Page 44

DECLAN

H er face, a mask of shock, is a priceless painting I long to capture and hang on my wall.

Fear.

She realizes now this isn’t a joke. A glint of steel catches her eye, and her gaze snaps to the cold, deadly blade.

She’s assessing everything. Just how I expect she’s been trained to.

Once all the girls are sitting at their desks, I slide the microphone in front of me and hit the red button.

“Welcome to the second game.”

I spin the rings on my fingers and focus on her. I speak directly to her, making sure my next words are carefully chosen.

“This game is important. Where you officially become the property of Decadence. Both in life and in death, your soul shall be marked to belong to me and only me, your Master. Through your pain, there shall become a new beginning.”

I pause, watching as she sucks in a breath. Slowly, she looks up at the camera in the corner of the room, and it’s like all the air is knocked out of my lungs.

As if she too is stealing my own soul right out of my body, a chilling emptiness spreads through me.

Shaking my head, I try to clear the fog from my mind, the lingering scent of cigar smoke still in my nostrils. I can’t let her get to me.

Bringing my mouth back to the microphone, I continue.

“But let’s not forget, when I inflict pain, I also provide pleasure. But none of you deserve the full extent of that yet. I suppose you’ve all noticed the toys on the table. The rules are simple, and listen closely. First, you will insert the toy into yourself and turn it on. You will then be given sixty seconds to memorize the drawing in front of you. Your guard will blindfold you and hand you the knife. You then have five minutes to carve the design into your thigh.”

I hear the audible gasps, sharp intakes of breath that fill the silent room.

I’ve not told them how big or small, how deep, realistically; if they’re clever, it doesn’t need to hurt too bad.

But alongside the toy sucking at their clit, it should provide an enjoyable experience… for the right woman.

My real winner would be squirming in her seat, begging to come. Begging me for more.

And I’d lick the blood off her thigh and kiss her, letting her taste herself.

My dick strains against my pants, imagining her, my heartbreaker, dripping with blood and aching for my cock.

To excel at Decadence and be worthy of entering Inferno, one must be fearless but trusting.

Trust that I can take care of them.

If they can put their trust in the games, thriving under real, immediate fear, then I have found my woman. One that I offer a deal to, to become my submissive.

Rubbing my palm over the dull ache in my chest, I stare at her on the screen.

I fear I found the woman five years ago.

“I shall be watching you all closely. There is one final rule: you are not, under any circumstances, allowed to orgasm.”

They all frown, but Ebony, no, she arches a brow. I’d guess she doesn’t believe it’s even possible to want to come.

I chuckle, picking up the remote to her toy.

“The guards are in charge of the intensity of your toys. You go over the edge, you’re out of the games. As soon as your design work is complete, to a high standard, you can remove the toy. Are we all clear?”

They all nod, except Ebony. She’s too busy eying up the toy. Is that confusion on her pretty face?

Clapping my hands together, I lean back in my chair.

“Never used one before, gorgeous?” I mutter under my breath.

God, I can’t wait to see her suffer under my own hands. For now, I’ll take control of her toy. I have the power to take over any game should I so choose. I never have, until now.

Pressing the earpiece to the group, I clear my throat.

“Reggie, I’ll lead on this one.”

With the remote firmly in my hand, my cock twitches against my zipper.

“Give her a little guidance on how to use the toy, she seemed confused.” The words are out of my mouth before I put thought into it.

Oh, what fun we could have had together.