Ten minutes later, we are in the back of the Rolls with Marco behind the steering wheel. It doesn't take long to reach IVI's compound. I remove the bindings from Ivy’s wrists and feet and pull her from the car, a blanket draped around her as I force her forward. Tonight, there are a few men gathered in the courtyard drinking, but they know not to look too long when they see where I'm heading.
Our identities are obscured by the masks, and when I enter the dimly lit corridor that leads to the Cat House, we will appear just like everyone else.
A guard opens the heavy door, standing aside as we enter the den. Ivy slows in hesitation as the sound of the world around her begins to flood her senses. Whips. Chains. Grunts. Feminine moans and soft, dark music fill the space.
"Santiago?" She turns her body into me, clutching at me as if I could still be her salvation. The very man who leads her to her destruction. The man she should be running from.
I can’t fathom her thoughts, but it feels like a trick. Ignoring her pleas, I drag her deeper into the fray, even as she clings to my cloak. We pass by the scenes of sexual depravity at its finest. The masculine grunts of a dominant sharing his sub with another member are the sounds that produce goose bumps on Ivy's skin. When she comes to a complete standstill, my frustration wins out.
Tearing the blanket off her and discarding it, I force her onto her hands and knees, gripping the chain attached to her collar in my hand. The only identifying mark on her naked body is my tattoo, but it is obscured by her hair right now.
I can feel the eyes of others on her, but right now, my need to exert my dominance is winning out above all others.
"Crawl," I bark.
She shakes as she begins to crawl forward, struggling to hold the weight of her mask up. More than once, she has to pause to lower her head, but she never gives up. She never admits defeat. And perhaps that stubborn will is what draws me in so much. My wife wants to believe she’s a fighter. Determined to handle any punishment I throw her way. But she hasn't seen the worst of me. Not yet.
When we reach an empty station, she collapses into my arms as I hoist her up onto the wooden bench, forcing her torso up over the center cushion. I make quick work of the restraints, using them to secure her in place. She's on her hands and knees, legs spread wide, arms splayed out on the wooden slats in front of her. In this position, she's forced to hold up her head, and already she is struggling.
"Hello, Sir," a feminine voice whispers from behind me. "I see you already have a playmate this evening. But would you like another?"
My eyes are on Ivy as she cranes her neck in my direction. Maybe it's my imagination, but her muscles seem more rigid than they did only a moment ago. She’s frozen, listening carefully for my response.
A cruel smile crosses my face. I haven't even turned to examine the courtesan employed by IVI to work in this den. They are here for our pleasure, and she is only doing her job. But Ivy doesn't know that.
"What do you have to offer?" I ask.
The woman comes around me slowly, kneeling before me as she bows her head. "Whatever your pleasure, Dominus et Deuce."
I glance at her naked form briefly. IVI has high standards for the women in their employ. They must be intoxicating. Beautiful. The loveliest sight a man has ever seen. I would be lying if I said I hadn't visited this place before and partaken in several of these women. But right now, the sight of her kneeling before me gives me no great pleasure.
I only have eyes for my wife, I find, as they drift back to her. She doesn't know it. She’s still waiting anxiously for my response.
"Perhaps you can teach my playmate a lesson," I tell the woman. "Can you show her how to please a man? It seems that art is lost on her."
A wicked smile curves across the woman's face as she nods. "It would be my honor."
Ivy yanks against her restraints, the ropes chafing at her wrists.
"No." The word is a mere whisper, but it is exactly what I need from her.
She is jealous. She doesn't want to share her monster after all. That makes two occasions now I have witnessed this little beast inside her. First, when she uncovered Mercedes’s affectionate nickname for me. And now, the notion that I might actually take another.
The woman before me rises slowly, reaching up for the tie of my cloak. I still her hand and shake my head, leaning in to whisper my instructions in her ear. She listens carefully and then nods, making a quick retreat.
A few silent minutes pass where I watch Ivy's trembling form. She whispers my name once, and I have to stifle the groan of pleasure her desperation produces in me. It isn't logical for her to want to possess me the way I possess her. She should know how dangerous this desire is for her. And still, I find myself questioning it. Is she trying to toy with me, even now? Playing into this fantasy that she could ever truly want me?
"Please don't do this," she begs. "You vowed to be faithful to me. It was the one vow you made.”
Her head is sagging. Body quivering. And she's never looked so beautiful. I need to touch her more than I've ever needed anything. But first, I have to see how far she will go with this lie.
The woman returns as I instructed with another member in tow. He too is in a cloak and mask. He nods at me and drapes the cloak over his shoulders, unzipping his trousers as he helps the woman to her knees before him. Within moments, the sloppy sound of her sucking his dick fills the space between Ivy and me. Silent tears drip down her face under the mask, splashing onto the floor beneath her. I'm close enough to study her in a way that I never have. To watch her muscles straining, her chest heaving as she fights to hold herself upright. Even as she's being humiliated, she continues to fight, refusing to allow her body to give out.
The other member pulls the woman's mouth from his dick and pets her face. They are both silent as he clutches her hand and leads her to the small table near Ivy. He hoists her ass up on top of it and grabs her hips, sliding her toward him until she's exactly where he wants her.
A feminine moan splits the silence as he thrusts into her, skin slapping against skin. Ivy renews her fight, struggling against her restraints, chafing her wrists and ankles as she desperately tries to free herself. I keep thinking at any moment, the illusion will be shattered. She will end the charade and stop acting as if she cares who I take. But it doesn't happen. It never happens.
The sound of her mournful sobs splinter my ears as I circle around her, and it is only when my hands fall upon her back that she freezes.
"Who's there?" she murmurs.
"Who else would it be?" I lean over her body and whisper into her ear.
She sucks in a breath, tilting her head in confusion as she listens to the sounds of the man fucking the other woman not five feet away. I nip at her ear and groan as my palms slide around to her breasts, pinching her nipples between my fingers.
"How does that jealousy taste?" I tease the shell of her ear with my teeth. “I want to hear you say it.”
"No,” she whimpers.
“Does it make you angry?” My fingers move to the apex of her thighs, toying with her as she struggles to contain her emotions.
“I don’t care what you do.” Her head dips, and slowly, she forces it back up, straining against the weight.
“Liar.”
She sucks in a sharp breath as the couple’s fucking grows more frantic. She’s squirming against me as much as her body will allow now, arching her back as I slap at her clit. When she hisses, I do it again, and then follow up with some undeserved tenderness, stroking and teasing her to the brink of her sanity.