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“You don’t seem happy to see me, Duchess.” Andre’s voice wasn’t warm before, but right now it’s like ice. Cold and emotionless. “It makes me worry that maybe you’ve been running that pretty little mouth of yours.”
I try to dig my fingers under his, fighting for as much purchase as possible. Right now I can still breathe, but something in his eyes tells me that might not be the case for long.
But Andre’s grip is as unyielding as the hard body pressing against mine. “Who have you talked to?”
My brain scrambles along, tripping over his question as it races to find a way to get myself out of this situation.
Andre’s other hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back until my eyes focus on his. His lids drop the tiniest bit as he presses tighter to me, the thick line of his rigid dick unmistakable where it digs into my thigh.
Does he find this arousing? Pinning me in place like this?
Is that why he refused to have sex with me? Because he didn’t think I could handle something like this?
“Who have you talked to, Duchess?” He repeats the same question, his voice a little rougher than last time, but I’m still not sure what exactly he’s asking me.
But the options are limited.
“About what? About what we did?” If Andre thinks I’m the kind of girl who runs around telling everyone about her sex life, or lack thereof, then he is about to be in for a big surprise. I learned a long time ago that there’s no way a woman can win in that game. You put out, you’re a slut. A whore. Easy. You don’t put out, you’re a prude. A tease. Stuck up.
The only option is to keep your mouth shut and hope people don’t talk anyway.
Even though they always do.
“The money.” The bite in his words sends a chill down my spine in spite of the heat rebelliously collecting in my belly before sinking lower. “Who did you tell about the money?”
“What money?” I suck in another breath, giving up the attempt to fight his fingers from my throat and instead gripping his wrist tight with both hands. “There is no money. We didn’t f—” I can’t make myself say the word, even now. “I didn’t hold up my end of the deal so I didn’t get paid.”
Andre’s black eyes narrow and his head slowly tips to one side as his gaze moves over my face, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite see. “You weren’t expecting to get paid?”
I try to shake my head but can barely move in his grip. “Yvonne told us that if we didn’t hold up our end of the agreement, then we wouldn’t get paid.” My next breath moves in a little easier. “I didn’t do that.” I try not to think about how he knows the exact way to hold my neck so I can still breathe but can’t do much else, because I’m pretty sure it has to do with sex.
Sex Andre clearly thinks I can’t handle.
Which shouldn’t be disappointing to me.
The hand around my neck relaxes the tiniest bit, but Andre’s large frame stays pressed against me. “Tell me then, Duchess,” the tip of his nose moves along the side of mine and his warm breath whispers across my skin, “did you believe sucking my cock had no value?”
I swallow hard at the reminder, my throat working under the heat of his palm as my legs clench. “You didn’t pay for that. You paid for my…” Another word I can’t make myself say.
It’s no wonder the man didn’t want to fuck me. He probably found the prospect of sticking his dick in a virgin who can’t even talk about sex unappealing as hell.
“Say it.” It’s not a request. It’s a demand.
And it makes my legs go a little weak.
I swallow again, and the movement lifts one corner of his mouth in what might be a smirk. Like my discomfort amuses him.
Of course it would. Everything about me probably amuses him. After I left he probably sat with Victor and laughed over the silly virgin who thought she’d be able to seduce anyone, let alone a man like him.
But I’m not silly. I’m desperate.
Andre’s head tips until his lips ghost against the shell of my ear. “Say it, Duchess. Remind me of what I paid for.”
I shiver again, but it’s not fear racing over my skin, it’s something else. Something I’ve spent years ignoring, which makes me feel even more ridiculous. Ridiculous for ever thinking I could have handled being a part of that auction. Stupid that I believed I could turn it into something more.
Andre’s fingers suddenly tighten, sealing off my airway. “I don’t like waiting, Duchess.” His eyes meet mine. “Tell me what I own.” He says the words slowly, dragging them out as my lungs begin to burn.
Just as pinpricks scatter along my skin his grip relaxes. I gulp in air, ready to do whatever it takes to make sure I keep breathing. “My virginity.” It tumbles free, slurred and jumbled, but I say it.
