Slave to Love (43 page)

The thick scent of sexual desire permeated the room. Two dozen men stood transfixed watching the scene onstage, a few frantically fucking any slave woman within reach.

Mick wanted to fuck Caro the same way. Fast and furious from behind, spilling all the pent-up desperation and anger of the past two months into her as he spewed his seed deep inside her hot passage.

He could hear her climax start. In her panting, mewling cries, louder and more desperate with each smack on her ass. He could feel it in her breasts, in the tight kernels of her nipples and swelling of the flesh around them. Could see it in the way she writhed and bucked with every delivered stroke.

And then she screamed.

“Don’t stop,” he warned Bobby and Cody. “Not until she does.”

He pinched and rolled her nipples, wringing more writhing, sobbing cries from her. Waiting for her legs to give out and her hands to release the pole.

He caught her around the waist just as her knees buckled.

***

“Mick,” Caro pleaded as Mick swung around and grabbed her.

Pleading for what, she wasn’t sure. Support? Reassurance? Absolution?

Something more?

She should feel humiliated by what had just happened. Ashamed, or at the very least mortified. She felt none of those things.

All she felt was devastating pleasure. Her limbs quivered from repletion, her bottom stung with spent arousal, her sex throbbed with lingering guilty fulfillment. Her mind refused to think about what she had just done, or deal with the creeping unease that her soul had been laid so bare at the hands of Bobby and Cody, and the rest of the men in the room.

“Shhh. It’s okay,” Mick murmured. “I’m here.”

Beneath her blindfold, she pressed her eyelids closed. “I can’t believe I—”

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are right now, little slave?”

She felt him move behind her, and heard the metallic rasp of a zipper.

“There isn’t a man in this room who wouldn’t lay himself at your feet right now and beg you to be his.”

“I should never have told you that story,” she whispered half-heartedly, trying to be angry with him for bringing her to this new, amazing level of discomfiting self-awareness. But failing.

“You knew I’d use it well. And now I own your spanking fantasy. It’s
my
face and body you’ll see,
my
voice you’ll hear from now on, not his.”

He pushed into her, and she knew he was right. She moaned with pleasure as he hilted, filling her from behind with his thick length.

“Touch her!” she heard him order Bobby and Cody gruffly.

She sensed them closing in at her sides. She tugged at her bonds, writhing helplessly when their hands grasped her breasts and began caressing her flesh all over.

“No,” she moaned. This was not fair! Her body was so lit up from arousal she didn’t stand a chance against the combined onslaught of their hands and Mick’s cock thrusting in and out of her. Pleasure slammed into her.

“No!” she cried.

Mick groaned loudly, and she knew he was starting to climax. He loved it when she resisted, and she loved fighting him. She struggled harder, yanking at the silk scarf tying her to the post, squirming away from her tormentors. Making Mick hold her hips in an iron grip.

“
Stop
!” she screamed, feeling the first hot spew of semen against her womb. She screamed again as her own muscles contracted around him and catapulted her over the edge of bliss once more. “
Noooo
!”

All at once the air was rent by a yell not her own. A vicious, animal-like roar of male outrage.

“
Leave her alone
!”

For a split second everything went absolutely still, except for Mick’s final thrust deep into her. Suddenly, he made a choking noise, a sound she’d never heard from him before, and his body was brutally yanked from hers.

“Hey!” Cody yelled, and a furious scuffle ensued on the stage behind her. Someone hit the wooden floor with a loud thunk and a grunt of pain.

Chaos erupted all around. Amid a cacophony of shouts and running feet, panic avalanched over Caro. She had to get this blindfold off!

“Mick?
What’s going on
? Mick! Talk to me!”

Totally exposed and vulnerable, tied to the post like a sacrificial lamb, she wrenched at her bonds, this time in earnest, picking frantically at the knot.

“Mick,” she whimpered, tears stinging her eyes. If he would just say something! Anything!

She bowed her head and tore off the blindfold with her fingers just in time to see Lauren jumping onto the stage brandishing her handcuffs. Caro wrenched around. Smythe was on his stomach on the floor, Cody sprawled over his back and Bobby holding down his flailing arms as Lauren struggled to put the cuffs on him. A bloody knife lay by his side.

“Get the bastards off me!” Smythe screeched. “Lauren! How can you do this! I was saving her!”

“Shut up, Rodney,” she snarled, snapping the metal ring in place. “We know exactly what you were doing. And this time you’re going to fry for it.”

Frantically, Caro searched the stage for Mick. When she finally saw him, she screamed again.

But this time in horror.

Mick lay on his stomach, his tuxedo jacket splayed around him like a tattered flag, shredded by two long slashes. An oblong blood stain slowly spread across the center of his back. His fingers gripped the wooden floor of the stage in evident pain.

“Mick!” she screamed.

“He was raping her!” Smythe yelled, his voice high-pitched and hysterical. “The bastard was raping her! They all were! I had to stop them!”

Mick groaned and Caro pulled frantically at the last knot in the scarf, finally getting free. She ran to him, throwing herself to her knees beside him, terrified to hurt him more by touching him, but desperately needing contact. She laid her hand on his cheek as a man in a green jacket knelt on his other side, announcing he was the house doctor.

“Baby, can you hear me?” she said above the din of the crowd. Cody ran over to them. “Get everyone out of here,” she cried. “The doctor needs quiet.”

Cody nodded and began herding people away, giving the doctor space to work.

“Help me get his jacket off,” he ordered.

“I’m fine,” Mick said with another groan. “Just need to sit up.”

“Not a chance. You’re bleeding,” Caro informed him, relief twirling through her like a top. He was cranky. That had to be a good sign.

“Just nicked me,” Mick said, struggling up.

The doc grabbed his arm and helped him sit. Together they peeled the slashed jacket down his shoulders and off. Caro let out a breath. Underneath, his shirt was hardly touched, save one ugly gash starting right behind his heart and ending at his waist. Blood oozed from the wound beneath, but it didn’t appear too deep.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Caro said as tears flooded her vision. The doctor ripped Mick’s shirt away and she gingerly put her arms around his neck. She wanted to hold him tight and never let him go. “That was close. Too close.”

“Tell me about it.” He helped the doctor peel the shirt completely off, wincing at the movement, then put his arms around her and kissed her. “But you did great.”

“Hell, I was tied to the damn pole the whole time. But you got him, Mick.
You did it
.”

“With a little help from my friends,” he said, glancing over at Bobby and Cody who were getting ready to haul off Smythe. But Mick’s smile didn’t even reach the crinkles around his eyes.

Whatever the doctor was doing to his back must hurt like hell.

“Will he need stitches?” she asked.

“About fifty, I’d say,” the doctor said, and Mick groaned. “Small ones. Unless you want a big scar.”

“Scars can be sexy,” Mick said in that stubborn tone men used when trying to avoid something they didn’t want to do.

“Forget it,” she said. “No scars.”

“Hey, I’m the Master here,” he reminded her gruffly. But she could tell his heart wasn’t in it. This time.

“Yes,” she whispered nevertheless, and kissed him.

“You can drop the act now, McGraw,” Lauren said, coming up and rolling her eyes. “Our guys arrested Rodney Smythe and he’s on his way to lock-up.”

“What act?” Mick said mildly, his gaze holding Caro’s.

“
Our
guys?” Caro asked, nestling possessively against his chest as the doctor finished bandaging his back. What the hell was
Lauren
doing here? She was still naked, but parading around like she owned the place, looking somehow...official.

“FBI. That’s who I work for now.” Lauren sent an apologetic shrug to Mick. “Sorry, I couldn’t get hold of you to tell you.”

“You work with
Tim
?” Caro asked incredulously, seeking him out among the small group of cops who had gathered around them.

Woodruff, standing close by, stepped forward and slid his hands around Lauren’s waist from behind. “Different division. Special Agent Adams is undercover mostly...as it were.”

Lauren spun from his hold, slapping his hands sharply. “Quit the jokes, asshole. And I told you, no touching.”

“What about fucking?”

“Drop dead, Woodruff,” she said, and stalked off in her spike heels looking confident, dangerous and sexy.

The cops around them chuckled as Tim grinned at her rebuff, but every one of them watched spellbound as her pert little backside strode out of the room. In the hall Lauren greeted Rebecca with a kiss and linked arms as they headed for the stairs together.

“She undercover, too?” Caro asked idly, trying to keep from laughing at the men whose tongues were practically hanging at their knees. What was it about lesbians that straight guys found irresistible?

“No.” Woodruff cleared his throat and redirected his gaze to Caro, sweeping it appreciatively over her body. “You, on the other hand...”

Suddenly she remembered she was also still naked. And recalled all the things she’d done tonight—in full view of Tim and all the other men in the room.

“Touch my woman and you’ll need more than fifty stitches,” Mick said in a low growl, getting to his feet, pulling her up with him.

Woodruff gave him an assessing glare. “I suppose it was too much to hope you really were the Teddie Killer. Looks like you’re off the hook for this one, McGraw. But that doesn’t mean I have to like you or what you’re doing to Caroline.”

“But I do,” she whispered, wrapped her arms around Mick’s neck again, inundated with an overwhelming love for the only man on earth who truly understood her, and relief that he would be okay. That they had made it through this ordeal.

She reached up and kissed him, so thoroughly the men got real quiet around them. And suddenly she realized she didn’t mind being nude in front of them. She
enjoyed
it. She loved the power it gave her over them, loved the way they looked at her, the fantasies she invoked in their minds.

But most of all, she loved the lust her naked devotion aroused in Mick.

It’s all about fulfilling the fantasy
, she had told herself over and over throughout the past week.

But what happened when the fantasy became real?

Not just in the sense of sexual role-playing, but truly real? What, then, happened to reality?

“Come on,” she said to him, giving him a last kiss, running her hands over the planes of his broad, muscular chest.
Reality looked pretty damn good, that’s what
. “Let’s go to the hospital and get those stitches over with.”