The Flesh Cartel #3: Choices

and Nikolai calmly danced out of his way, grinning a fucking awful grin as Mat hit the floor chin first, screaming as his ankle broke in the hard grasp of the shackle. Everything else hurt so goddamn much he barely noticed.
“I had planned to have a civilized conversation with you,” Nikolai said, stepping in close again and mashing Mat’s right hand against the floor beneath the heel of his dress shoe. Mat screamed again, too exhausted to hold it back, too exhausted to fight anymore. He’d had one chance, and he’d blown it. Now he couldn’t even get up, could barely think around the pain in his hand and his ankle and his fucking everywhere . Just wanted to curl up and cry. Die. Whichever.
The pressure left his hand as Nikolai paced to the bed, prodded at Mat’s ankle. “Be glad it’s not broken,” he said, and how was that possible when every touch and jostle was so fucking excruciating? “I don’t take kindly to my property being damaged.”
“I . . . am not . . . your property.” His hands, pressed flat to the floor, curled into fists. “And neither is my brother. You don’t . . . you don’t even have him, do you? Fucker. You’ve got nothing on me.” Nothing but pain, and I can beat that. I always have.
Nikolai squatted down beside him, pressed a hard hand to the back of his neck. “That’s a good lie to tell yourself. When I sell you, your master will love to hear you rage against him so, deny his ownership of you. It might even save you pain. But you must never believe it. Accept your fate, or it will destroy you.”
Nikolai lifted his hand, wiped Mat’s sweat off his palm with the pocket square from his suit jacket, and pulled his cell phone from a clip on his belt. A few touches and swipes later, and the phone was in Mat’s face.
It took him a moment to process what he was seeing. Everything hurt too much, and he was sprawled naked on the fucking floor of a madman’s home, one leg dangling by a shackle, trying to fight through a haze of exhaustion and agony and far too much accumulated panic.
Dougie. Nikolai was showing him Dougie.
No.
“Oh yes,” Nikolai replied.
He looked dead . Lying still and naked and pale in a fancy bed like some kind of . . . some kind of doll to be hugged and squeezed and treasured.
And played with. Raped.
“You didn’t . . .” Mat gasped. Could barely speak; he’d screamed himself hoarse ten times over since he’d gotten here, and fear seized his throat besides. “. . . poison him?” He reached out with a shaking hand, curled desperate fingers around Nikolai’s forearm. The broken glass shifted in his joints, but he didn’t squeeze. Can’t hurt him can’t hurt him he has Dougie can’t hurt him . . .
“No, he’s just exhausted, the poor thing. And suffering a bout of dehydration. I’m seeing him well cared for.”
The fuck you are. He gagged.
“Oh! Oh, you think that’s innuendo. Well, no. I haven’t known him in the biblical sense. But I will. Unlike you, he’ll love it. Well, learn to love it.” He shrugged. “He’ll learn a great many things from me by the time I’m through with him.”
Mat fought with everything in him to quash the urge to hurt this fucker. The drug must finally have been wearing off; the pain didn’t seem any less, but he was starting to think clearer, so it must’ve been.
“And to be clear, if anything does happen to me while you and I are alone, I’ve left explicit instructions for what should happen to Douglas. I’m sure the guards will be more than happy to carry out my demands, don’t you agree?” A musing pause, and then, “I hear fucking a mouth with no teeth is an exquisite pleasure.”
The image of that swallowed up everything else. “No. Please.”
Nikolai’s hand fisted his hair, yanking Mat’s head until they were eye to eye. “Then never attempt to harm me again.” He dropped Mat’s head, wiped his hand on the pocket square again. Settled on his knees beside Mat and unzipped his pants. Pulled his soft cock out through the gap. “Why don’t you show me how sorry you are. This is a skill you and I will need to spend much time developing, anyway.”
Mat forced his teeth to unclench and waited for Nikolai to fuck his throat. But he didn’t. Didn’t even close the gap between them. Just sat there, waiting, cock as flaccid and uninterested in the proceedings as Nikolai seemed to be.
“I’m not those animals at the auction house,” Nikolai said. “I won’t ever force you. You must