When his fingers wandered down, Reek whimpered low in his throat, shutting his eyes and pretending that the painful touch wasn’t happening. He wanted nothing more than to just curl up on the floor at the foot of the bed, the place that he’d earned for being a good pet, and block out the sound of Jeyne’s muffled crying. It was easy to ignore her when he was left alone, a silent ghost that was privy to all, but acknowledged none. It was harder when he was called onto the bed, when he had to hold her down or pleasure her with his tongue while Ramsay clawed and bit.
Those were the nights that Reek dreaded. There was no rhyme or reason to whether he would be punished or rewarded for his participation. Sometimes he would be struck, knocked off the bed, and left nursing a new injury while it shuddered and creaked above him. Other times a tender hand would slide through his hair, drawing him in and stroking his white locks, until he was quietly dismissed. It was that touch that he lived for, that made it so easy to hate Jeyne and her wet eyes that burned into him with despair.
It wasn’t fair for her to feel betrayed – they both knew that he would do anything that his master told him. That if violating her is what it took to earn that dark smile, than he would not hesitate. Not if it meant sliding his tongue between her folds and preparing her for the pain that was to come, nor if it meant keeping her from writhing so Ramsay could mark her tender skin as he pleased. They weren’t in this together and it showed in the way he refused to look at her, obediently going through the motions of everything that was ordered of him.
Was this a punishment? Reek had been certain that this was a night that he was going to pay for his actions. It wasn’t often that he got away with using his mouth on his master’s lady wife. He’d braced himself for the strike that he had been certain would come, but instead he was left trembling as rough fingers slid down into his the trousers and pressed against the ragged scar that was left behind. It was so startling that he stopped everything he was doing, blatantly disobeying his master, as he struggled with comprehending this new development.
There was a low chuckle near his ear and with a shiver Reek realized that Ramsay was close enough for his breath to warm his neck. He didn’t dare open his eyes, as if his quiet stillness would end this whim his master was playing with, but his tight grip on Jeyne’s thighs was telling. Reek had long forgotten what pleasure felt like, but pain was familiar, even if it had never come to him in this form. He gasped when the fingers descended further, away from the tender root down to what little that he had left. There they squeezed and ignited a deep ache that was more painful than any blow he could have been given.
“Did I tell you to stop, Reek?”
The voice was still so close, a whispered breath, with words that made him quiver. Anticipating the worst, Reek’s eyes snapped open as he shook his head, “No, master.” He hastened to lower his mouth once more, occupying it with the flesh spread in front of him.
He didn’t stop when his laces were loosened nor when they were pulled down his hips, leaving him exposed and displaying his shame. He wanted to drop his hands to cover himself, but there was no dignity to protect. There was nothing. The body he resided in was not his and he knew that he had no control over anything that happened to it. All that was left to do was obey. Only when Ramsay grabbed a handful of his snowy hair and jerked his head back, swiping his fingers between Jeyne’s legs to slicken them, did Reek know his task was finished and he dared to cease.
He didn’t understand what was happening, even when those fingers were then pressed to a spot that had never been touched, or when they were pushed inside. He didn’t realize that the soft whimpering filling the room was his own. That he was the one shaking as his body stretched and protested the violating digits. All he knew was that he was scared. Tears slowly welled, blurring his vision, and his gaze lifted to see Jeyne watching him with a strange look in her eyes. They were always so frightened, so broken, the few times that Reek unintentionally glimpsed them, but this time they were different. Reek stared at her and it was with a cracking realization that he understood the look she was giving him. Cold satisfaction.
He shook his head and dropped his forehead to rest against her pelvis, holding back a scream as something much larger than fingers was forced inside of him. He held onto her desperately, crying into her soft skin as his body struggled to cope with the assault. Those strong hands that he feared and craved were gripping his waist and keeping him still, but there was another touch, much softer that barely grazed his hand. As quickly as he felt it, it was withdrawn and he was left alone to endure the relentless thrusts. Even that gentle acknowledgement of his suffering was more than he could have ever asked for.
He’d said it himself – they were not in this together.