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Caleb Jennings owned Risqué and a couple of lesser venues in the Commons. He was ridiculously handsome, lithe and well-toned. With his piercing blue eyes, short curly dark brown hair, a noble nose and elegant thin lips, Caleb was the type of man I usually went for. Except, I didn’t like that fucker one bit. There was something slimy about him. While there was no proof, rumor had it that his women didn’t have a good time and were in no condition to speak of it when he was done with them. Marcus made it a point to keep me far away from Caleb whenever he dropped by the Commons looking for a ‘companion’ to entertain him.
“What a lovely pet you have there,” Caleb said, his eyes slowly examining me. “I didn’t know you were into that.”
Anton turned slightly to look at me. I hoped the subdued lighting would hide the heat creeping into my cheeks at Sheila’s smirk. A light pull on the golden leash made me step forward, closer to him. Anton wrapped his arm around me, his warm hand resting on my ass. It felt comforting.
“What is anyone ever really into?” Anton asked. “Sade boasts it can fulfill any fetish or fantasy. I can’t think of a better place for Grace and me to discover what pleases us.”
“Ah, experimenting then,” Caleb said, giving me an assessing look.
Sheila narrowed her eyes. I didn’t know if it had been intentional or not, but with those words, Anton turned my humiliation into consensual kinky role-play. I wanted to hug him in gratitude. Anton replied with a non-committal smile.
“And what else do you intend to experiment with, Mr. Myers?” Sheila asked, shifting slightly so the slit of her dress parted, exposing the entire length of her stunning leg. “I hear they’ve been extremely creative in the swingers’ section.”
I barely managed to swallow the shocked gasp that almost escaped me. Could the tramp be any more obvious?
Caleb chuckled. “Ah yes, they’ve got much to keep a couple entertained. If you were so inclined, I would gladly take care of your pet while you explore that section with Sheila.”
My heart stopped. I didn’t want that bitch anywhere near Anton. But worse, I didnotwant Caleb ‘taking care’ of me. Whether or not the rumors were true, the man gave me the creeps. I tried to school my features but couldn’t help a wary glance at Anton.
“A tempting offer,” Anton said, his thumb caressing the curve of my ass. “One I must decline, however. I have no doubt, Caleb, that you will have no problem finding a trade partner with such a delightful woman on your arm,” Anton said, bowing his head at Sheila, “but I am quite set on discovering the kinks of my own delectable companion tonight. Maybe another time.”
Sheila smiled but I could see the venom in her eyes. Though I knew better, I couldn’t help casting a triumphant smirk her way as Anton led me to our booth, and the Braxian delegation.
Chapter 7
Anton
The tension oozing out of Grace was palpable as we approached my booth. My ‘friends’ ogled her with lust-filled expressions. Not for the first time since leaving the penthouse, I berated myself for making her wear that outfit. She looked stunning. The dark leather accentuated the narrow curve of her hips and cupped her perky tits. And that tail… that damn tail fluttering this way and that with every step, drawing every eye to her perfect ass. I wanted to rip it out and bury my cock in her tight hole instead. And I would… soon. But all her beauty was meant for my eyes only. Grace was mine. Yet, here I was, like a fucking idiot, exposing her assets to every bastard on the station. I was doing exactly what I’d told her was wrong about her clothing choices.
Fucking moron…
And Caleb… I would never let that sick fuck anywhere near Grace. He’d maim her, scar the hell out of that perfect creamy skin like he had poor Evelyn. The bastard liked cutting girls with flawless skins, then fucking and whipping them while they bled to create blood splatter art.
Art my ass.
By the time he’d been done with Evelyn, not an inch of her body or face had been spared. She’d gone into shock from blood loss. The cuts performed with a slightly heated scalpel left horrible scars that no amount of surgery could fix. The poor girl was so broken she took her life. I knew Caleb still indulged in his sick games but took the girls off station, outside of my jurisdiction.
Grace’s obvious reluctance to go with him both surprised and pleased me. She liked pretty men. I expected her to be dripping wet for him. Maybe she had better survival instincts than I gave her credit for.
We climbed the stairs to the booth, and I once again cursed myself for her outfit. It was meant to humiliate her as she had humiliated me six years ago. And yet, Sheila’s mocking smile spurred me to protect Grace rather than twist the knife further. I rubbed my hand over my face. I was fucking pathetic. Maybe the purebloods were right, and I was just a weak mutt.
These six months were meant to punish her and regain my honor. But here I was, panting after her like a lovesick puppy. Even now, I ached to drag her back home and fuck her into next week. The way she felt around my cock when I took her against the wall… I had wanted to stay in her embrace forever. Six years living among humans softened me. Now that I possessed the object of my obsession, I needed to cure myself of my weakness.
I saluted my guests as they rose to greet me. The leader of the Veelan Clan, Pattel, was a respectable, older Braxian. Unlike most Braxians, he promoted peace over violence. Sitting next to him was Gerwin, the firstborn son of the Caldes Clan leader. I hated that bastard. He was a bully and wielded his clan’s status and power like a whip over those he considered inferior. As a mixed-breed, I was his favorite target. Toran and Jarvis were Gerwin’s bitches. Both also firstborn sons of their respective clan leader, they followed Gerwin’s lead in all things.
As the firstborn son of my own clan leader, I should have become my father’s heir. But a mutt, a half-breed, couldn’t become more than a servant or a slave. Women, who were viewed as property and broodmares on Braxia, received more respect than one of tainted blood. Gerwin made sure to remind me of it on a regular basis. However, despite my lack of status, my achievements and failures all reflected on my clan. Entertaining the Braxian elite elevated the prestige of my clan, and so I suffered their presence even though I fucking hated it.
Today, though, was special. They weren’t simply my guests as part of my clan duty, but as witnesses and participants to Grace’s punishment as I reclaimed my trampled honor. I sat across from my guests on the burgundy leather love seat. Grace settled at my feet on a padded cushion.
“We thank you once again, Anton, for your generous invitation,” Pattel said, his eyes gliding over Grace before resting on me.
“My pleasure, Elder Pattel,” I said, my smile gracious. “They’ve promised quite the spectacle tonight.”
A taunting grin flickered across Gerwin’s face. “Indeed, very considerate of you, Myers.”
I gritted my teeth at the slight. Myers was my mother’s name. As a half-breed, I wasn’t allowed to bear my father’s name. You only called someone by their last name to indicate they were strangers, of lesser rank or as a mark of contempt. He was baiting me, hoping I’d challenge him to fight so he could prove his physical superiority. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“I’m always happy to extend my good fortune to the clans,” I said, with a mocking grin of my own.
