Wicked Games (27 page)

She ignored me, her eyes blazing as she flogged him.

I watched helplessly, cringing at the steady swish and WHAP beating an evil rhythm until the fur on his wide back shone red and matted. I felt ill. Writhing, I fought Jack's hold, but he half crawled into the chair with me and bore his body down on mine to contain my struggles.

The horror I felt surprised me. Milord had enslaved me, chained and tormented me, sodomized and forced me, and yet watching Edrea beat him was agonizing. For looking into her set face, her fixed, cold eyes, I knew she meant to kill him, and the thought of his death left a great ache in me.

I knew I was a fool to feel that way. I should rejoice in his fate, in the prospect of freedom it brought me, but I felt no joy. Instead I remembered the pleasure he'd given me with his tongue, with his hands, the feel of his strong, hot body moving against mine, driving his shaft into my core with liquid strokes. And the look on his face at those times, the hunger that was more than sexual. As if he needed something from me even he didn't understand.

Even in his deepest rage, when I'd tried to escape him, he hadn't been able to bring himself to truly hurt me.

And now Edrea would certainly kill him.

Deep in my soul there rose a silent scream of protest as I saw his great body arch in agony under Edrea's vicious blows, before going limp.

The witch threw down her crop in disgust. “He's unconscious, the useless lout. Well, I'll get no pleasure out of him now. Jack, come here.”

Such cold fear stole over the footman's handsome face, I felt a spurt of pity for him, though he'd never been my ally. Reluctantly, he pulled himself off me and went to meet Edrea.

“Down on the floor!” she barked at him, and he obeyed, a quiver of terror rolling through him.

Edrea tossed up her skirts and mounted the footman like a horse, grabbing his limp shaft with one hand and aiming it toward her opening. I heard her mutter a spell and he hardened even as she drove herself down over him.

Ruthlessly, the witch began to ride the hapless footman, grinding her pelvis hard against his, her face contorted with lust and hate. Her eyes, black in the torchlight, were locked on milord's bloodied back.

Edrea's rhythmic gasps and grunts filled the dungeon as she drove hard on Jack, seeking her climax ruthlessly. She shut her eyes, grimacing, and I saw my chance. Quickly I rose and slipped toward milord, hanging limp in his chains.

“Beast,” I hissed. No response. “Master!”

He stirred, lifted his head at last. His great green eyes opened and fought to focus on me. “Brianne . . . Brianne . . . what're you . . . ?” His words were slurred, barely audible over Edrea's obscene grunts.

“Thank God!” I crossed myself and sidled closer. “I thought she'd killed you!”

“Give her . . . time.” His lips twitched, then he sucked in a breath of pain.

I stole a look at the witch. Jack was arching under her, his hands clamped over her small breasts. “How can I help you, milord?”

“Get you . . . gone. She'll kill . . . you.”

He was right. I knew that, knew I should slip away while she was distracted by Jack and the Beast. But it wasn't in me to leave him. “No. I can't let her kill you, milord. Isn't there something we can do?”

It seemed his eyes sharpened, focused for the first time since Edrea had begun to flog him. “You mean that. You'd help me?”

I lifted my chin. “Yes.”

He studied me, blinking hard, obviously fighting the dizziness of blood loss.

“There is a way,” said milord at last. “But it would be . . .” The Beast stopped to gasp in a painful breath. “. . . very dangerous.”

“Anything is better than waiting for Edrea to decide to turn her magic on me,” I told him stoutly.

He stared at me intently and I saw doubt and fear and hope do battle in his green eyes. Finally he nodded his great head and spoke, his voice low and harsh with pain. “Very well. In my library you will find a . . .” He stopped to gasp, battling pain. “. . . a small porcelain statue of kissing lovers. Turn it over and look at its base. You'll see a small raised square. Pry the square off. There's a vial inside the statue. That vial contains a potion that can strip a witch of her powers forever—if it is poured over an open cut in her skin. You must somehow inflict the wound and pour it on Edrea.”

I frowned. “That's no small problem.”

“No.” He looked at Edrea, still fucking Jack. I watched the hope drain from his eyes. “It's too great a risk. She'll kill you, and I would not see you die. Leave me.”

“And abandon you to be tortured to death? Nay.” Ignoring his frustrated growl, I turned to watch Edrea, hoping she'd still be engrossed in Jack. Indeed, she looked on the verge of coming. I knew I'd have no better chance and slunk toward the door.

“Lady Brianne!” It was the witch's voice, sharp and hard.

I stopped and bit back a curse. “Milady?”

“Where do you go?” She gazed at me suspiciously, frozen on top of Jack.

Could she read my mind? No, else I'd be dead. Still, I told part of the truth. “The library, milady. There are . . . belongings of mine there I wish to retrieve.”

Beneath her, Jack stared at me, then flicked a look at milord. His eyes widened in comprehension and I realized he knew about Beast's enchanted potion.

One of his hands moved up to Edrea's buttocks and pinched her viciously. “Ride, woman! I want to come!”

Instantly, the witch forgot me and snapped a glare down at Jack. He whitened. “You forget yourself, peasant,” she purred, and rose from him. “Evidently, you need a lesson in keeping your place.”

I slipped up the stairs while she chained him to the wall.

As I climbed, I heard Jack's first scream. Cringing, I began to run. I couldn't let his sacrifice go to waste.

•   •   •

T
he glass vial was exactly where milord had said it would be, and I was soon on my way back down the dungeon steps with it clutched in my hand.

I found Jack writhing in chains, a horrible, strangled sound bubbling between his lips. Edrea was lashing a riding crop across his loins, paying especial attention to the cock she must have been keeping erect by magic.

Licking my dry lips, I wondered how I was going to cut her. How deep did the wound have to be? Could I scratch her with my nails? Was there something at the table I could use?

Cautiously I edged toward it, fighting to ignore the footman's cries. The table was a massive affair built of sacred oak, and its surface was littered with various whips, clamps, gags, dildos, and other things I had no name for.

My attention was caught by a phallus in a leather harness that was apparently intended to hold it around the wearer's hips. The dildo was made of wood and leather, like others I'd had used on me, but unlike them, it was studded with short spikes. I imagined the lethal agony the device would inflict, and shuddered in horror.

“Well now—that's an idea,” the witch purred in my ear.

I jumped and stared at her wildly. She still held the crop in one hand. Behind her, Jack hung limp in his bonds, unconscious.

Edrea picked up the harness and its demon phallus. My flesh went icy as I wondered if she intended to use it on me.

“He fucked you up the arse, didn't he?” the witch asked suddenly. I blinked at her numbly as a roaring sound filled my ears.

She smiled a terrible smile. “How would you like to return the favor?” And she held up the spiked dildo.

“No!” I backed away, shaking my head.

“Oh, come now, Lady Brianne,” Edrea said, following me with the demonic phallus held by the harness. “Surely you haven't lost your taste for vengeance.”

“Milord may have tormented me, but he was never vicious. And he saw to it that I found pleasure in what he did.” I stopped, surprised to hear myself so defending him. But it was true. I had enjoyed it on some dark level. Even the pain. For a moment I felt a spurt of shame. Pushing the emotion away, I lifted my head. I had to save my Beast.

Edrea's lush mouth tightened and she made a sweeping gesture.

And the phallus was harnessed around my hips. I stared down at its lethal jut in horror. I reached for the straps, meaning to unbuckle them.

“You realize, don't you,” the witch said coldly, “that if I so wish it, you will fuck him like a rabbit. It would be much better for you if you do it of your own will.”

I stared at her, wondering sickly what horrible punishment she'd inflict on me if I didn't obey her. But ultimately, that made no difference. I couldn't participate in this horrific crime against milord. “No.” I had to fight to keep my voice level.

“I'd never have guessed you such a coward, Edrea,” said the Beast, his voice clear and cold.

She forgot me, whirling to stalk over to him with narrowed, snapping eyes. “You dare call me a coward? You, who were too afraid of Jovas to marry me?”

The Beast's lips moved in a sneering smile. “I didn't fear Jovas. I just didn't like the ugliness in you.”

Her eyes widened. Then she whirled toward me and threw her arms out, and I knew, with gut-knotting horror, that she was about to bewitch me into sodomizing milord with the dildo.

But Edrea miscalculated. One long hand flew out past the Beast's face as she gestured. Quick as a blink, he sank his fangs into her wrist.

The witch howled in agony, grabbing her forearm and staring down at the wound in shock. I flew toward her, seeing my chance. “Here, let me help!” She allowed me to take her forearm.

And I broke the vial over it, spilling the scarlet potion over it like blood.

“Bitch!”
Edrea screamed and threw me away. “I'll see you burn for that, you highborn trollop!” And she drew a complex sign in the air.

Nothing happened.

The Beast laughed. Suddenly the air was full of smoke and light, and I heard a high, hopeless scream that could only be Edrea's.

When the smoke cleared, a tall blond man stood beside my master. He was handsome and broad-chested, and there was such an aura of power about him that I longed to drop to one knee.

“Well met, Ardolf Greycastle!” the man said, grinning wolfishly at my master.

“And you, Jovas,” milord said, smiling back with all his teeth. “I gather you've come for your new property.”

The blond turned his lupine smile toward Edrea, who cringed from him in horror. “Indeed I have.” He moved toward her, stalking, and she backed away. “So, witch . . . I hear you've been very, very bad. You know what happens to naughty little girls, don't you?”

“Bastard!” screeched Edrea, which was exactly the wrong thing to say.

Jovas laughed and grabbed her hair in one big hand, then snatched her nose to nose with him. She screeched again as she rose on her toes. “Now, that's no way to talk to your master, little slave.”

“No!” She flailed at him. “I'll be no slave!”

“Oh, yes, you will. You've no powers to protect you now; your shield is gone. You're mine.” Those last words were delivered in a purr to rival milord's. Jovas's big hand tightened, forcing the witch to her knees. Then he looked up toward my master. “This is a grand day, Ardolf Greycastle. One I've hungered for. Would you care to savor it with me?”

The Beast's smile made my blood chill. “Oh, aye. I would, at that.” Jovas gestured, and for a moment I was blinded as light burst in the room.

When my sight cleared, Jack and milord were free, and thankfully, uninjured, their wounds healed.

That done, the sorcerer turned and dragged Edrea toward milord's great chair. He fell into it and dragged her across his lap.

Over the sound of tearing fabric as Jovas did away with Edrea's gown, I asked my master, “Who is he?”

“A very great wizard,” said milord, sounding darkly pleased. He moved up behind me and took my breasts in both hands. “He's had a yen for Edrea for years, but she would never yield to him. And he is hardly the sort to submit to a woman's whim. She managed to keep him from her with a magical shield, but when you doused her with the potion, the spell collapsed. Now she's at his mercy.”

And it was rapidly evident he had none. As we watched, the wizard began to pound her bottom with his broad, hard palm. She kicked and screamed, cheeks reddening under each hard smack, the firm, rounded flesh shuddering.

Jovas watched her naked rump quiver and bounce with lustful eyes, a wide grin on his face. Jack slinked over to watch, his eyes burning with cruel enjoyment of his tormentor's punishment.

My master squeezed my nipples and I gasped, feeling my own arousal grow. I began to understand why the Beast took such delight in spanking me as I watched her squirming kicks.

I wasn't the only one who appreciated the view. Milord's cock grew thick and hot against my back with every smack.

The air rang with Edrea's howls of protest, the sound competing with the loud slaps of Jovas's hand. Her naked breasts quivered against his legs.

Whatever punishment Jovas intended, I knew he'd be merciless with her. My own hot anticipation astonished me almost as much as the quiver of envy I felt.

My master rolled and squeezed my nipples, and I groaned, watching as Jovas pounded Edrea's bottom. I could see her sex, red, furred, and pouting, flashing as her long legs kicked.

Suddenly, Jovas stopped and jerked Edrea to her feet. I felt a twinge of disappointment that the display was over.

My disappointment vanished as Jovas pushed her to the stone floor and pounced on her, sucking and nibbling her nipples. She pounded at his shoulders, but he ignored her struggles, squeezing her breasts, reaching down between her legs with the other hand to find her sex. Edrea cursed and bit at him, and I saw him lift his head to murmur something. A spell, apparently; light flared, and when it faded, the witch was still, as if wrapped in invisible chains. Milord slipped a hand down and began to caress my dampening flesh.