Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (114 page)

“I love you, Queen,” he s
ays with a smile in his voice.

“Go get your prince… Forget about him,” I look over my shoulder in the direction of the living room. “He did it all; none of it is your fault. I want you to go have some fun taunting your guy. Maybe get him to accidently touch you. The look on his face is my favorite when it’s on accident,” I chuc
kle.

“I know it’s not my fault, but do you?” He raises a blond brow in challen
ge. I shake my head in defeat.

“I do now. I really
do… now,” I reluctantly admit.

“Good,” he seals with a kiss.

“Tick Tock… Tick Tock… The time is ticking down,” he says with child-like excitement and Marc barks out a laugh.
 

Chapter Forty-Six

I snap my mouth shut before she can notice. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she affects me…. and affects me she does.

Master Olivia Fontaine is standing before me at the front of Dexter’s room. The traitorous, treacherous bitch is here under the guise of delivering book two of the Masters of Restraint exposé that is published under my sister’s name- total motherfucking bullshit. The lady before me created that piece of shit. Yeah, Diane and Daniel helped, but I got them to admit it was Olivia’s baby.

I want to scream as she takes over my Restraint- MY Restraint. The club is mine, the dungeon is mine. She stands before my people and half of them gaze at her with awed respect. My husband and son are here. Marc’s family is here, even Ava. I want to pull the child from the room. She isn’t impressionable, but I don’t want her to be in awe of Olivia. She has enough evil inside her thanks to Diane. I don’t want the black widow to foster more hideous behavior.

Black widow is the perfect description. Olivia is the Vampy Kitten that Ava named her in our publication, Generation Next. She’s petite with dangerous curve that would arouse a dead man as she sucks the last vestiges of blood from his veins. Her alabaster skin is flawless and shows no sign of her real age. Inky, black hair falls to her waist in a perfect flow of silk. Her cat-like green eyes scrutinize everything around her… just like a predatory animal. Her annoyingly seductive French accent is a caress from blood-red supple lips. It’s so dang sensual that I want to rip my clothes off to cool down.

I hate her.

I motherfucking hate her.

I hate her because she made us close Restraint in her demented game of Master of the Universe. I hate what she’s doing to Dalton as I watch her cunningness reel him in and twist.

I hate that’s she’s touched Marc, willing or unwilling, I could give a shit less. Her red-tipped talons touched him! She created another human being via his essence. I hate her… yeah… that is exactly why I hate her. Every ounce of his sperm is mine, just as he declared my womb as his. This bitch stole something from him. It’s too late to give it back… but I can steal the product, and give it to Marcus as a gift. I plan on it as I deviously smirk and stare at the bitch with hatred.
Queen is a territorial bitch. The second I laid eyes on Olivia her number was up. It’s a miracle I haven’t slit the bitch’s throat as I sit here and listen to her drone on.

The only thing that seeps into my musings is Dalton’s head on his desk. His dull eyes are open as they stare at nothing. Her presence is having a profound effect on him and I ache to help.

The terrified expression on Dalton’s face when a young man stood up and embraced him will never leave my mind. The desolate sob he released will forever haunt my ears. The dead look in his eyes as he relives some horror from his past is imprinted in my brain.

I reach over and rub his back, but he’s so deep under that he doesn’t feel the touch. I rub his back for my own comfort. I want to snap my finger in front of his face and scream
Hey!
I’ll let him relive a hell of his own making. It’s probably better than staring at his own personal demon that is standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Marcus and Dexter.

THUMP!

The sound of the tome-sized volume hitting the floor draws Dalton out of his reverie. The look in his eyes is frantic and filled with shame. He doesn’t acknowledge my touch of comfort, but he rests firmly against my hand for support. He instinctually knows that I’m here for him, no matter what.

I lock eyes with Marcus and block out the seductive, siren song that sounds even more incredible as she speaks French because she’s so flustered. Dalton doesn’t let on that he understands because it would blow his cover. I’m going to blow his damn cover tonight. Whitt and Marc will skin me alive, but they love me so they can suck it up. I have my reasons for what I’m about to do, and the main reason’s name is Olivia, and in a close second, Whitt.

I’m so lost in thought of what is to come that I don’t notice the room is emptying around me. Whitt unsurely looks at Dalton. Last night was interesting for the reluctant lovers. Whitt forced Dalton to admit his attraction while we all watched on. His howl of release has haunted me ever since, and I want Whitt to make him feel better. Whitt’s dragging his feet in fear that Dalton will push him away if he pushes too hard. I’m sick of waiting. I’m taking control. This shit ends tonight.

I feel bad because my husband is about to witness something he’s never seen. I’ve seen him thousands of times in the past four years have sex with Kristal, get countless blowjobs, and finally hook up with Kris and Dalton. He’s seen me kiss Marcus, but only recently. Before that everything was behind closed doors, and usually just with him. I went four years with only mild sexual contact and barely any sex. He doesn’t even know that I’ve had irrational sex with Ezra on multipl
e occasions.

One time only was my initiation… He thinks I’m the Madonna. I want to weep for what this is going to do to him. His wife is about to fuck his lover before he even gets a real taste…
Sigh
… Well, he’s had four years. It’s time to be a very bad, naughty Queen…

Her cat-eyes scrutinize me from the top of my head to the tips of my boots. Her ridiculously red lips part in a smirk. She finds me lacking. I roll my eyes at her and her smirk widens.
Bitch!

“So… you’re his…” She taps a sharp, blood-red fingernail on her bottom lip. The fingernail polish is the same shade as her lips- lips that are an unnatural color without any cosmetic help. She scrunches her black eyebrows as she considers what unkind word she wants to call me.

“Whore…” she drawls in her seductive accent, and it makes the word that much more salacious.

“No more than he is mine,” I taunt her back. “You were married until your father murdered your husband, doesn’t that make you his whore, too?” I ask innocently and smile sweetly.

Her calculating stare narrows. She thought me a brain-dead chippy. All cordiality vanishes as her spring-green eyes turn as hard as emeralds, and that pouty, succulent mouth draws tight in a long line.

“You’ll neve
r have what we had,” she vows.

“Good God, I hope you’re right,” I haughtily laugh. “I don’t have to trap my men in a web and inject them with paralytic poison so they won’t fight me while I fuck them. They beg me and agreeably lay there.”

My death screams from the depths of her eyes.

“You’ll regret
saying that,” she promises.

“Doubt that,” I snort. “It gave me great pleasure to piss you off. Did you honestly believe I was a dipshit? Ask your BFF, Diane, she’s learned to leave me alo
ne so we could live in peace.”

“Her affections for the blonde waif blind her to our true purpose. The only reason you’ve been safe is because of that retardation.” She speaks of Diane’s love as if it’s a disease.

“Hmmm… you’re the jealous kind of best friend- the kind that won’t let you play with others. I’ll bet you’d kill Ade if you could,” as I say the words a light bulb blazes to life. She smirks in confirmation.

“Sonofabitch!
They had to hide her away from you,” I hiss. “Why do they put up with you?” I shake my head in wonder.

“Because I’m so gorgeous,” she purrs and flutters her impossibly long eyelashes. Sh
e laughs at my sour-puss face.

“I’ve known Diane since kindergarten. I know you comprehend the bond of growing up with someone,” she says pointedly, and I want to go find Roman and save him from her. “Plus, she likes to look at me. Sometimes I give her a taste, and after that one taste, I can d
o anything I want,” she sings.

“You two are a match made in hell. Freaking sociopaths,” I hiss under my breath.
“Thank you,” she says proudly.

“It wasn’t a compliment,”
I grumble.

“Regina,” she says in a sing-song tone. “I know you’d love to know what it feels like to be truly numb all the time, and the high you feel when an emotion floods your veins- and it’s never pain.”
Her eyes roll up inside her head and she makes an obscene moan that is accentuated by her French accent. “Fantastic,” she moans.

“Good night, E
lvira,” I chirp and walk away.

Her fingernails bite into my upper-arm and
I growl, “You’ll regret that.”

“Olivia,” she reminds me. “And not as much as you’ll regret all the plans I have
in store for you,” she purrs.

“Why?” I ask of all the variables of the Master of th
e Universe game we’re playing.

“Why?” She tips her head in a hawk-like move and sights her cat-eyes on my face. “Because I can… I have no reason to do anything except that I can, and it makes me feel alive.”

“I’m glad I feel constantly, at least I know that I’m alive. The only indicator you have is a heartbeat, and I’m not sure what makes your black heart thump.”

“Watch your back, Regina. I don’t like things that get in my way. The last woman who got between Diane and me met a tra
gic fate.” She smiles sweetly.

“Who?”
I demand, but she strides from the room.

I ruminate over what she just said. Diane is a person she thinks is hers- someone she tries to control. Diane controls Daniel. The lu
natics are running the asylum.

Diane has only ever loved one person. She holds affection for Ade, but not the soul-deep level she felt for Cortez’s mother. Celeste is the one that got in between Olivia and Diane. I wonder if Diane knows this, and if she does, why
does she accept it.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Fresh from the shower with an amused, yet satisfied, smirk plastered to my face, I nakedly lounge on my sofa in my private room at Restraint. Two wild, feral animals tower over me, seething and frothing at the mouth. Neither has spoken an intelligible word- it ends up sounding like a combination of grunts and growls as they mash their jaws together. They’re so furious that I’ve left them speechless. I thought I’d get betrayal, maybe a tear or two, not speechlessness.
I giggle at how high I am. I feel so fucking great that I lay on the sofa in a salacious manner, and giggle again when their violent eyes flash with heat from the sight. I roll around from the pleasure of my skin on the velvet cushions, silent moans flow from my parted lips.

“Jesus, she’s like a cat in heat,” Whitt whimpers.

“Get dressed,” Marc bites out, but his eyes never leave my breasts.

“Nah… I don’t wanna,” I purr and cover one breast with my palm. My other hand slides down to co
ver the junction of my thighs.

Marc’s nostrils flare, and his eyes bulge, but not nearly as much as his pants. Poor Whitt groans and closes his eyes. My men-
I’ve never felt so empowered.

“Regina,” he says in frustration. “How could you do this to him,” he points at Whitt, who’s beside h
imself with anger and arousal.

“What?” I say innocently. “I’ve had to watch you both have sex,” I pout and turn my attention to Marcus. “You didn’t even have to watch.”

“I don’t know if I want to kill you or fuck you,” Marcus growls.

“Fuck her first- we’ll take turns, and then I’ll help you bury the body,” Whitt grits out between his clenched teeth.

I huskily laugh, and their heads whip around until their eyes meet mine. “I’m so hot right now,” I moan. “You have no idea,” I groan.

“I’m getting the idea,” Marc grumbles and Whitt sighs, “Already with ya…”

“Why did you do this?” Marc bites out again. His amber eyes glow in rage, and his lips are clenched in a thin line to stop whatever curse that’s building from leaving his mouth.

“I had many reasons,” I mumble. “Whitt, what did you do after I left the dungeon?” I wink at him knowingly, and he
smirks at my obvious behavior.

“I’ve… I’ve never seen you wink before,” Marc says gobsmacked, and it causes me to smile seductively at him. I yank him down to the cushion beside me and climb all over him. I rub his body with mine in a wave-like motion.
“Oh… fuck…. What the hell, Regina,” he gasps out in shock but doesn’t push me away. In fact his fingers clench my hips.