29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Quinn
Everything from my waist down burns. Each lash blends into the last, and I try to count them, but I can’t. I went too far. I poked the bear, and I don’t think I can stand this. I’m fucking finished.
My cheek presses into the table, and I drift. I’m pretty sure I’m crying, but I don’t even know any more. I can’t feel anything beyond the pain. The rest of me has ceased to exist.
You knew this was going to happen. You wanted it.
A single clear thought, and I’m not sure if it’s my own voice or Jacob’s. It rings through me, over and over, in time with the belt. Each agonizing lash drives sound out of me in whimpers, even as strange relaxation spreads through my body. My mind lets go, wrapping itself in the pain like a blanket.
You knew it.
You knew.
I did. I really did.
At some point, it stops.
“That’ll do. Thanks.”
The hands holding me vanish. Whose were they again? I know I should be embarrassed, but I can’t focus enough to find it. All I can do is lie like a jellyfish out of water as my mind swirls and my ass pulses with heat.
I stay there until sounds creep back in and my surroundings swim into focus. The dining room. All the people. Eve. Hadrian. The guys. Fucking Kendrick.
Shit.
I’m lying on the table, ass out for all to see. Shame spears in, shattering the weird peace with its cold, miserable reality. I fight back the last of the weird trippy feeling. What the hell was that? Kind of like the very start of an acid trip, the moment the word starts to lose focus.
A hand taps my cheek. I open my eyes and look up, searching for Jacob. I catch a brief, worried expression before he smiles down at me. “Welcome back.”
He disappears from view, and I hiss as he pulls up my panties. Even the light cotton stings, and the pain sends another ripple of something through me. A shudder that feels far too good. It’s nice. It shouldn’t be, but I don’t really care.
“Get it together, love. It’s almost time for dessert.”
What? I can’t sit and eat fucking dessert. I try to say as much, but Jacob’s hands are already on me, lifting me off the table and placing me into my seat.
Oh my fucking God.
The pain as my ass hits the seat is unbearable. I try to lurch up, but my ankles are still lashed together, and Jacob’s hands stop me. His voice drops low, a little menace creeping in. “Remember what we spoke about on day one? After your punishment, you sit and think about what you’ve done. I’ll tie you to the chair if I have to.”
No. No. No. Being tied to the chair is so much worse. At least this way, I can shift on the seat. I settle back down with a hiss, and Jacob slides me so I’m seated at the table.
I keep my eyes on the wood, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze. I’d see sympathy from the other Wards, no doubt. And I don’t know what from the Brothers.
“Oh, one last thing. Remember what I said about the bra?”
Jesus, will he ever let one single fucking thing go unchecked? He’s like a robot, with a perfect recall of everything he’s ever threatened.
“You can take it off yourself, or I’ll cut it off. Your choice.”
My fucking choice. He loves saying that, but he never gives me any real ones. “I’ll have no clothes left if you keep doing that,” I grumble, reaching back to undo the hooks and sliding it out, one arm at a time. Why does the top have to be white? At least my tits are small.
I extract the bra and set it on my lap. Jacob clucks his tongue, takes it off me, and sets it on the table for all to see. I don’t know why it’s so embarrassing after everything else he’s done, but somehow, it is. My face heats to match my ass, and my shoulders slump. I’m sulking, and I don’t care who knows it.
Jacob’s hand lands on my knee, tracing a gentle pattern over the skin. The soft touch, after so much harshness, is almost too much. I want to slap his hand away and lean my head on him in equal measure.
He bends his head down to mine. “There. Did you get what you wanted?” An echo of the voice in my head during the punishment. “Just had to make a scene, didn’t you?”
“I just wanted a damn drink.” It comes out all pouty. God, he’s right. I am a brat.
“Uh huh.” Jacob’s fingers move higher up my thigh.
My legs are still tied shut, and he pauses at my tightly pressed knees. Conversation has resumed around us, though I’m sure people are still looking at me. I’m not going to lift my head. I’ll stare at this table until we’re all dead.
The arrival of dessert provides a distraction, and people start making appreciative noises. I risk a glimpse up to see the waiter bringing out a tray of amazing ice cream sundaes. I’ll give them this—although the setting for this dinner is a total snooze-fest, the food is fun. The Jell-O shots were a big surprise. Shame I only got to have one.
Each sundae is about as big as my head, heaped with chunks of brownie, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and a few different flavors of ice cream. I have a sweet tooth, but this thing is ridiculous. Though it would be the perfect thing to eat in bed to drive Jacob crazy.
The screaming pain in my ass is a reminder not to try that any time soon.
I’m too distracted by the ice cream to realize what Jacob is doing until the belt falls away from my ankles, freeing my legs. Then his damn hand is back. He’s pushing my thighs apart with his right while simultaneously starting on his dessert with his left. Multi-fucking-talented.
I squish my knees together and whisper to him, “What the hell are you doing?”
His return whisper is gravelly and full of heat. “Open those legs if you don’t want to end up back over the table whilst I do this in front of everyone. No one can see my hand, but everyone can see your face. So shut up, keep smiling, and eat your fucking ice cream.”
Hands shaking, I pull the giant sundae toward me as I force myself to relax my thighs. Eating. Eating is good, because people are less likely to talk to me. They probably won’t after what they just witnessed, but the less chance I give them, the better.
I take a spoonful of the chocolaty concoction, the sweetness hitting my tongue just as Jacob’s fingers scrape along my panties, right over my clit. My body reacts, and at this point, I don’t know if it’s in spite of the pain and humiliation or because of it.
Jacob has total control of my orgasms and isn’t very goddamn generous about handing them out, so I’m always ready at the slightest touch. Like my body sees the opportunity and isn’t going to waste it, whatever the circumstance.
I take tiny spoonfuls of the sundae, careful not to meet anyone’s gaze, as his fingers play. His nails scrape back and forth over the magic spot slowly, and in seconds, he’s driving me mad. Christ. My cheeks, already burning from the punishment, have to be pure scarlet now. And the whole time, Jacob is yakking away with some random guy.
Something is wrong with that man.
He slips his fingers inside my panties just as Kendrick dings a spoon on his glass. Fuck. I have to look at him. Not doing so would just draw more attention. He’s smiling, looking around the group with satisfaction, and I think I even detect a hint of amusement when his eyes rest on me.
Great. My embarrassment even managed to entertain the World’s Most Serious Man. Jacob’s fingers are probing inside me now, moving easily because I’m so damn wet. They’re thick and rough, and God, I love the rasp of them over my sensitive skin. He returns to my clit, gliding over it with firm strokes that have me clutching my sundae glass in a white-knuckled grip.
It feels too good. The pressure is growing in my insides, the delicious buildup to release. But he’s moving too slow to let it happen, and I know he’s doing it on purpose. The bastard. The pain from my ass only adds to the unbearable need.
Kendrick speaks. “I’m sure you’ve all enjoyed the evening so far. Especially the entertainment.” There’s a ripple of laughter, and I stare back at the table, feeling the burn of eyes on me.
“As a side note, if any of you young Brothers are having issues disciplining your Wards, I’d suggest you speak to Jacob for tips. He’s taken on a very difficult task with his Quinn and is taming her admirably. I have no doubt she’ll be well prepared for the ceremony.”
Christ on a motherfucking bike. Every time I think things can’t get worse, they do. Is it possible to die of humiliation? I’m sure it must be. I try to imagine myself as a superhero punching Kendrick in the face and knocking him through the wall, but it doesn’t work. Jacob’s fingers are stealing any minor resistance I might have had left.
“Anyway, at the risk of this feeling like one of those dreadful corporate retreats, I’d like to go around the room and have each Brother tell us a little about your work. Recent successes, current frustrations. After all, the advancement of science is why we are all here. Let’s take the time to acknowledge it.”
Seriously? Even in a cult, he wants to have an “introduce yourself to the group” session? This place gets weirder every day. I try to listen, but most of the sciency discussion goes over my head, and I can’t focus anyway with the way Jacob is playing me like a goddamn violin.
The throbbing in my ass has passed to my clit, melding with the beating of my heart and the relentless movement of his fingers. I’m dripping with need and probably have a wet patch on my skirt. It’s too much, and I want to beg Jacob to just let me finish, but I can’t. And it wouldn’t do me any good anyway. If he wants me to come, I will.
Because he owns me. He fucking owns me, and what that truly means is sinking in more and more each second.
The round-robin reaches Jacob, and the man doesn't miss a beat, keeping his fingers moving as he discusses telomeres, decay rates, and DNA. He even thanks Eve for her assistance, which draws a nod from Kendrick. “Glad to hear it. In the Brotherhood, we never let talent go to waste. Now, Hadrian, what have you been working on?”
This, at least, I can follow. Hadrian talks about Candice, her increasing ability to function as a human, and her developing emotions. Then, to my absolute blackest pit of horror, he gestures to me. “Quinn has been a huge help this last week. So many people are unsettled by my creations, but she enjoys spending time with them. Don’t you?”
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
Please, please, please, Jacob. Stop for a moment.
He doesn’t.
Everyone is watching me, polite smiles on their faces. I clear my throat and try to talk without it turning into a squeak. “Erm. Yes. I’ve spent a lot of time with Candice. She’s a good friend.”
Kendrick’s eyes sharpen. “A friend?”
Fuck everything under the sun, but now Kendrick’s attention is one hundred percent on me. Jacob, the absolute bastard that he is, pinches my clit between his fingers in the way he knows I love more than anything else. It almost happens. I almost crash into an orgasm right as Kendrick and everyone else are focused on me.
It takes everything I have to hold it off and answer. “Yes. She’s funny and interesting. You should spend some time with her yourself and get to know her.”
He nods. “Thank you, Quinn. Perhaps I will. Now, Brian, what do you have for us?”
My body relaxes as the attention leaves me, and Jacob’s fingers finally, finally speed up. I bite my lip and grip the sundae glass as pleasure explodes through every part of me, so intense I want to scream it out to the world. My head feels like it’s going to explode from the effort of holding it in.
I shudder, Jacob’s fingers thrust into me, and my body clamps onto them tightly as my breath comes in ragged little pants. Gradually, the high fades as Brian drones on about something with a lot of math involved. That was terrible. And amazing. Both things at once.
As my brain gradually comes back online, I realize my nipples are hard points, very obvious through the crop top, and my ass is really starting to hurt. Jacob’s hand disappears, leaving me free to squirm on my seat to relieve the pressure.
I look at him and find he’s watching me with a knowing smile on his face. He leans close to whisper, “You’ll thank me for that later, from your knees.”
I splutter. “Thank you?”
“Yes. It was—” His phone buzzes. No, not just his. Every phone in the room, by the sound of it.
Kendrick’s expression turns serious. “The emergency function.” He snatches his own phone from his suit pocket.
I crane over to see what Jacob is staring at on his screen. It’s a video of a burning house.
Jacob’s face pales, and his fist clenches tight on the phone. “That’s Grandad’s house. Kendrick, tell the Gilda to get the chopper ready, and call those fuckwits that are supposed to be guarding him. Have a team meet me at the helipad.”
He races from the room without a backward glance.