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“Stay where you are,” I say curtly, before motioning for One—who’s been waiting in the shadows all this time—to begin. A beat later, the haunting notes ofThe Promise,a piano piece by Michael Nyman begin to rise up into the air. Despite years of conditioning not tofeelany kind of emotions other than the ones that have kept me alive, I cannot prevent the hair of my arms from standing on end. Like Leon and Two, One and I have a connection that runs deeper than mere master and slave. Aside from Thirteen, she’s the only Number I have any type of relationship with. If you can call it that.
“Oh my God,” Nothing whispers, her head turning to seek out the person playing such exquisite music. There’s no denying that One is profoundly talented, her music able to capture and entrance. My father knew exactly what he was doing when he collected her. “That’s beautiful.”
Nothing’s shoulders relax, her demeanour altering as the music washes over her. I would bet my collection of curiosities that in this moment, right now, Nothing doesn’t feel any fear, lost to the music as she is. Without warning I lean over and grasp her arm, having the sudden urge to see if she reacts physically the same way as I do, and to remind her to never let down her guard. She flinches away from my touch, stiffening when my hand grips her arm tightly.
“What are you—”
“Don’t ask questions,” I snap.
Pulling up her sleeve, not only is the skin of her arm covered in goosebumps, but more freckles. A pointillistic decoration unique only to her. Earlier she thought I was staring at her perfect, untouched pussy. I wasn’t. I was staring at the rash of freckles covering her creamy thighs. They’re an abnormality, a random pigmentation of skin. To some they might be beautiful, others unattractive. I’m not sure which side of the line I sit on. Either way, they had me intrigued enough not to want my brothers to completely break her just yet, towantto taste her.
Licking my lips, I ignore the fact that her essence is still on my tongue and concentrate on using this moment to play with her head.
“Thisis why One is valuable,” I say, running my forefinger over the tiny hairs standing to attention on Nothing’s arm. She catches my eye, a note of curiosity on her face. “Men and women have come far and wide to listen to her play,” I continue. “They pay a lot of money for the privilege, for this precise reaction. Some even say listening to One play is a better high than an orgasm, and here you are enjoying her talent for free.”
Konrad scoffs. “Some of them also pay three times the amount to fuck her whilst she bends over the piano and plays them a tune. All that silky black hair, perfect olive skin and sultry Italian sex appeal means she’s one of the favourites.” He reaches for Nothing’s free hand, flipping it over so her palm faces upwards. She tries to draw her hand away, but he grasps it tightly, then presses the tip of his index finger against the sensitive skin, circling her palm. “Tell me, Zero, does her music turn you on?”
“I don’t—” she stumbles, her breath hitching.
“Does my touch make you wet?” Konrad asks. “Imagine me doing this to your clit. Have you ever had a real, earth-shattering, soul-splitting orgasm, Zero? Does One’s music make you want to come?”
Nothing’s lips part, her eyelids fluttering as she battles against her reaction to Konrad’s touch combined with One’s music and, no doubt, the lingering effects of my tongue and lips on her sweet, sweet pussy. I don’t immediately let her go either, curious to see whether she can handle both of our attention.
“What about this?” Konrad asks, leaning over to press his lips against her open palm, before tenderly kissing the pulse point in her wrist.
She shudders, her body reacting, just like he knew it would. The way her body sways towards him despite her obvious hate confirms my suspicion that until very recently she hasn’t experienced being touched by a man before, especially not those who are as skilled in the art of manipulation as we are. We use sex as a weapon, pleasure and pain are the tools in our arsenal. She’s no match for us, no matter how strong she appears to be.
“Don’t— Don’t touch me,” she objects, trying once again to withdraw her hand from his hold. This time I can’t avoid punishing her. I don’t want to. I need to make her pay for her disobedience, forwantingwhat I gave her. How fucking dare she open herself up like that! How fucking dare she give herself up so easily! She was so pure in her lust, so angry in her submission. It was a heady fucking concoction and I hate the fact I succumbed to it.
“I told you, Nothing, you do what we want, when we want it. Put your forearms on the table and bend over,” I demand. Konrad lets her hand go and grins. Leon just watches. Silent, emotionless.
“Why?”
“Always with the questions... You really don’t get it, do you?” I spit, standing abruptly and grasping the back of her neck. Leaning in close, I rest my lips against her ear. “Put your forearms on the table and bend the fuck over!”
Above us, I hear Two giggling. Nothing stiffens, her gaze lifting upwards briefly, unable to understand how anyone could find this amusing. Then with a heaving chest, she does as I demand and bends over. Her hair fans out across her back, the fiery tresses almost reaching her arse. None of the other Numbers have red hair, so I’m aware of the novelty, one that Konrad’s clearly attracted to given the way he’s fingering a lock of Nothing’s hair reverently. He’s always been drawn to fire, to heat and flames. She represents physically everything he wants in a woman.
“Do you want to do it?” I ask him, holding out the leash, giving him the responsibility.
“Fuck, yes,” he responds, taking it from me as he moves to stand behind Nothing. She’s trembling so much that the globes of her arse wobble beneath the material of her dress.
“Relax, it won’t hurt as much if you do,” I find myself saying, instantly regretting it when Konrad gives me a sharp look and Leon snorts in derision. Fuck them both, I’m doing this forthem, not her. “You might want to break Nothing, but you need her to last, at least long enough to get what we all need. Let’s not ruin her just yet.”
“Right, Brother,” Konrad says with a smirk, before crouching down behind her and sliding the dress slowly up her legs and over the mound of her arse. I swallow hard, my cock twitching, not at the sight of the chastity belt resting along her arse crack but at the spattering of freckles over the globes of her cheeks and back of her thighs. I find myself staring at them, at the way they mar her perfect skin. They look like a galaxy of stars… Stars...
Star.
A tremor wracks my body, the violence of it snapping me out of the moment.What the fuck?A past memory lingers in the back of my mind, it feels painful.Why does that word hurt so much?
“Get on with it!” I snap, not wanting to find out.
“With pleasure,” Konrad murmurs, before shifting his position and bringing the leash down against Nothing’s rounded arse with a loud thwack. She jerks forward, but she doesn’t scream.
Leon sits forward in his seat. Shifting from laid-back to interested.
“Do it again,” he demands, his voice low, gruff. I know what he’s thinking, that her lack of reaction in the library was a fluke, that she can’t be as controlled or detached from the pain as she appeared that day. Konrad flicks his gaze to me, and I nod, giving him permission, wanting to find out just as much as my brothers how much she can take.
Thwack!
