Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (106 page)

“Eh- I guess he doesn’t think Niel’s ready for cocksuckage,” Cort jokes and I growl at him. “Mom doesn’t think so either.”

Marc reaches over and slaps him upside the head. “Master says no, too!” Cort’s voice vibrates from the hit.

“Don’t you care?” I stare at him willing him to see my issue.

“Um… Regina, by the time I was Niel’s age I was a man-whore. I was a lot younger than Ava when I started playing. I was twelve when I lost my virginity to Ezra. I understand why you’re upset, but I remember being that age, and I refuse to be unrealistic. They’ve been together for over two years, if they want to touch, I’m fine with it.”

“You shouldn’t make sense,” I hang my head in shame and refuse to agree with the asswipe, even though I secretly do.

“Are you alright?” Marcus asks in concern and it makes my heart bleed.

“Yeah… Let’s pretend you didn’t see that,” I mumble as I type on my cell. I turn the security feeds back to live and quickly text Jamie a message.
That rocked- hard-fucking-core, Mr. Atwater.

I roll my eyes up to Marcus as I type and half-smirk at him. I pop a brow when his breath catches in his throat.

“Exactly how long did you watch?” I absently ask as I receive a text back from Jamie.

My fist aches for our connections, Mistress.

Cort snickers and Marc answers, “I had a feeling something like this was going down. Bruises, Regina… really? I noticed a trend. We were down the block waiting for the feeds to go to loop. A furious Regina walks into a Brownstone and poof,” Marc makes an explosion gesture and scowls at me.

“So… you basically saw it all- everything?”
I blush and stare at my feet.

“Everyth
ing,” Marc admits. “How long?”

“Um…” I stall. “You don’t w
anna know, trust me.”

“Regina,” he commands in his ‘I’m the Master of the Universe, answer me now or suffer the consequences’ voice.

I think about… I really think about not answering. I’m begging for an ass-kicking. My lips split into a tempted smile. If Jamie does this to me, what would it feel like to have a throw-down with Marcus? I bet Ezra would let me practice with him first. I could work my way up to my Master’s fury.

I’m turning into a masochist. It just fucking hurts so good to have the pain beat out of you. I hurt inside, and the bruises are proof, and as they fade I feel better.

Marc’s hand lashes out and I flinch backwards and fall flat on my ass… on second thought… I’m not ready for Marcus. He’s too hardcore.

Cort covers his mouth so he can’t laugh.

Marc’s eyes burn like molten metal. His gaze pours liquid heat, and I envision the amber fire dripping onto my skin- melting me- altering me. 

I swallow, and I can’t rip my gaze from his.

“I… um… we started it to heal and it got a bit out of hand,” I stammer.

“When?”
His fingers clench into fists and my eyes widen. I know what those hands feel like as they stroke my skin in comfort. It’s all they’ve done for years. I miss the bruises they left behind when they fucked me senseless. I wonder what it would feel like if they hit me… Not the pussy slaps he gave me during my intervention either- the intervention that started this bloody mess in the first place.

Hit me- hit me hard
I silently plead.

I clamp my thighs and groan when his fists clench at his sides.

“Regina,” Marcus breathes and his nostrils flare. He shakes his head to clear it, and then asks, “When?”

“Ah… um… the day after my intervention,” I say in a tiny voice under my breath.
He’s gonna be sooooo pissed.

“What?” Of course his sonic hearing heard me. “That long,” he
says with a disappointed sigh.

“Have you hurt each other?”

“Define hurt each other,” I snort.

“Regina,” he growls, running out of patience.

“Nothing irreparable, just bruises, bumps, some missing hair,” I make light of our injuries and wounds. “Um… it’s not like I’m fighting Ezra. He’s the bone breaker,” I joke and Marc and Cort scowl.

“Why?” His voice is sad and it makes me feel like shit.

“You didn’t want me to hold my feelings in any longer. Well, Jamie has some inner-resentment that was bottled up too. Instead of fucking it out, we fought it out.”

“I…
I’m speechless,” Marc murmurs.

“That’s a first,” Cort says snarkily underneath his breath and steps away before he gets punished.

“I better go,” I grumble and walk towards the entryway.

“Regina, your head is bleeding,” Marc growls. “It’s Whitt’s night at Whittenhow
er. I’m coming home with you.”

“Fine,” I whine. “No talking.
Sleep!”

“Yeah, when have I heard that before? Oh, I know,” he says in an annoyingly perky
voice,

“Every fucking time!
Don’t forget that I could tie you down and do anything I want at any time. I could have Rocky go batshit on your gorgeous face. He’s just as frustrated as I am. We could just form a queue and get rid of our agitation. I’m only humoring you, Regina. One day I will take what’s mine,” he threatens in a tight voice.

I pretend it has no effect on me, but I’m shivering so bad my teeth are clacking. I’m not scared. I’m anticipating when he finally snaps. I want to fight back. I want him to earn me.

Marcus and Cort chuckle that annoyingly sexy masculine laugh that promises heaven- the laugh that only a confident man can make.  It’s the infectious laugh that turns my bones to liquid sex.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Queen,” Aaron says in exhaustion and gives me a hug. I hold the teddy bear of a man who just took down no less than ten men. I squeeze him because I don’t like the innocence lost or seeing hands that are so gentle bash in a skull. I heavily sigh and run a finger along his lacerated eyebrow.

“No more, Aaron. I’m done,” I vow. My voice cracks because Regina Regal Whittenhower never gives up. Restraint has been Aaron and my responsibility for over two years. I’ve been the female boss for three years. This was mine, and they came in here and wreaked havoc. Fury pours through m
e and I tremor from the force.

He clenches me tightly and his breath hitches, “Me too. Thank God I wouldn’t let any of our submissives in here.” He expels a shuddering
breath and tremors in my arms.

“My son was here for training tonight. What if it poured into the dungeon?” a s
ob builds and I choke in fear.

Aaron doesn’t say anything. We stand in the middle of the dance floor in each other’s embrace, completely silent and still. All around us EMTs tend to the wounded and push them out on stretchers. The riot police separated the instigators from their victims. I’m not tipping them this time. I need them to tell us to shut down. No more bribery.

Tonight was different- organized chaos. Every other riot has had a desperate quality. Tonight I watched as four men did that chin tilt that our security employs. I watched as they systematically created four separate riots around the club and it meshed into the hugest cluster-fuck I’ve ever seen. It was an epic bloodbath. I’m surprised no one died, a few came very close to the brink.

“What are we going to do?” Aaron
’s voice is deep with anguish.

“Marcus and I have to talk,” I
say ominously as I walk away.

I need to see my son. I need to know everyone who was training in Dexter’s room was safe. This stupid-assed training took a huge chunk of my help away. I needed Dexter, Syn, Whitt, and Roman; and Tobias has proven to be a great help at extricating the baddies.

The training was a ruse, just as eliminating all of my bartenders and security. We’re down to four- we lost Chris to the bullshit. He left because he couldn’t watch our fall any longer.

With half of our Masters busy with ‘training’ we were vulnerable. Devlin Conrick was sent here by Olivia Fontaine. I’d worry that Devlin plays for the other team, but he fought side by side with me tonight. His pale, water-colored eyes told me a truth I didn’t want to see. His Master is BFFs with Diane. When Marc said the other team was two sociopaths I thought he’d meant Diane and Daniel. The look of betrayal on Dev’s face confirmed my suspicions.

Cold fear freezes me into place as I enter the dungeon. Five men and a woman are bound on the floor, and Dexter is using his gift of persuasion. I recognize each and every one of them. One of them is Chaz the douchebag. I’ve tossed them out of the club several times over. They instigated the last riot. I guess they’re on someone’s payroll.

“Let me convince you to answer,” Dexter purrs and I shudder in fear. The deep timber of his voice reaches the depths of hell, promising immense amounts of pain.

A tortured scream pierces the air. I can’t tell what Dexter did to Chaz, but it broke the young man.

“Dexter,” I say in warning. I don’t want to spook him and have him
cause lasting harm.

“Reg,” he grunts and moves on to another male.

“I need details before you use that leather tool,” I wince at the blood dripping from the tip of the thick needle used to stich leather. “Where’s my son?”

“I delivered him to Albert, and made sure he was seat belted and tucked safely in the car. I even waited for them to drive away before I came back inside,” he says absently as his head tilts to the side- eying his prey like a predatory bird.

“What happened?” I sit cross-legged next to Dexter and pull the tool kit into my lap.

“The scum of the Earth tied one of our Masters to the rack and tortured him,” he murmurs never taking hi
s eyes off the man before him.

A blood-curdling scream takes me by surprise. I never saw him move. A pair of pliers is held up to the light. A crescent shaped, pale object is gripped between its teeth- a fingernail.

“Jesus,” I hiss under my breath. I laugh nervously. Dexter is using torture techniques. His art is his whip, but this is too much to fathom from the mild-mannered, miniscule IRS agent.

“Whitt?”
I hold my breath in fear- my heart is one word from fracturing.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, Regina, I wasn’t thinking. It was Dalton. Al…” He looks at me and smiles, “I mean Roman and Whitt took him to his room to fix him up.” Everyone knows that Roman is Roman for me. Everyone calls him Master Alex except for those who knew him for years.

“Shit!” I jump up to go to Dalton’s apartment.

“Stay and help me,” he says suggestively and tilts his head. His ringlets fall into his face, covering his amber eyes. It’s the strangest thing: seeing a man who looks like Marcus but is suggesting we torture six people together. I arch a brow and smile. I guess he’ll welcome me to the family if Marcus ever claims me.

“Hey, Chaz,” I seductively purr into the young man’s face and he flinches.

“How do you know my name?” He asks in a panic. He swallows and licks his lips. He’s all dried out from screaming in pain.

“How’s your kidneys. Did you piss blood for a few days? How’s the head,” I relentlessly taunt and he freezes under the deluge.

His eyes are huge. I want to ignore the fact that his eyes are so blue they look violet. Such a shame, he’s rather pretty to look at.

“What’s Dexter done to you so far?” A smirk flirts with my lips and the young man flinches.

“He...” audibly swallows and winces, “Used a big needle and shoved them behind my nails,” he gasps in pain. 

I look at the man’s hands- sure enough, Dexter had worked him over really well. Ten bleeding fingers lay lifelessly on the jean-clad thighs.

“Hmmm… did you see what he did to your friend here?” I point my chin at the guy who’s missing a fingernail. “As he goes down the line of your friends he will up the pu
nishments. Won’t you, Dexter?”

Dexter grins menacingly and I gasp in shock. “A demonstration was in order,” he purrs and I know he’s aroused. I can’t hear anything over the tortured scream that the fool keeps bleating out.

“Chaz, see what I mean? You have a needle shoved into your nail beds, your friend lost a nail, this dude just lost a fingertip, that chick will lose a finger, and the next will lose a hand,” I threaten, and Dexter groan interrupt what will happen to the last guy.

“Don’t orgasm, Jeez,” I roll my eyes and snicker.

“This is yours,” Dexter says politely and tucks the fingertip into the hysterical dude’s front pocket. If this doesn’t take a long time he can have it reattached- I think.

Dexter shuffles down the lineup and selects a new weapon to dissect his next victim- the petrified female that hasn’t made a peep. She stares straight ahead with a fu
rious expression on her face.