9. Jafar
Jafar
I knew I’d have to go through this song and dance the first time I brought Yasmina to the Underworld.
I counted on it. I can take or leave playing in public, so attending a dungeon isn’t on my list of must-haves solely for the sex.
Maintaining a membership so I can keep my thumb on the pulse of the city?
That’s worth the hefty fee I pay every month and any grandstanding Hades requires.
Knowing that doesn’t stifle my irritation as I press my hand to Yasmina’s back and guide her in the same direction Meg took a few moments ago.
My baby girl wants to be shared, and from her reaction to Meg, she’s just as much a fan of women as she is of men. I didn’t anticipate that. It turns out I didn’t anticipate a lot of things when it comes to Yasmina Sarraf.
“Remember the rules,” I murmur.
“I remember.” On cue, she drops her gaze to the floor.
I don’t need that shit the same way some people in this place do, but I can’t deny a thrill at the easy obedience.
It’s likely only because she’s overwhelmed and probably overly sensitized.
If the floor felt steady beneath Yasmina’s feet, she’d already have swung at me, pushed me until I was tempted to fuck her right there against the bar to prove a point.
She loves dancing on my buttons, and I can’t quite manage to hold it against her.
I push open the door and hold it while she walks through next to me.
Hades does a round through the bar once a night, but he mostly stays in his private study if he’s in the mood to entertain.
The nights he plays in the public rooms, though, are the kind of nights that draw a crowd.
It takes a specific kind of person to hold this place together with the amount of power that moves through its doors, and Hades has the personality for it in spades.
His button pushing irritates the fuck out of me.
The study is decorated in the same expensive understated tone as the main room.
Sturdy leather furniture, thick carpet, dim lighting except for the trio of sculptures lining the back wall.
I hate the low lighting. It gives the feeling of not being able to see the truth of things, and I have to keep reminding myself not to squint and give even that much reaction.
I prefer to see everything in startling clarity. Hades is a fucking romantic.
He waits for us in his favorite chair, a giant piece that could easily fit three people fucking.
? 1 It has in the past. He’s a lean white man in his midfifties, his dark hair now sprinkled liberally with gray, especially at the temples.
He’s wearing his customary square-framed glasses and black on black suit.
Tonight, he’s got Meg kneeling at his feet, the very picture of a subservient submissive, her eyes downcast and her hands neatly folded in her lap.
Hades sits forward as we cross the room, and I have to fight the urge to step in front of Yasmina to shield her from his gaze.
He claims to know what his people want before even they do; the truth is he’s simply excellent at reading people and body language. No magic required.
It doesn’t stop him from dazzling newbies.
“You’re right, Meg. She’s exquisite.” He turns that penetrating look in my direction. “It would take someone special to sideline our Jafar, though, so I suppose that’s to be expected.”
“Hades.”
“Let your baby girl come closer, Jafar. I want a better look at her.”
I bite back a sigh. I shouldn’t be surprised that Meg basically sprinted back here to report our conversation. She’s Hades’s creature through and through. It’d be a damn shame if she didn’t seem so pleased by that fact most of the time.
“Go ahead.” I pitch my voice low, though there’s no way Hades won’t hear.
No doubt he can see the fine shakes working through Yasmina’s body from where he sits.
Desire, yes, but she’s taking in so much, so fast. Too fast. Something else I should have anticipated.
The woman has been locked up her entire life; introducing her to the world outside her father’s walls should be done in small sips, no matter how she chafes at the restraint.
Bringing her here is the equivalent of throwing her off the deep end and expecting her not to panic. At least she trusts me enough to find my touch anchoring, even if she doesn’t realize that’s what’s happening.
If anyone realizes how precarious our balance is at this moment, it would be child’s play to knock us both on our asses. I hold myself perfectly still, as if she is just another submissive, I’m just another Dominant allowing the master of this place to investigate my property.
“Come closer, child. I won’t bite.” Hades grins, his white teeth flashing. “At least not unless you ask very nicely.”
Yasmina takes the last few steps that bring her nearly close enough for Hades to touch. He doesn’t. He’s too well-mannered for that under usual circumstances, though I can see the calculation in his dark eyes, already considering how to use this development to further his interests.
“Yasmina.” He says her name as if he can already taste her on his tongue.
I take a step forward before I catch myself. Damn it.
Hades grins at me. “Got you.” He turns back to Yasmina.
“Jafar has been a hard nut to crack. He fucks like a champ, but getting into that deliciously conniving brain of his? Impossible. And here you come, this near innocent with a taste for…” He inhales deeply as if taking in her scent.
Her very soul. “Rough play. Very, very rough play. You like him to force your subservience.” His voice deepens. “I approve.”
“That’s enough, Hades.” It doesn’t matter how he figured it out. I won’t have him stripping her bare here, not while she and I are on such fragile ground.
Hades’s grin turns knife-sharp. “Caged birds always crave the sky, Jafar. You’d do well to remember that.
” He takes Yasmina’s hand and presses his lips to her knuckles.
“You’re always welcome here in the Underworld, Yasmina Sarraf.
If you ever want to bargain, I’m more than happy to make time for you.
” He grins against her knuckles. “And if you want to play with our Meg, I’d be delighted to arrange that as well. ”
“Hades.”
“Yes, yes, I’m overstepping. Can’t let your prisoner know there’s a trapdoor within reach, can we?
” He finally releases Yasmina’s hand, but he coasts his thumb over her knuckles in a casual move that sends my blood pressure through the roof.
There’s no reason for it. Hades is casually intimate with everyone until he’s not.
His touching Yasmina means nothing. Her catching her breath at the feeling of his lips on her skin means jack shit.
I have absolutely no reason to be jealous. That doesn’t stop me from snapping my fingers at her. “Attend, baby girl.” A reminder of whose hand holds her leash.
The image of Yasmina in a collar, of gripping a chain attached to it, slaps me in the face. I have to shove it away to prevent my body from reacting. Now isn’t the time to lose control, not while we have an audience watching so closely.
Once Yasmina has taken up a position at my side, I turn my attention back to Hades. “Don’t overstep.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Again, his slow smile spells nothing but trouble. “As long as you remember to play by the rules. Your little coup has a lot of people looking over their shoulders. It doesn’t suit my interests to have Carver City paranoid and up in arms. Bad for business, you know.”
Ah. So we’ve reached the real reason for this visit. I hold up my hands and affect a casual smile. “No need for anyone to worry…as long as they aren’t thinking of taking advantage of the change in power. I have no intention of expanding territory.” For now.
Hades chuckles. “Somehow, I don’t think the naked ambition shining in those pretty dark eyes will make anyone feel better.
” He smooths a hand over his hair. It’s as perfectly styled as always, the silver in the dark strands lending him a layer of respectability that he plays up for all he’s worth.
“Go enjoy yourself, Jafar. But be aware that we’re watching. ”
Of course they are. As the newest power player to step up, I’m both a threat and more vulnerable than those who have held their positions for years—and decades in some cases. I have to solidify my base, and quickly, to prevent anyone from making a move that will end with me six feet under.
Tonight is partly about that.
There are those who pay more attention to bloodlines than others, but putting my collar around Balthazar’s daughter’s neck sends a clear message regardless of which side of the line they land on. If I were smarter, that would be the only reason I’m playing the game out like this.
It’s not the only reason. I can pretend I haven’t watched her every day for the last five years, can pretend I haven’t fought my desire for her for the same amount of time. Most people will even believe it.
Not Yasmina. Even in her relative innocence, she knows better.
I don’t speak as I guide her out of the room, down the hall, and into the main lounge. It’s Yasmina who sighs and says in barely a whisper, “This is all a show for the people he’s talking about. I’m the show.”
I should say yes and create clear boundaries between us.
Now is not the time to allow myself to be distracted, no matter how good her pussy is.
What’s more, it’s good business to cut her confidence down before she finds her legs.
Yasmina was never allowed to stretch her wings enough to find her power when she lived in her father’s home.
I’d be a fool ten times over to allow it in mine.
And yet…
I am that fool, because I can’t fucking do it. “Playing the game protects us and everyone under us.”? 2