“Relax.” He pulled back the covers and nudged her toward the bed again. She curled up on the mattress, and he covered her with the duvet. “Sleep now. You’ve got lots of new experiences tomorrow.”
The two men left her with a painfully sore ass and only silence to comfort her.
10
Vivian had lain in bed for thirty minutes before she threw off the covers in frustration. The chain barely reached the door. To her surprise, the knob turned easily in her hand. But with the restraining metal cuff, an unlocked door was pointless. A tease.
She flicked the light switch and pushed a button to turn on the flat screen television. Nothing happened. Was it just for show? Her gaze shifted to the security camera overhead, aimed at the bed, red light flashing. Recording her every move. She wondered if she’d be punished for this.
She opened the trunk next and wished she hadn’t. Riding crops, whips, canes, floggers, paddles, nipple clamps, gags, blindfolds, ropes . . .
On one end of the room stood a chest of drawers. The drawers on one side contained lingerie, mostly corsets. The other had swimsuits, white T-shirts, and brightly-colored sporty gym shorts. The top drawer was socks and tennis shoes. Everything was in her size.
She glanced at the cracked bathroom door. She’d kill for a shower about now, if for nothing more than psychological reasons. She knew she couldn’t really clean off anything that happened, but she could pretend.
No matter what Anton had made her say under duress, or how much her body agreed with him, once she’d been left alone, she had some serious fucking doubts. But that was good. Doubts made her sane.
Anton and even Gabe, were hot and took care of themselves. She could see where she might want them in some visceral, primal way. She could even understand where some part of her might want them to bend her over a counter and take her from behind.
But everything else? She shuddered and wrapped her arms protectively around herself, becoming more aware of the physical chain binding her to this location.
She let the shower run for a few seconds to get warm, then stepped into the first private and safe space she’d had since stupidly walking back into Dome.
Once under the spray, the dam burst. She cried over what she’d lost and the unknowns about her future. Would Anton keep his word and sell her to someone who would own her but not abuse her? Or not abuse her beyond the simple act of ownership? Could she be content under someone else’s full command?
She thought about the way Michael had treated her like his maid and how infuriated it made her. Would she have felt differently if there had been a more sexually-dominant edge? If she hadn’t felt caught in limbo between her darkest sexual fantasies and her tame and unfulfilling reality?
Vivian hissed when she turned and the water hit the still-painful globes of her ass. Her hand froze momentarily when she realized both the shampoo and soap were lavender.
When she was clean and had stopped crying, she turned off the water and dried herself. The reflective surface of the mirror over the sink beckoned to her to inspect the angry, red welts. She ran her fingertips over the marks and stared at them for a long time until she saw movement behind her and spun around.
Annette stood in the bathroom doorway, still in the black robe with the leather collar around her neck.
“What are you doing here?” Vivian wasn’t feeling particularly generous toward the woman at the moment.
The blonde’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Vivian fought to bite back a nasty remark. The other woman might push the tattletale button again.
“Vivian, I’m so sorry. Please don’t be angry with me. I had to push the button. He was watching the surveillance footage, and he would have known I was upset. That was what he told me to do. I can’t disobey him.”
She looked like a lost little girl, her pose defensive, genuinely upset she’d done something that had led to distress for another.
Vivian sighed, the anger leaking out of her. “Don’t cry. It’s not like he made me bleed.” She enfolded the other woman in her arms, forgetting about her nudity until the soft silk of the robe pressed against her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, her mons. The curves of her body molded against the curves of Annette, with only a thin scrap of fabric separating them.
A moment later, Annette’s mouth had found and was sucking on Vivian’s pulse point as her hands gently soothed the marks left by Anton’s paddle.
Vivian had always noticed beautiful women and had never been repelled by a hot girl-on-girl kiss. At the same time, she’d never felt the need to explore or experiment, always assuming her heterosexuality was a settled thing.
As Annette’s soft lips kissed a line from Vivian’s throat to her mouth, it seemed perhaps the issue of her orientation was more flexible than she’d wanted to admit. She opened her mouth under the warm, insistent tongue, and felt the first flames of arousal as the other woman let out a strangled whimper against her.
She could taste Annette’s strawberry lip gloss and wanted to eat it right off her mouth. Instead, she gently gripped the woman’s arms and led her back to the bedroom. She fumbled with the tie of Annette’s robe, and soon the blonde’s ample breasts were tumbling out, thrusting into Vivian’s waiting hands.
“Wait,” Vivian said.
“What’s wrong?” Annette looked self-conscious, having come back to herself. “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted . . . ”
Vivian shook her head and pointed at the camera. “It’s not that. What about Anton? Will we get in trouble?” She couldn’t believe those words had just come out of her mouth, as if she were a child waiting for a scolding for taking a cookie from the jar before dinner.
Annette grinned. “He lets me play with any of the girls I want to, as long as they want to.” She glanced back at the camera. “He likes to watch. And it gives him something hot to show prospective buyers.”
A bolt of lust shot through Vivian at the idea of Anton sitting in his bedroom or a private office somewhere else in the mansion, watching the security cameras and jerking himself to the sight of her and Annette in bed together. A mewling sound slipped past her lips at the thought of Gabe, and perhaps even Lindsay watching the performance as well.
Her face burned at the memory of the doctor in the coat room at Sakura. She’d masturbated to the fantasy of letting him finish bringing her off more times than she cared to admit.
She jumped as feminine fingers explored between her legs.
“You do want to play with me, don’t you, Vivian? I can make you feel good.”
She looked into Annette’s eyes and threaded her fingers through her hair. The blonde was so sweet and soft. So pliant and submissive, even with Vivian. It was hard to imagine such a woman would have the nerve to approach Anton at Dome, knowing what he was and what he did, and just offering herself to him to do with as he wished. She was a hell of a lot braver than Vivian.
In answer to the question, she led Annette to the bed.
“I’ve never really . . . with a woman . . . I don’t know what to do.”
A giggle escaped Annette’s mouth. It was the best sound Vivian had heard all day, and she found herself utterly charmed by the woman, no longer upset over the red button.
Annette pushed her gently back on the bed and urged her legs apart. “I’ll do to you what I like done to me, and then you can do it. Okay?”