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Cass sighs, his shoulders dropping as he nods. “Then we gotta do what we gotta do.”
“Casanova. Come here and let me try again.” Vik calls across the room, and my heart sinks.
Shit.
I can’t do this.
“For Skipper. Remember.” Cass gives my hand a squeeze before going back to Madam Vik, and I have to turn away when I see her hand wrap around his dick, and she tries to make it hard.
I dash out of the main room, heading to the jacuzzi area as bile rises up to my throat. I get propositioned three times on the way. I tell them I have a bad case of warts, or I have cold sores in my mouth, and I’ve got gastro and am likely to vomit. Unfortunately, that last one still spikes the interest of the guy who propositions me, so I bolt out of the room to hide in the den.
What the fuck am I doing here? It doesn’t interest me anymore. It feels wrong, like a betrayal. Just the thought of Cass getting or giving pleasure to someone else feels like someone has reached inside my chest and is squeezing the life from my heart.
“Since you aren’t going to service our guests tonight, perhaps we should spend our time together now?” Master Hill’s voice makes me jump, and I spin to see him in the doorway.
“Now?” Nerves wash over me as he nods.
“Yes. Follow me.”
I hesitate, trying to quickly assess if there’s another option. Option one is to go with Master Hill and submit to him. Option two is to leave and destroy Ty’s life.
It’s only sex, Rhys. Stop acting like it matters!
I choose option one because option two doesn’t seem like an option at all. I follow the fuckhead out of the den, making the mistake of glancing over my shoulder to the main room. My eyes land on Cass. The muscles in his back are straining as he moves his hand quickly in front of him while Madam Vik kneels on the floor, her head between his legs.
A sob escapes me, and I turn away as inconceivable pain slices my heart in two.
All sounds of the Feast cease as my blood rushes past my ears, and I stagger, trying to keep up with Master Hill. We move in silence, down the stairs to the basement, through the wine cellar, to the door that holds nothing but more dread. When he opens the door, I follow him in, trying to close my mind off to the image of Cass and Madam Vik. Master Hill doesn’t speak but rather points to the cushion on the floor where I’m expected to kneel.
Like a good little submissive, I kneel, cast my eyes to the floor, and wait. I’m trembling, I realise, as I listen to him moving about the room, getting things set up for whatever he has planned.
“Eyes up, Kitten.” Master Hill demands, so I glance up through my dark lashes to see him standing by the contraption that looks less like a bed and more like a torture instrument. “Crawl to me.”
“W-what?”
“NO SPEAKING!” he booms, making me flinch, and I can’t stop the sob from escaping as my heart stops for a beat. “Crawl. To. Me.” He says each word with a pause in between, like I’m fucking stupid or something. On shaky arms and legs, I crawl across the rusty coloured carpet, coming to stop at his feet. “Eyes up again.”
I roll my eyes before lifting them to him, trying not to notice the bulge in his suit pants as I look up his body.
“Stand up.”
I’m shaking so much now that it’s almost impossible to stand, but I manage; no thanks to the fucker who doesn’t even offer to help.
His eyes roam over me as I stand before him, and then his hand travels the same path his eyes did, brushing over my shoulder, down past my breasts, to the lace band of my G-string.
“Stand at the end of the bed and face it.” His voice is lower and huskier now, like his arousal is affecting him.
Ew!
I do as I’m told and stand at the end of the bed, facing it. Its cold black pipe frame and red leather padded surface look nothing like a bed. This is a workbench of sorts for bondage.
His hand on my back makes me stiffen, especially when he pushes me forward, bending me over the end of the bed.
“Hands behind your back.”
Now, if I were being honest with myself, I would know what he plans to do, yet I still put my hands behind my back, hoping I’m fucking wrong.
I’m not.
