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Konrad smirks, catching my eye before dropping to his knees in front of her glistening cunt. Her hips buck as he presses a gentle kiss against her bare mound, then winks at me. “Stay, you might enjoy it.”
I shake my head. “You know me better than that.”
“I do. Maybe we could keep this one to ourselves,” he suggests. “You could do what you want to her without fear of Father’s wrath.”
“No.” The truth is, I don’twantany of the Numbers. Perfection turns me off. Beauty lies. It hides ugliness beneath a pretty shell. The three of us are the perfect example of such a truth. We three are handsome beneath these masks, but have twisted, black hearts. I don’t deny that fact. Never have.
“Leon, are you staying?”
He shakes his head. “Not today, Brother.”
“Suit yourself.” Konrad shrugs before replacing his fingers with his lips and tongue and eats Twelve out.
She jerks against his face, a cry of pleasure ripping from her mouth, followed by broken sobs that wrack her body. She hates herself for reacting the way she does. Society has conditioned her to believe what she truly wants,needs, is wrong. She believes that her body is betraying her spirit, her soul. It isn’t. It’s showing her the truth.
When she realises that, she’ll understand, and she’ll never try to leave here. Our castle may have brick walls, and iron bars. It may have an ancient forest surrounding the castle that’s so dense, escape is impossible, but contrary to popular belief, it is not a prison. At least not a traditional one. The Numbers stay of their own free will. Well, perhaps with a little coercion in the beginning. A few more weeks of this and she’ll be under our spell completely. I already see her fracturing apart. Every orgasm she gives up, another chink in her carefully constructed armor. Eventually it will crumble, and like an addict she will look to Konrad for her next fix. She will chase the high. He will make her believe that he is the only one who can give it to her, andthatis why she’ll stay.
Reaching for the heavy, iron door, I release the latch and pull it towards me. I have no intention of spending any more time in this cold, dark chamber, preferring the darkness to be found in the forest than these cool dungeons Konrad thrives in, or the cold underground lake Leon prefers. Stepping out into the hallway, Leon following close behind, I come face to face with Renard, our elderly butler.
“Sir…” His face is pale, not because of what’s happening inside the dungeon behind us—he’s immune to such things now—but because something else appears to be troubling him.
“Renard, why are you down here?” My voice is sharp, reacting instinctively to the tension he holds.
“I have some news,” he begins, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening as he frowns.
“What is it?” I demand. His gaze flicks to the girl and Konrad before returning back to me. “Speak!”
He swallows hard then nods. “It’s your father. He’s dead.”
