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)
Shock waves.
Firey flames.
Punches and kicks and excruciating pain.
I groaned and fell to the side, twitching as vicious currents tore through me.
Henri managed to stay in his role of uncaring bastard, watching me convulse by his feet.
“Do you intend to kill her before I fuck her, Victor?” His voice was icy with boredom. “Because I was just discussing Roland’s particular tastes with Charles and we both agreed half-dead isn’t our preference. I like them warm, wet, and living.”
“He certainly made her wet.” Charles laughed, his chuckle cutting through the ricocheting agony in my veins. “Look at the damp patch on his pants.”
Victor glanced at the glistening stain I’d left on Henri’s trousers. He laughed. “You know what, my friends? I like them warm, wet, and living too.” He stopped electrocuting me, then slipped his hands into his pockets.
I gasped.
I twitched.
I hated.
“She’s all yours, Ward. All charged up and ready for a good ride. Enjoy yourself.”
Whistling under his breath, Victor strolled away.
Sucking in stinging, sticky air, I forced myself to shift back onto my knees.
Aftershocks burned through me like hellfire.
My heart couldn’t remember how to beat correctly.
God, I hurt.
Everywhere.
“Here. Use this.” Charles tossed Henri a leash. “Make her crawl to the stage. You’ve fed her like your pet; now make her move like one.”
Henri snatched it out of the air. He stared at it for a moment.
His jaw locked. He shook his head infinitesimally.
Then he bent down, pressed his fingertip briefly to my shoulder to see if he’d get a shock before snapping the leash to my despicable collar.
He tugged on the leather binding us. “Come, little nightmare. They want a show? We’ll give them a goddamn show.”
Chapter Twenty-One
………………………….
Henri
I EXISTED IN HELL WITH a motherfucking temptress.
The wet patch on my trousers stuck to my thigh with every step.
My insides were in knots.
I could barely breathe.
Glancing at Ily as she crawled like a haughty cat beside me, I wanted to crack open her skull and ransack through her thoughts.
What had she been thinking?
Writhing on my hand like that?
Moaning in my ear like that?
Begging me to finger her deeper, harder…asking me to make her come.
Christ.
I swallowed hard.
She shouldn’t affect me this badly.
Shouldn’t scramble my logic and turn me suicidal with lust.
It’d taken every strength not to stab my fork into Victor’s smug face and toss her over the table. He wanted me to stick my dick inside her? Well, he wasn’t the only one. He wanted me to snap? Fuck, I would give anything to give in.
I could already feel her around me.
Feel her coming all over my cock as I drove deep, deep inside her.
I’d been so close.
So, so fucking close to opening my fly and shifting her on my lap. Of commanding her to sink over my length and take it.
If it hadn’t been for her tears—
Goddammit.
Had she cried because she’d been faking her desire?
Maybe every allegiance she’d given me was false, and she played me as cleverly as she played everyone else?
Every feeling I had for her. Every hope I entertained. Every emotion she dragged out of me could be the worst kind of fantasy.
Why the hell did I think a girl I’d trapped and trafficked could ever be on my side? Why did I even think she’d trust me…like me?
Like me?
Fuck, Ri.
What an idiotic thing to believe.
She didn’t like me.
She was using me.
To keep her safe.
To keep her away from everyone else.
Her little stunt had nothing to do with what existed between us and everything to do with our performance.
I rubbed my fingers together, cursing the powder of her dried arousal.
If she pretended so expertly, why was she drenched?
My heart wrenched in my chest.
Because of him. Peter.
The jewel she seemed to share a bond with. The way she’d sucked in that delicate little gasp when he appeared on stage. The way she squirmed on the floor as he fucked a fellow slave.
She can’t stand you.
She hates you.
And for good fucking reason.
I yanked on the leash binding her to me. “Faster.”
The sooner we got this over with, the sooner I could send Q the coordinates so I could get the hell away from her.
Her hands and knees shuffled over the deck, her white negligee hanging low and revealing swinging breasts.
Jesus Christ, it wasn’t fair.
For the thousandth time, I wanted to scream at the sky ‘Why her?’
Why was she different?
Why did she have the power to make my cock weep with a single look or drive me into insanity with a single gasp?
Every moment I spent in her company, my soul tore down the middle. The hero inside me wanted to do absolutely everything he could to deserve and protect her. But the villain? Fuck, he wanted to break her, ruin her, and keep her chained in the very same hell she’d forced me to rule.
The closer we got to the stage, the more my heart forgot how to beat.