Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Everyone watched us.
Everyone saw.
I thought I’d been sly with Victor. Thought I could play a part I’d always felt but never accepted. Turned out, he knew me better than myself.
All I had was her.
All I wanted was her.
And the novelty of finally finding someone who could make me feel something other than loneliness made it impossible to motherfucking breathe.
Ily didn’t say a word as I led her crawling up the short steps to the stage.
The spotlight seemed too bright.
Booze lodged like a boulder in my gut.
I was sober as a priest, despite my lack of food.
My breath came fast as I looked over the sea of tables and Masters.
The back of my neck prickled with far too many eyes.
Was this what stage fright felt like?
Would I even be able to perform?
Adjusting my hard-on, I tested my sensitivity.
I almost folded in half at the barest squeeze.
At least I’d be quick.
Ily wouldn’t have to tolerate me for long, seeing as I could barely fucking see straight with need.
Tugging on the leash to stop her, she sucked in the faintest inhale.
I thought I was the cause until I looked down and noticed what she focused on.
A translucent spot on the black fabric floor.
Cum.
It’s cum.
Peter’s cum from fucking the slave he’d been commanded to role-play with.
Was it funny that both acts tonight would be complete fabrications or just tragic?
Even in a fortress that claimed freedom beat at its very heart, all I could hear were chains.
“Flog her, mate!” someone yelled.
“Stretch her with a dildo!”
“Shred her tattoo with that whip over there. The cat-o-nine-tails cuts ’em real good!”
To Ily’s credit, she didn’t move. Not a single twitch.
I couldn’t say the same for my stomach as it leaped and somersaulted, but outwardly, I looked as cold as the dragon ice sculpture slowly melting in the corner of the gazebo.
The level of wealth Victor had. The weight of his influence.
If the dated keystone Ily had noticed when we’d first stepped inside was right, then this hellhole had been in operation for over twenty years.
Twenty fucking years these games had been going on. Slaves beaten. Jewels molested. Lives snuffed out and treated as if they were nothing more than flies.
Less than flies.
Dirt.
Sighing heavily, I resisted the urge to drag Ily through the gardens and back to my room. Instead, I dropped the leash and prowled around her.
The faster this was done, the sooner I could let her go.
Keeping her eyes down, she tensed as I circled her.
Raising my voice for the audience, I said, “If I whipped her tonight, I’d have nothing to look forward to tomorrow.”
“Always tomorrow too!” Someone snickered.
I chuckled. “True. But I have something special planned for tomorrow.”
“Tell us!”
I tapped my nose. “Secret.”
Fuck, now I’d have to come up with something. I’d have to hurt her.
Christ, Ri.
My hands shook as they strayed to my belt. I needed to get off this stage before I made our lives even worse than they already were.
As long as I could keep it together, I could rest once I’d sneaked into Victor’s office and gotten the GPS location to Q. He’d either exonerate me or kill me, and right now, I didn’t really care which.
Just a few more hours of pretend—just another moment where I had to fuck her like a beast—and then I could tuck her safely in my room where no one else could touch her.
Including me.
Balling my hands, I stalked around her one last time, resisting the urge to piss a ring of ownership around her, sinking far too deep into the animalistic tendencies within me.
Every male in this castle was a threat.
Every man was my enemy.
I’d slaughter every single one of them before they touched her. Script or no script.
Ily kept her head down, blue-black hair curtaining her face, exposing the back of her slender neck. The gleam of her golden collar did things to me I didn’t want to acknowledge.
Pressing against my hard-on, I shivered.
You can do this.
You will do this.
You will do this as gently and as quickly as you can because no matter your stupid little obsession, she doesn’t feel the same way.
She’s acting.
She’s terrified.
She deserves better.
Shoving all thoughts out of my head, I tried to remember what the audience had said.
Yanking my belt out from the loops, I raised it at the crowd. “I’ll save the whip for another night. For now, bondage will do.”
I glanced down at Ily.
She didn’t so much as twitch.
The urge to praise her commitment to our roles was overshadowed by the frustration that she didn’t react. The beast inside me grumbled with annoyance that she stayed so meek, so docile, exactly like I’d begged her to.
“Bind her so we can all have a taste,” someone shouted. “Good idea!”
Fury whipped through me.
Ily’s impressive self-control chose that moment to fracture.
Just a little.
It didn’t go unnoticed—not while I was hyper-fucking-aware of everything.