Page 95 of Deadly Rival

I take a seat, drowning in pride as she wiggles to the door in her silly shoes. Sometimes, I still can’t quite believe she’s here. That she’s here because she chose this. Chose me. The tattoo on her shoulder is every bit as beautiful as I imagined it, and she loves it, too. She’s even expressed an interest in getting more ink.

“Isn’t that a bit unladylike?” I teased her when she mentioned it.

“Fuck being ladylike,” was her wonderful reply.

She reaches the door and pauses with her hand on the handle before she yanks it open. Two of my guests have arrived together, and they stare at Ophelia as she stands back to let them in. “Welcome, sirs.” Her voice squeaks, but it’s audible at least. “Please follow me to your seats.”

“Gladly.” They both shoot me impressed glances as Ophelia leads them to the table and takes up her position at my feet.

Before she’s had a chance to settle herself, the buzzer goes again, and my guests watch with interest as she gets to her feet. Thomas, a mediocre player but one of the chattier options I had for tonight’s guest list, mutters, “Congratulations. She’s impressive.”

Four of my guests arrive in quick succession and set Ophelia to mixing drinks. She’s still bright red, but focusing on the cocktails seems to settle her. She turns her back to shake a martini, and I call her on that bad behavior right away.

“No, pet. Face us.”

She does and gets to enjoy five pairs of eyes watching her tits as she shakes the drink.

Her eyes are downcast, and she looks embarrassed as hell; but her nipples are bullets, and she’s pressing her legs together. This is driving her crazy, and I can’t resist making it a bit worse. I set the remote control button in the center of the table.

“Every time you want a drink, gents, press this.”

Vishnu, the only player whose skill I rate better than my own, gives it an experimental tap. Poor Ophelia doubles over, face contorting. Again, the vibrations stop after only two seconds. Enough to torment her, but not enough to give her any relief. “I think it’s broken?”

“No, it’s connected to her clit. Believe me, she’ll know.”

His face splits in a wide grin. “You’re evil.”

He taps the button again. “One old-fashioned, please, Ophelia.”

She manages a strangled “Yes, sir” and goes back to her work.

The door buzzer goes one final time. Ophelia heads to answer in a hurry, probably glad to be out of the limelight for a moment. A smile curls my lips as she pulls the door open and comes face to face with Kendrick.

She jumps back, then glances at me as though we’ve been caught doing something we shouldn’t. The same automatic guilt you feel whenever you see a cop on the highway, even when you’re doing the speed limit in a perfectly legal car.

He nods politely, and his eyes never leave Ophelia’s face as he says. “Ophelia. Glad to see you’re settling in well.”

Deadpan as if they’re at a tea party. I’ve never played poker with Kendrick before, and I suspect his poker face will be absolutely impenetrable.

“Th-Thank you, sir. I’ll show you to your seat,” she manages and leads him to the last remaining chair. We all welcome Kendrick, and he maintains the same calm expression as I explain the drinks ordering method. Not a flicker of amusement or desire.

He presses the buzzer once and politely orders a whiskey on the rocks. I stare. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s never once drunk whiskey in any form other than straight. Exactly two seconds later, he presses the button again. “My apologies, Ophelia. I meant to order it straight.”

She squeaks out, “Of course, sir,” and he catches my eye. For one single second, his lip twitches up into a smile, then he’s straight back to his usual serious self. Maybe, just maybe, he might be human after all.

We settle into the serious business of poker. As the night progresses, I gradually turn up the timer on Ophelia’s buzzer. First three seconds. Then four. Her movements become increasingly jerky, and she gasps every time it’s pressed. She spills a drink on the table, and her hands shake as she cleans it up.

As we approach the end of the night, I change the setting to one minute.

She’s kneeling at my feet when Thomas presses the button. “Another martini please.”

“Yes, si–” She cuts off, staring up at me. I smile and watch her eyes widen as the vibrations don’t stop.

“Thomas asked for a drink, pet,” I prompt. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

“But I— It–” All eyes watch her as she presses her hands to the floor and bites her lip as the orgasm hits. She doesn’t quite manage to hold back her moan, and it rings out loud in the silent room. I wait until it passes before tapping her shoulder and speaking in my sternest voice.

“Drink. Now.”

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