Collateral Damage (9 page)

"Yes."

The word sounded lodged in Vince's throat. Like he remembered but didn't want to. But he didn't stop Cyrus from slipping his hand into his pants, down his hip, and around the back.

"But—"

"I've found other's to replace you, Vince, others who I don't respect enough to see as equals." He did something that made Vince grunt and grind his teeth. "But that may change."

I held my breath and watched them, knowing I couldn't stop Cyrus, realizing Vince was just as much a victim as I was. If Cyrus went any further, I would try to stop him. I couldn't help but try.

Thankfully, it didn't come to that. Cyrus withdrew his hand and nodded as though Vince had said something he approved of.

"Good. I'm glad we agree." And then Cyrus turned away from us both and walked out.

Vince slumped against the desk and let out a sound—a broken sound like a strong animal caught in the jaws of a steel trap, ready to chew off its own leg just to escape. My insides clenched and bled for him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and whispered platitudes that meant nothing. "It's going to be okay" and "Don't let him get to you." Things you'd say to children being bullied at school even though you knew every cruel word held a razor's edge and cut into them, making them feel worthless and weak.

And Cyrus wasn't just a bully. He'd abused Vince somehow. No. Not somehow.

It didn't take much imagination to figure it out. To figure out what Vince was trying to spare Alrik. What I must spare him.

"Get off me." Vince pushed me away and straightened. "We have one night left before you go back where you belong. Let's not waste it."

Chapter Seven

Vince brought me to his bed, threw me down, and then ripped my clothes off as though they offended him. Flipping me over, he pushed me face down on the mattress.

"I am not weak." He spread my ass cheeks and pushed his thumbs against my anus like he would shove them both inside. "You are. You are mine, and I can use you however I like because you don't have the strength to stop me."

His thumb pressed against me hurt, but I did my best to relax and let him in. I wasn't sure how far he'd go before he got a hold of himself. Somehow, I knew any resistance would just push him further over the edge.

"I am yours." Tears burned my eyes as the sting of penetration tore through me, but I managed not to cry out. "And that's why you can use me. Because I've given myself to you."

"Nicole." He said my name as though he'd just realized who I was. As though I hadn't been anyone before. Anyone that mattered that is. He kept one thumb at my back hole, but lay beside me, sparing me the extra pressure of his weight. "I should stop, but I need his. I can't explain . . . ."

"Don't try." I covered his lips with my fingers. "Do what you have to."

He groaned and kept pushing, pressing, until the dry scrape of his calloused thumb became everything. A ball of pure, raw pain that seemed to rip me open. But I took the pain because I knew he needed to give it to me. As it had been given to him.

Only I accepted it. Almost welcomed it. Any way I could help heal him was worth whatever happened now.

"Not like this." He whispered in my ear before leaving me.

The burning sensation remained, not getting any better, but at least not getting any worse. He shuffled around the room and returned, dropping several things on the bed by my hips before sitting and spreading me open again. Something cool spilled down the crease of my ass, soothing the sting.

"This is bigger than I wanted for your first time, but smaller going in than I would be." He slid something in the liquid and pushed it against me. "Only I can remove it—and I will in a little bit, but then you'll keep it in until I see you again. That way no one can take this from us."

I cried out as my back hole was forced open around the hard thing. More liquid pooled around it, making passage easier, but it still hurt like hell. I twisted to escape it, but Vince shifted to lie across my thighs.

"Push against it, love. Resistance increases the pain."

The pain, yes, but pushing against it humiliated me. To allow the violation . . .

still, I could feel how much smaller the thing was than Vince. It would shield me from others going
there.
Which was good.

If only I could convince my body.

His hands worked at the object, and it grew inside me. I whimpered. I heard a click. And then Vince left it and lay down at my side.

"Shh. All Done." He stroked my cheek and kissed me. "Promise me you'll do whatever Lacy says. She's been with Cyrus for months, she can prepare you for whatever twisted way he chooses to test you. Her only value is how much she can take from him . . . if you can do even half that . . . ."

"I will." No question there. I had to hold on, just a little longer, for Alrik . . . and Vince if I could. "But you have to promise me something in return."

He delved his hands into my hair and slid his lips up my jaw. "I shouldn't, but yes, if I can I will."

"Let me teach Alrik my way tomorrow. Cyrus doesn't have to know."

Drawing away from me, he looked into my eyes as though trying to figure out why I'd asked what I had. Then he nodded. "From this point on, when it comes to Alrik, we do things your way."

"Thank you." I burrowed into his shoulder, letting the hard muscles of his arm and chest surround me. "And we'll do everything else your way."

"Everything?" He reached down, and suddenly I felt him, hard and ready between my thighs. "What about now?"

I sucked in air, a little freaked out by the way my body said
Yes!
Even though physically, I couldn't see how he would fit. "I'm full. That thing—"

"You can take more." He drew one of my thighs over his hip and slipped himself back and forth between my soaking wet folds. "You'll have to."

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lowered my head to his shoulder and nodded. He drove into me with one smooth thrust and went still. My insides undulated around him, throbbing where I stretched beyond what I'd ever thought possible. As he began sliding in and out, I let go and simply accepted his presence. Accepted him.

By the time the night was over, we were both spent. And satisfied. We both had something to prove.

And maybe, just maybe, we'd taken a step in proving it to ourselves.

Chapter Eight

Lacy was waiting for me when Vince brought me to my room. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, dressed in a transparent, pink, babydoll negligee, the tiny brunette fingered a thick strip of suede, her lips pouting out as she looked at Vince.

"Hers is nicer than mine." She touched the chain link that circled her throat. A small black lock hung off one big loop. "How come?"

"Because I chose hers." Vince's lips curled a little as he snatched the suede strip from her. "If you don't like yours, go bitch to Cyrus."

I frowned at Vince, a little surprised by his attitude.

But it didn't faze Lacy at all. She simply huffed and stretched out into the pose of those naked women decals often seen on big trucks. "Why are you always so mean to me?"

"I am not mean." Vince motioned for me to kneel, watching my face as I lowered carefully, his brow creasing as I tried to find a comfortable position.

Very difficult with something stuffed inside my ass.

"Yes, you are. You haven't even told me how pretty I look." She hopped off the bed and knelt gracefully beside me. "And I wore this just for you."

Jesus. What a fucking bitch.
I ground my teeth, doing my best not to glare as Vince tipped my chin up with his fingers. He could have told me Lacy was his lover.

It shouldn't matter, but it did. I hadn't expected competition. It could complicate things.

"Nicole." Cupping my jaw, he waited until I'd focused on him, and shook his head. "Don't assume anything. She is here for you. She means nothing to me."

My lashes fluttered shut. I nodded.
Good. That's good.

"You can't honestly say you didn't enjoy fucking me." Lacy said.

Vince growled. "Yes. I can."

I slit my eyes open as Lacy rose and stomped across the room. I smiled a little.

From her reaction, she knew Vince was telling the truth.

"Eyes on me, love." Vince gave my cheek a little tap. When he had my full attention, he held up the length of suede. "Hold your hair out of the way, so I can put this on you."

It took me a little while, but it finally occurred to me what "this'" was. My eyes widened, and I shook my head. "No."

He sighed and brought it to my throat. "Nicole—"

"No!" I pushed off my knee and skirted around him, then sidled past the table where Lacy sat, looking thoroughly entertained. "I've done everything you've asked, but this . . . you're not turning me into some kind of animal! I'm not an animal! I'm not! I thought you understood!"

"Stop."

The way he spoke made both Lacy and I go completely still. I cringed as he came toward me, but didn't move a muscle.

"I've told you. Do. Not. Question. Me." He fisted his hand in my hair and then dragged me to the table, snarling at Lacy. "Get out of the way."

Lacy scrambled out of sight. Vince pushed me over the table, positioning me so my feet didn't touch the ground. I heard him taking off his belt and whimpered.
Not
again!

"Twenty. And this time I won't fold it."

By the time I'd counted all twenty, welts scored my ass and thighs, scalding, broken blisters and trickling blood. Vince turned me over so I was lying on my back and tore my clothes—my silk blouse, my black pencil skirt—to shreds. He used his weight to hold me down while he put the collar around my neck.

Then he held out his hand to Lacy. "The cuffs."

Silently, she brought him a pair of cuffs that matched the collar.

"Leash."

When he clipped on the leash, I sobbed. Tears blinded me as he used it to lead me away from the table. He shoved me to my knees, attached the leash to the foot of the bed, and then pulled my wrists behind my back to snap them together.

"She stays here until I return." Vince said. "Teach her what you can."

Lacy nodded, wringing her hands, staring at the closed door once he'd slammed it behind him.

Once his footsteps faded, she turned and slapped me, speaking right over my hiss of pain. "You stupid little cunt. You're lucky enough to get Vince, of all the men here, and you act like that?"

"What does it matter to you?" I ran my tongue over the deep cut in my inner cheek. "You've apparently had him, and Cyrus, and—"

"I survived." She spat on the floor in front of me. "And more. I got Cyrus to love me. He gives me everything I want. Including Vince until you came along."

Cyrus gave her Vince?
I shook my head. "Cyrus forced Vince to fuck you?"

"He didn't have to force him, he loved every second, don't let him fool you." She smirked. "Though I'll admit, he didn't enjoy Cyrus stuffing his dick into my pussy with his. He gets uncomfortable whenever he has to do something sexual with Cyrus. I'm not sure why—Cyrus is an awesome fuck."

"You're disgusting. How could you make Vince—?"

"It makes Cyrus happy. And I will do anything to make him happy." She folded her arms under her breasts, gazing down at me like I was a new puppy that had just taken a dump on her kitchen floor. "You know, the whole collaring thing is supposed to be special. And you ruined it."

Had I? What if she was right? What if the gesture had meant something to Vince and I'd . . . ?

No. No sentimental bullshit. The only thing I'd done wrong was balk at something trivial—again—and possibly set back whatever progress I'd made with Vince. I'd promised to let him train me. Even if I was just pretending to really
be
trained, I should keep up the act. Always.

Which meant I should act sorry. Very, very sorry. Lacy would no doubt report back to Vince and . . . .

I swallowed and looked up at her. "Will you tell Cyrus?"

She laughed. "Do you think I'm crazy? I won't lie to him, but if I can avoid giving him any reason to take a personal interest in your training, I will."

Too late. But I wouldn't tell her so.

"What can I do to make this up to him?" I asked.

Half turned away from me, she paused, glanced over her shoulder and studied me for a moment. Then she went to the bed and grabbed a pillow.

"Here." She plopped it on the floor in front of me. "Lay on this. I'll check the welts."

Lying over the pillow, I rested my cheek on the floor and rolled my shoulders to ease some of the tension in them. I squeezed my eyes shut as she prodded the back of my thighs. Bruises were setting in, and some of the places she touched oozed fresh blood.

"He got you good. Stay here, I'll get some cream to speed up the healing.

Knowing him, he'll feel bad when he sees this, and that won't help."

"Why not?" I asked before she could leave.

Standing by my head, she scrubbed her hands on the front of her negligee, leaving blood smears on the diaphanous fabric. She seemed to be debating whether or not to answer.

Finally, she did. "I've been with Cyrus for months—longer than any other woman, according to Darryl. I did that by becoming whatever he wanted me to be. He got bored of trying to break me; it was more fun for him to find new fucked-up things to do to me. And when I started suggesting them—I think that's when he really fell for me."

"What does any of this have to do with Vince?"

"He's just like Cyrus." She hesitated and smiled a sweet, little smile, the kind a school girl might have when thinking of her crush. "You're his property. Show him you want to be. You need to be. That you wouldn't have it any other way."

I hid my face in my arms, afraid my eyes would betray me. "Thank you."

"No problem, honey." She went to the door, saying just before she stepped out.

"And, hey, sorry for slapping you. I guess I was a little scared you'd piss Vince off so much he'd give you to Cyrus, but I think you'll do all right."

Only once she was gone did I let the tears fall. Over and over, I whispered to myself. "I'll be fine. I'll be fine because Vince is
nothing
like Cyrus."