Page 35

I return my gaze to the woman and see she’s fully immersed in the long whip in Mason’s hand. She whimpers when he lifts his free hand to her face and brushes back her jet-black hair. His knuckles caress her cheek, her jaw, the side of her neck.

Her eyes remain downcast on the whip the whole time, but her scarlet lips part. “Please, Master. Again.”

“No, wait for it,” he replies, his voice a ruthless blade, but it also holds a promise of rich reward. The whip twitches in his hand and her breath shivers.

“Master, please… I want to come.” Her nipples turn to hard points as she whispers the words, and her whole body quivers as Mason traces a finger down to her belly button and circles the delicate hole.

“Is that disobedience I hear?” he asks softly, his voice bleeding power and menace.

She shakes her head immediately. “No, Master.”

“So you’ll come when I say and not before?”

Her body quivers. “Yes, Master.”

“Open your legs,” he instructs.

He flicks the whip and her eyes dart after the movement, anticipation almost eating her alive. When he brings it back to rest against his thigh, she lets out a broken moan.

Mason’s hand leaves her face and he presses a button on the apparatus his sex slave is leaning against.

My gaze drops to her stomach and thighs, and I see bright red welts crisscrossing her skin. My stomach roils, but the nausea I expect never surfaces. I should be sickened by the sight of such brutal treatment, by the sight of a woman who’s obviously being debased.

But instead, a hum rolls through my body as my eyes stay on the lazy curl of Mason’s wrist as he jerks the whip. The woman also shows no signs of distress. Just… pleasure.

He presses a button on the structure and the shiny surface comes alive. It vibrates against his slave’s back, then she sinks back as the material swallows her halfway. Her eyes widen in wonder, and she gasps at whatever sensation she’s experiencing.

Mason presses another button and arm-like protrusions rise from the sides and curve over her body. One moves over her breasts and torso and the other slides along her thigh. The arms flow with a beauty that’s hypnotic to watch.

“Oh!” Her face contorts in bliss and her breath pants out. Mason watches her for a moment before he raises the whip and brings it down between her legs.

She gasps out another moan, and her whole body shakes with the effort it takes to keep her orgasm from erupting. Her eyelashes flutter wildly and her mouth wobbles with the need to beg.

I can’t be here.

I need to leave, turn away from the visceral sight.

But my feet won’t move. I watch a tear slip from one eye and drip down her cheek as Mason flicks the whip again.

I want to scream at him to stop. To give her the release she needs. At the same time, acrid jealousy pours through my stomach at the pleasure she’s receiving under Mason’s hands.

12

KEELY

Mason whips her between the legs one more time, then growls, “Come. Now.”

His voice triggers her release and full-bodied shudders cannon through her. The artificial arms keep her from falling and Mason presses another button that makes her scream with pleasure. After a minute, the arms release her, and he catches her as she falls.

My galloping heart takes in the scene before I glance at the redhead. She’s watching me with narrowed, assessing eyes and her fingers are still out of sight below his waistband where she’s caressing Mason’s skin. As I stare, she shifts closer and rubs her C-cup breasts against his arm.

“Master, we have a visitor,” she murmurs in his ear.

“Dammit, didn’t I say I don’t want to be disturbed?” Mason’s voice is deep and rough and the woman who’s just orgasmed is a dead weight in his arm.

“Mason.” I attempt to say his name, but my voice is hoarse and indistinguishable.

He whirls around with the woman still in his arms, and his eyes meet mine over her bowed head. I see his expression for the first time and my heart slides into my throat.