Page 19

OPHELIA

I shouldn’t have been surprised when James made his presence known.

While I was dragged down here, I recognized the faint hint of Clara’s perfume.

The walk down the stairs wasn’t as violent as it had been when James had dragged me down here. Didn’t stop me from recognizing the familiar walk to my cell.

She didn’t order me to keep the bag over my head. That was the guy who placed the bids on me. I will never forget his voice.

But I suspected I was in James’s house.

I was right.

I’m here. James is here.

I had no idea that I’d be sticking around. I thought we were making a short stop here before I was delivered to my bastard owner.

Anxiety soaks my pores, stomping on my survival instincts. On my will to fight, to get out of here. Lust joins it, the fucker.

James is as hot as he is awful.

He’s hard in his pants. He said the word playing like he’d say suck me .

I get so wet from that. Painfully, shamefully wet.

He can’t keep evoking these emotions in me. I won’t let him win. Ever. “You can’t do this to me. I’m not some animal you put in a cage.”

“Tell me, Ophelia.” His fingers massage my scalp. Soothing me. Lies. It’s all lies. My hair is still in his grip. In his tattooed hand that’s now identical to Topher’s. He can tug harder anytime he wants. He probably will. “What does ownership mean?”

My heart flutters. Skitters and stops. If I answer, he’ll hear my desire for him. It’ll be really loud too. The tingle between my legs is torture. The need for him locks my throat. My swollen breasts ache for him.

“Use your words.” He dips his chin. “Deny me, and you’ll be punished.”

Violence bleeds from his eyes. And lust. He’s fucked, just like me.

I don’t know why he’d pay an obscene amount of money for me. Sure, he’ll get some of it back. All of it goes to his cult’s bank account. He won’t get three-quarters of it back, though.

He’s lost so much money. For me.

Could he really want me that badly?

Maybe.

I have no idea what that says about either of us.

I have no idea if I’ll ever get out of here. If I’ll live long enough to survive his games.

No, I do know. I won’t die here. I won’t. I refuse to.

Is it really up to me, though?

Doubt gnaws at my sanity. I can’t be sure of anything. I might actually die here. He’s strong enough to end me.

He might end me here and now if I don’t do as he says.

“I’m hungry.” Raising my chin when my hair is in his fist is a challenge. It hurts. “How’s that for words?”

“Bold. That’s what it fucking is.” His self-control wavers. His voice rises. His lips twitch.

In an instant, he’s back to his old self.

Nothing can get in or out.

Besides me. I made a crack in his walls before. I’ll do it again.

“Bold is auctioning unwilling women.” He opens his mouth, ready for a rebuttal. I beat him to it. “Except it isn’t bold when it comes to you, is it? I saw the police chief there. You know him, and he’s okay with your little gang.”

“Not a gang.” He’s bent over to look me in the eye.

He’s so strong. So imposing.

I bet, beneath this designer suit, he’s all muscle. All power. It’s bad to think about it. To crave it. I’m as good as gone if I don’t get that picture out of my head.

“Whatever,” I keep talking back. That’s the only thing that’ll save me from my inconvenient need for him. From fearing him. “Anyway, I wonder what Topher will say when he finds out you were the one who bought me. That you fucked him over.”

“Stop. Talking. About. Him.” Everything he says is calculated. Delivered slowly. Meant to scare me further. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s meant for him. A way for him to stay ahead of the game.

One thing’s for sure. I’ve struck a nerve.

“Who?” I’ve been touched, groped, and motherfucking auctioned today. I’m here with my…owner. I’m attracted to him, for fuck’s sake. So yeah, I grow even bolder. Anything to stop this madness inside my head. I push myself higher until our noses nearly touch. “My ex-boyfriend?”

“This game you’re playing won’t end well for you. You’re way out of your depth here.” Fire within him. Ice coating the outside. “You said you were hungry.”

I wasn’t lying about that. I haven’t had anything to eat since our dinner last night. And no, the toothpaste I swallowed after I was waxed and pampered doesn’t count.

But my weaknesses aren’t his to exploit. “I’m not. I only said it to spite you.”

“You’ll need to eat at some point,” James muses, seemingly nonplussed.

He can tell I’m lying. The games have officially begun, I guess.

“Who will you come to for food then? Tell me.”

“To you, asshole.” I pinch my lips, stopping myself from spitting on him. From getting this sick fuck off. “To the asshole who’ll feed me.”

“Cute.” He shakes my head. I bite back a groan. “Try again.”

I’ve poked him enough. His temper is rising faster than before.

He might kill me for it.

I hate this cell. I don’t want to die here.

Damn it. Two words. I can say two words, and it won’t mean a thing. As long as I get to fight another day.

“My owner.”

“Louder.” Despite being bent over me, I still have a view of the bulge in his pants. His thick cock jerks. I do not wish to touch it. Ever. I don’t. “Louder, Sonnet.”

“My owner.” Keeping my eyes on his as I growl the words is my only way to preserve my dignity. “My motherfucking owner.”

“That’s better.” James moves my head to the side. His lips burn a trail across my jaw. My cheek. It’s hotter than before. More sinful. He stops at my ear. I can hardly hold back my gasp. “I’m going to get my money’s worth right now. Beg me to feed you.”

“I’m not hungry.” My breath hitches. “I won’t beg.”

As soon as I say that, he releases me. Stands up to his full height. Fuck, he’s so tall. So intimidating.

After he takes six measured steps toward the cell door, he turns around, glaring at me. This force of nature exerts his power over every inch of the small space.

“You’re right. Begging isn’t what I’m after.

Maybe later it will be.” He adjusts himself in his pants without looking away.

Like him being hard is a minor inconvenience.

My need for him, though, isn’t an inconvenience.

It’s ruining my life. “I recall bringing an end to a particular scene at the auction.”

Crawl.

He’s talking about recreating it.

“No.” As if denying him would do me any good. As if refusing him will make my nipples any less hard. “No.”

“I have the keys to your handcuffs.” I’m drawn to his hand patting one pocket of his pants. “I’ll take them off. I’ll get you the food you’re so desperate for. If…”

A pause. The bastard is making me wait. Making me hope he might change his mind.

“If?” I ask when I can’t take it anymore.

“If you crawl to me.”

“Ha.” I put everything into my fake laugh. “You’re more delusional than I thought.” Fight. Fight. Fight. I have to fight. Even now. Even when he hauls me to my feet by the collar of my dress. “I won’t beg,” I growl, tipping my face up to meet his glare. “Won’t crawl to you. I won’t.”

“Topher would’ve pushed you to your hands and knees. Would’ve forced you.” What he doesn’t say is that he won’t do it. Won’t use his body and strength to demean me.

There are other methods in James Hawthorne’s arsenal.

Creative ones. Hotter ones.

The wrong ones.

“And you?”

I’m being slammed into the wall. James grinds his hips into me. He can’t help it any less than I can silence my moan.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Even my damn hands betray me, my fingers curling to grasp at his shirt.

Fuck.

“Crawl to me.” He slides his hand to my jaw, applying the slightest pressure to angle my head to the right. Pressing his lips to the pulse point in my neck. “Crawl to me, and you’ll eat. Crawl to me, and I’ll go easier on you.”

Goosebumps spread across my skin. A tremor builds at the base of my spine, rising higher and higher.

James smiles against my neck. Parts his lips. Sinks his teeth into my flesh.

“No,” my mouth says. The rest of me says so much yes . I arch my back, tilting my head to the side to offer James more of me. “Do whatever you want. Starve me to death. Punish me. I won’t crawl to you.”

“Hmm.” The way he sucks on my skin, I know it’ll leave a mark. “If that’s what you want.” His lips go higher as his free hand bunches my dress up my thighs. “Sweet property like you.”

His tongue swirls around that spot below my ear. His thumb strokes the lips of my pussy through my panties. I think I’m dying. Or I will if he keeps doing this to me. If I come face-to-face with him again.

Oh God, it’s mortifying. I cry from the humiliation, but fuck, it doesn’t stop me from rolling my hips on his hand.

“I need you,” I whisper, shame drenching my voice.

“Crawl.” He breathes hard when he tears himself from me. “And you’ll have me.”

“Please.” God, fuck, why am I so pathetic? Why do I need to come this badly? “Please, James.”

“Better, though it isn’t what I’m aiming for.” His hands are warm on mine as he unlocks the handcuffs. “I’ll be back soon. See if you’ve had a change of heart.”

With the cuffs in his grip, he walks out the door. Flips the lock. Cages me again.

I’m empty. Wet.

Indignant as hell.

“Isn’t that what you paid for?” I scream after him. My hands are flat against the wall at my back. I don’t trust myself to stay upright without its support. These feelings will bring me to my knees. “To fuck the virgin?”

He spins. His face is blank, expression cold. It’s like he’s stripped the emotions from his soul. “Who says I won’t?”

One last look and he’s gone. James is out of sight. Out of reach.

Using what’s left of my strength, I hurl myself forward.

“I hate you.” I wrap my fingers around the cell’s bars. Stick my head out as far as it will go. Tears slide down the metal. “I hate you.”

He walks away as if nothing’s happened.

This jerk. This monster.

This man that I don’t hate at all.