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This is a game…an enjoyable game for him. They are just a bunch of spoiled rich kids who think they can do whatever they want to women under the guise of a secret society.
When it seems like they pass by, I look around the dark room, the buzz of the party still outside.
The door opens and I take a step back just as Xander stares at me standing in front of him, like a lamb to the slaughter.
The edges of his mask curve into a smile. “Are you going to run?”
I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of a chase because that’s what I suspect they want me to do. His nameless, faceless friend walks in after him.
“Damn, she’s hotter than I thought she’d be,” the smaller one says under his mask.
Xander leans in and stares at me under the cold, dead eyes of the burlap mask. “And bold,” he says. “Are you feeling brave, sweetheart? Or are you just going to sneak around my house uninvited?”
I cross my hands over my body, feeling very exposed in my short dress. “I didn’t sneak in here and you know it. You lured me. Where is Lincoln?”
He steps toward me, and I fall back on the soft bed behind me. So incredibly soft, I run my fingers over it.
What did they give me?
“You’re pretty fucking stuck up, aren’t you, Summer Landry?” he says. For whatever reason, he hates me and he knows who I am. He can tell from my last name and the picture of my grandparents on his wall.
The relationship his grandmother had with my father.
“What the hell do you want from me, Xander? I don’t even know you.” He’s so close to me, I can smell the spice of his cologne.
My heart rate is extenuated because of the drugs coursing through my system. I pull off my mask so I can breathe.
His eyes draw to my white hair and his head tilts. “You don’t belong here. You’re not one of us. I don’t care who your father is. Open your fucking legs; I want to see what that fucker did to you.”
My mark. He’s talking about my mark. My fingers instantly cover it and my mouth gapes open. “I don’t think so.”
He grabs my knee and I try to kick him, needlessly, because he merely swats me away.
I stiffen as he grips my leg. “Is that why you drugged me when I came in, so you can take my clothes off easier?”
He snorts. “Believe it or not, sweetheart, I have no desire to fuck you. The drugs are because I’m a nice guy and it will make it hurt less.” He jerks his head. “Hold her down, man.”
Panic settles in. I kick hard, flailing my arms. My nails meet flesh as I scrape Xander’s friend’s arm with everything I have, digging my nails in as hard as I can.
“Fuck, man,” he cries out, pulling his arm away. “She made me bleed.”
Xander shoots him a look, and he pins my wrists and wraps a powerful arm around my mouth. I go to bite him, but he anticipates it and shoves his hand over my mouth, depriving me of oxygen.
He leans down and whispers, “I’m very good at inflicting pain. Don’t fucking test me.”
I go slack, knowing it’s pointless to struggle. Eventually, his grip loosens, and I take deep breaths in and out of my nose.
Xander runs his hand up my calf and smiles when my body finches and tears well in my eyes, despite the orgasmic sensation running through me that seems to settle between my legs.
He pulls my dress up, his face unreadable. His gaze travels down my body, his attention drawn to the prominent mark on the apex of my thigh, right next to my panties.
He chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “He really fucking marked you. Son of a bitch.” He raises his head, his black holes for eyes flicker. “I hope he fucks that attitude right out of you before he kills you. If you were my woman, I’d have you in line by now.”
“Well, thank god I’m not your fucking woman,” I seethe. “Lincoln is so much better than you.”
He yanks his mask off and shoots me a look of complete revulsion, as if my very existence is a source of torment for him.
He raises his chin and chews on those damn lips. “I’m not talking about Lincoln, sweetheart. You’re a fucking dead girl walking. You have no idea what you’ve done, or what you’re doing to him. Get the fuck out of this town, Summer. That’s your only warning.”
