“You said there would be a contest between us,” Stafford snapped at the council. “What are the terms?”
“Stand,” Mr. Washington ordered.
Jasmine rose to her feet, each movement made graceful by effort of long practise and knowledge of the appropriate punishment sloppy movements earned. Naked, with not even a collar to show for her submission, she stood before them, long blonde hair trailing down her back in loose waves. As Hayden also rose to his full height, Jasmine extended her hands, palms up, the way she had been instructed to do.
“ Stafford, Hayden, step forward. Extend your hands. Each of you, put one hand into hers.”
Stafford ’s right hand and Hayden’s left hand were duly placed on her palms. She could tell by the way the two men stood, by the way they moved, that each believed they were undertaking the start of some sort of challenge ritual. They faced each other solemnly across her as Mr. Washington walked around them and took up his place facing her.
Jasmine knew the dominant was good at what he did. He could be quick when he wanted to be. He took one step forward. A flash of silver, a flick of his wrists and a set of handcuffs had secured two wrists together.
Hayden and Stafford ’s reactions were both a fraction too slow to do them any good. A moment after the cuffs clicked closed, the two younger men reacted, trying to pull their hands apart, to pull away from each other.
Jasmine, unable to step away from them without permission was, caught in the middle of the struggle. She braced herself for a fall as the cuffed hands, swung towards her. Her training failed her and she stepped back, all thought of permission temporarily forgotten.
As if someone tripped a switch inside them, both men reached for her the moment she moved. One hand grabbed her arm, another caught her wrist and each man pulled her towards them.
“What is the meaning of this?” Stafford demanded.
Jasmine looked up at him, thinking he spoke to her, but he stared beyond her at the council.
“If keeping you apart cannot appease the differences between you, we will keep you together. The human woman belongs to both of you for the rest of the night,” one of the council said.
“A slave?” Stafford spat. “Even the damn dogs know better than that. What the hell do you mean, putting the girl in this position?”
Jasmine turned her gaze to Hayden. He frowned. “We don’t own people,” he said. In a silly way, it felt he was saying it to her-as if her opinion was the only important one to him right then.
“If neither of you will accept charge of her, I will take her back with me, there are plenty of human men who would jump at the chance of spending the night with her,” Mr. Washington said.
He made it sound as if the prospect didn’t appeal to her-as if she hadn’t chosen this way of life of her own free will-as if she hadn’t spent the last months and years looking for a master. His tone of voice made the statement barely better than a lie, but it did the trick.
“I will take guardianship of her,” Stafford began.
“Mine,” Hayden growled at the same time.
They glared at each other.
“Very well,” Mr. Washington said. “The rules of the challenge are very simple. She is yours to do with as you please. Make whatever use you want of her-but you will stay in this room and in those cuffs until you reach an agreement, so don’t waste all your time screwing her.” His tone of voice changed to the one he only ever used when he was addressing a submissive. “They are your masters-do as they command without exception.”
“Yes, sir,” Jasmine whispered in return.
The council filed out of the room. For the first time in a long time, she felt nerves as well as desire peak inside her at the thought of the scene she was about to take part in. Not sure what else to do, Jasmine lowered her eyes and waited for an order to be issued.
For several long minutes the two men just glared at each other.
The tension in the room doubled over again and again, but in spite of all that, Jasmine felt something settle inside her. She had her orders, she knew what was expected of her. If only for one night, she belonged to someone-to two someones actually.
Finally, one of those two someones moved.
Stafford released his grip on her elbow and put his arm lightly around her shoulders. Hayden slowly let go of her wrist. He stepped to the side to let Stafford lead her to the edge of the bed, but followed them closely.
Jasmine’s training prompted her to lower herself to the floor at the side of the bed.
Stafford ’s light grip around her shoulder’s tightened. “No, on the bed,” he corrected, guiding her to sit on the edge of the mattress.
Jasmine did as he commanded, and waited for another order.
“You have nothing to be scared of,” Stafford told her. “I’ll see no harm comes to you.”
As Stafford stood in front of her, Hayden crouched down next to him. He shouldered the side of Stafford ’s leg until the other man moved slightly to the side and made room for him to face her too.
“She’s not afraid,” Hayden announced.
“And what do you know about humans?” Stafford demanded.
Hayden shrugged. “If she was afraid, she would smell afraid. She doesn’t smell afraid, so she’s not.”
He ducked his head, looking up at her, making an obvious effort to catch her eye. He was right about one thing at least. She saw no reason to be afraid of them. She’d submitted to enough men during her search for a master to be able to read the signs of cruelty or sadism in her prospective partners. These two young men, for all the stories she’d read about their respective species, were neither.
They were simply dominants-inexperienced, as was to be expected when neither of them was far past their teens, but with the potential to become great dominants, great leaders of their respective species in the years to come.
Jasmine took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves as they blossomed once more. They were just the type of men she’d had in her mind when she started down the road to find a master.
One more deep breath. Jasmine hoped like hell Hayden couldn’t scent arousal as easily as he would have smelt her fear.
“I won’t hurt you,” Stafford said again.
Hayden looked up to Stafford. “And you think I would,” he growled.
“Werewolves are still wolves, they are not a species known for their gentleness.”
“And vampires are? At least we have learnt not to bite our lovers,” Hayden snapped, jerking back to his feet and making the extended chain between their handcuffs rattle.
“Lovers? A pretty word for a species capable of nothing more than rutting like animals,” Stafford taunted. “Vampires are known for skill, subtlety, seduction when they take a lover to their beds. Werewolves are merely known for an inclination to do it doggie style.”
They were so focused on each other, Jasmine felt it was safe to look up at them. Squaring off against each other, they were glorious. Two dominant men, as different as could be, fighting over her. If she hadn’t been well aware neither of them gave a damn about her, she might have been stupid enough to feel flattered by the idea.
Hayden’s expression slowly morphed into a smile. “A man with a small cock can become a fantastic lover if he puts a lot of time and effort into acquiring a great technique, a guy with a big cock doesn’t need to know a damn thing to be bloody marvellous.”
His gaze dropped to Stafford ’s trousers. He looked particularly unimpressed.
The vampire’s eyes narrowed. They appeared to be two seconds from launching themselves at each other when Jasmine slid to her knees between them.
That at least made them pause for a few seconds. She felt their attention turn towards her.
Hayden crouched down. He stroked her hair back from her face. “Hey, it’s okay…” he stumbled for a moment when he obviously realised he didn’t know her name. “No one is mad at you. What’s your name?”