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“Were they not supposed to?” I ask. Drystan smirks, letting go of my chin, his hand moving to my hair. I flinch at the harsh pull as he drags me from the chair to stand in front of him. His other hand comes up, the thumb sliding across my lips. When I don’t open right away, he pulls sharply on my hair, causing my lips to open on a gasp. He pushes his thumb inside, and I close my mouth around the digit.
“They can do whatever they want to you,” he answers, his lips curling into a smirk. “You belong to all of us. You are just as much theirs as you are mine.”
He yanks his hand from my hair, and I stumble backward into the chair. I sit up straight, barely breathing, as he turns away from me and goes back to his desk without saying a word. He busily shuffles through paperwork, avoiding eye contact. Is he angry at me? My mind races with questions, but I can’t make sense of anything.
Drawing on what I’ve seen so far in their relationship dynamic, it’s rather clear that Drystan holds the power. Weylen and Asher seem to take more secondary roles in decision-making, deferring to Drystan’s authority when it comes to important matters—from their arrival at my brother’s house to the humiliating dinner last night. Even meting out my punishment.
Everything hangs delicately in his hands.
Will he punish me like he did last night?
I can feel the flush of my cheeks as I recall his touch. It wasn’t the stinging pain that lingered after he left. It was the craving for more. My imagination swirls with possibilities, teasing me. Will he bend me over his desk? Take me on the chaise? Each thought lights up my entire body with heat and anticipation.
None of them have taken their own pleasure after giving me mine. They’ve fed from me, but neither Weylen nor Asher took any sexual gratification from my body. Unless feeding from me did that in its stead…
My gaze lingers on Drystan as I settle back into the chair, feeling the tension in the room slowly slip away. He seems content to work without a word, while I’m left with nothing to do but wait and wonder why they left me alone with him. It dawns on me that this lack of stimulation is part of his control.
In this moment, I belong to no one but Drystan King.
Chapter 17
Thalia
“Come here, Thalia,” Drystan commands. The hunger behind his words has my core clenching in anticipation.
With shaking hands and a lump in my throat, I pull myself from the chair. I shiver, gooseflesh rising on my skin. A tremor runs through me, despite the heat in the room. My robe has slipped open, and I can feel his eyes travel over my curvy body, catching glimpses of red lace beneath the fabric before he looks back into my eyes.
My legs feel weak, but I force myself to take steps toward him. He pushes his chair back and steers me until I’m settled between him and the desk. His hands reach for the ties of my robe, slowly unknotting them before pushing the silky fabric aside to the prize underneath.
Drystan’s jaw clenches and his pupils dilate as his gaze roams over my pale skin. A ragged breath escapes me when his hands land on my hips, sliding them up my stomach until they reach my breasts.
His thumb brushes along one of my lace-covered nipples, coaxing it into a hard point before he slides his hand down to cup my ass. He squeezes both cheeks, sending a jolt of pain through me that is quickly replaced with an ache so delicious it pins me to the spot where I stand. It reminds me of a hot stone massage or when you foam roll overused muscles. The pain isn’t bad. More like you’ve gone too hard at the gym and your legs are swollen with fatigued muscle yet still feel good because they aren’t on fire anymore.
How much pleasure can one person take? Because Drystan is definitely pushing all those limits without even trying.
He kneads the sensitive flesh slowly, gauging my reactions with careful eyes, and soon gentle moans replace my pained gasps.
His fingers drag aside the thin material of my panties before tugging them down my legs so that they pool around my ankles. Without a word, I step out of them, not wanting to make a wrong move and displease him. His fingertips graze over the soft flesh of my inner thighs as his gaze follows their path.
“Up,” he commands, lifting me from below my ass to settle me on the edge of his desk. The word is brusque from his lips, and he seems almost angry. I want to reach out and soothe the tension in his shoulders, but I’m too afraid to touch him without asking.
Confusion and apprehension slither inside me.
I shouldn’t want to please him, but I can’t help the pull I have toward him and the others. Whenever any of them are near, my body feels as if it’s on fire. Dread shifts through me as I think about my conversation with my brother, and I remind myself that they’re using me. They want something from me. My apparent mystical abilities that can unlock a magic amulet. Although I don’t see what use my abilities will be to them. Can they absorb them through feeding off me?
Drystan’s hand on my thigh pulls me from my inner musings. He parts my legs and steps between them before he slips his hands along the edges of my robe and pushes it from my shoulders until I’m wearing nothing but the red lace top. His gaze fixates on my breasts that are barely hidden by the scant lace that covers them.
His eyes roam farther down until they’re focused on where my pelvis meets his. He pushes my legs farther apart, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip, his dark gaze drinking me in. There’s that fire again. That sensual heat licking up my skin. I’m aware of how vulnerable I am at this moment, and I fight not to cover myself with my hands. This is only the second time that I’ve been this naked in front of a man. The first being with Asher not that long ago.
It feels as if he’s seeing everything. Like he’s judging me. What if he judges me only to find me unworthy? I don’t think he knows how easily he could shatter me in this moment. I’m a porcelain doll, balancing precariously on a shelf. One wrong move, and he’ll send me careening to the floor in pieces.
“Weylen tells me you were playing twenty questions today at lunch,” he hums, mild amusement adding a lilt to his voice making it almost playful.
“Not really twenty questions,” I murmur, thinking back to how many questions the vampire asked. “More like five.”
Another hum. “Let’s continue that game, shall we?” He phrases it like a question, but the hard cut of his tone makes me aware that it’s anything but.
Drystan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a purple vibrator. “Maybe with some different incentive.” I clench my thighs, but his body keeps them from closing. His hand slides down between us, and he shoves the rubbery stimulator between my lips, covering my clit. It has a tail of beads that aligns right down to my ass.
