Page 22

Twenty-One

Ophelia

Sebastian’s nonchalant act isn’t fooling me. Sure, I’m still here, and so is he, but there’s more to this than he’s letting on. I’ve always had a sixth sense for when I’m being played, and this little back-and-forth with Gabriel feels like a scam.

But…I am still here. The military guys haven’t thrown a hood on my head, bundled me into the back of a car, and dumped me on my dad’s doorstep. My optimistic hope that rescue will come without action on my part deflates like a two-week-old balloon.

I’m here, Sebastian is here, and Eve is about to leave.

I’d started to relax with the girls. Logically, I know they’re brainwashed, but they don’t seem like they are. Nothing they say is sparking my bullshitometer, and even Eve and Gabriel’s affection seems genuine. I know it has to be some toxic Stockholm syndrome, trauma-bonding crap, but no one has ever looked at me the way he looks at her. Sad but true.

Eve detaches from Gabriel and comes over. There’s an awkward moment, and I can almost read her thoughts on her anxious face. Well, time to get sexually assaulted by your captor. Have fun. See you at dinner.

She gives my shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll see you later.”

At least she doesn’t tell me everything will be fine. Gabriel raises a hand in farewell, then wraps it around Eve’s. They leave together, looking like a pair of happy newlyweds. It’s too strange, and all at once, I can’t stand to look at them. I turn away, staring out of the window as the door closes.

The trees stretch out, and I can’t help searching for the metallic slash of the fence. The girls assured me that part of Sebastian’s story is true, and I believe them. The trackers too. The time might come when I’m desperate enough to throw myself at an electric fence, but it hasn’t come yet.

A reflection on the glass warns me of Sebastian’s presence before his hand wraps around my waist. A casual touch, the way a boyfriend would stand with his girl. Not that I’ve ever experienced that sort of relaxed intimacy. The two guys I’ve been with only saw me as forbidden fruit. A crime lord’s daughter—the sex equivalent of bungee jumping off a skyscraper.

Sebastian grips my shoulders and gently turns me to face him. The smug, fake expression is gone, and he studies me more frankly than he has up to now. His skin is paler than it was yesterday, and dark smudges ring his eyes. Either he didn’t sleep well, or whatever happened this morning took a lot out of him.

He rubs the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “This came out perfect. Do you like it?”

Yes, actually. When Quinn insisted on doing my makeup, I couldn’t stop staring at my lips in the mirror. But I’d stab myself before I’d admit that. “No. They look stupid.”

“They don’t, and you know it.” His hand slides up to my hair, running a lock of it through his fingers. “You look absolutely fucking incredible.”

I shouldn’t feel anything at his words, but my heart pulses anyway at the raw desire in them. All I can think about is the pleasure he forced on me the previous day. Over and over, while I begged him to stop. My pussy clenches at the memory, even as my face heats.

I can’t help but study the hard angle of his jaw and the midnight-blue pools of his eyes. Men who look like him shouldn’t be dangerous, but that’s what he’s giving off now. A smile flickers across his face, and it’s the one that makes me shiver.

“We played a game last night. Do you remember?”

I’ll never forget until the day I die. I grunt in assent, though hope sparks. Maybe we can stick to the same rules as before.

“The ceremony we discussed yesterday? We’re going to practice for it. If you behave and get it right, you get to pick where I fuck you. If you mess up”—he shakes his head—“I get to choose.”

“But…I… You can’t…” The words clump together. I can’t get over how casually he’s saying all this. Like it’s normal and I’m the crazy one. Maybe I am.

“I can, and I’m going to.” His face softens. “This will all feel normal soon.”

The echo of my thought sends a chill through me. Will it? Based on Eve and Quinn, who both seem like intelligent women, yes, it will.

He claps his hands as if it’s a done deal. “Right. The ceremony.” He pulls out a chair and sets it on its own in the middle of the living room. “You need to imagine this is a stage and you’re off in a room to the side. They might let you have Eve with you while you wait. Quinn will probably go first because…”

He falls silent, and I have the distinct impression he almost said something he shouldn’t. He doesn’t seem good at keeping secrets. If I’m smart, I might get him to reveal something he doesn’t want to. “Why will Quinn go first?”

“She’s been here the longest. That’s how they do it.”

I’m not buying it .

He raps the back of the chair with his knuckles. “The real chair is a big, heavy carved thing. I’ll sit on it to wait for you. You’ll strip and walk out to kneel at my feet.”

Said as if he’s explaining how to make a cake. He seats himself in the chair and watches me expectantly. “Go ahead.”

My eyes are drawn back to the window. I want to be out there. Anywhere else. Not here. Kneeling for him is just…no. I can’t. I shake my head. “It’s ridiculous. You’re not a king, and I’m not your servant.”

“No, I’m an ordinary man.” He lets out a long sigh. “I hadn’t planned on fucking you in the ass for a while, but I suppose I’m going to have to. Maybe it’s your thing. Do you prefer it?”

I’ve never even tried it, and the thought makes me clench up protectively. It’d hurt. It’d be messy. And worse, it’d be degrading. He’d probably take a goddamn photo.

I stare out of the window again, then back at Sebastian patiently waiting on his seat. Would he really do it? I think so. He’s made a new game, and this falls within his new rules. Plus, in a way I can’t put my finger on, he seems different. Like the gloves are off and everything is suddenly more serious.

Kneel, sit, stand. They’re all just body positions. What difference does it make? Quinn wouldn’t give a shit. Be like her.

Good advice, but can I heed it? I clench my fists and take a step toward him.

“Strip first. My God, Ophelia, we’ll be doing this for a long time if you can’t remember that much.”

The amusement is back, and so is the darkness. He’s a kaleidoscope, shifting second by second. Why couldn’t I get a sensible captor?

The thought is so stupid it almost makes me laugh, and it gives me the strength I need to strip. He spent hours looking at my naked body yesterday. It’s not like I’ve grown anything new since then. It’s still difficult, though, with the way he watches me. He wears the self-satisfied look of a man who knows he’s going to get everything he wants.

This outfit, chosen with Quinn’s help, isn’t completely hideous, so I take the time to fold it neatly and place it on the arm of a chair. I’ll wear it to dinner later. It’s much better than any of the other options.

When I turn to face him, a smile tugs at his lips. “There’s a good little pet. Well done.”

I wish he wouldn’t do that. And I wish there wasn’t a sad, affection-starved little part of me that warms up when he does. I ignore it, stare at his feet, and force myself to walk toward him.

“On the day, of course, you’ll be onstage in the auditorium. Two-hundred or so people will be watching.”

I know. He’s already said that. He’s just trying to unsettle me. I thump down to my knees as gracelessly as possible and meet his gaze. “What now?”

“I thought we decided on sir?”

I go blank for a moment, then the rule comes back to me. I’d forgotten. And, it seems, so had he, until now. He reaches out and plays with my hair almost absently. “Try that again.”

“What now, sir?” I don’t make the words any more polite, and his smirk returns. He gives his head a little shake. He speaks to me as if he’s talking to himself. “You know, I can’t tell you how strange it is, having you at my feet and knowing I can…”

He slides his fingers down my cheek and over the hollow of my neck. I should flinch back, but his touch is so gentle I almost lean into it. “It would be strange with any girl, but with you…”

He takes a deep breath and drops his hand away. Back to business. “Then, you kiss my hand and recite the following. ‘Thank you, Sebastian, for choosing me as your Ward. I am yours, and yours alone, forevermore.’ ”

Ridiculous. Like some ancient marriage vow. If everything he’s told me is true, it is, in a way. In the past, a lot of marriages weren’t exactly voluntary. Consent is a modern concept, really.

It feels like a revelation, and I can’t help but share it. “All this would have made sense five hundred years ago. If you’re all scientists, why haven’t you modernized? Why are you still like this?”

He dips his head, brow creased. “I’m so glad you’re comfortable enough on your knees to start a philosophical discussion. I imagined you’d be keen to get this over with.”

He starts to play with my hair again, running his fingers through the silky strands. One advantage of never being allowed to dye it. It’s in beautiful condition.

“I once asked Kendrick—that’s the big boss—the exact same question. Most Brothers aren’t exactly comfortable with the idea of taking a woman captive, you know. We’re not total psychopaths.”

“Really.” I keep my voice flat. Despite the awkward position, I’m glad to talk. “You don’t seem too concerned. Neither does Gabriel, from what I’ve seen.”

He laughs. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw Gabriel before he took Eve. My God. The man was a mess.”

Sebastian slides his fingers through my hair, rubbing my head in a way that is so goddamn soothing I want to close my eyes and relax into it.

“What Kendrick told me made a lot of sense. With what we do and the discoveries we make, we can’t lead normal lives. Relationships, kids, divorce. Even using prostitutes. It’s too messy and would lead to our work getting stolen. Diluted or destroyed. But we’re not monks, and we can’t live like we are.”

He keeps going with the soothing head massage, and his other hand moves to my breast. He rolls my nipple between his fingers, and it feels too good. It’s hard to make myself concentrate on the conversation.

“So, what? The Wards are just sacrifices to your great deeds?”

I can’t include myself in the group yet. It’s easier to think of Wards as an alien species, which will never include me.

“Yes. You are. At least here, we’re making the world a better place. Outside, you were just helping your father make it worse.”

The remark cuts, and the worst of it is I don’t have a comeback. I’m not stupid enough to believe my family serves anyone but ourselves. More money, more power, more influence. More, more, more.

“And how are you changing the world for the better?”

He pauses his hands for a second. Surprised, maybe, that I didn’t bite back at him? Then he moves the tip of his finger to my lips and traces the outline of them. They’re still sensitive, and the tingle melds with the pleasure from my nipple, heating my clit until I can’t help shifting on my knees. Does he notice? The smug expression returns. Of course he does.

“I’m working on predictive algorithms. I’m practicing with the stock market at the moment—it’s fun and useful—but I plan on using them for much greater things once they’re perfected. Used right, they’ll predict the future. We’ll be able to head off disasters before they happen.

Big words and bold dreams. “And you need a sex slave to achieve that?”

He slips his finger into my mouth. It’s such a shock that I don’t react at first, and the salty taste of his skin lights up my nerves. I have the strangest urge to explore it. I slide my tongue over the tip before I realize what I’m doing and freeze.

Sebastian groans. “God, you’re just dying to suck on it, aren’t you? Do it. Do it right now. ”

Christ, where did that gravelly tone come from? Full of command and need. I risk a glance at his crotch, and the hard swell of his erection is impossible to miss. My tongue moves of its own accord, sliding around his finger, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world to take a tentative suck.

My eyes are drawn to his, and his darken as I watch. His breathing grows rough and ragged. His free hand moves to his crotch and rubs through the fabric, and my nipple aches from the loss of sensation.

“You lost the game, Ophelia. You didn’t say the words.”

Shit. I’d forgotten what was riding on this. Why did I let myself get drawn into conversation? My words come out muffled and stupid around his finger. “That’s not fair. I…”

“Shhhhh.” He kisses the top of my head. “It’s okay. You got lucky. I don’t choose your ass. It has to be your mouth.”