarbone and down my breast, pinching my nipple hard. “If you need to eat, shower, or relieve yourself, you should do it now. Your training begins in thirty minutes.”

  Ares turns and leaves the room, and I slump down in the sheets and wonder why I missed him so much in the first place.

  ***

  After my training, Ares runs a bath for us and I lie back against his chest, cradled by his arms and legs as he washes me with a soft terry cloth mitt infused with the gardenia oil I’d become so accustomed to. My ass hurts, the backs of my thighs too, and I stare at the small indentations his ropes left around my ankles. I close my eyes, safe and warm, feeling like I’m finally home, but there is something else that sours my mood, and destroys the peaceful oblivion I usually find with my Sir’s aftercare.

  I open my mouth to speak, and close it again, only to have the words tumble out of their own accord. “Where is she?”

  “Who, Pet?”

  “Your sister.”

  “Russia.” He sighs. “We think.”

  “You think?”

  “We don’
t know if she’s still alive.”

  “So you were going to sell me to your enemy not knowing if your sister was even alive?”

  “I told you, we planned to get you back.”

  “Like you got the rest of your slaves back?” I sit up, and turn my head to see him better. He’s as calm and relaxed as ever. “Did you tell them the same thing?”

  “They were destined for other masters.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “They were not trained for Vladik,” he snaps and takes a deep breath. “Not all were trained for Vladik. Some were merely a means to an end.”

  “God, do you have any idea how cavalier you sound?” I shake my head and pull free of his embrace. “You’re talking about human lives here.”

  “And human lives paid for this luxurious bath you’re lying in.” My mouth drops open. Ares chuckles. “What do you think paid for this house, and the clothes upon your back, little one?”

  My blood turns to ice. I should have known this. Of course, on some level I suspect I did already know, but hearing him be so blasé about a human life, about my life, hurts my heart. We mean nothing to him. All of us. We’re nothing but a million-dollar paycheck. Isn’t that what Hermes told me before his brother set me free?

  Freedom wasn’t right for me. Without Ares I was an empty shell, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t right for everybody else. He may have made me this way, but Atticus and Violet showed me there was more. To submit means to sacrifice, your will, your humility, your pride, but not your power. Not all of it. I lean forward and shirk away from his touch. “I want you to auction me off.”

  “What?”

  “Sell me to Vladik, and I’ll get your sister back.”

  “No. Absolutely fucking not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re mine,” he roars. The sound reverberates through the bathroom, and I resist the urge to cover my ears. I will not show weakness in front of him. Not now.

  “You were planning to sell me all along. What’s changed?” I don’t need to ask to know the answer. He changed. I changed. We both changed together, and now it’s different.