Page 36 of His Toy

Zaid sipped his drink, then rested an elbow on the bar. “I used to guard people who actually needed it.”

“Like who?”

“Victims of abuse. Children. Mothers. But one thing led to another, and a business opportunity presented itself.” He paused, tilting the highball glass in his hand. “With a company like mine, you rely on word of mouth. At first, clients like Davis were the ones who were supposed to allow me to hire and train more men. So that I could spend my time protecting those who needed it.”

That made sense. “Do you help people like that often?”

He shook his head. But then his eyes glazed over something intriguing, and his interest made me look. I almost spit out my wine.

A small round table nearby had a man with two women below him, kneeling on the floor. The man tilted his head back, his mouth open. His pants were unzipped, his cock in one of the women’s mouths. They took turns. It’s not like I’ve never given a blow job. And it’s not like I hadn’t seen the act in person at Club Hades. But we were in a famous casino, inside of a private, upper-class lounge. I didn’t expect to see it here, out in the open.

But I looked around. He wasn’t the only one. In fact, more than half of the men were being sucked off by women. A hand grasped in hair. Pushing a head down further. Moans and grunts of pleasure. A cock gagging a throat.

The mild amusement had already faded from Zaid’s expression.

“Why are they doing that?” I whispered.

“They were ordered to,” Zaid said. My stomach clenched, hanging on to the word,ordered. I wanted him to order me. Maybe not here, but hell, if he said it, I knew I would do it. To make his head fall back in a moan, to hear him yield to pleasure, to have that kind of power over him, when he had so much control of me?

All it would take was a command. An order.

I almost thought about asking him if he wanted me to, but the servers entered carrying dome-covered plates. We went to two small chairs in the corner, next to a small table, away from most of the people. Zaid turned the chair so it faced outward. He could see everything. I stared at him.

Should I kneel, like the other women? Should I suck his cock too?

I wanted to—I know I did—but I dug my nails into my palm, trying to figure out what to do.

Another woman, the one from the banquet room, was sitting on Davis’s lap. One of the few who wasn’t on her knees.

“Inspect,” Zaid said.

A warm surge rushed through my body, and I immediately got into position. The dress bunched on my thighs, nearly exposing my panties. Zaid took a long, slow sip of his scotch. His eyes lingered on my legs, near my center.

It may have been dark, but I swore I could see his bulge hardening, yearning for me.

“You may rest,” he said.

I relaxed, but I didn’t want to stop there. There was an empty seat next to him. I could take it, and it wouldn’t be any different than taking a seat at a restaurant. Once the server left the two plates on the table and we were alone, I decided to ask. It was worth a shot.

“Can I sit on your lap?”

Zaid tilted his head, then nodded. I took a seat on his legs, nervously leaning my weight back and forth. Another server brought us glasses of champagne, and this time, we indulged.

“This is nice,” I said. “Thank you for taking me.”

“You think sitting through my work is nice?”

“I’m drinking champagne that probably costs more than everything I own,” I said. “And I’m with you. Where else would I want to be?”

I know that sounded off, but it was what came to my head. I liked being with him. Even with his strange moods, his closed-off personality, as stupid as it may have been, I felt like I could trust him. I liked seeing him outside of the dungeon. Seeing him work. Even if his job was brutal.

“I’d rather be in the desert with you,” he said.

I flushed. That surprised me. I liked knowing that heknewhe had complete control over me, exactly what to do to make my thighs clench together. He pulled me in closer.

“Us, alone, surrounded by red rock.” His lips rested against my ear. “Sweat and dirt covering your body. Tying you up so I could take advantage of you.” He bit my lobe gently, the pricks of his teeth egging me on. “The things I would do to you, Heather Maben, given the chance.”

So I was more. More than as a pawn in his design. More than as a pretend gift for his enemy. More than someone helping him get what he wanted.

A boldness took over me. I faced him.

“This is your chance,” I said.

He stared at me, his brown eyes piercing my soul. I hoped with everything in the world that he knew what I meant. I wanted him. I know he wanted me. I had this urge to hold his face, to run my thumb along the bottom of his scar, to trace my finger on his lips. To feel his lips against mine. To surrender everything to him.

He grit his teeth, a predatory gaze in his eyes. He was focused on me. All of me.

“I’m taking it,” he said. “I’m taking you.”