Page 50 of His Toy

“Please do.”

Well, that was one question answered. It would be hard for the Moon to intercept messages between the various Earth factions if all real information was done face to face. No electronic traces, no opportunity to hack into a line—they’d have to have a spy in place.

Maybe she could be that spy.

Unfortunately, it quickly became obvious the Wolf and Cora wouldn’t be doing any real business right now. This was a kind of opening ceremony; a chance to reacquaint themselves.

Bella learned the huge black man was named Trace and he was Cora’s right-hand man. Whatever was going down between the Wolf and Cora, it had to do with weapons. And Cora was the one with access to them—another fact that fascinated. What did the Wolf have that Cora wanted? Something was being traded, but they never specified exactly what. All Bella could gather was that it was cartons of something mysterious.

Then the conversation took a much more disturbing turn.

“So what happened to Slave?” Cora asked—although from the lack of true query in her voice, it was obvious she knew the answer. The question was just a segue into a conversation about Bella and Alex. Bella peeked up to find Cora was looking over Alex, while Trace’s focus was still on Bella.

A shiver went down her spine as the Wolf’s hand landed on top of her head to stroke her hair. Her fists clenched.

“It was time for her to go home,” he said conversationally. “This is Pet and Toy.” His hand gripped Bella’s hair to force her to look up as he said his nickname for her. She couldn’t see what Alex’s reaction was, but he must have done something. “Toy’s still learning how to be good.”

Cora’s hazel eyes seemed to glow as she looked Alex’s kneeling form up and down. “So I see. Do you think you might be willing to share?”

Bella’s muscles tensed. The expectation on Cora’s and her man’s faces said they already knew the answer. The hot, hungry look in the huge man’s eyes as they traveled over Bella’s body made her want to cower against the Wolf and beg him to say no. Not that it would make any difference, but there was something even more frightening about Trace and Cora than there was about the Wolf. Maybe because Bella had at least heard of the Wolf before, and now she had a small idea of what to expect from him, whereas these two were complete unknowns.

“What’s your pleasure?” the Wolf asked easily.

Cora’s eyes were still on Alex. “I think I’d like to play with your Toy.”

Not unexpectedly, there was movement on the other side of the Wolf, though Bella couldn’t see what. Cora just smiled, the way a viper might before it struck.

Behind Cora, Trace frowned and leaned down to whisper in her ear. The woman’s eyes flitted over to Bella. Cora looked back to Trace and shook her head. “Next time, perhaps, darling.” She stood and smiled at Alex, her face alight with anticipation.

“Just remember Cora, if you break your toys, you don’t get new ones to play with,” the Wolf said.

Her small, pink tongue flicked out against her lower lip in anticipation as her eyes returned to Alex. “Understood.”

Fear for Alex, jealousy, and possessiveness all washed through Bella in a tumble of conflicting emotions, even as her anxiety for herself leapt higher when the Wolf stood, his fingers tangling in her hair. Soldiers already pulled Alex away toward the center of the room as those standing and sitting there cleared a place.

An all-too-familiar grinding noise made Bella whimper. The platform rose in the center of the room, and the soldiers pulled Alex toward it. Bella turned her head, and her scalp pulled where the Wolf’s fingers were, but she had to watch. He wasn’t exactly fighting, but Alex was definitely resisting being pulled down there.

Beside her, the Wolf’s chair shifted, and he sat down again, this time facing the platform that had risen in the middle of the floor. She didn’t fight as he pulled her onto his lap and cupped one of her breasts while his other hand stroked her thigh. They both watched as Cora directed the soldiers who held the resisting Alex.

* * *

The cuffs snapped shut around his wrists and ankles, holding him spread-eagle and standing upright in the center of a large, wooden frame. The chains that connected the cuffs to the frame had barely any give and forced his body into a largex-shape, with no room to maneuver.

The combined groups of soldiers settled back for the show as Cora paced slowly around him. Under other circumstances, he might have found her an attractive-enough woman. Right now, he battled his own anger and frustration at his situation, and his worry over Bella, who’d been left up on the dais with the Wolf and Cora’s right-hand man.

“Aren’t you a pretty one?” Cora murmured, stepping closer to draw one of her nails down the center of Alex’s chest, hard enough to leave a red mark but not so hard as to break skin. Alex kept his face impassive and stared down at her. She smiled up at him, tracing her nail over to his nipple and lightly circling it with her finger. “And so fierce. Trace wanted to play with the pretty Pet, you know. She seemed so sweet… so submissive… but I wanted something a little more entertaining today.”

Her other hand gripped his balls and squeezed, hard enough that he gasped as sweat broke out on his forehead. The pressure was painful and unexpected, and, if he hadn’t been cuffed to the frame, his knees might have buckled. Cora stared up at him, watching his expression, and held on for a few moments before releasing him. When she did, he dragged in a much-needed deep breath of air, his lungs loosening along with her hold, and Alex sagged against the cuffs.

Fuck.

“Poor Moon Boy…” she murmured, rubbing her hand over his chest in a soothing manner as he caught his breath. His balls were still cupped in her hand, cradled now. “No one ever teaches you how to deal with anything, much less pain.”

Her fingers closed again, like a vise, and this time Alex couldn’t help his half-strangled cry as his head fell back, his body trying to arch toward her and pull away at the same time, confused as to which would relieve the painful pressure on his sack. The crushing grip made him nauseous with how much it hurt.

This time, when she released, he opened his eyes to find her studying his expression, which he did his best to keep blank. She would still see the remnants of pain in the tightness of his jaw and the wrinkles on his brow he couldn’t quite ease. Cora peered up at him with interest, her lips slightly parted, and leaning in toward him so her breasts brushed his chest. Her fingers cradled his balls again, gently massaging as if to make up for the pain she’d just put him through.

“If I let you go, would you fight me?” she asked, her voice husky with arousal.

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