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)
Wetness from me and her.
A combined mess that I had every intention of dealing with the moment I had her safely in my room.
Bowing stiffly, I gave our audience a final farewell. “I hope you enjoyed the show. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find a dungeon.”
Men laughed. “Follow the darkness. You can’t miss it.”
“Hopefully, we’ll hear her screams from here!”
“I’ll do my best.” Grinning, I slapped her ass hard enough to leave a red handprint. “Goodnight, gentlemen.” Finding Victor in the crowd, I squinted against the bright spotlight. “That enough for you?”
Bastard.
“For now.” He stood and arched his chin. “I hope to see evidence of your breaking in the morning, Henri. Feel free to rough her up a bit. Her skin is a little too perfect for my taste.”
“Be my pleasure.” Turning my face, I sank my teeth into her hip.
She yelped.
Another chorus of sick laughter.
I had no idea how I’d mark her without hurting her, but that was a problem for later. Slapping her ass again, I winked, jumped off the stage, then carted my naked jewel through the gazebo, out into the night-shrouded gardens, and deep into the heart of Victor’s fake fortress.
I didn’t stop until I’d stalked up the stairs, entered my chamber, and almost collapsed to my knees the moment the door slammed closed behind me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
………………………….
Ily
HENRI STUMBLED AS WE CROSSED the threshold.
Lurching forward, he dumped me unceremoniously onto his bed, freed me from the belt buckled around my shackled wrists, then backed away as if I’d burned him.
The cloud-like softness enveloped me with a whiff of clean sheets and his unique earthy, woodsy scent. My heart skipped as the stickiness of his pleasure dribbled between my legs, and my bruised ribs ached from his shoulder.
Being hauled up here like a dead deer hadn’t exactly been comfortable, and the lack of food in my belly seemed all the more obvious now it’d been squished into nothing.
A few mouthfuls at dinner had barely tamed my starvation, but…if I had to be completely truthful, food wasn’t what I hungered for.
Shifting on the bed, I gathered my legs beneath me and kneeled. My clit throbbed for attention. My entire body on tenterhooks for more.
Henri’s grey gaze met mine.
And all the fire in my blood ignited.
When he’d entered me?
God, I almost came.
When he’d fucked me?
I struggled to remember not to enjoy it.
And when he’d roared and spurted inside me?
I very nearly followed him.
I would’ve followed him.
If it wasn’t for them.
The bastards watching us.
The monsters who destroyed the lives of others.
And I couldn’t.
I couldn’t let myself go.
Couldn’t allow myself to feel anything other than sickening fury and hate.
I didn’t care that Peter said living in a whorehouse caused everything to become sexual. I didn’t care that my body had already begun the slippery slope into its demise.
I wasn’t turned on by this.
I didn’t want this.
But I did want him.
The good man pretending to be bad.
The cop who forced himself to hurt me.
I’d felt his restraint as he mounted me.
I’d sensed his despair as he thrust.
My script in this story came with misery and abuse, but his? His might be even worse.
To be the abuser when you were born to be the saviour?
To become something you didn’t want after spending your entire life denying that part of yourself?
God, what was it doing to him mentally?
How much longer could he cope before he snapped?
“Henri…” I raised my hand, asking him for something...
For him to finish what he started when it was just us in the dark.
For him to erase the fictional fucking between a Master and his slave with something more.
My voice shattered whatever spell he’d been under.
His entire face twisted; his eyes bled with pain.
Biting his bottom lip, he shook his head, threw the belt he’d used to bind me into the corner of the room, then marched into the bathroom and slammed the door.
The suddenness of his leaving made the room flex and glimmer with confusion.
Tears that didn’t seem to obey me anymore suddenly rolled wet and salty down my cheeks.
What happened down there?
What happened between us?
How did him feeding me become the most erotic thing of my life, followed by having sex as one of the most degrading?
Why did my heart split down the middle and wage war on itself? Half of it cursing his name for what he’d done, the other half wanting to get on its knees and thank him for protecting me. For using his body to shield mine. For being the monster to keep the others at bay.
He’d used me against his wishes.
We’d performed a timeless act, not because we wanted each other or let lust cloud our judgement but because we were trapped in a nightmare.
Did that absolve what we did or merely reveal how weak I was?
Weak because beneath my despair lingered the very real, very awful need for him to finish what he started—