Page 51 of Pas de Trois
“I will submit to you, but don’t you dare think for a second that I’m yours. I’m hers. I belong to Anya, and she is the only reason I’ll obey you.”
Renata huffs and pulls something from the pocket of her sleek black pants. She shows me a small black rectangle in her hand—something that looks like a tiny remote. She lifts an eyebrow and it tugs the corner of her mouth up into a wicked smirk. I watch her thumb press down on the remote and a lightning bolt strikes through the side of my neck. The shock of it makes me seize, every muscle in my body jerking to a rigid stop at the jolt of it for just a moment before the pain stops.
She put a shock collar on me.
My hands shoot up to grip the leather, fingers scrambling to find the latch, and just as I do, another shock seizes my system. This one goes on for beat after beat before the searing pain stops.
I drop to my knees, and though it takes moments for my mind to shift back into focus, my fingers start moving again automatically, searching for the latch that will free me. But my hands are shaking and my fingers tremble as they clamber against the leather.
“Take this off me!”
“Be a good boy and I will help you. Come here,” she says in such a deceptively cool way that I fully regret that I didn’t just knock her on her ass when I had the chance.
Despite myself, I scoot on my knees to get to her because I need this off.
She looks down at me, pride on her face stolen from me. “Hold still.”
She circles around behind me, dragging her hand from my shoulder, across my upper back until she reaches the latch at the base of my neck. I feel her pull on it, doing something I can’t see, and in moments, I hear something metal click. My hands jump to touch it and I freeze. My fingers recognize the shape of a padlock at the back of my neck. It’s hooked through the latch and locked in place.
The collar is padlocked around my neck.
A frenzy takes over and I’m desperate to get this thing off me. I pull and twist at the leather, somehow managing to spin it sideways, but it makes no difference. It’s on and it’s not coming off.
“You bitch!”
Her fingers slide into my hair, dig in, and grip the strands. She yanks my head back hard, stretching my throat until I’m looking up at her above me.
“You will call me Signora Vittori.”
“Bitch,”I insist and hate the way the word sounds coming out of my mouth—it feels wrong to be so rude and disrespectful to a woman, but this one has earned it.
She clicks her tongue. “Ah-ah-ah. Think of Anya and try again.”
She pulls my head back a little farther and bends down over me, running her tongue across my throat. I jerk sideways, yanking free from her hold. She circles around in front of me, crossing one arm over her torso, the other dangling the remote in her fingers.
She speaks slowly, as if I’m fucking stupid. “Signora. Vittori.”
I breathe heavy through my nose, nostrils flaring in fury. “Signora Vittori,” I repeat.
She bends again, touching her nose to mine. “Good boy. Now take off your clothes.” She steps away, moving to occupy the armchair in front of me, crossing one long leg over the other.
My jaw sets, my teeth grinding together. My fists clench at my sides and I feel as rigid as a stone statue. At this point, I shouldn’t be shocked by that command. I shouldn’t be shocked by anything at all, really. But having the foresight to guess how she wants to use me fills me with an uncomfortable kind of anger I’ve never felt before. It’s a rage that I have to control to keep my girl safe, a rage I’ve felt before, but it’s still....different.
I feel like I’m no longer human. And to Renata, I’m not. I’m a physical object for her to control and use for her own purposes, and it makes my blood burn.
She lifts the small black remote, twisting it in her hand to remind me of what she will do when I don’t obey. “Take off your clothes. I won’t tell you again.”
My lips pull back from the tension I hold in my face and I snarl. I feel nauseous. My fingers shake as I start to undo the buttons of my shirt. The way Renata ogles me as I do makes me feel small.
If my worth weren’t already determined by the measure of Anya’s love for me, Renata could make me feel like the most worthless piece of shit that ever existed. But I remind myself that I’m everything to Anya, so I’ll be worthless to Renata if I have to be. I pull off my shirt and toss it aside as Renata drinks me in with her eyes.
“Kiss my feet,” she says, running her tongue along her bottom lip.
“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” My eyes would literally roll out of my head if they weren’t attached in there.
I can practically hear Anya in my head. “Be quiet and do as you’re told, mal’chik.” And I should have listened to that voice before my response because Renata sends a jolt of electricity through my neck. It goes on for longer this time, my muscles seizing, tightening beyond my control with the sharp pain of the shock burning my neck.
I immediately slump forward to the floor once the electricity finally stops. Luckily, I’m able to catch myself on my hands rather than face plant in front of her feet.
