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Chapter Thirty-Six

Ophelia

“Thank you, sir.” The words fall out before I consider them. I’m in a daze, and nothing matters. Nothing besides Sebastian, his fingers, and his filthy, filthy words. He put me on show, and I let him. I ground myself against his fingers without caring who might have been watching.

No. I’m kidding myself. I wanted them to look.

If tomorrow—

Stop it. I’m not thinking about it. I’m going to enjoy tonight and not let tomorrow’s decision drag me down.

Sebastian stands and gives my leash a tug. My thoughts melt away, swirling back into mush at the indignity of it. I look down, and my face heats. The single button he’s allowed me barely covers me at all. And he wants me to walk all the way home like this?

Home .

What does that word mean now? No. Don’t think. I shuffle out of the booth, tug the skirt down, and let Sebastian lead me out of the bar.

It shouldn’t surprise me that the street is busy, but as always, it does. Sebastian gets a few friendly nods but more cold glances as we make our way back to the apartment. It’s a relief to reach his building.

Sebastian hasn’t spoken on the journey back, and it’s starting to feel weird. Usually, he fills every silence. As he presses the call button for the elevator, I shoot a look up at him, taking in the tense line of his jaw. “What is it?”

His eyes are midnight pools, and he takes a tight breath. I yelp as he grips my ass and presses me tight to his body. His strained voice sends little shudders down my spine. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed that, pet. It’s taking all my self-control to get you home before fucking you.”

The solid length of his cock lodged against my stomach gives me a pretty good clue exactly how much he enjoyed it.

The elevator arrives with a ding, and he pushes me inside, caging me against the wall with his body as he hits the button for our floor. My stomach swoops as the elevator shoots upward. “You enjoyed it too. Didn’t you.”

A statement, not a question, but I squirm under it anyway. He’s right, but admitting it to myself is very, very different than admitting it to him. “Maybe. A bit.”

I mutter it, and he laughs as the elevator stops. “Oh. Well, in that case, I’ll have to try harder, won’t I? I’ll strip you in the refectory, tie you to a table, and let everyone watch as I eat my dinner off your body. Imagine that. Legs tied apart, everything on display, and nothing you can do about all the pairs of eyes watching you. ”

He’s sick. Perverted. That doesn’t sound good at all. So why the hell is my pussy throbbing with every beat of my heart? Seconds later, the door shuts behind us.

We’re home.

He hammers out quick, staccato instructions. “Bedroom. Clothes off. Into your bed.”

My bed? Why? But his tone means business, and I can’t pretend I want to fight him. I’m lost to the madness of the evening, swept along on a tide of heat and humiliation that makes me want to obey. I shed my clothes and sit in my little bed.

Sebastian locks the shackle around my ankle and stares down with a look of purest satisfaction. “My God. I’ve waited far too long to fuck you here. I’ve imagined it ever since the first time I saw you in this bed.”

He strips as he talks, throwing off the suit jacket and racing through the buttons. His body is sharp and lean, splashed with the varied colors of his healing bruises. The dark shades hint at the darkness in his soul. The shadow that has my nipples rock hard again as he looms over me.

“Just look at you. Shackled and waiting for your master. Perfect. Spread your legs like a good little pet.”

As he sheds his trousers, I do. My stomach clenches at the demeaning instruction, and Christ, I’m soaked. A miserable, nagging part of my mind screams at me. I’m weak. I’m a slut for enjoying this. I should be fighting him like the Calder princess I am.

Fuck it. I’m sick of that voice. I spread my legs.

“Oh, there’s a good girl.”

Sebastian climbs on top of me, lines his cock up with my entrance and spears me in one rough thrust. I’m wet and ready, but the sudden stretch still makes me cry out .

He lets out a dark chuckle. “Shush with that noise. You’re made for this. Made to be fucked, by me, every day for the rest of your life.” He starts to move, and I moan at the deep, deep satisfaction that liquifies my limbs. God, he’s hitting something in me with every stroke, and it’s melting my brain.

My eyes close, and his hand cups my face. His thumb presses on my lips, and I open up, tasting the salty tang of his skin. “That’s it, pet. Let go. Let go and enjoy it.”

His voice has gravel in it, turned rough by his desire. I shift my legs apart, and he groans, thrusting even deeper. He hits that magic spot, over and over, and all I can manage is a strangled squeak around his thumb. I can let go. With him, I can.

I let instinct take the wheel, mumble, “Yes, sir” against his skin, and press myself up to meet him thrust for thrust. It’s a different type of pleasure, hitting hard and deep. I surrender to it, and my thoughts still. There’s only him.

As he speeds up, my body builds to a new kind of peak. Too much and not enough all at once. It sends me feral, chasing the edge, and before I know what’s happening, my hands are on his back, nails digging into his skin.

“Oh,” he grinds out. “Oh, fuck, yes.”

It’s enough. I explode, clenching hard on his cock as another climax rips through me. I cry out, and my teeth graze his skin. He shudders above me, groaning as he slams in one last time, locking me to the bed with his body.

His weight is a comfort as he drops his head to my shoulder. All I can hear is the mingled sound of our heavy breaths. When he raises himself up on his elbows, smiling down at me, I miss the pressure.

“Well—” He pushes a sweaty strand of hair away from my face. “—I think that counts as letting go. Well done.”

I match his smile as the pleasure ebbs and a tired sort of champagne fuzziness replaces it. I don't drink much—not a ladylike habit—and it went down much easier than I expected.

Sebastian kisses my forehead in that odd way of his, caring and patronizing all at once. It sends a cozy little shiver through me as he gets to his feet and covers me with my blanket.

“Don’t I get to sleep in the bed?” The words come out mushy, twisted up by impending sleep.

He strokes my cheek. “Not today. If you stay, this is how it’ll be. Sometimes you get to be the beautiful, smart woman you are. I’ll support you in whatever you want to do. But sometimes I want you as my pet. And right now, you’re my good little pet.”

It should annoy me, but it doesn’t. He’s honest, not trapping me here with pretty words. If I stay, it’s on his terms.

He strokes my hair as I fall asleep.

***

“It doesn’t matter what we wear. We’ll be butt naked.”

Quinn’s attempt to make me feel better doesn’t quite hit the mark, but I give her a weak smile anyway. I envy her. Since she arrived this morning, she’s done nothing but chatter about how excited she is. For her, this is a big day she’s worked toward for months. No life-ending decisions rest on her shoulders.

I woke with a dry mouth and a pounding head. Not long after coffee revived me, Sebastian’s crew of friends arrived in a big, noisy group, and it came as a relief. Sebastian isn’t himself today, and I can’t blame him. Knowing your life rests in the hands of your captive would be enough to keep anyone quiet.

Quinn, Eve, and I are in the bedroom, getting ready. Eve is dressed up—a pretty sundress, heels, and an updo. She got her makeup professionally done at the salon and said there was a queue. Today is a solemn occasion for the Brotherhood, where everyone is expected to look their best.

The men are all wearing smart suits. No change for Sebastian, but Jacob and Gabriel both look so different it jarred me at first. Jacob, in particular, looks even more dangerous than usual. What will he do if I consign his best friend to death today? Will he accept it or pull out a gun and start shooting?

I can’t even think of it without wanting to vomit.

I sit, mute, as Quinn does my makeup and tidies my hair. Eve starts to run us through the order of the ceremony one last time, but Quinn interrupts. “Oh my God, do you think Jacob will make me crawl over to Kendrick and kiss his feet like you did?”

Eve’s face blazes bright red as I whip around to face her, some of my torpor vanishing. “What?”

“I…God, that was horrible. Gabriel keeps threatening to make me do it again in the middle of a formal dinner. I’m not sure he’s joking.”

Quinn sits next to her on the bed. Her bright red crop top clashes eye wateringly with her green hair, but somehow, she makes it look good. “I wasn’t here for the last ceremony, but they told Gabriel he had to give Eve a final challenge. Something he knew she’d hate. That’s what he picked.”

I can’t imagine it. Sweet, dignified Eve forced to humiliate herself in front of the whole Compound. It’s a dash of cold water. A brutal reminder of what sort of place this is and the true status of the Wards. Property. An amusement. Forced to perform at the will of our masters.

You didn’t mind being forced to perform last night.

No. No, I hadn’t. But that was one night. The reality of my choice is ripping chunks out of my soul. Sebastian has made a selfless choice—for me. He’s put his life in my hands and hasn’t even told me the true stakes. No one has ever done anything like that for me.

But saving him means giving up my freedom. Forever. None of the other Wards were given the chance to leave. I’m in a unique position, a captive granted the ability to walk away. Yes, I’d have my father to deal with, but the more I think of it, the more I think, fuck him. He doesn’t own me. If I leave, I’m done letting him control my life.

He doesn’t own me, but if I stay, Sebastian will.

My stomach turns over, terror mixed with pleasant tingles. The same duality I’ve been battling all morning. Could I really stay with the man who captured me? Who made me his pet?

The man who cares about you. Who wants you to be happy. Who pulled the goddamn stick out of your ass and woke you up to the fact you were wasting your life on your shitty family.

God, I wish there was a third option. Something less extreme than eternal captivity.

“Ophelia?” Eve pats my knee. “You okay? It wasn’t really that bad. I mean, it was at the time. But I got over it. You will too, if it comes to it.”

What? Oh, right. Kissing Kendrick’s feet. If only that was all I had to worry about today.

Quinn snorts. “You’ll be okay. Sebastian is a fucking teddy bear compared to Jacob. It’ll be something like, ‘You aren’t allowed designer dresses or caviar for a whole month, the horror!’”

She pretends to faint, landing on my pet bed. Funny how I’m not even ashamed of it anymore. It’s such a ridiculous performance I can’t help laughing, and Eve follows suit. Soon we’re all laughing with the wild, almost hysterical abandon that comes out of stressful situations. A knock cuts through the clamor.

Sebastian’s voice comes through the closed door. “Sorry to interrupt your fun, ladies, but it's time to go.”