Page 27 of Desperate Measures
“She’s beautiful when she sucks cock, too.” A small smile pulls at the edges of his lips. “And with a whip in her hands. Meg has many facets.”
He speaks with a kind of knowledge that suggests they have some sort of history. He’s had sex with her, has had his cock in her mouth.
Jealousy spikes, joining the lust and confusion making me woozy. “You’ve fucked her.”
Jafar studies me long enough that I have to fight the urge to squirm. “Yes, I’ve fucked her.” He leans down until his lips brush my ear. “And now she wants to fuck you. Meg has a thing for games. If I give her permission, she’d tie you up and lick that pretty pussy until you’re begging her to let you come. And she won’t do it. She’ll take you to the edge over and over again, until your pleasure is just as sharp as any pain.” His fingers skate down my hips to the tops of the slits on either side of my dress, until he grips my thighs. “I’ll watch, and when you’re at the breaking point, she’ll untie you and you’ll crawl to me. If you ask very, very nicely, I’ll fuck you while Meg licks that sensitive little clit of yours. A reward for being a good girl.”?3
“I…”
He dips his hands down farther, his thumbs dangerously close to my pussy. “You’re wet, baby girl. Do you know why?”
Is there a correct answer to his question? I have no idea. “No?”
“Because you want what I just described. You think you shouldn’t, but you do.” He returns his hands to my hips, and I can’t stop the protesting sound that flutters in my throat. Jafar raises a single eyebrow. “Not tonight. I’m not in the mood to share you yet. But when I am?” Another of those shrugs that mean everything and nothing. “Maybe I’ll let Meg have her fun. Or maybe I’ll order you to suck Hook’s dick while I fuck you. The options are endless, baby girl. Fucking endless.” He pushes slowly to his feet. “Trust me to take care of you. It’s as simple as that.”
As simple as that.
I might laugh if I could find the breath to inhale. Every experience I’ve had with Jafar has proven time and time again that I can’t trust him. Not true trust. Do I believe he’ll hurt my body in a way I don’t want? No. I crave his touch, and I crave the power games we play out.
But trust him with my heart? My soul?
I’d have to be the biggest fool in the universe to hand those parts over to him. To hand anything to him that I don’t absolutely have to. I have so little power in this world. If holding back means I maintain a little of it?
I can’t afford to do anything else.
9
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.
