Deadly Captive (10 page)

"Please." That was all I could say.

Bruno moved his hand and pulled me to my feet. He sucked his fingers and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me. Turning me, still against him, he kissed down my throat and slid his hand over my ass. I curved back against him shamelessly as he dipped his fingers back inside me.

One arm against my chest, he held me up, buried his face in my hair, and used his other hand to undo his pants. Moving my hair with his chin, he bit down as he spread my thighs, then thrust deep into me. I cried out, the pleasure overwhelming, making me forget the others in the room. I could feel his pulse matching mine in his dick as he sucked and fucked me. The combined ecstasy, paired with the two fingers he placed on either side of my clit, rolling it around until it blazed to life, sent me tumbling, screaming, over the edge. I bucked back against him so I could feel him deeper.

His flesh slapped against mine as he quickened his thrust, the whole length of him slamming in, then pulling out. He stabbed his fangs in further, until I felt pain, but the pain only added to the pleasure. I came again, harder, and he grunted as he released as well. His hot cum burned inside me as he braced his hand against the table, his arm around my stomach, holding us both up. It was a while before I caught my breath.

When I finally did, it was to see Joe, staring at me, only feet away, Chrissie's hand clenched in his hair, holding his head up, forcing him to watch.

What had I done?

Bruno eased off me, helping me to sit with a consideration I knew now was utterly feigned. He kissed me on the forehead and winked at me. "I don't blame him for wanting to hang onto you, Lydia," he said softly, a wicked smile on his face when he read my expression, which told him I now knew exactly what was going on. "You are one sweet piece of ass."

Cyrus cleared his throat. Every eye turned his way. "If you two are quite done?"

He appeared satisfied with Bruno's nod. "Good. Then I think we should go now. Mary needs her rest." He turned back to her, cupping her face. "Thank you my sweet. You have no idea how much you helped me."

Mary smiled shyly. "I was my pleasure." She ducked her head. "I mean . . . ."

Cyrus pressed his fingers to her lips. "No, don't correct it. Hearing that makes me very happy."

When they were gone, everything was surreal. Everything was wrong. We'd been prepared for pain. They hadn't hurt us. Not one of us. Granted, they'd fed, but it had been turned into a trifling, even pleasurable experience. In truth, though, what they'd done had caused more damage than any torture could have. There was no
us
left.

Not as lovers, not as friends.

Joe spoke first. "Feel better, Lydia? Vindicated?"

"Joe, I . . . ." I fumbled for excuses. Naturally, I couldn't find any.

Joe held up his hand. "I don't want to hear it." He moved to the bed, lifting his hand toward Mary.

She stood, glaring at him, then set her glare on me. "I don't know what kind of sick game you guys are playing, but, next time, leave me out of it." She went to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Joe stared at the door, then walked over to the table and swept all the glasses from it in one fell swoop. They shattered against the wall. I cringed as he stepped up to me. "I hope you're happy. I really hope he was a good fuck."

Joe snatched a blanket from the bed, went to the other side of the room, spread it out, and lay down.

I watched him for a moment, then simply folded my arms on the table and rested my head on it. We left the bed for Mary. She didn't thank us. I wasn't surprised.

The masters had changed the game. We had no team left.

Mary slid her plate over to me and smiled shyly. "You can have the rest. I'm not that hungry."

I smiled back, grateful. There were always two plates. Joe had stopped leaving me part of his bigger helping. If it weren't for Mary, I would have starved. I doubt Joe would have cared. Thankfully, Mary was more forgiving.

I hadn't been sure she'd ever forgive either of us, but the silence was too unpleasant for her to hold a grudge, against me anyway. I wasn't sure how she brushed aside my part in everything, but it was clear, the first day after Cyrus came, that she'd decided to take my side. Joe coldly denying me food and refusing to so much as look at me probably helped her choose. Mary felt sorry for me.

I accepted her sympathy. Much as I hated pity, I couldn't bear more animosity.

Joe didn't help his case, the way he flirted with her. I knew he did it to hurt me. I caught the glances he shot my way every time he pulled Mary into conversation, poured her drinks, and offered her his leftovers before wolfing them down. Mary spared him only a dirty look before coming to sit with me in the spot I'd claimed at the other side of the room.

"I asked Cyrus for extra beds," Mary said, drawing her knees to her chest, a secretive smile on her face.

Her time away from the room seemed to keep her in good spirits. She'd never brought up Cyrus before, so I wasn't sure how to broach the subject. But now that she had . . .

"When did you see Cyrus?"

Mary hugged her knees tight and giggled. "Last night. We went to another room and watched a movie." She giggled again. "
Interview with a Vampire
. Can you believe it?"

She lowered her voice and leaned close to me. "Brad Pitt has nothing on Cyrus."

Lips pursed, I faced her. "Mary, you should be careful." I paused, trying to find a way to question her without alienating her. There didn't seem much hope for success. I prayed calm would help. "Did he feed from you?"

Mary nodded and blushed. "Yeah. I wouldn't stop bugging him until he did."

"Mary, Cyrus is dangerous. You should—" And, with that badly timed blurt of concern, I lost any chance of helping her.

Bristling, Mary gave me a narrow-eyed glare. "Lydia, don't. I don't need a lecture." Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "Look, forget I said anything." She gave me a haughty up-and-down look as she stood. "That new dress looks very nice on you, by the way."

I groaned when the bathroom door slammed. I hadn't thought twice about accepting the dress from Mary. Fed up with wearing rags, I hadn't asked where she'd gotten something in my size, and she hadn't said. Not that she needed to. Almost every night she returned with her arms full of gifts from Cyrus. Clothes, sweets, a beautiful quilt—each patch portraying a different songbird. She acted like a girl experiencing love for the first time. Because of her lack of exposure to his brutal side, she naturally believed we'd lied about how evil Cyrus was. Which made me one of the bad guys.

Joe used the opportunity to take another jab. "Real smooth, Lydia."

I scowled. "Shut up, Joe. What is it? Sore that she's more into the psycho than you?"

Laughing, Joe walked over to me, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me to my feet.

"No. As much as I hate that she trusts him, I've got to give her one thing." He slid his hand across my face, then combed his fingers softly into my hair. "At least she's consistent. She doesn't jump on the slightest chance to get off."

I'd been relaxing to his touch, realizing now how much I missed it. It took me a moment to catch his implication. When I did, I moved away from him, my back to him so he wouldn't see how my lip quivered. "Fuck you."

Needing something soothing to abuse my body with, I knelt beside the bed.

Joe sneered. "Not that desperate. Not yet."

In the midst of grabbing a bottle of Baileys, I stiffened. I rose, calmly set the bottle on the table, then walked up to Joe and punched him in the face. I watched with satisfaction as he stumbled into the wall. He might be stronger than me, but catching him off guard had its benefits.

Clenching and unclenching my fist, I waited until he had straightened before speaking. "You hate me now. I get it. Something happened that you can't get over. Fine.

I wish I could find a way to explain what happened, but, even if I did, I realize . . . ." I looked straight into his hard, cold eyes. "I don't need to justify my actions to you."

Joe nodded curtly. "You're right. And it's a good thing. Because I'd hate to have to sit through you scrambling for some lame-ass reason for acting like a whore." His lips curled. "I was a fool to think you were worth saving."

His words hit me like a kick in the gut. I took a step back. Something in my expression must have reached him because the hardness in his eyes faded. He reached out to me. I considered letting him hold me, but the inclination didn't last. In our situation, the last thing I needed was someone who didn't care enough to find out why I'd done something, didn't care enough to accept that I'd made a mistake. Being bitter was one thing. Now, he had disparaged everything we once had.

Joe knew he had gone too far. I could see the apology in his eyes, but he never got a chance to voice it. The door opened, and we both turned.

"Joe." Chrissie's smile was, as usual, sickeningly sweet.

"Chrissie," Joe said warily.

I moved to the bed when she went to him, wanting to put some distance between us. She closed the door, and I couldn't help feeling relieved. She'd come alone. Not that the absence of the others offered much reassurance. She was strong enough to take us both if she wanted to. I selfishly hoped she'd be satisfied with Joe.

She circled him, the heels of her six-inch stilettos making no sound as they hit the floor. It didn't seem natural. Her chest moved, but her breath was silent. Her hand stroked absently down her side, along the thick blue silk of her dress, and still there was nothing.

Joe wasn't as quiet. His hard breath, much louder than it should have been, left his mouth through his teeth. The swath of cloth he wore around his hips rustled as he shifted his weight. Chrissie had caught Joe after his daily exercise routine. Normally, he had jeans on. Several times, I'd been tempted to ask him what he'd had to do to get them. I hadn't gotten real clothes until Mary had acquired some from Cyrus. Joe didn't have many garments, but he had enough to make me wonder. Nothing came for free around here.

Chrissie's next words seemed a direct response to my thoughts. "Mary's gotten several agreeable reprieves from this room. I've entreated to Cyrus to get you the same."

She stopped in front of him. "He's considering it."

Joe's response was automatic. "Thank you."

Chrissie grinned. She pressed her hand to his bare chest, then grazed her long, red nails up to his throat. Her thumb passed over his jugular, and the muscles of his neck jumped in response. Joe closed his eyes.

"Are you grateful, Joe?" Chrissie pulled him down, still stroking his throat, and kissed his lips. "Would you like to take a break from this with me?"

At Joe's nod, I almost stood, wanting to step in for some ridiculous reason. Joe hated Chrissie, and, after all she'd done to him, I could well understand. What I couldn't understand was his passive acceptance of her touch now. Joe's value, thus far, had been his willfulness and the fun our captors had in finding new ways to bring him down. He knew this, and it was part of the reason he was often so obstinate when they were around.

What changed?

Chrissie ran her nails carefully down Joe's throat. "Get on your knees. I want you to make it a little easier for me. Would you do that?"

Without a word, Joe lowered to his knees. He tilted his head, and she dropped her mouth to the offered flesh. She bit down, and he groaned, hands on her hips, gripping into the silk. Every deep suck brought another moan, and soon I could see Joe was erect beneath the cloth that covered him. He was enjoying himself very much. I decided not to intrude.

Easing her fangs from his flesh, Chrissie licked the wound closed, then pulled Joe to his feet. "My turn." She glanced at me. "If we could use the bed, Lydia?'

I frowned, but didn't say a word as I stood and moved to the table to take a seat.

I turned so I wasn't facing them, but watched from the corner of my eyes. I was curious.

This was the first time I'd seen Joe submit without threats or violence. And I needed to know why.

Chrissie stretched out on the bed and spread her legs. Joe lifted her skirts and lowered his face between her thighs. I could hear the sound of him lapping at her, and the wet sound as his fingers joined in with his tongue. Chrissie writhed on the bed.

"That's it, Joe." She shifted her hips and arched back. "So close. Just a little harder." She drew in a sharp breath and closed her legs against his head.

When she'd stopped writhing and moaning, Chrissie sat up, waited for Joe to rise, and then kissed his lips, glossy with her wetness. "You did a good job. Now you may choose. How do you want me?"

For a split second, Joe seemed to return to himself. A look of horror crossed his face. When Chrissie massaged the side of his neck, he shuddered and answered. "I want you bent over the bed. But—"

Chrissie covered his mouth with her hand. "Hush. I can do that first. Take that nasty loincloth off and lie down. I want to show you something."

The cloth was thrown to the floor. Joe obediently rested on the bed. Chrissie moved on her knees until she was crouched between his knees. With one hand, she began jerking him off. With the other, she held her hair behind her so she could bite into his thigh.

Joe groaned, loud, and his stomach muscles clenched. The head of his dick was purple, and it looked like the ecstasy had reached the point of pain. Chrissie released him, lifted a little, and circled her tongue around his proud crest. Taking him in her mouth, she enveloped him to his balls.

Joe didn't let her do it again. Grabbing her by the hair, he pulled her up and off the bed, shoved her face first over it, and threw her skirts up. Half-crazed, he plunged his dick into her, his balls smacking her with every violent lunge. Already well into it, Chrissie didn't take long before she spasmed against him. Joe came seconds later.

Sated, Joe pulled out and dropped onto the bed. I kept my eyes on him and saw the moment he regained his hold on himself. When he did, he stared at her.

Chrissie saw him and gave a delighted little laugh. "What's wrong, Joe?" Her tone was syrupy. "You don't understand what happened? Would you like me to explain?" Straightening the skirts of her hopelessly wrinkled dress with one hand, Chrissie patted his cheek with the other, laughing again when he jerked away from her.