Page 158 of To Catch a Sub

“You didn’t let them fuck you, because you knew who this belonged to, but you did let them touch your breasts.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered through a tight throat.

Damien sat up, his hand now tracing the line of the cut he’d made on her side. There were band aids still covering a few spots—replacing them had been part of one of her and Landon’s many aftercare sessions. Damien slowly pulled them off, inspecting every inch of the wound. She had a terrible vision of his tracing the line with his knife, cutting through tender, freshly healed flesh. Cutting deeper to ensure it left a scar that would never heal.

“You broke the pretty jewelry.”

You broke it when you cut it off me, you psychopath.

“It can be repaired,” she said, trying to find the lecturing tone he’d so liked before. “High quality pearls aren’t just strung together, they’re knotted between each pearl. That piece had the same technique used. It will have to be taken apart, each knot cut, but it can be restrung. And if you want it stronger, a thin flexible wire instead of string might be better.”

Damien squeezed the inside of her thigh. “Do you see?” he said to the other men. “She’s brilliant.”

“Worthy of you,” the English-speaker said.

“Yes.” Damien rose to his knees on the bed, looking down at her breasts. His smiled switched to a frown and he grabbed her nipple, twisting viciously.

She screamed, in surprise as much as pain. He’d bitten almost every inch of her breasts except her nipples.

“Sensitive,” the other man said.

Colette looked over. He had a wide face with cruel eyes, a gold chain necklace, and a pronounced bald patch that made him look like a tonsured monk.

Tonsure smiled at her, his gaze sliding down to her exposed sex. Her leg muscles trembled with the desire to close her thighs, but she forced them to stay spread.

Damien drew her attention back to him when he traced her lower lip with one finger. “My wife…Have you heard of permanent jewelry?”

THIRTY-FIVE

Colette’s eyes widened before she got her expression under control.

“I have,” she said slowly. “Usually they’re thin gold chain bracelets micro-welded, rather than clasped, closed.”

“Yes, he showed me.” Damien motioned to Tonsure. “And I knew I wanted them for you. No more ugly cuffs or heavy chains. Especially here, on these.” He walked his fingers down her leg to her ankle, stroking it creepily. Damien was still petting her ankle as he said, “Get your tools.”

Tonsure didn’t even have to leave the room. He rounded the corner towards the door, but the item he needed must have been waiting inside the room, because she didn’t hear the door and he was back a second later, carrying what looked like a large tackle or tool box.

Damien unlocked her cuffs from the bed, again offering her his hand. It was harder to put her fingers in his this time, especially as moving made both her breasts throb just enough to remind her of the abuse.

He led her over to one of the two chairs in the small seating area near the windows. She ached to peek behind the curtains and see if it was day or night. Maybe get a sense of where she was.

Instead she sat where she was told, and when Damien lifted her leg onto a small table, her ankle extended off the far side, she didn’t fight or resist, only looked away.

Tonsure’s case looked like a bloated version of a jeweler’s toolbox, except he also carried a dozen spools of different style heavy gold chain.

The ones Damien selected as her permanent jewelry weren’t the delicate, feminine options she’d seen being offered as permanent jewelry in boutiques in New York, Paris, and Madrid. They were thick rope, box, mariner, and wheat style chain, each at least two centimeters thick.

Damien held her leg still as Tonsure welded the newly-cut anklets around her limb. She could see the bright flashes of the small welding iron through her closed eyelids as he zapped each thick jump ring, melting the metal closed.

“This one needs to be bigger,” Damien said. “I want it strong. So I can use it.”

Morbidly curious, she opened her eyes to see Tonsure fitting two large metal rings through the ends of a particularly hideous snake chain. They were too large to be considered jump rings, each of these larger ones about the diameter of a golf ball. He had to use pliers and a good amount of force to bring the ends of the ring in line so he could weld it. When that was done, he added a second ring through the same anklet, first welding it closed, then he welded the two rings to one another.

Now she wore a permanent gold chain cuff with a large O-ring. Perfect for restraining her.

When they were done, her left ankle was weighed down by half a dozen chains, plus the cuff.

Damien was grinning with delight as he switched her legs, placing the bare right one on the table.