Page 94 of Savage Desires

"What are you going to do with that, rabynya?"

"I'm going to show you what it means to be a rabynya, Oleg."

"Do your worst. I'm no slave," he spits.

"See, that's where you're wrong. You're here against your will. You are chained up. You have no option to say no. I can do whatever the fuck I want to you, and all you can do is take what I give you. You were so very giving with me, Oleg. It's only fair that I pay you the same courtesy."

I feel Kisten's eyes on me. He's quietly moved to the side but is still out of Oleg's line of sight. He's looking at me with concern. I love him so damn much for worrying about me. It's unnecessary in this case. I know I can do this and still sleep at night with zero guilt. Oleg is evil and has earned everything he's about to get.

Before Oleg can respond, I open the clamp and hold it over his dick, which isn't as hard as it was a moment ago. Apparently, being a slave isn't so appealing when you're the one on the other side. I stare him in the eye as I release the clamp at the base of his dick. I relish the flash of pain in his eyes, and his screams are music to my ears. I wait patiently for him to stop shrieking.

"You like that, rabynya? You scream like a slut when I play with your dick. Such a good little shlyukha. Tell me how much you want it."

His eyes are glazed with pain as I repeat the exact words he said to me all the times he raped me. I grip the clamp and release the pressure slightly. Oleg mistakenly thinks I'm going to remove it because he takes a shuddering breath of relief. He's about to be very disappointed. I twist my wrist, making the teeth of the clamp rotate around his dick before letting it snap back in place.

This time, when his screams die down, he's crying and blubbering. If torturing a man for information was a competition, I'm pretty sure I won tonight's round.

"Who do you work for?" I ask.

"Yuri Ivanov," he answers without hesitation. Yep, definitely the winner of the information-gathering contest.

"Why are you important to Yuri?"

He looks momentarily surprised by my question but answers when my hand twitches towards the clamp. "He's my uncle."

I look at Kisten to gauge if I'm on the right track, and he nods in approval.

"Who tipped you off about us raiding Mecca and the mansion?"

"That Irish bastard. Didn't even have the fucking balls to show up. Irish trash."

I laugh. "He was a little indisposed. Does Seamus know what Nolan was up to?"

"No," he says quickly, making me question his truthfulness.

I tap on the clamp with my finger, making it bounce a little, and Oleg whimpers. "I would hate to think you might be dishonest with your answers."

"Seamus would never. He hates Yuri. Bad blood."

"Thank you. See how nice it is when you answer clearly?"

He nods rapidly, making me giggle. I'm pretty sure everyone in the room thinks I've come unhinged. Well, maybe not Hera. She's probably giddy with excitement at my technique.

I continue asking the same questions Hera and Kisten asked. Oleg is a lot more knowledgeable. I've exhausted all but one of my questions, only having to tap on the clamp a few times to get my answers.

"Is there anyone else working with Yuri?"

He's quick to shake his head and say no. I can tell by the shifty look in his eyes he's lying. I grab the clamp and turn it without loosening it. I wrinkle my nose as his skin tears where the teeth are digging into his flesh. Oleg is crying out from pain, but his voice is hoarse from his previous screams.

"Try that again, Oleg. Don't fucking lie to me."

"Fuck! Okay, okay! Yuri made a deal with the Italians."

I frown. "Yuri made deals with both the Irish and the Italians?"

"The sons. Nolan Byrne and Damon Savada. They plan to double-cross their fathers and steal their thrones."

Kisten steps up beside me, making Oleg flinch. "Why would Yuri do that?"