Page 21 of Owning Nicci

“Come with me,” he says abruptly, opening the door. “It’s time for a different kind of lesson,principessa.”

My stomach tightens, and I feel myself balk. But I know better than to refuse, to even hesitate long enough for him to think that I really might be defying him.

I’ve been waiting for this. For three weeks, I’ve felt that tension build, and wondered why he didn’t touch me, when he could do so whenever he wanted. Now, as his gaze slides over me as I stand up, that same tension snaps taut between us, with the addition of an odd formality that I don’t entirely understand.

He steps out into the hall, and I follow him. He leads me down to the other door, and I have the sudden thought that in a very short amount of time, my life has narrowed down to this—to following the man who keeps me captive through a series of doors, one after another. To the firing range, to the workout room, to my bedroom, and repeating it all over again, until now…

To his bedroom.

That must be what the room we step into is. It exudes masculinity—from the bed situated in the center of a low platform frame to the dark, angular furniture and the dark green walls hung with modern art. The open door on the right side that I can see leads into a dark-tiled bathroom. The back wall of the room is wood paneling, and I notice that this room doesn’t have the view that mine does. Surprising that the guest room would have such a stunning view of the city while the master bedroom doesn’t, but it gives it an insular, cave-like feel, especially with the dark decor, that I can see being comforting in a way.

Is that what this room is to him? A haven? And if so, from what?

I swallow hard, unsure as to why he brought me in here. The answer seems obvious, and yet, considering the formal, tense distance he’s put between us, I’m surprised he would bring me to his bedroom, to this haven-like space, for sex. Why not in my room, my comfortable cell, where he can keep that wall up between us, rather than bringing me into his most private space?

And then, I watch in fascination as he presses his hand to a panel in the wall next to his bed, where a hidden door slides open.

Almost immediately, as Savio steps back and motions for me to walk in first, fascination turns to fear.What if this is a trap?I’ve had that thought before, that first day at the warehouse, and it wasn’t. I can’t help but wonder, though, looking into the dark space behind the opening in the wall, if the photo of the supposed Crow was just a means to lure me into feeling safe.

But what would I do about it if it was? So I walk forward, trying not to let him see me tremble, trying not to think about how vulnerable I am, and step into the darkness on the other side of the wall.

Immediately, lights click on at the movement, and I blink, my eyes adjusting. It only takes me a second to realize the purpose of the room—and why he brought me here—and my heart stutters in my chest in a fearful, anxious rhythm.

Behind me, as I look at the apparatus neatly arrayed throughout the room, the bed and the cabinets and cupboards, I hear Savio step into the room behind me, the door clicking shut.

“Outside, you call me ‘sir, ’” he says smoothly, his voice deep and rasping over my skin. “In here, it’s ‘master, ’principessa. In here, you are my pet. Do you understand me? Whatever I tell you to do, you comply, or our bargain is at an end.”

My heart is thundering in my chest. I recognize a lot of what’s in the room, though I haven’t had much up-close-and-personal experience with things like this. I’ve been to a couple ofManhattan’s sex clubs with friends before, years ago, although I didn’t participate. I just watched, sipping a drink, feeling my skin get flushed and tight watching the other couples playing. I was never brave enough to try it myself, even when I knew I was aroused by the idea.

Now, it looks like that choice is going to be made for me.

Savio’s hand touches my lower back, fingertips against bare skin, and I jump, biting my lip hard to stifle a yelp. He guides me forward to something on one side of the room, next to the X-shaped cross with leather bindings hanging from it.

The apparatus that he leads me to is a tall pole bolted to the wall, with a leather collar hanging from it, and a thick mat just in front of it. Savio stops, his voice deep and authoritative as he speaks.

“Kneel,” he says smoothly. “Facing me, pet.”

I nod, swallowing hard, and I’m grateful when he doesn’t seem to expect me to speak. I sink down to my knees, grateful for the thick mat that cushions them, and I can see the ridge of his cock just in front of my eyes, straining eagerly against his fly. For all his tense formality, his body betrays his excitement, his need. It reminds me that whether Savio lets me see it or not, thereisa certain power that I have over him.

I hear a clicking behind me as he adjusts something, and a moment later, I feel the wide leather of the collar wrap around my neck. He buckles it snugly, but not too tight—tight enough that I can’t really move my head, but I’m not being choked. I’m held in place, and a moment later, Savio instructs me to put my hands behind my back before fastening them with leather cuffs.

I’m bound in place, unable to move. He could do anything he likes with me now. Fear slides through me at the thought, but I feel something else, too, in spite of myself.

A warmth blossoming out from my core, liquid desire heating between my thighs. My fingers curl against my palms,that urge to reach between my legs jolting through me, but I can’t now even if I want to. I’m fully at Savio’s mercy.

He takes a step back, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves. Each movement is precise, methodical, but I see the heat in his eyes. I see how he’s holding himself back, how his cock twitches against his fly, eager and begging to be released. He’s pretending to be fully in control, but he’s not. I can see that he’s not.

“You remember my price,” he says calmly, as he rolls his sleeves up over his muscled forearms. “Your submission, for your revenge. I’ve found one of the Crows, as I showed you, pet. Now you’ll remind me how well you can submit. If I’m pleased, we’ll continue on.”

He reaches down, undoing his belt with a flick of his fingers, tugging his zipper down. I’d thought he might undress, that I might finally see what he looks like under those ever-present Armani suits. But this is a part of the game, I think—a reminder of the power differential between us, as I kneel here naked, and he stands in front of me fully clothed, except for his bare forearms and the long, thick cock that he slides free, wrapping his fist around it as he gives himself one long, slow stroke.

“I’m going to fuck your face, pet,” he growls, his voice lowering to a thick, lustful rasp. “And you’ll take it without begging or complaining. You’ll swallow every drop of my cum, and prove to me that you’re a good girl. That you’remine. Is that understood?”

I nod, every part of me strung tight as I watch him step forward, his massive cock clenched in his fist. “Yes, master,” I whisper, and I see his length jerk against his palm, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Open your mouth,” Savio instructs. “Tongue flat.”

It’s the only movement I can make. My head is held in place, the back of it pressing against the hard metal rod behind me, and my heart pounds in my chest with nerves as I obey. I partmy lips, sliding my tongue out as I hold my mouth open for his pleasure, and I have no idea how I’m going to give him what he wants.

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