Tender Mercies (12 page)

“We can deny what we are, but it won’t go away. No matter what happens, your body responds to what it responds to. As does mine.”

He wasn’t wrong. If her fear turned him on, maybe, as wrong as it was, it turned her on a little as well, because her body was begging for his to come fill her. Her moisture was dripping out of her, and with the way they were cuddled and wrapped together, she knew in a few moments he would know as well.

Asher’s hand moved around the front of her, dipping between her legs. Without conscious thought, she opened for him, giving him the access to her body that he wanted.

“You and I are both going to come tonight. I’m going to be kind. You can decide whether it’s mouths, hands, toys, or my cock inside you that gets the job done.”

She bit her lip as his fingers continued to massage and rub the folds of her sex, avoiding her clit until he was ready to give her more. She tried to think. Even though her body wanted him, everything was scary right now. But hands, they’d been there already. At least for her.

“Hands,” she whispered. He was silent for a moment, and immediately she regretted the choice. Maybe he was disappointed in her and had expected some greater effort on her part. Something more imaginative. But surely he must understand, even being able to stand being touched by anyone was a huge feat, given that twenty-four hours ago she’d still been living the nightmare with Lucas.

“Fortune favors the brave, my dear. I suppose you’ll have to wait to learn what my tongue can do.”

She shivered at his words. He
was
disappointed. Well, what did he expect? Did he really expect her to be excited and eager after what she’d been through? She was grateful to him and wanted to please him, but too much of her was at war. She was afraid she’d never be able to fully give him what he wanted. And she really did want to give him everything. Between Lucas and her lingering fears about Asher and what kind of temper he might unleash on her, she just froze up.

He stopped touching between her legs when she went stiff. His hand instead went to stroking her belly. “Grace, listen to me. I know you’re scared. You don’t have to feel any particular thing about any of this. So stop fighting with yourself. All of this is out of your control. I am taking what’s mine, but you can keep your heart. For now. You don’t have to give me everything, just your body. When your body trusts me, your mind will follow. Now, open.”

When his hand had moved away from her pussy, she’d closed her legs back together, as if in doing so she could protect those parts of herself from further exploration. Now, on his command, she opened them again, her body even more excited than before, and her brain more confused and upset by that fact. But he wasn’t asking for her brain, just the part that had betrayed her in its willingness to comply.

She thought about all those times she’d wanted to separate and hover above while Lucas did the things he did, and now she wished she could do it for a different reason. She was scared of feeling too much pleasure with Asher, in coming to count on it and believe in it. She knew he was right. Once her body belonged fully to him, her soul, heart, mind . . . they would obediently follow behind like little soldiers. And what if it was a bad choice again? But she didn’t have a choice here. He’d spelled that out clearly. Whatever happened, it wouldn’t be her fault.

She hadn’t hopped on a plane to go to Asher’s home voluntarily. She’d been bought and brought here. Her choices were only to obey or be punished. It didn’t make her bad if she wanted pleasure instead of pain, right? Her body lurched when two fingers tunneled inside her. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts and rationalizations that he’d taken her by surprise. His other hand was busy memorizing her body, running the planes of her face, over her hair, her breasts, her belly, her thighs. The fingers inside her started to pump in and out with greater intensity.

“You’re so responsive. I like that.”

His voice was so musical, like the pied piper leading her over a cliff. There was a time when, if she could have pictured this scene and all the horror of the past few months, she would have imagined fighting back, not just giving in like this. What he was doing to her body, however, felt
so
good. After feeling so bad for so long, she greedily lapped up the pleasure that was on offer. Never had a tactical invasion of fingers felt so comforting and welcome, and never had a sexual advance created so much turmoil and confusion.

“This body knows who your master is,” he growled in her ear, which only made her wetter. He sat in front of her, the fingers of one hand still moving inside her while the palm of his other pressed against her clit, grinding against the swollen bit of flesh that was so hungry to be touched, harder, faster, forever.

“Be a good little slut and come for me now.”

That word.
Slut.
It should have killed her response, but rolling off his tongue, the word only excited her more. It wasn’t abuse. It was endearment. Though she was still afraid, he was taking control of her and taking away bits of uncertainty with each small demand. She fell back into the pattern she’d learned over eight months. Obedience without thought. Her body opened further to him, her cunt clenching around his fingers as she came.

She was panting, trying to come back to earth when his voice once again pierced the silence of the room. “Good girl. Now return the favor.”

Asher’s cock was the hardest she’d seen it. His hand moved possessively around the back of her neck, forcing her head up so her eyes met his. “You see, your fear isn’t the only thing that makes me hard. Touch me.”

Her tongue darted out to slide over her lower lip in an unconscious, nervous gesture. She reached tentatively to stroke the soft flesh, not at all sure about hands. Lucas had used her cunt, her mouth, and her ass, but he’d never had the patience for hand jobs. She wasn’t sure if she was bad at it, or if he just hadn’t liked them in general. But now she was paranoid it was the former.

She leaned forward, her hair falling across him as her mouth got closer to his cock.

“Now, kitten, let’s not change the rules of the game midstream. That’s very unfair. You said hands. I followed the rules. So will you.”

Her eyes shot up to his, afraid to see anger, but instead finding mirth. She let out the breath she’d been holding and wrapped her hand around him and started pumping.
Don’t be so stupid. You’ve given a hand job before.

Asher leaned against the pillows and let out a hiss. “Exactly like that. Harder.”

He seemed so close already that she didn’t bother teasing, afraid he’d find it more annoying than pleasurable right now. A few minutes later he released over her hand and his stomach. She stared at it for a moment, unsure.

“Well? What do kittens do with cream?”

Her eyes widened for a split second before she licked her hand clean. Then she turned her attention to his belly and lapped up the warm, salty liquid from his toned stomach. He stroked her hair while she ran her tongue over him.

When she’d finished, he flicked the lamp off and went back to petting her hair as he held her against his chest. “Go back to sleep now.”

Within minutes she drifted off. The rest of the night, her dreams were unmolested by Lucas and instead filled with her master’s voice and hands. And images of playing kittens.

***

Asher woke to find Grace still lying across him, just as she’d been the night before. He’d assumed they both would have tossed and turned in their sleep, but if they had, they’d ended up together again by morning. Her hair splayed across him, and he found himself wanting to run his fingers through it again, but he resisted the urge. She looked so peaceful, he didn’t want to wake her.

He carefully shifted her to the pillows and put a robe on, then slipped from the room. When he reached the kitchen, William had already started breakfast. The butler glared up at him.

“Oh, God, William. Are we back to that again? I thought we’d had this discussion.”

William turned away and went back to scrambling the eggs and flipping the bacon. “Will Grace be dining with us?”

“She’s still sleeping. And she won’t be eating at the table. I’m starting her training today.”

The butler started scrambling the eggs more vigorously. Finally, his ability to hold his tongue broke. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe it’s wise to train her like Darcy.”

“Why not?”

“Treating her like an animal after what she’s been through is just––”

“Stop right there. You say it like I’m going to keep her chained up and in a little crate. She’s going to be treated more like a beloved pet. And it won’t be all the time, anyway. Not like I’m going to make her meow or never let her do human things. She’s going to garden and cook. Do cats do those things? Besides, I’m curious to see how this will go. With Darcy it was all a game. A fun game, most definitely, but Grace brings a different . . . flavor to things.”

William scraped the eggs onto the plate, added bacon, and poured a glass of juice. He placed the food on the table and left the room, his final opinion on the matter delivered without words. Asher sighed. William had always been so loyal, and now it was a constant struggle with him. Apparently this house couldn’t be run without at least one mouthy brat in it.

His cock twitched in his pants as he thought about Grace lying in his bed upstairs. His frightened little kitten. He was still appalled by the things Lucas had done to her, and yet the resulting effect was nothing less than spectacular.

He tried to ignore the voice in his head that told him he never could have trained a woman to be this way himself. He wasn’t a hard enough master, although he found himself being more firm with Grace. She called something deep inside him that even he hadn’t been aware of. He’d always known his own nature, but the nuance his newest slave called forth was at times both baffling and scary.

It was hard not to compare the two women. They were so different. One dark. One fair. One playful and disrespectful, the other so utterly broken that it caused both his chest and his pants to tighten for contradictory reasons.

Each time he found a way in which Darcy was lacking but Grace excelled, he felt guiltier. As if he were betraying his former pet’s memory. He’d loved Darcy. More than life. Yet Grace stirred him out of his preoccupations with the past.

He finished his breakfast and made a list of exactly what he wanted to do with his pet for the day. Her first day had gone better than he’d expected. He’d decided being weak with her would be a greater mistake than being weak with Darcy had been. He was sure at least this time it wouldn’t end in anyone’s death.

Asher let her sleep for a couple more hours then climbed the stairs, wondering where she was. He found her in his bed, sitting against the headboard.

“How long have you been awake?”

“An hour,” she said. She’d wrapped herself in the blankets, shielding her nudity.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yes, Master.”

It hurt his heart to think she’d been sitting in his room, scared to leave or do anything without direct permission. If he’d just left her to come downstairs when she felt like it, she might have spent the whole day in the room. Though at some point William or he would have sought her out and at least fed her.

“You’re allowed to leave this room, kitten. No one is locking you in. You need to stay on the property so someone doesn’t try to run off with you, but you can go outside and down to the beach or the garden. And in a few days I’ll take you out somewhere.”

She tensed at that, and he remembered. The only times she’d been out with her former master had been when he’d paraded her around naked at those showings or when he just wanted to go to a club and show her off.

Asher opened the drawer in the bedside table and retrieved a platinum collar. The collar had
Property of Asher Collins
engraved in heavy block letters around it. He locked it around her throat.

***

Grace sat perfectly still, barely breathing as he slipped the collar around her neck and the lock clicked into place. She’d caught a glimpse of the engraved letters. She’d never had a real collar before. She hadn’t known she was missing something until she’d seen other slaves wearing them when Lucas took her out. Sometimes he’d put a collar on her simply so he could attach a leash, but it had been black leather and buckled in place. It didn’t lock. Not like this one.

Other girls had platinum bands locked around their throats, and Grace had felt somehow that, right or wrong, not having one of those platinum bands with her owner’s name engraved on it was some sort of mark of shame, telling the world she was bad. As if Lucas didn’t want to truly lay claim to her and didn’t want others to know who she belonged to.

That desire had been mutual. She had never been proud to be owned by Lucas. She’d mostly just been afraid and hoping for it to somehow end, but still, she’d looked at those other slaves with their expensive collars and she felt they must have something better. Something she didn’t have and would never have.

Now one of those collars was locked securely around her neck with Asher’s name on it. Her fingers moved tentatively to run over the smooth metal and engraved lettering. “Thank you, Master.”

“I should have put it on you yesterday, but there were so many other things going on. Would you like to talk to your friend before breakfast?”

She looked up at him. Did he mean Lainey?

“The one you spoke with yesterday on the computer.”

Grace wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk to Lainey or not. She felt bad that her friend had worried and mourned, but all further communication would bring were questions and more questions. Questions she didn’t want to answer now. Or ever. Like what Lucas had done to her. And questions she didn’t yet know how to answer. Like was Asher good to her.

He was good to her right now, but it had only been twenty-four hours. She couldn’t bring herself to be that stupid, naïve girl again. Yet, at the same time, she wanted to lap up every good thing he gave her in case it all disappeared.