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I immediately dropped my eyes.
I didn’t want to see Peter being taken or Victor as he loomed over Henri. At least the table between us offered a smidgen of protection.
Crossing his arms, Victor studied Henri far too closely. “You’re almost popping out of your pants, my friend.” He tilted his head, blue eyes narrowing. “Tell me, why isn’t your dick deep inside her if you’re as horny as you look? After all, you paid fucking two million for the right.”
“I was just about to ask the same thing.” Charles smirked, tucking into his own dinner now that he’d spurted down some poor slave’s throat. “He had her writhing like a whore all over his hand.” Pointing his dirty fork at me, he added, “She’s dripping for it, but…I don’t think he’s gotten the concept that he can fuck anything and anyone in whatever way he wants yet.”
“I’m merely warming her up to take my cock.” Henri smiled through gritted teeth. “I need her loose, so I don’t tear—”
“Of course.” Victor nodded with a quick roll of his eyes. “But you know, Ward, you don’t need to warm her up. She’ll take you in whatever way you want her. Tear her, rip her, that’s entirely your prerogative.” His voice lowered with conspiratorial comradery. “You’re not beholden to the usual rules of out there. In here, you don’t need to give foreplay. You don’t have to give a damn about her pleasure. If she comes when you take her, then she should consider herself lucky. It’s not up to you to get her off. It’s up to her to please you.” He huffed with a shake of his head. “I don’t understand what you’re not getting about this.”
God, I hate you.
Henri fought his scowl. “And if I like scrambling her mind with lust? If I enjoy fingering her wet pussy until she’s completely drunk in my arms, what then?”
“Then I suppose you’re tamer than I thought.”
“Or I like to savour my food.” Henri snapped his teeth together. “Everyone knows fear spoils the meal. Show a lamb the knife, and the meat is stringy. Kill it while it’s happy in the field, and it’s the tenderest roast you’ve ever tasted.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
For a cop, he sure knew how to speak like a psychopath.
“Fine.” Victor sniffed. “You paid for her so take her however you wish.”
Henri tipped his head. “I appreciate—”
“However. Just to ease matters along. Allow me to help you. Diana?” Victor barked, looking into the shadows where a few waitstaff flitted about, ready to serve. “Bring a decanter of whatever alcohol Henri is drinking.”
“Yes, sir.” She curtsied and dashed away, returning a few moments later with a crystal bottle with a stopper. After placing it carefully next to Victor on the table, she faded into the background.
Victor splashed a very healthy amount into a glass and shoved it toward Henri. “Drink.”
Henri frowned. “I’m not thirsty.”
“Drink anyway.”
Holding Victor’s stare, Henri curled his hand around the glass. “I’ve already had one. That’s my limit. I make it a point to never get drunk. Not after last time.”
“You shot drink after drink back at the club when I told you to strap Ily to the table.”
“That was… extenuating circumstances.”
“But why deny yourself indulgences? Do you say things you’re not meant to if your tongue is oiled with booze?” Victor kept a very careful eye on him.
Tread carefully, Henri.
Please…
“No.” Henri raised the tumbler and sipped the amber alcohol. “I tend to do things that break the law if I’m smashed. That’s what got me into this mess.”
“Mess?” Victor’s tone turned chilly.
“Forgive me.” Bowing his head politely, Henri forced a smile. “I only meant, I might’ve been able to keep fooling myself if I hadn’t gotten drunk and did what I did. I might not have awoken such needs.”
“Yes, these needs you keep talking about.” Victor narrowed his blue eyes. “I’m yet to see them come out to play.”
“You saw me fuck her against the pole.”
