The Game (5 page)

The teleporter flinched. “Miss.” He stepped back, obviously eager to place as much distance between him and the angry woman as the leash would allow. “I’ll show you to your compartment.” He waited for her to take a step and never exerted pressure on the leash to lead her.

“A wise choice.” Seth chuckled under his breath.

As Chastity pivoted to follow, Seth could’ve sworn he heard her breathe, “Bastard.”

Punishment was in order—or he could pretend he didn’t hear her. The latter was the course he took. All he wanted was a drink and a moment to gather his thoughts. But Tor and his assistants marched toward him with determination, robbing him of the opportunity.

“Master Seth.” The leader bowed. “Your training begins now.”

Around a table in the dining room of the transport, Seth listened to Tor explain his role as a Dominant and what should be expect of Chastity as a submissive. While Tor openly enjoyed his dinner, Seth thought of Chastity and her desperate plea to make a trans-planet call.

Was she in love with Josh? Why had his cousin waited until the wedding ceremony began before whisking her away? And why had Chastity even showed up at the church? For two years he’d asked himself these questions, almost daily. The painful memory flashed across his eyes.

He stood with the woman of his heart before the priest, pledging his love, a vow of eternity,
when a commotion from the back of the chapel halted the ceremony. Agitated, Josh struggled
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Mackenzie McKade

against the attendant firmly ushering him back toward the open door. His voice rose, desperation
in his tone, “Chastity!”

Seth’s fists clenched. His heart pounded. How many times had he replayed the events in his mind? Both he and Chastity had turned around. He remembered Josh’s pleas to speak with Chastity alone, and how she went to him.
From the altar, Seth had watched his cousin’s animated movements and heard Chastity
gasp. She’d spun on her heel, stood for a moment staring at Seth as tears streamed down her face.
Then without a word she fled from the church, Josh hot on her heels.
Neither had offered an explanation that day, nor the ones that followed. Why would Josh allow a woman like Chastity to participate in a game show that would expose her to other men’s fantasies? If she were Seth’s he would keep her naked and tucked away securely in his bed.

And what drove Chastity to continue with the game when it was obviously causing her mental anguish? There were too many unanswered questions making him uncomfortable with the entire situation.

“…a safe word,” Tor finished saying.

Distracted, Seth tried to focus. “A safe word?”

A disapproving glance was shared between Tor’s assistants.

“It’s a ‘key word’ or a ‘stop word’ that you and your slave agree upon. Using a safe word allows the submissive to scream, beg for mercy, or threaten revenge, all in the spirit of the game. When she is truly frightened or the pain too intense, she has a way out. A good Dom also remembers that during intense sessions a submissive can forget the agreed upon safe word.”

Is this what he wanted? Confusion and uncertainty were both messing with his mind. What had Monty got him into? He hadn’t expected anything like this. He shifted nervously in his chair, as the second course of baked
Henna-henna
bird with glazed red potatoes and asparagus dipped in red wine was set in front of him. Seth picked up his fork and stabbed at the poultry, suddenly losing his appetite.

“Your slave has the ability to tune out, or as we call it ‘endorphin-out’, does she not?”

The man was amazingly observant—too observant. “Yes, she can.”

Tor’s scrutiny was unsettling, as if he could peer into Seth’s mind, read his thoughts. There were things in his head even Seth didn’t want to know, much less a stranger. Mixed emotions battled against one another. Self-doubt hung in dark corners, awaiting the right time to spring out and overtake him. The contest between he and Chastity was the first game in his life where he wondered whether he would emerge the victor.

“Her technique is smooth, she’s quite skilled. Yet if she goes too deeply within herself, to what is known as ‘subspace’, she won’t be able to object or to express her limits. You could hurt her, inadvertently.”

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The Game

Appalled at where this talk was leading, Seth pushed back his plate and stated emphatically, “I would never hurt her.” Not physically. But emotionally? Wasn’t that what this was all about? This was revenge, and if she didn’t hurt, if she didn’t feel loss, then all was for nothing.

Tor studied him a little longer then he laughed. “It’s a thin and dangerous line you walk. Love. Hate.”

“I don’t love her,” Seth responded a little too quickly. The knowing look in Tor’s eyes said he wasn’t buying it. “Ecstasy Island doesn’t condone cruelty or abuse. Whatever you do together must be consensual. If you are asked to stop, you must.” He laughed again, only this time it was laced with skepticism.

“But after talking to Monty, if Miss Ambrose were a man, I’d say you had her by the balls. The woman nearly signed away all her rights. An act of a desperate person…or a stupid one.”

Stupid? No, that was one word that didn’t describe Chastity Ambrose. Desperate?

Before he could ponder further, Tor said, “As a submissive begins to reach her limits she will become intense. You need to be aware of her body, her breathing.”

There was no problem with being aware of her body. Long, long legs, rounded hips, a small waist and succulent breasts, what more could a man ask for?

“Well, from Chastity’s reaction at the station, she’s already reached a nine out of ten on the tension scale.” Seth picked up his glass and downed his beer. The antiquated drink was still a favorite even in the twenty-second century. The foamy, bitter ale endearingly called a “brewskie” quenched a thirst like no other drink could.

“…signs to look for—her breathing will become tighter, more labored, her muscles will grow rigid. Stop immediately. Remember that it may take time for her to ‘swim back up’ or return from where she’s gone. Even more time if she has fine-tuned the art of escape.”

A slit in the table opened and another beer appeared in front of Seth. He picked it up, smelling the mixture of malted barley, yeast and hops. “This doesn’t sound safe.”

“It can be either very dangerous or as innocent as playful experimentation. I want to invite you to attend some of the bondage demonstrations at the club. There’s even a Master-slave dinner and a slave auction. Do you think your slave would be agreeable to be auctioned?” Tor’s eyes shifted nervously. A finger began to trace the rim of his glass. He seemed restless, uneasy.

“Oh, Chastity would be agreeable. Anything to get away from me.” The question was more if Seth could allow it. Could he watch another man take his woman? Sour acid gurgled in his stomach. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“And you?” Tor was testing Seth, for what he didn’t know. But it was a test. He was sure of it.

“She’s just another piece of ass,” he responded nonchalantly. But inwardly he thought,
over my dead body
.

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Mackenzie McKade

Tor tilted his head to the side, a knowing look in his eyes. “That much between the two of you?”

As skilled as Seth was at masking his emotions, something had slipped to betray him. So he gave the only answer he could. “Yes.”

“No chance that your need for retribution, while in the throes of inflamed hormones, would cause you to hurt her? Trust and safety is essential. BDSM is not about genuine anger.” Tor looked at Seth as if he was once again attempting to read his mind. “I’d hate to have you misuse this experience, when it can be gratifying for both of you.” He cleared his throat. Indecision was on his brow, as if he’d left something unsaid. Hesitating, he added, “You know, playing with humiliation is like lighting the fuse to an emotional bomb. Some things you say and do can’t be taken back.”

Seth thought about that one. His answer was, physically, no. He never wanted to hurt Chastity. But mentally…emotionally?

Damn it
! He wanted her to suffer as he had these past two years. 28

The Game

Chapter Three

It had been a wretched evening. Locked in her compartment, Chastity’s mind reeled with thoughts of what the week ahead would hold. She had arrived at Voyeur II knowing that she could face something distasteful or uncomfortable. Never had she anticipate it would test the very limits of her being.

Still, if retribution was what Seth wanted, she would accommodate him. Well, as much as her pride would allow. Since the moment she’d laid eyes on him today her emotions felt bound to a skycoaster. Up, down…fight, surrender…it wasn’t in her character to just roll over and play dead. If anything, her mother’s situation had taught her patience.

Mom!
Hope rose as she scanned the chamber looking for a trans-communicator. Every compartment had one. Then, as quickly as her anticipation had risen, it plummeted. The room that had once been well-appointed elegance was now stripped. Two chairs and an end table positioned in front of a fireplace, a beautiful chaise lounge that she stopped briefly to admire, and a cinema-max. She frowned at the walled entertainment center thinking back on this evening’s fiasco. The knowledge that the show would be transmitted across the universe later tonight made her ill. She shivered at the thought before continuing her search. Every nook and cranny had been rid of possessions, all comforts removed except for the chaise lounge. Downcast, she tugged at the collar around her neck and the leash swayed, rubbing against an exposed nipple. Then she drifted toward the chaise covered in manmade snow leopard fur.
Ooooh,
soft
. Her fingers caressed the thick, plush hair, pale gray dotted with brown spots, like snow littered with golden chestnuts. With each stroke the settee purred—low, soothing. Her fingers stilled. The sound disappeared. Her hand moved again across the surface and the drone started anew. Pleased, she slid the full length of her body against the pelt as she lay down. She had to get one of these things. It wouldn’t need to be fed or watered or cleaned up after. Two for the price of one. She’d have a new piece of furniture
and
a cat. Not to mention it felt wonderful on naked skin. Her ass never had it so good. She almost felt like purring, too.

Then she heard the door slide open and her gaze cut toward it. Seth walked in and she thought vomiting would be more apropos. The subtle motion of the transporter was always rough on her stomach, but being in a room alone with Seth Allen was enough for a girl to lose her cookies.

Okay, what was she supposed to do now? Stand? Drop to her knees and praise the almighty Master? Were there appropriate words of greeting? She began to rise. 29

Mackenzie McKade

An outstretched palm stopped her. “No, stay where you are.” He took the last couple of steps to close the distance between them. “Tor said that the nipple clamps need to be removed.” He stood over her, his eyes riveted on her breasts. She wondered what the tensing in his jaw meant. Was he nervous or anxious about the Master and slave role?

Glancing down at her breasts, she reached for one of the clamps.

“No, let me do it. Lay flat. Relax.” He sat down on the edge of the lounge. She scooted over to make room as she apprehensively stretched out. Eyes still on her breasts, his tongue made a slow path across his bottom lip. A gasp stuck in her throat. She thought about his touch, his mouth hot and wet on her nipple. The last time he had played with—no,
worshipped
—her breasts was at Christmas, just before their doomed wedding.

Seth was a breast man. And he had always loved hers. He had spent hours caressing, kissing, sucking, and biting her taut nipples, then fulfilling her wildest expectations with his tongue, fingers and cock.

Her pussy hummed with need, the subtle vibration setting the chaise to purr. Would the lounge roar if they got down and dirty atop it? The vision of slick, naked bodies sliding against each other, gliding through the fur, was more than she could take.

He cleared his throat and the image evaporated. “Tor said that removing the clamps would be painful.”

Seth’s earlier anger had seemed to vanish. He almost appeared…uncertain.

“He recommended that I distract you while removing them.”

Distract her? What the hell did that mean? She found out when his hand slipped between her legs and a finger delved into her heat. She squeaked her surprise as he slowly began to finger-fuck her.

No
! she inwardly screamed, scrambling on her elbows and heels to move away. She wasn’t strong enough to withstand his assault.

With his free hand on her shoulder he immobilized her. “Don’t move.” It was a firm command.

The
Master
had returned.

So it begins
, she inwardly acknowledged, allowing her facial features, narrowed eyes and a disapproving scowl, to express her displeasure. And what did her traitorous body do but let loose a downpour, a veritable flood of welcome. Talk about conflicting messages.

The hard angles of Seth’s face softened. A mischievous grin spread across his face, one that she was all too familiar with. One that said
I know you’re mine for the taking
. Haunting dark eyes came to life and glowed, victory in sight. His pleasure evident at the skillful way he made her pussy weep as his finger slid easily across her slick, wet folds.

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The Game

Her thighs trembled, threatening to part, but she wouldn’t make it easy for him and clenched them tightly.

“Spread your legs, Chastity.” His tone was a deep, throaty command. She refused. A defiant act that she had to reach deep into her soul to find. But when he touched her clit, stroked, her damn legs popped open like a flower seeking the sun. A warm glow of humiliation spread across her cheeks. He plunged deeper, withdrew and traced her vulva and then groaned, “You always had the wettest pussy.”

Oh yeah, talk dirty and I’m a goner. Or better yet, say that with your tongue buried deep
inside me. Let me hear your words vibrate through my aching pussy
. His beautiful blue eyes looked at her, the heat of desire burning in them. She wanted him to make love to her. Thrust his cock inside her until all the loneliness was gone and she could once again feel safe in his arms.