Sedition (8 page)

“This is why you should never have been a slave, Sascha,” he mentions casually. “A waste of potential. You’re capable of changing things.”

I smile. I’m learning that slaves can change things, too, if they’re lucky. “What would you have done if you hadn’t found me?”

He shrugs. “Spent years working on this, struggling, waiting. Gotten exposed, probably. With your help, from what you’ve told me, this could be live in just a few months. Without it… I was thinking four, five years, maybe. Five years of risk.”

“How is it any less risky to do it more quickly?” I ask.

“Less chance of being found out,” he replies, smiling a little. “Once the data is out, it can’t be erased. Not from public record, not from people’s minds. They stopped me before that happened last time; this time, it can’t happen again. You’re a part of that.”

He pauses, looking a little nervous. “I mean, if you want to be.”

I still haven’t answered. I still haven’t decided yet. Would I trade safety to satisfy my curiosity, like he has? I’ve done it before, but never on this scale.

“Can I try, just to see, without committing?” I ask, bracing for him to say no.

“Of course,” he replies. “I want you in on this. I need you. But I won’t force you.”

I smile at him. It’s so much more than I expected. I’ve thought he was cruel on so many occasions, but what’s more accurate is that I wasn’t his top priority. From that perspective, I had a big part in earning the punishments he doled out; it’s not as though he beat me for no reason. He’s been rather lenient, given the scale of things. “I hope I didn’t mess anything up for you.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll consider it settled if you’ll do the same.”

As is typical, he doesn’t apologize, nor does he demand that I do so. Things are uncertain, but at least I know what’s going on. I lean against his side, missing his touch, and I’m surprised when he puts his arm around me. He’s never touched me like this while we worked, but then, we’ve never been in bed revealing our deepest secrets. I think of my own secrets, Abriel, but I can’t tell a man who would casually “euthanize” a batch of slaves that I helped my brother evade the Demoted system. I don’t trust that his generosity will extend past his own interests.

He must notice my discomfort, because he gives me an uncertain look. “Is this all right?”

I’m startled, but not offended or anything. As much as I thought my crush on him was gone after the party and the subsequent humiliation, I do like the way he feels against me. In between all of the stealth and goals and planning, I remain attracted to him.

“You don’t have to say yes,” he informs me before I can even formulate an answer, his tone suddenly serious again. “You can say whatever you want.”

I consider it. “You said you’d sell me if I didn’t want to research with you…”

My master shakes his head. “This is different. This is personal. I don’t want you to feel like you have to. The other night, you agreed, you said you’d do it if I wanted you to… I never want that. I hope you have enough respect to tell me whether you want to have sex with me?”

“I guess I do,” I answer, trying not to sound too decisive. Playing hard to get. I do want to, but I think I should be less willing. I want it to be harder for him.

He glares at me. “Sascha, I’m pretty sure I’ve told you before that you can stop when you’d like, and you didn’t hesitate to turn me down the other night, even when we were on bad terms. I’d appreciate a clear answer.”

“Yes,” I mumble, feeling ridiculous. “Happy?”

He takes his tablet from my hands, leans over me, and places it on the nightstand. I lean out of his way, and once the tablet’s gone, he shifts, pinning me there. I try not to get turned on. I fail.

“Are you angry at me for wanting to fuck you?” he asks. “Because, last I checked, you enjoyed it when I fucked you, and I know for a fact that I enjoy it, so I cannot think of a reason why we wouldn’t do it.”

Because it’s too fast. Because I want to punish him. Because, an hour ago, I had swore never to have sex with him again. But I didn’t know then what I know now, and he hadn’t approached me with some offer to be partners on something. Because I want to prove that I’m not just some sex-crazed slut who’s addicted to cock, even though I know
he
doesn’t think that. Instead of answering, I contemplate the minimum time that I should put between hating my master and wanting to fuck him.

“Would it help if I buttered you up and gave you head?” he asks, finally.

Of course it would. He’s fucking amazing at giving head. And that would be him servicing me, right? I try to convince myself that that’s the reason I’m growing more excited, not the weight of his body above mine. “Maybe,” I mumble, trying to smile at him. There’s not even a word for what I’m feeling right now. Something between horny and spiteful and grateful and curious. Try finding that on a feelings chart.

“Still won’t give me a straight answer, will you?” he mutters, tugging my pants down anyway.

I don’t grace that with a response, but I have no desire to stop him from undressing me. Actually, I lift up my hips to help. He obviously wants to go down on me, and I can’t say I want to turn him down. In fact, as he takes my cock into his mouth, I definitely don’t want to turn him down, and the ridiculously breathy sigh that escapes my lips confirms that.

I don’t know why it’s so mind-blowing every time he gives me head; he does it fairly often, far more often than I return the favor. Maybe it’s because it’s something I never expected. The men I’ve been with in the past have almost always wanted me to service them, not the other way around, but with Cash, it’s like it’s his way to still be in control. He might be on his knees with a mouth full of cock, but he knows as well as I do that he’s the one pulling all the strings. I don’t even think to challenge him.

Not like I have a chance to as his hands work their way around me, teasing out the areas that need additional stimulation, brushing past my ass almost innocently. God, that feels wonderful. I forget everything that happened between us, focusing on the sensations, on the way he makes me feel. I relax back down on the bed, letting him work me over, letting him bring me almost to climax before stopping.

He comes up slowly, lifting me back farther on the bed as he does and trapping me with his arms and legs as he hovers over me, predatory and sexy. He grips my jaw firmly and turns my head to face him, catching my eyes.

“The truth, Sascha, do you want to fuck?” he asks. His voice is completely serious, calm and controlled, as always. “I do want to be inside of you again, but I wouldn’t force you, and I don’t want to coerce you. Hell, even if you just want me to suck your dick and then leave, I won’t push you. I always want you to want this.”

Well, if I wasn’t hot for him a minute ago, I am now, hot enough that I can let my pointless rage go and admit to both of us how I’m feeling. “Yes, Cash, I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me every night until I scream, even when I’m angry at you, unless I explicitly tell you that I don’t. But even when I’m angry at you, I’m still attracted to you. I still want you to fuck me.”

He smiles.

Asshole.

Then he gets some lube, which makes me feel a little better. Okay, a lot better. Okay, a
whole
lot better. I’m trying to forget his stupid smirky smile and focus on the slippery finger he’s introduced, but he insists on talking.

“You know, I didn’t quite mean that I needed
that
much confirmation,” he teases, taking advantage of the fact that all I want to do is fuck and squirm and moan my pleasures for the next hour or so. “But I appreciate it. I enjoy that you like this.”

I make some sort of pathetic whimpering noise of joy as he makes quick work of getting me ready, his fingers relentless and practiced as they stretch me out. He grips me by the hips and shoves me further onto the bed, pausing for a moment. I’m drawn out of my blissful trance by the frown on his face as his hands linger on one of the more visible bruises left from the other day.

He doesn’t say anything, but he sees that I’ve noticed him. He smiles at me and drives himself into me, making me forget anything else is happening as I’m caught once again in passionate bliss.

He doesn’t take his time, and I appreciate it. He’s completely inside of me in seconds, thrusting hard and forceful as he holds me in place by my hips. It’s such a familiar feeling, something that I’ve grown so used to and so happy with over the past few weeks. I missed fucking him, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I missed being close to him in general.

It’s not long before I feel myself aching to come, to find the release that I’ve rarely bothered to seek out on my own in the past few days. He’s too careful, though, too gentle, and I want that little edge of pain that will put me over the edge. I squirm underneath him.

“Cash,” I whimper, putting my hand up to clutch at his arm. His arms are so sexy. He’s so sexy. God, I wish I could just get off already! “Please?”

“What do you want?” he asks, leaning down to whisper the question in my ear.

He knows damn well what I want. “Cash, don’t make me beg?” We’ve talked about it before, and I don’t like to beg for it.

“Sascha, what do you want me to do to hurt you?” he clarifies. “I don’t want you to beg. You don’t like it and it does nothing for me in this context, either.”

Oh. I forget that he does this sometimes, actually asks what I want him to do, or how he should hurt me. It’s strange, but he can be considerate when he wants to be. I can’t bring myself to tell him that it doesn’t really matter what he does, that any old pain will do, regardless of who or what causes it. Hell, I could probably get off from a fucking bee sting right now.

“Teeth,” I mumble, feeling my face burn as I say it. It does actually turn me on to be bitten, it always has, but the few times Cashiel has done it it’s blown my mind.

He nods, looking serious as usual. “Where?”

I want to scream “wherever the fuck you want!” but I figure that won’t end well. “My chest,” I whisper, feeling embarrassed again. “My shoulders.” All over, is what I really mean, but I don’t say that. I have some shame left.

That shame disappears as I feel his teeth grazing my neck, my collarbone, my chest. It’s wonderful, and he bites me in time with his thrusts, each one a little harder. He pauses the biting, which draws a grunt of frustration, but then he grabs me by the hair and pulls me close for a kiss. To say I’m caught off-guard is an understatement. I yelp and writhe underneath of him, startled by the sudden closeness. We rarely kiss, but when we do, it’s enough to bring me to my knees, except I’m lying on my back.

I’m still melting from the kiss when he goes back to biting me, harder this time, enough that I don’t know whether to pull away from the pain or lean closer as he brings me closer to orgasm. He doesn’t give me the choice, though, he pins me down with his body as he bites harder, trapping me with the pain, driving into me roughly. I cling to his arms as I come, the pressure of his body on mine sending me over the edge. I cry out as he continues to fuck me, harder now that he’s more excited, and I’m relieved when he stops biting so hard and contents himself with pressing his lips against my skin. It’s not long after that he comes as well, capturing me with that penetrative gaze that he has.

After a few moments he pulls out, and I wince when I feel the sting in my ass and in all the places he’s bitten me. I know there will be bruises, but they hold good memories. Still, his hand traces over them.

“A lot of training goes into making someone so dependent on pain,” he comments.

I shrug. “It was a gift.”

My master looks at me, doubtful.

I sigh. I did set this up for an explanation. “My trainer was fond of me. She knew I’d be in for a lot of pain, given my attitude and all, and she saw what she described as ‘potential’ in the way I reacted to pain. She helped me to use it for sex, like an enhancement, rather than just feel the hurt of it.”

“And now you can’t come without it,” my master muses. “Hell of a gift.”

“She didn’t expect her training to work so well.” No, actually, she had been horrified when she realized I basically
couldn’t
come without some sort of pain. More horrified than I was, to be honest. I had learned quickly enough that sex and pain were closely correlated for a slave, and I accepted it. “It made life less unpleasant.”

“I suppose.” My master is quiet for a moment. We lie together for a while. He strokes his hands across my skin, feeling the scars that decorate my body like bad graffiti. He stops at the bruises again.

“Do they still hurt?”

I shake my head. He must know that they don’t, given the amount of expertise he has, but I suspect he just likes hearing it from my lips. “No, sir. You’re remarkably capable of hurting me without causing any lasting damage.”

“You’re not the only one who’s been trained,” he says softly. “It was ingrained into me from the time I was old enough to understand. Slave training. Torture. Punishments. My mother ran our home as strictly and efficiently as she did her re-education centers. I only hope I’m not so dependent on it.”

“Do you enjoy hurting me?” I ask. It’s an odd question, but I want to know. I want to know if he gets off on my pain like Torenze did.

“No,” he answers, confirming what I’ve thought all along. “And if I thought something else would get through to you, I would do that instead.”

“Others have done worse,” I point out. I think I’m trying to make him feel better, but from the way he stiffens up, I think I accomplished the opposite.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his face actually showing regret for once. “You don’t deserve this kind of treatment.”

“Thank you.” I can’t excuse him, because it’s not excusable, and I can’t forgive him, because how is it my place to forgive my master for doing something that he is well within his rights to do? So I say thank you, because I want to acknowledge it somehow, and this is all I’ve got.

“Whether it happens again or not is up to you, Sascha,” he reminds me. “I have to keep up appearances, and if you slip up in public again, I will beat you or humiliate you or both. But I’ll do my best to make sure you aren’t put in a situation like that again. Please, be careful. You know the situation now, know what’s at stake, and I know you’re smart enough to keep your mouth shut. If you need a break, or if you want out all together, tell me. I’ll do what I can.”