“No,” she whimpers, struggling against me.
I end up lowering her to her knees, attaching the leather cuffs to the collar, and wrapping one arm around her throat to keep her still. She keeps jerking her head from side to side, but it only takes two attempts before I have the attachment in place and buckled to the harness at her forehead.
By the time I’m done and help her to her feet, she’s weeping and sniffling. I damn near want to keep her to myself and take her through another round of humiliation and ass-fucking. But I don’t want to risk losing control—not for me or for her. And even though my cock still hasn’t fully settled, I feel sated, for once, and I want to show Dad my appreciation.
He’s going to love this. He thinks I don’t see it, but Jenna is affecting him the same way she’s affecting me, and he’s holding back too. I know just how depraved he is. I’ve seen it in his eyes, that wild look—the urge to hurt—warring with his decency whenever I paraded one of my women in front of him, and I’ve seen the faint shadow of letters scribbled across the forehead of the few women he has brought home the last couple of years.Slut.He thinks I didn’t notice—that he’s discreet—but I’ve inherited his acute observation. And I know exactly how he feels when holding back with Jenna drives him mad. So to reciprocate the favor, I’ll make sure he, too, gets what he needs tonight. He won’t be able to hold back when he sees Jenna like this.
I detach her hands from the collar, not wanting her to fall on her way down the stairs, but leave the padlock hanging on the collar with the key in it, knowing Dad might need it.
“Please, please, please, get this thing off,” she begs, scratching at the straps.
Ignoring her desperate pleas, I grab her by the arm and lead her toward the door.
“I can’t go downstairs like this,” she keeps pleading.
Stopping by the door, I study her for a moment, wondering if this will push her too far. But then I remember Dad’s eerie ability to manipulate. No, he’ll take her just where she needs to be, even unable to hold back when he sees her like this. So I grab Jenna by the arm and steer her out of the room.
I never did care much about gifts and favors, but giving Dad this gift is something else, and I’m buzzing with excitement as I find him waiting for her downstairs.
No matter how much his protectiveness presses to make him hold back, there’s no way he’ll be able to resist this. I just know it.
37
The Offering
Ian
I’m in the entryway, waiting, when I finally hear a door open upstairs and Killian and Jenna come out on the landing. I’ve been in the living room since I sent Jenna upstairs, listening, worrying, and preparing to go receive her the moment they were done.
Judging from the sounds I’ve heard, it seems like everything has gone well. I must say I was more than a little worried Killian would lose control and cross a line, so I was relieved when I didn’t hear any screams or cries the first hour.
But now, I’m hearing sniffling and quiet whimpers. No, not just whimpers. Muffled sobs, I realize when I catch a glimpse of Jenna on the landing and see her burrowing her head in her hands.
What the hell is going on?I’m almost about to rush up the stairs but remain in place, not wanting to startle her.She’ll be here in a minute, I remind myself.
“Look where you’re going,” Killian demands in a harsh tone that only seems to aggravate her sobs. “One hand on the rail.”
The curving stairs block half my view, but I think he’s placing her hand on the railing.
Jenna starts descending, one wobbled step at a time, and her sobs only get worse as she approaches me, her free hand splaying over her face to hide.
“Jenna, I’m right here,” I tell her in a calm tone. “I’ll take care of you.”
“No,” she whimpers with utter despair. I’m more than a little relieved that I decided to come out here and wait for her, or she’d probably run off and draw in on herself like the first time.
My jaw hardens when I glance up at Killian, who’s standing at the top of the stairs, arms folded over his chest, stance wide. I want to demand to know what the hell he’s done, but now’s not the time. All that matters right now is Jenna.
“Come here, sweetheart,” I beckon once she’s within reach, but she tries to pull away, already drawing in on herself, hand plastered to her face. “There’s no need to hide,” I tell her. “I’ve already seen you cry many times. You know I don’t mind. On the contrary.”
Even though I’m both worried and prematurely mad at Killian for whatever he’s done, there’s a buzzing sensation inside me that has my cock stirring. I not only love the intimacy of taking care of her; her crying turns me on as well.
“No,” she repeats, coming to a halt on the third last step and releasing the rail to cover her face with both hands.
It’s only then that I notice the straps around her head. A face harness. Suspicion and anticipation stir inside me. I grab her and pull her off the stairs, holding her waist tight as she falls forward, into my arms. The moment I have her steady on her feet in front of me, I grab her hands and peel them off her face, gripping them tight as she tries to slam them back.
My eyes widen, my nostrils flaring, when I see her face. The harness. And a nose hook.
I glance up at Killian.
