Tria Page 8

  He’d been surprised that she hadn’t giving in to it before that. She’d been gently reared – relatively – and cloistered to an extreme extent all her life, and then suddenly thrust, naked, into the limelight for a day, then dragged off on horseback with a strange man to a strange home, where she was physically punished sometimes several times a day, and raped in various ways at any time of the day or night.

  She hadn’t owned her body while she was being raised by Hoffman, but here she’d lost even more control over herself – of even who was inside her, or how long or how hard. What little control she’d thought she’d had had dissolved in the wind as she was put on display for all those slavering, slobbering men. When he thought about it, even though he was one of them, his blood ran cold. As soon as he’d seen her, he’d known that he would have bid anything he owned, any service he could perform, in order to have her. She’d shone amongst that group like a diamond amidst ashes, and he was determined that she would be his.

  Normally, he sold himself to the highest bidder, which usually ended up being foreign governments who prized his talents with a long range rifle – not small time business men like Hoffman, who, despite his reputation was hardly a big wheel in anything but his chosen little niche. Thomas couldn’t imagine what he’d want with services such as his, but his was not to question why. He was just glad that it was enough to get him what he wanted.

  And here she was, bawling in his arms as if her heart had been torn in two within her. He supposed he could order her not to cry, but he didn’t want or need her to go all wiggy on her later on, because he’d spent his time trying to legislate her emotions. One of the few things he’d learn from his limited time within the realm of things feminine was that it was never a good idea – even in the case of being the final authority over a woman – to try to make them feel one way or another about anything.

  He could do that – he could let her have her emotional displays, as long as they weren’t too frequent or destructive to herself or his property. It would probably be good for her every once in a while to just let go and cry. He was prepared to hold her and almost comfort her, in his own way – but not forever.

  Luckily for her, it didn’t last that long. He’d pretty thoroughly exhausted her with his ministrations this afternoon, and she fell asleep in his arms. He decided he had work to do rather than letting himself hold her as she slept, so he carefully bound her, as she’d become used to while she slept, managing to do it stealthily enough that he didn’t even wake her.

  He left orders that she not be disturbed for any reason, and that if she woke she was not to be released by anyone but himself, which mean that she was to remain tied to the bed until he came home.

  Thomas didn’t really have anything else to do, so he took his big gelding out for a recreation ride, which he almost never did, mulling things over in his mind and keeping himself consciously away from her for a while. He recognized the fact that if he hung around her too much when she was all weepy like that, he might put himself in mortal danger of losing his heart to her, and he didn’t intend to do that. It would make him weak, make him less likely to give her exactly what she needed – hard to bear, frequent punishments that made her truly regretful of what she’d done to earn them, or even just that she’d had the ill fortune to be purchased by him. It might make her a little more likely to pleasure her, although he didn’t know if that was a possibility.

  He liked the dualities of what he brought to her – he was her agony and ecstasy personified, and she never really knew what she was going to get from him. He’d adored pushing her past the tortured, bitten, and weighted nipples, the grossly stretched anal opening, and the welts and wheals he’d dealt her delicate skin to achieve the ultimate reward for enduring all of that. Four ultimate rewards, if he’d counted correctly.

  Thomas knew she was capable of much more than that, but he was aware of the law of diminishing returns in regards to female orgasms. The first woman he’d slept with – a go getter real estate agent named Marianne, who was more than twenty years his senior – had taught him that even the most orgasmic women benefited from a little time between bouts to recoup. He’d been the first man in her life who had taken the time to see that she earned her own back while they were coupling, and he’d made sure that she’d always come to fruition at least three or four times whenever they were together, even though she could have exploded all afternoon long. Past that, she’d told him, was not much more of an event than a muscular contraction.

  He’d taken Tria to the end of her rope one time, bringing her off so many times he’d lost count, but he’d found that it was the same for her. She was so sensitive that there was no build up, and he was nothing if not the king of build up. He’d denied himself for nearly a year before he’d gotten her, only deigning to satisfy himself by his own hand, and then only when he couldn’t possibly stand it another minute longer.

  He’d spent that time wishing he’d known what she looked like, but Hoffman would never allow any pictures to be taken of his women. They were always beautiful – always had been – but nothing could have prepared him for Tria. Nothing.

  And she would never – could never – know how close she had come – could come – to touching his heart.

  Chapter Eight

  They never discussed what happened to her sometimes. It was swept entirely under the rug by the both of them – Tria was entirely embarrassed, and knew that she should have been due a spanking about it for some reason or other, and Thomas just didn’t want to think about it in any way, shape, or form, so he tucked it away.

  What he didn’t notice about himself and his behavior was that she had changed him, too. Not forcibly – she didn’t have the physical power to force him to do anything. But Lima and Rook noticed it. He was there more, and wasn’t taking absolutely every possible excuse to get away from this place. He’d always been a loner, and the older it got it seemed the worse it got. Sometimes they didn’t see him for months on end, didn’t know if he was alive or dead. Sometimes he came home injured and half dead.

  But Lima new that, now that he had Tria, he was actually turning down work, and being very selective about what jobs he did accept, weighing, she imagined, just how long it was going to keep him away from Tria.

  One evening, when he should have been working but was indulging himself in having the beautiful young woman stretched out across his lap, playing with her nipples and occasionally delving down between her legs to marvel at the copious fluids he found there, his conscience kicked in about the fact that he’d taken a particular man’s merchandise in barter and hadn’t done what he’d said he’d do yet. So he decided that he needed to go into the nearest town, which was about six miles to the west, and check out a dive that was often frequented by the worst of the worst, in order to gather some information he would need to track a certain thief’s movements.

  But he really didn’t want to leave Tria. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to go. That had never happened to him before. He’d always loved his work – every single slimy, underhanded bit of it. But now, he’d rather be home, bringing her to tears one way or the other.

  So he made the unusual, unheard of move of taking her with him. Lima was clearly outraged at the idea. He hadn’t so much as let her out of the house, yet he was going to take her to the Skow? The only women who haunted that dive were those whose owners pimped them out by the hour, half hour, or minute, in some cases. Lima didn’t worry for Tria’s safety at all – she knew that Thomas would die before he’d let anything happen to either or them, and if there was one man left in the world who could pretty much guarantee the personal safety of anyone he chose to bestow his protection upon, it was Thomas.

  He wouldn’t hear a word against it, not that she’d dared to really say anything, just “tsked” occasionally under her breath and shook her head as she watched him get ready and lead Tria out the door, still completely naked but for her golden collar and leather cuffs he’d placed around her wrists
and ankles.

  Tria would probably never be comfortable on a horse, and riding in front of him didn’t help. At least he did pull his cloak around her – it was somewhat chilly and damp outside. But that didn’t stop her breasts from bouncing up and down against his hairy chest, rubbing her nipples almost raw by the time they made it into town.

  He parked his horse at the hitching post next to several others and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the dimly lit room behind him. Tria’s eyes took a while to adjust to the lack of lighting in the room, and when they did they went completely round. She’d never seen such a place in her life, and as she was perusing the place and its grimy occupants, they were all inspecting her right back, especially since she was one of only two women in the whole place, and she was the only naked person there.

  Due to the shortage of women, there were several men in attendance that hadn’t seen a naked woman this up close in years, and some of them were barely able to restrain themselves. One of them who was new to the area and obviously didn’t know who it was that he’d be insulting by his action, absolutely couldn’t, and reached out to touch her. Before he actually made contact with her, he found his arm bent backwards at an awkward, unnatural angle, and Tria actually heard the bones snap before Thomas let him go.

  Once that happened, he didn’t need to elaborate any further about what he would or would not tolerate in regards to his female. They could look and drool and fantasize all they wanted, but they most definitely could not touch.

  He sat down at a table where he could put his back to the wall and watch everyone else come in. Tria stood next to his chair, trying desperately to forget the way all of those male eyes felt on her. It was shades of the Circus, only on a smaller and incredibly grimier scale.

  A drink appeared before him without his having to order it. In short order, the chairs at his table filled, with each occupant even more disheveled and unkempt than the last, and all of them eying her up and down as they quite literally drooled over their disgusting fantasies of what they would do to her if only she was available.

  He was the only thing standing between them and her. But he was more than enough of a deterrent. No one wanted to see what he’d do to the next man that decided to take his life in his hands and try to touch something of he owned.

  Tria could hear snatched of the quietly conducted conversations, and saw small slips of paper exchanged occasionally, but other than that she spent her time trying desperately to lean away from the men who surrounded her and towards Sir, who eyed her not so subtle movements with a small smile just before he pulled her closer to his side, which made Tria issue an audible sigh of relief.

  But her relief was very short lived, because seconds after he’d wrapped his arm around her waist, he looked up at her and said in a very serious tone, “Turn around and bend over and grab your ankles. Don’t let go.”

  She’d been with him long enough that she’d learned – the hard way – that even the slightest hesitation would earn her a searing punishment that she didn’t want, and she certainly didn’t want to find out whether he’d decide to give it to her here, or wait until they got home. So, although her eyes had again gone wide with surprise, she did exactly as she was told.

  Thomas looked at the men sitting in front of him, watching them coolly as he said, “Spread your legs as far as you can.”

  Luckily for Tria, it was such tight quarters that she couldn’t manage to comply very much, but certainly enough to make her face shine like a beacon of heat and light, not that anyone was paying that part of her any amount of attention what so ever. They were all too fascinated with the new, intimate parts of her that were put on such display. She was so wedged into place that she could actually feel the hot and heavy breath of the man she was closest to wafting over her privates, but he wisely kept his hands to himself.

  “Now open yourself for me. Let the gentlemen get a peek at what they’re missing.” He didn’t even look at her to see whether or not she obeyed him. He knew she would, and it was reflected in the eager faces of the men around him. They were so easily impressed and controlled – he had the information he wanted from them within a few seconds after she’d bent over, they were so distracted. Unfortunately, none of them were the actual target, and he had a feeling they were holding something back.

  Thomas reached over to her absently, sure of enough of exactly where she was in relation to himself that he still hadn’t looked over at her, but instead brailled his hand over her bottom then across to that perpetually moist, fleshy opening of hers, twirling his fingers around a little in her honey, then showing them to the men, who each took a good deep breath, hoping to catch even the slightest whiff of her scent on his fingers, which he then applied to her clit.

  He commented casually for her ears only in a voice like liquid velvet that carried to everyone in the entire room as he continued to meet the eyes of the heavy breathing contingent before him, “If I think you’re holding back, I’m going to flay your backside good, female. Do you understand me?”

  A hush fell across the place. Everyone was waiting for her answer. Would she comply meekly, as she should? Or would he have to lay that thick belt of his across her nates before she fell into line? Bets were already being placed as to the outcome of this extremely interesting little tableau, and most of the men were betting that she’d damned well do as she was told. Ryker wasn’t the kind of guy who’d put up with a woman who did any less than follow orders to the “T”.

  “Yes, Sir,” came the timely, if somewhat reluctant, reply.

  A cry went up from those men who had been idiot enough to bet against him, but it was virulently “shhhshed” by everyone else who was avidly watching the titillating drama as it unfolded.

  They could all – well, almost all – see that he hadn’t needed any sort of lubrication beyond what she was producing naturally. Some of the men who were ogling her had females of their own at home, but none that were so obviously stimulated by what was happening to them, as this one was, even though she was undoubtedly embarrassed by it.

  Tria was close to passing out, and he’d barely touched her. He hadn’t needed to. Her unusual position and being put on such excruciatingly detailed display seemed to have done the work for her, she was ashamed to admit. And now, having been told that she wasn’t allow to censure her responses to him, despite the fact that every man in the room would be eagerly watching as he pleasured her with those big, insistent fingers of his, made the geyser between her legs gush just that much more. She was going to have to try not to soften each sigh, or dampen each moan, regardless of her audience.

  She knew she was going to do as she was told – what other choice did she have – but she decided on her own to close her eyes before doing so.

  Until he said, “And I want you to keep your eyes open.”

  Tria bit her lip. There went her shred of salvation. She was going to have to see the faces – if upside down – of the leering group as they literally licked their lips at her predicament. Sir’s hand was fluttering over her, barely touching her, but hovering directly over her most pleasurable spot, touching it occasionally but only enough to tease. Still, she emitted a whimpering moan, and heard fifty male breaths being sucked in all at once.

  Thomas thought he might let her off without getting her off, but then he decided that he wanted to make her come, to make her lose control in front of all these men, under his own hand. He started out deliberately slowly, not at all willing to rush it on any account, and kept his eyes on the men. Thomas knew just how dangerous this was – if the men realized that they could all easily have banded together and overpowered him and descended like the ravening beasts that they were on Tria, then they were both lost.

  But they were too caught up in it now, all thinking with their dicks, like most men, including him at some points in his life – more often than not around her lately, although he had generally been better at ignoring his little head than most of his brethren, although he knew exactly what a
ll these men were feeling. It was exactly what he’d begun experiencing the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

  It was that undeniable combination of innocence and sexuality that she exuded unconsciously. She was so innocent – or had been until he’d gotten a hold of her – and yet her body knew exactly what she wanted from him – what his fingers could do for her as it strained and rose up and swelled to entice him.

  Finally, after dipping them again into the wellspring of her juices, he settled his fingers down on her thrumming, living flesh, rubbing all the way over her, down and back, just once. And when he stopped, she squeaked in protest, setting off another round of sighs and loud swallows from the peanut gallery.

  While he was manipulating her outright and the men in front of him only slightly less obviously, he began to ask very pointed questions, and quickly accumulated the rest of the knowledge he needed to complete the task he’d been contracted for.

  But he wasn’t about to leave the men in the middle of things to dry hump each other and despoil the bathrooms with their seed, if any of them bothered to even make it there.

  He stepped up his pace, his fingers vibrating their way up and over her, occasionally reaching down a bit to scoop some lubrication when he needed it, then trailing it up to the heart of her and rubbing the callused pads of his middle and index fingers over the very tip of her again and again.

  Tria is closer to the end than she wants to admit, moaning softly at first, then, as he upped the ante and began to dedicate himself more fully to the task while still staring straight ahead at the men in front of him. “Ahhhhhhh, oh, please, Sir, ooooooooooooh pleeeaaaassee!”