“I told you never to cut it. I made it a quiet command, whispered it, told you not to remember my command, just the need to obey. I bet you haven’t cut it since.”
For the first time after I’d caught her again, she blushed. “I don’t believe you.”
“I see it worked.”
CHAPTER 4
He’d left a subliminal command, inside me.
Fuck.
What else could he do? The ramifications might be endless. The instructions he could give...
Should I believe him? I couldn’t help wondering, but I must forget that and concentrate.
Freedom. Maybe. He hadn’t answered me properly, yet it was the best answer I was getting. Freedom or my tongue cut off. Though only a threat – he might not carry through, he might be making the worst, sick joke, ever – I didn’t know.
“I have to convince you this is wrong?”
Isak nodded. Behind me, his man waited for God knew what.
While I thought this through, I crept my arms forward to cover my breasts. If ever I needed a calm mind, it was now. How impossible was this? He was the judge and executioner. The bias was clear as day.
“Immoral. It’s immoral.” Obviously. How could he argue against that?
He huffed a harsh laugh. “Morality? Yours or mine? And take your arms off your tits.”
To obey or not to obey. Rhetorical.
He watched as I obeyed. Resisting was as difficult as shoving an elephant uphill, though I could feel the shift of power when I tried.
An errant tear trickled from my eyes. I cleared my throat. “It would depend on that but surely in an argument like this the majority should rule? If you judge any statement by the standards of a pigeonhole society that’s perfect for your case, you could say anything was fine and moral. Killing a whole nation of people? Fine if you’re an ancient Roman or a gestapo member in World War Two. Making women subjugate themselves to you...or to your men, is immoral by the standards of almost any society.
BAM. I had him. I had him.
His eyes narrowed. With his shoeless foot on the edge of the table next to my face, he rocked his chair back and forth.
“I’ll give you a tick for that one.”
The glow of victory bathed my heart in joy for about one microsecond. I suppressed a derisive smirk. Best not to rile. “Good.”
“So instead of the other thing I thought up, I’ll just let Vitor fuck you.”
Stunned, I stared back.
“Ass or pussy?” I heard Vitor say from behind my shoulder, as if he were ordering a meal.
Get up. Run!
My inner thoughts had no link to my limbs and I lay there confused and angry, but unable to move. A piece of spaghetti would have more backbone in the face of Isak’s lumbering mental presence that pressed on me, constantly.
“Whatever you choose.”
Was this punishment for winning the argument?
The center of my forehead ached in a pre-migraine. I heard pants being unzipped. Hands hauled at me and slid me closer to Vitor’s side of the desk. I heard him spit, felt him smear his saliva on me.
“What a good argument you made.” Around Isak’s eyes crinkled, as if he thought to smile but couldn’t recall how to. He placed his forearms on the table and slid his chair nearer.
“You,” I managed to croak.
“What?”
“I want...you. Not him.” God that had taken so much determination to say.
“Really?”
“Yes.” Cultivating the enemy. Self-preservation. And a wish to limit my humiliation. “Please.”
I tensed for the invasion as Vitor’s cock-head probed at my asshole.
Though I squeaked and grabbed the edge of the desk, his man squeezed inside me at least a half-inch. I gritted my teeth.
“If you didn’t amuse me, Red...” Isak covered my hand with his, grabbed my throat with the other. The ownership went far deeper than a normal man’s.
As a mesmer, he sifted deep into my soul, into my head, particles of Isak were like stars seeking the center of the universe, sparking, heating me. My eyes rolled back. The feel of Vitor shunting back and forth, striving to enter deeper...
It was good, but...painful.
Good. Pain.
Then he thrust farther and I screeched.
I hadn’t had sex of any sort for years. “No,” I whined.
“Shhh,” Isak soothed with his masculine wiles, his voice as potent as a quart of whiskey tossed down in one gulp. “Be a good girl. Take his big cock. I’ll even let you come.” His hands tightened on hand and neck, and air became a scarce commodity.
I gurgled through constricted throat, arched back into the thrusts. My asshole burned with fire but I cared little for that when the momentous build of an orgasm had constructed itself in seconds, from one syllable to the next, from one thick, fucking spear of cock to the next.
“Wait. Get out of her, Vitor. Out.”
“Sir?”
“You reminded me of my ritual, correctly. Get out. Pull out. Go.”
“Of course.”
Whatever his reasons, I was grateful, catching my breath, wincing as the last of Vitor left me, then slumping to the desk. I listened to the diminishing footsteps.
Why?
“Look at me.” Isak’s new claw-hold on my jaw lifted my head and made looking mandatory.
I found blue eyes examining me. “Why?”
“Because. I loved seeing your face when you got fucked, but letting him do it first...no. And what’s in your head has made me think.”
Oh fuck. I wondered what he’d seen.
“Crazy man,” I whispered, blinking away sweat as it seeped into my eye.
“I saw what Wolfe did. The break in you.”
Wolfe? I remembered that name, Magnus Wolfe. The man I was chasing in Cuba. He must be a mesmer like Isak, though Isak had never said. It made everything add up.
If I’d been broken that
