Page 30

CHAPTER 30

M ary

When they finally sent me from the study I let out a little whimper at every step. My bottom, reflected in the big mirror in the hall, blazed like the sun. My pussy and anus sent surges of eye-watering discomfort flooding through my nervous system. As soon as the door closed behind me, I reached back to hold my punished cheeks, trying to soothe the agony Georgy’s huge hand had left there.

“I won’t tell Monsieur you’re rubbing your backside,” Jean said, stepping out of the shadows. “But you should know you’re not allowed to do that without permission, after a spanking. If Monsieur catches you, he’ll give you the cane.”

I pulled my hands away and put them in front of me defensively. I backed away a step down the hall as Jean advanced, his tall frame looming over me, clad in the dark suit all the bodyguards wore.

I lowered my gaze, trying to appear properly submissive as Jean approached. My heart raced as I realized this could be my chance to raise the Guard mole’s interest in the intelligence he could gather from me, given the opportunity. But I had to be careful. I couldn’t let on that I knew Jean’s true identity.

“Thank you, sir,” I murmured, keeping my eyes downcast. “I’ll remember not to touch myself after punishment.”

Jean nodded, his expression unreadable. “Good girl. Now, tell me, did you hear anything interesting while you were serving Monsieur Beaumont and his guest?”

I felt a flutter of panic in my chest. This was it—the moment of truth. I had to play this exactly right.

“I… I’m not sure, sir,” I stammered, trying to sound confused and overwhelmed. “They talked about a lot of things I didn’t understand. I was so focused on pleasing them, I couldn’t really follow the conversation.”

I risked a glance up at Jean’s face, seeing a flicker of disappointment cross his features. He didn’t believe me. Good. That meant he would keep pressing for information.

“That’s a good girl, Mary,” Jean said, his voice taking on a gentler tone. “A good little whore doesn’t pay attention to her master’s private conversations.”

I bit my lip, as if struggling to figure out how I should speak and act in his presence. “Thank you, sir,” I murmured. “I try to be a good girl even though it’s hard.” I lowered my eyes and clasped my hands in front of me. “It’s… they took me away from… everything. And, you know… Monsieur makes us… do… those things.”

Jean’s eyes narrowed slightly as I raised my gaze to his face again, as if in search of mercy. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out whether I represented an asset for his own mission. He knew I was holding back, but he also knew he couldn’t push too hard without revealing his own agenda.

More than that, I thought I could see in his expression some kind of… appreciation, maybe? As if he knew, from some outside source, that I had a great deal more intelligence and insight than I pretended.

He’s got information on my background , I suddenly realized, a chill traveling down my spine. The Pretorian Guard had gotten word to him somehow that I represented more than a simple fuck toy. As Sven had predicted, the Guard had access to my life story, as depicted in Selecta’s database.

Jean knew I had information he desperately needed. I just had to make sure I could turn that into a ticket to Pretorian Guard headquarters for me and Camille.

Suddenly Jean reached out and took hold of my shoulders before I could react. Roughly, he turned me around and pushed me up against the wall, my face pressed against the wallpaper. I let out a cry of pain and surprise as he squeezed my spanked bottom hard. His fingers probed between my legs, sliding easily into my still-slick pussy.

“I can feel how wet you are,” Jean growled in my ear. “Even after the pounding I’m sure you got from Monsieur and the Russian. Your body betrays you, little whore. Now tell me what you heard in there.”

I whimpered, torn between the pain in my abused bottom and the shameful pleasure his fingers were eliciting. “Please, sir,” I begged, my voice muffled against the wall. “I didn’t hear anything important, I swear. Please let me go.”

But even as I pleaded, I could feel my body responding to his touch. My hips rocked involuntarily, seeking more friction. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t seem to stop. The intensity of what had happened in Beaumont’s study, combined with Jean’s dominant presence, was overwhelming my senses.

“You’re lying,” Jean hissed, pressing his body against mine. I could feel the hard length of him through his trousers. “I can tell when a little slut like you is holding back information.”

His fingers thrust deeper, curling to hit that spot inside me that made my knees weak. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, shame and arousal warring within me.

“Sir, please,” I whimpered. “I didn’t understand what they were talking about. It was all business stuff I don’t know anything about.”

Jean’s other hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back. The pain in my scalp mingled with the pleasure building between my legs, creating a confusing whirlwind of sensation.

“You expect me to believe that?” he growled. “A smart girl like you, from a Selecta college? I think you understood more than you’re letting on.”

My heart raced at his words. Yes, he did know about my background. The realization sent a jolt of fear through me, even as it confirmed my suspicions about his true identity.

Jean’s fingers continued their relentless assault on my senses, driving me closer and closer to the edge. I could feel my resolve weakening with each passing second. Part of me wanted to give in, to tell him everything I’d heard. But I knew I couldn’t, not yet. I had to make sure Camille would be included in whatever came next.

“Sir,” I gasped, my voice trembling. “I… I might have heard something about a virus. And power grids. But I don’t know what it means. Please, I’m telling the truth.”

Jean’s fingers stilled inside me, and I had to bite back a whine of frustration. “A virus?” he pressed. “Tell me more.”

I shook my head, tears of genuine frustration and confusion welling in my eyes. “I… I don’t know anything else, sir. Please believe me.”

Jean’s grip on my hair tightened, and I could feel the tension in his body as he pressed against me. His fingers resumed their movements inside me, slower now but no less intense. I couldn’t help the small moan that escaped my lips.

“You’re holding back,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “I can feel it in the way your body responds to me. You want to tell me everything, don’t you?”

Odin and Thor help me, I did. There was something about Jean’s touch, the confident way he handled my body, that reminded me of Sven. Unlike Beaumont’s clumsy pawing or Georgy’s brutal use of me, Jean’s dominance felt… right. My body responded to him instinctively, recognizing a true master.

I found myself wanting to trust him, to spill every secret I’d overheard. The urge was so strong it frightened me. I had to remind myself of my mission, of the importance of keeping Camille safe.

“Sir,” I whimpered, my voice barely above a whisper. “I… I might remember more if…”

“If what?” Jean prompted, his fingers stilling once more.

I swallowed hard, gathering my courage. “If you promised to protect my friend too. Camille. I’m so worried about her.”

For a moment, Jean said nothing. Then, slowly, he turned me around to face him. His dark eyes searched mine, and I saw a flicker of something there—understanding? Respect?

“You care about her that much?” he asked softly.

I nodded, tears spilling down my cheeks. “She’s all I have left in this place. Please, sir. I’ll tell you everything I know, but only if you swear Camille will be safe too.”

Jean’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the door to Beaumont’s study swung open.

Beaumont and Georgy stepped out, their faces flushed from champagne and satisfaction. They paused at the sight of Jean pressing me against the wall, his hand still between my legs.

“Well, well,” Beaumont chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “It seems my little whore has been busy entertaining the staff as well.”

I felt my face burn with shame, but Jean didn’t move away. Instead, he turned slightly to face Beaumont, keeping me pinned against the wall.

“My apologies, Monsieur,” Jean said smoothly. “I was just reminding the girl of her place.”

Beaumont waved a hand dismissively. “No need to apologize, Jean. It’s good to see you taking initiative with our new acquisitions.” He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “However,” he added, his tone growing firmer, “I’m afraid this little redhead isn’t quite ready for the full attentions of the staff just yet.”

I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment wash over me as Beaumont’s words sank in. The conflicting emotions made my head spin, and I had to remind myself that this was all part of the act, that I shouldn’t actually want Jean or anyone else to use me.

Beaumont’s lips curled into a cruel smile as he continued, “We’ll give her another week or so to settle in properly. Then, Jean, you and the other guards can have your fun with both our new acquisitions.”

My stomach churned at the casual way he spoke about giving me and Camille over to the guards, as if we were nothing more than party favors to be passed around. I lowered my gaze, trying to hide the mix of fear and unwanted arousal that I was sure showed on my face.

Jean nodded, his expression unreadable as he stepped back from me. “Of course, Monsieur. Whatever you think is best.”

Beaumont turned his attention to Jean, his tone becoming more businesslike. “Now, Jean, be a good man and have Georgy’s car brought around. Our esteemed guest needs to be on his way.”

“Right away, Monsieur,” Jean replied with a slight bow. He cast one last, inscrutable look my way before heading down the hallway, his footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor.

As Jean disappeared around the corner, Beaumont’s gaze settled on me. I could feel his eyes roaming over my naked body, still flushed and trembling from Jean’s touch. The weight of his stare made me want to cover myself, but I knew better than to move without permission.

“As for you, my little fire-haired slut,” Beaumont said, his voice dripping with false affection, “it’s time for you to return to your room.”

I nodded meekly, not daring to meet his eyes. “Yes, Monsieur,” I murmured.

But Beaumont wasn’t finished. He reached out, running a finger along my jawline, forcing me to look up at him. “Clean yourself up thoroughly,” he instructed. “I want you and your dark-haired friend ready for me tonight. I plan to enjoy you both properly.”

A shiver ran through me at his words. The thought of being used by Beaumont again, along with Camille, filled me with a confusing mix of dread and anticipation. I hated how my body seemed to betray me at every turn, responding to these men’s touch and words despite my mind’s protests.

On the other hand, if Camille and I were together in our master’s bed tonight, I would have the chance to tell her about Jean. We might even have the opportunity to plan a way to make sure the Guard took us together, when they came for me.

“Yes, Monsieur,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll be ready for you.”