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The ages of those girls, as he jerked off in the dark to their screams, ensured I didn’t eat for two days straight. If anyone deserved torture and mutilation before he died, it was him.
I might be built wrong.
I might house a curse given to me by my father.
My soul might be filth and my heart might be foul, but at least I wasn’t as sick as some.
Yet.
Waving his fork at me, he grinned. “Bet you’re a frustrated bastard with a painful hard-on, huh, Henri? Damn cops giving you blue balls.” He leered at Ily beside me. “How did she feel? That first touch? I admit watching you line up, seeing the way she flinched as you notched inside….Oh yeah.” He shuddered dramatically. “I’m gonna need a front-row seat for when you do fuck her.”
Victor smirked as he sat in an empty row, buckling up with elegant hands well used to the opulence surrounding us. His private plane dripped with decadence from the oversized cream leather seats to the rose-gold accents and twinkling starlights above us. “Henri is in for the time of his life. We’ll all have to watch how he adapts.”
I forced a smile. “Can’t wait.”
Ily muttered a slur under her breath.
Victor chuckled. “To think…two new guests. One potential Master and one new jewel. I love when things work out.” Running his forefinger over his bottom lip, his gaze slithered from me to Ily and back again. “You’re sitting beside a stunning girl, Ward, yet you’re not touching her. Why?”
I choked. “Why? Eh, because we’re not at your estate yet?”
“Wrong.” He shook his head. “You’re not touching her because you still don’t think you can.”
“She’s yours for the weekend; you heard the Master Jeweler.” Roland chuckled. “You can touch her any place you want. Any time you want.”
“Like hell he can,” Ily hissed. “Let me off. Right now. You’ve all had your fun. If you let me go, I won’t say a word to anyone, I swear.”
“Ah, you could’ve come up with something original, my sweetling,” Victor drawled in his posh French accent. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that one over the years?”
Ily turned into a statue, her midnight hair kissing her bare shoulders. “How…how many girls have you taken?”
“You know what? I seem to have lost count.” Victor grinned. “Boys too. We don’t discriminate. We’re an inclusive society, aren’t we, Roland?”
“Very inclusive.” Roland finished his pancakes and licked his lips. “And don’t worry, once Henri has broken you in, we’ll all have some fun. Diversity is key, after all.”
Ily shifted as if she was moments away from launching across the aisle and stabbing Roland with his syrup-sticky fork.
She’d struggled when I’d first shoved her onto the aircraft but wisely stopped when one of Victor’s guards pressed a gun against her temple and raised his eyebrow.
“He’ll pull the trigger, my pet,” Victor had drawled as he’d climbed into the cabin behind us. “I don’t tolerate uncontrolled crying, fighting, or begging. You can sit quietly and behave, or you can die and have your body dumped at sea.”
Ily had complied, but it seemed as though she needed another reminder.
I clamped a hand over hers on the armrest.
She sucked in a breath as her eyes whipped to mine.
My skin stung where I touched her and every part of me screamed to stop. To rip my hand away so I didn’t suffer the infectious heat prickling between us, even now.
Her overbright gold-hazel eyes trapped me into my chair, and I had the awful sensation that she saw straight through me. Saw the deal I’d made with my stranger-of-a-brother. The cracking of my resolve. The blackness I could never quite tame, no matter how hard I tried.
“Don’t touch me.” She yanked her fingers from under mine. “Ever.”
I sighed heavily, clenching my fist as residual tingles stung. “You and I both know that’s not going to happen.”
My gaze dropped to her mouth and my mind exploded with images of her cuffed on the table. I’d never been so hard in my life. Never been so close to throwing every moral out the shattered fucking window and sinking inside her with no control.
I was grateful we’d been interrupted.
