by Katee Robert
I set the glass back on the bar. “I wasn’t finished.”
“When’s the last time you ate?”
I blink. “I’m not sure. I was nervous about tonight.”
He nods as if I’ve revealed more than I meant to. “I don’t want you shit-housed, Jasmine. That was enough to take the edge off.”
“But—”
He pushes my glass out of reach. “You can have more later—after you eat something.”
I narrow my eyes, but it’s difficult to be furious with him when the whiskey has already fuzzed the edges. I’m not drunk. Nowhere near drunk. But I don’t feel in danger of fleeing any more.
“Jafar.”
His hand on my neck keeps me from turning, but he rotates me to face the woman behind us. I get a glimpse of purple and bare feet out of the corner of my eye, but nothing else. When he answers her, he’s the coldly polite man I first met five years ago. “Megaera.”
“Hades wants a look at your spoils of war.” Amusement filters into her dry tone. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”
“Pretty doesn’t begin to cover it. She’s exquisite.”
They’re talking about me as if I’m not here, or as if I have no more agency than the chair I’m perched on. I want to snap back, to snarl that I’m a person with my own thoughts on things and not a pretty little thing.
Except I promised to obey.
I take a slow, silent breath. I can do this.
“May I?”
Jafar rotates my chair to face the room and uses his hold on me to nudge me to stand. “By all means.” He gives me a small squeeze and drops his hand, though he remains close enough that I imagine I can feel the heat coming from his body. A small anchor I cling to as I try not to shake.
A single soft finger presses against my chin, lifting my face. I look at her. I can’t help it. They call me exquisite, but this woman is something else entirely. She wears a purple dress that’s almost Grecian, but I suppose that’s to be expected with the theme of this place and the man who rules it. She’s all sharp features that aren’t in the realm of traditionally pretty, but there’s something about the way she holds herself that leaves flutters in my stomach. Lower.
Blue eyes study my face in pieces. Eyebrows, eyes, nose, lips. She strokes my chin almost absently and I can’t stop my shiver. The woman—Meg—laughs. “You’re right, Jafar. She’s exquisite. Are you going to share?”
I can’t move, held captive by her touch, her gaze. But I hear Jafar’s amusement rise to match hers. “It appears my baby girl’s not averse to the idea.”
“Baby girl.” Meg smiles, the expression just as sharp as the woman herself. “I look forward to playing with you when your Daddy gives permission.”
Playing with you.
I can’t stop shivering. I shouldn’t want that, to be shared, should I? I have no idea. My fantasies are only in theory at this point, except for the ones Jafar and I have played out together. Have I touched myself to the thought of more than one pair of hands on my body? Yes. Oh, yes.
But the thought of doing it now? Tonight?
“That’s enough.”
Meg drops her hand and steps back. If anything, the interest in her eyes has increased from this little exchange. “Don’t keep him waiting long.” She turns. I can’t help watching her walk away, can’t quite seem to pull my gaze away.
“She has that effect on people.”
I twist to look at Jafar, my emotions ranging from desire to disbelief. “You’ll share me.”
He shrugs a single shoulder. “It’s open for negotiation.”
“You told her that you’d share me.”
“Come here.” He waits for me to obey, to step between his thighs, to set his hands on my hips. “You want her.”
“I—”
“The truth, baby girl.”
I almost look back in the direction Meg walked before I catch myself. “She’s beautiful.”
“She’s beautiful when she sucks cock, too.” A small smile pulls at the edges of his lips. “And with a whip in her hands. Meg has many facets.”
He speaks with a kind of knowledge that suggests they have some sort of history. He’s had sex with her, has had his cock in her mouth. Jealousy spikes, joining the lust and confusion making me woozy. “You’ve fucked her.”
Jafar studies me long enough that I have to fight the urge to squirm. “Yes, I’ve fucked her.” He leans down until his lips brush my ear. “And now she wants to fuck you. Meg has a thing for ropes and denied orgasms. If I give her permission, she’d tie you up and lick that pretty pussy until you’re begging her to let you come. And she won’t do it. She’ll take you to the edge over and over again, until your pleasure is just as sharp as any pain.” His fingers skate down my hips to the top of the slits on either side of my dress, until he wraps a hand around each of my thighs. “I’ll watch, and when you’re at the breaking point, she’ll untie you and you’ll crawl to me. If you ask very, very nicely, I’ll fuck you while Meg licks that sensitive little clit of yours. A reward for being a good girl.”
“I …”
He dips his hands down farther, his thumbs dangerously close to my pussy. “You’re wet, baby girl. Do you know why?”
Is there a correct answer to his question? I have no idea. “No?”
“Because you want what I just described. You think you shouldn’t, but you do.” He returns his hands to my hips and I can’t stop the protesting sound that flutters in my throat. Jafar raises a single eyebrow. “Not tonight. I’m not in the mood to share you yet. But when I am?” Another of those shrugs that mean everything and nothing. “Maybe I’ll let Meg have her fun. Or maybe I’ll order you to suck Hook’s dick while I fuck you. The options are endless, baby girl. Fucking endless.” He pushes slowly to his feet. “Trust me to take care of you. It’s as simple as that.”
As simple as that.
I might laugh if I could find the breath to inhale. Every experience I’ve had with Jafar has proven time and time again that I can’t trust him. Not true trust. Do I believe he’ll hurt my body in a way I don’t want? No. I crave his touch and I crave the power games we play out.
But trust him with my heart? My soul?
I’d have to be the biggest fool in the universe to hand those parts over to him. To hand anything to him that I don’t absolutely have to. I have so little power in this world. If holding back means I maintain a little of it?
I can’t afford to do anything else.
Chapter 9
Jafar
I knew I’d have to go through this song and dance the first time I brought Jasmine to The Underworld. I counted on it. I can take or leave playing in public, so attending a dungeon isn’t on my list of must haves solely for the sex. Having a membership so I can keep my thumb on the pulse of the city? That’s worth the hefty fee I pay every month and any grandstanding Hades requires.
It doesn’t stifle my irritation as I press my hand to Jasmine’s back and guide her in the same direction Meg took a few moments ago.
My baby girl wants to be shared, and from her reaction to Meg, she’s just as much a fan of women as she is of men.
I didn’t anticipate that.
I turns out I didn’t anticipate a lot of things when it comes to Jasmine Sarraf.
“Remember the rules,” I murmur.
“I remember.” On cue, she drops her gaze to the floor. I don’t need that shit the same way some people in this place do, but I can’t deny a thrill at the easy obedience. It’s likely only because she’s overwhelmed and probably over-sensitized. If the floor felt steady beneath Jasmine’s feet, she’d already have swung at me, have pushed me until I was tempted to fuck her right there against the bar to prove a point. She loves dancing on my buttons, and I can’t quite manage to hold it against her.
I push open the door and hold it while she walks through next to me. Hades does a round through the lounge once a night, but he mostly stays in his private lounge if he’s in the mood to entertain. T
he nights he plays in the public rooms, though, are the kind of nights that draw a crowd. It takes a specific kind of person to hold this place together with the amount of power that moves through its doors, and Hades has the personality for it in spades.
His button pushing irritates the fuck out of me.
The lounge is decorated in the same expensive understated tone as the main room. Sturdy leather furniture, thick carpet, dim lighting except for the trio of sculptures lining the back wall. I hate the low lighting. It gives the feeling of not being able to see the truth, and I have to keep reminding myself not to squint and give even that much reaction. I prefer to see everything in startling clarity. Hades is a fucking romantic.
He waits for us in his favorite chair, a giant piece that could easily fit three people fucking. It has in the past. Tonight, he’s got Meg kneeling at his feet, the very picture of a subservient submissive, her eyes downcast and her hands neatly folded in her lap. Hades sits forward as we cross the room, and I have to fight the urge to step in front of Jasmine to shield her from his gaze. He claims to know what his people want before even they do, to divine kinks as if by magic. The truth is he’s simply excellent at reading people and body language. No magic required.
It doesn’t stop him from dazzling newbies.
“You’re right, Meg. She’s exquisite.” He turns that penetrating look in my direction. “It would take someone special to sideline our Jafar, though, so I suppose that’s to be expected.”
“Hades.”
“Let your baby girl come closer, Jafar. I want a better look at her.”
I bite back a sigh. I shouldn’t be surprised that Meg basically sprinted back here to report on everything we spoke about. She’s Hades’s creature, through and through. It’d be a damn shame if she didn’t seem so pleased by that fact most of the time.
“Go ahead,” I pitch my voice low, though there’s no way Hades won’t hear. No doubt he can see the fine shakes working through Jasmine’s body from where he sits. Desire, yes, but she’s taking in so much, so fast. Too fast. Something else I should have anticipated. The woman has been locked up her entire life, and introducing her to the world outside her father’s walls should be done in small sips, no matter how she chafes at the restraint.
Bringing her here is the equivalent of throwing her off the deep end and expecting her not to panic. At least she trusts me enough to find my touch anchoring, even if she doesn’t realize that’s what’s happening.
If anyone realizes how precarious our balance is at this moment, it would be child’s play to knock us both on our asses. I hold myself perfectly still, as if she is just another sub, I’m just another Dom allowing the master of this place to investigate my property.
“Come closer, child. I won’t bite.” Hades grins, his white teeth flashing against dusky skin. “At least not unless you ask very nicely.”
Jasmine takes the last few steps that bring her nearly close enough for Hades to touch. He doesn’t. He’s too well-mannered for that under usual circumstances, though I can see the calculation in his dark eyes, already considering how to use this development to further his interests. “Jasmine.” He says her name as if he can already taste her on his tongue.
I take a step forward before I catch myself. Damn it.
Hades grins at me. “Got you.” He turns back to Jasmine. “Jafar has been a hard nut to crack. He fucks like a champ, but getting into that deliciously conniving brain of his? Impossible. And here you come, this near-innocent with a taste for …” He inhales deeply as if taking in her scent. Her very soul. “Rough play. Very, very rough play. You like him to force your subservience.” His voice deepens. “I approve.”
“That’s enough, Hades.” It doesn’t matter how he figured it out. I won’t have him stripping her bare here, not while she and I are on such fragile ground.
Hades’s grin turns knife-sharp. “Caged birds always crave the sky, Jafar. You’d do well to remember that.” He takes Jasmine’s hand and presses his lips to her knuckles. “You’re always welcome here in The Underworld, Jasmine Sarraf. If you ever want to bargain, I’m more than happy to make time for you.” He grins against her knuckles. “And if you want to play with our Meg, I’d be delighted to arrange that as well.”
“Hades.”
“Yes, yes, I’m overstepping. Can’t let your prisoner know that there’s a trap door within reach, can we?” He finally releases Jasmine’s hand, but he coasts his thumb over her knuckles in a casual move that sends my blood pressure through the roof. There’s no reason for it. Hades is casually intimate with everyone until he’s not. His touching Jasmine means nothing. Her catching her breath at the feeling of his lips on her skin means jack shit.
I have absolutely no reason to be jealous.
That doesn’t stop me from snapping my fingers at her. “Attend, baby girl.” A reminder of whose hand holds her leash.
The image of Jasmine in a collar, of gripping a chain attached to it, assaults me. I have to shove it away to prevent my body from reacting. Now is not the time for losing control, not while we have an audience watching so closely.
Once Jasmine has taken up a position at my side, I turn my attention back to Hades. “Don’t overstep.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Again, that slow smile that spells nothing but trouble. “As long as you remember to play by the rules. Your little coup has a lot of people looking over their shoulder. It doesn’t suit my interests to have Carver City paranoid and up in arms. Bad for business, you know.”
Ah. So we’ve reached the real reason for this visit. I hold up my hands and affect a casual smile. “No need for anyone to worry … as long as they aren’t thinking of taking advantage of the change in power. I have no intention of expanding territory.” For now.
Hades chuckles. “Somehow, I don’t think that naked ambition shining in those pretty dark eyes will make anyone feel better.” He smoothes a hand over his hair. It’s as perfectly styled as always, the silver in the dark strands lending him a layer of respectability that he plays up for all he’s worth. “Go enjoy yourself, Jafar. But be aware that we’re watching.”
Of course they were. As the newest power player to step up, I’m both a threat and more vulnerable than those who have held their positions for years—and decades in some cases. I have to solidify my base, and quickly, to prevent anyone from making a move that will end with me six feet under.
Tonight is partly about that.
There are those who pay more attention to bloodlines than others, but putting my collar around Balthazar’s daughter’s neck sends a clear message regardless of which side of the line they land on. If I was smarter, that would be the only reason I’m playing the game out like this.
I can pretend I haven’t watched her every day for the last five years, can pretend I haven’t fought my desire for her for the same amount of time. Most people will even believe it.
Not Jasmine.
Even in her relative innocence, she knows better.
I don’t speak as I guide her out of the room, down the hall, and into the main lounge. It’s Jasmine who sighs and says in barely a whisper. “This is all a show for the people he’s talking about. I’m the show.”
I should say yes and create clear boundaries between us. Now is not the time to allow myself to be distracted, no matter how good her pussy is. What’s more, it’s good business to cut her confidence down before she finds her legs. Jasmine was never allowed to stretch her wings enough to find her power when she lived in her father’s home. I’d be a fool ten times over to allow it in mine.
And yet …
I am that fool, because I can’t fucking do it.
“Playing the game protects us and everyone under us.”
“Us.” The faintest of smiles curves her red lips. “Don’t overplay your hand, Jafar. There is no us.” Jasmine flicks a glance around the lounge. There are more people here than there were before. “If the game protected anyone, it should have protected my father.”
/>
“He was careless.” Balthazar was too sure of his power, too sure of his people’s loyalty despite his shitty behavior. He never thought to question it, so it never occurred to him that they would question it, either. I can’t afford to be that arrogant.
Especially not with Ali still out there.
Still a threat.
“Apparently so.” She doesn’t shift away, but I feel her withdraw all the same. “Put on your show. I’ll play the good girl.”
She, better than most, knows the importance of appearances. I open my mouth, but shut it because I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. Comfort her? The very idea is laughable. I want her. She’s under my care and control, which means her safety reflects back on me. That’s all it’s supposed to be.
I know better than to lie to myself, even if I’ll lie to everyone else as the situation calls for it. Jasmine draws me in a way no one else has. It started the moment I laid eyes on her, and everything I’ve learned about her since has only reinforced the truth.
She’s mine.
She was mine long before I ever claimed her.
I take care of what’s mine. It’s the only quality I possess that might keep me from the flames when I die, though it’s a long shot by anyone’s standards. I could break Jasmine. Even though she surprises me in different ways, I know her well enough to make it happen. It’s just the matter of applying the appropriate stressors.
I won’t do it.
I don’t want her broken. I want her strong and fierce and to see what she’s capable of without unwanted bonds chaining her to the ground.
That makes her dangerous in a way I’m not prepared to deal with.
“Jafar?” The way she says my name makes me think this isn’t the first time.
I give myself a shake. “Let me give you a tour.”
