Reaching my hand out to help him up, I handed him his pants. "How do you feel?"
"Present," he answered, his voice rough. "Centered."
Smirking at him, I went to my knees, slowly and carefully placing his cock within the ring of silver and chain mail. Standing, I smiled as he stepped into his pants and slipped them over his hips. As he buttoned and zipped up, I ran a finger along the mail, and his head tipped back as a moan slipped through. “Goddess . . .”
"Good. That was the point." I pressed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Let's join the others for a while. I want to show you off."
Just before we stepped out, I slipped a half-mask back over his eyes. I held his gaze as I reached behind his head and tied it firmly.
Bringing my hands back around, I grazed my fingertips over the skin of his neck and jaw before leaning forward and giving him a whisper of a kiss. His lips pressed softly against mine,and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Such a good Pretty Boy for his Goddess.”
A small whimper came from him, and happiness filled me. Being a domme was therapeutic with my other subs, but with Gavriel, it was a need, a pleasure, something that called to me. Taking his hand, we stepped back into the main room, the ambient music washing over us. Several members nodded in my direction, some with knowing smiles. The Lounge operated on discretion, but my reputation preceded me.
"Lady E!" A woman in a crimson dress approached, air-kissing both my cheeks. "It's been ages."
"Sophia," I greeted warmly. "How's the gallery?"
"Thriving. We just acquired a new Basquiat." Her eyes drifted to Gavriel, appreciation evident. "And who isthis?"
"This is my pretty boy," I said simply, feeling him shift slightly behind me.
Sophia's eyebrow arched. "Lucky man." Then she blew me a kiss from her crimson lips and strutted off. Man, she had an ass that deserved to be worshipped.
We circulated through the room, stopping to chat with various acquaintances of mine. Gavriel remained silent at my side, the perfect shadow, observing everything while revealing nothing. I could feel the tension gradually returning, the real-world creeping back in despite our sanctuary.
When Gavriel spotted one of Don Juarez's men at a table not far from us, every muscle in his body instantly went taut. I turned to Gavriel, keeping my expression neutral while positioning my body to block his face from his view. "Don't react," I whispered. "Follow my lead." I guided us casually toward a plush velvet couch positioned within earshot of where they stood, talking to another man I didn't recognize.
I sat gracefully, patting the cushioned pillow on the floor beside me. Gavriel understood immediately, sinking to his kneesat my feet, resting his head on my knees again, looking up at me and his back to Vega. I ran my fingers through his hair possessively, the gesture both a show for anyone watching and a comfort to him.
"What about her brother?" the other man asked.
"The Owl’s Talon?" Vega laughed softly. "He's the primary target. Don Juarez has the compound prepared. Once the girl is secured there, Azzaro's son becomes expendable."
Over my dead body.
Gavriel’s hard eyes met mine as his breathing all but stopped, and if my hands hadn’t been in his hair, he likely would have had a bigger reaction. I stroked Gavriel's cheek, a signal for him to remain calm even as my own heart raced. "Easy," I whispered. "Not here."
"They can't see you," I reminded him. "Not the real you."
I kept my fingers wrapped firmly around the delicate silver chain attached to his wrists. The half-mask obscured enough of his features to provide anonymity, but I could still read every microexpression—the tightening of his jaw, the dangerous gleam in his eyes as Juarez's lieutenant continued speaking just a few feet away.
"Don Juarez wants the girl ready," the man said, swirling amber liquid in his glass.
I tightened my grip on the chain, seeing Gavriel's bare chest rise and fall with carefully controlled breaths.
"And if she's not cooperative?" asked the woman draped across the lieutenant's lap, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.
The lieutenant laughed. "Then she'll learn what happens to disobedient whores. Don Juarez has special methods for training reluctant brides."
Gavriel's entire body went rigid. I pressed my fingers harder into his shoulder, digging my nails into his skin, hoping the pain was a distraction, an anchor.
"Color?"
"Yellow," he breathed, the strain evident in his voice. "Approaching red."
I needed to redirect before he blew our cover. Standing smoothly, I tugged on his chain, pulling him to his feet. "Follow me, pet."
Leading him away from Juarez's man, I guided him through the maze of people until we were back in our private alcove. As soon as we were hidden from view, I pressed him against the wall, my body flush against his.
