Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Mr. Shaunessy caught his elbow to prevent him from falling. “Careful.”
Royce nodded. He bent and picked the item up, holding it where I could see. An hourglass. The two kissing bulbs of glass were encased in four bars of dark wood, and it was hard to tell the exact shade in the dim lighting, but the sand inside was a deep red.
Without explanation, fear gripped me just as Royce gripped the bars to hold the hourglass in front of him. Perhaps it was because the timing sand was the same color as blood and I hated the sight of it, but I knew better. It was deeper than that. I sensed this had been brought out for dark, ritualistic purpose.
“I’m reminding you again,” Macalister’s voice slashed deeper into my anxiety, “you are here because you’ve chosen to be. If you want to stop, you only have to say so. Agreed?”
My teeth were chattering, but not from the cold. “Yes, sir.”
Only a hint of a smile ghosted across his lips, but it felt more real than any other smile he’d given me. He looked at his men who surrounded the table and nodded. It was a clear signal. Let’s begin.
Hands reached out to hold me, and I gasped. Shock flooded every muscle in me, and as I instinctively tried to pull away, it drove me toward the hands on the other side of the table. My wrists were circled, and my arms gently pulled away from my body. Palms closed around my shoulders, my waist, my thighs.
None of it was rough or forceful or aggressive, but regardless, I was pinned naked to the table by seven sets of hands, and they all belonged to strangers. My eyes went enormously wide and breath seized in my lungs.
I was trapped, but I’d also been handed the key. I could set myself free at any time; all I had to do was utter a single word. I quit fighting against my restraints and tried awkwardly to adjust to my new captivity.
Was this how it was going to happen? The board would hold me down as Royce took my virginity? Was this some Handmaid’s Tale shit? It was fucked up, but even worse . . . a tiny thrill sliced through me. It cracked open just enough room for unwanted pleasure to have me squeezing my knees tight together.
This sordid rite was like something straight out of the mythology books I found so compelling. I was a virgin sacrifice on Mount Olympus, and the men surrounding me believed they were gods.
I stared at Royce over my heaving chest. He wasn’t looking at me, although I didn’t get the sense it was out of shame for himself or respect for me. His attention was set on Zeus, waiting impatiently for his next command from the chairman. Or perhaps the moment his father’s power would be handed to him.
The chair that had been moved out of the way was dragged back into place at the head of the table, and Macalister gestured toward it. “This is my seat,” he said to Royce, his tone full of resentment. “But tonight, it will be yours.”
Royce passed the hourglass to his father. When he unbuttoned his coat and lowered to sit on the throne, my heart beat so violently I grew lightheaded. He was right there in front of me. My feet dangled between his spread knees.
“You’re committing yourself to this board,” Macalister said. “By putting the company before yourself, you’re giving us a tremendous gift, Marist.” I shuddered when he said my name. “One which we have immense gratitude for.”
Mr. Lynch and Mr. Scoffield each had a palm on the top of my thighs, but when Royce’s hands closed on my knees and urged them apart, those palms slid inward.
Nervous excitement made me tremble.
I lifted my head, staring down as the men spread me open and bared my nakedness to Royce, and a horrific thought flooded my mind. This was supposed to be Macalister’s seat. If I hadn’t negotiated, he would be the man before me.
My feet were guided and set on the armrests of the chair, and then the two men flanking it locked both of my knees under their arms.
“What are . . .” I gasped, swallowing a gulp of air and choking on it.
The low light in the room heightened the shadows, and as they flickered over Macalister’s face, he looked wicked. “Each board member will have one minute to show you his appreciation and prepare you for your partnership with Royce.”
I couldn’t hold onto my thoughts enough to process what he was saying. I ran after them, but they slipped through my fingers, nothing more than wisps of air. It left me disoriented and confused. Prepare me?
“As chairman, I would go first.” Envy coated Macalister’s voice.