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“I offered you the easy way, remember?” he taunts, referring to the ridiculous contract that can’t possibly be legal he shoved in my face. “You didn’t want it. This is the alternative.”
He’s full of shit.
I don’t intend to speak to anyone about a bunch of college kids screwing each other. Why would I? But signing away my entire life to promise I won’t is another story.
“Here’s what going to happen, your highness,” he tells me, his voice full of authority, like he believes his word is law. “You’re going to strip out of your awful sack. You’re going to get on your knees and look up to me. I’m going to pull my cock out, and take a picture of you just like that. And then, you can go if you’d like. Or stay. That’s up to you.”
He doesn’t mean that, right?
He can’t mean that.
He has me at his mercy. He’s so much stronger than me, he can easily take what he wants.
Unless…
He really wants proof I won’t babble. I refused to sign his stupid contract; that photo would certainly keep anyone in check. But can I trust him?
Absolutely not.I don’t trust anyone with a cock. Most men are complete and utter pigs, even if they pretend to be harmless.
That said, there’s no pretense with Marius; he unapologetically does what pleases him, like he did at the pool party.
I fuck with everyone.
I found his admittance refreshing then. Right now, it’s horrifying.
“Understood?” he asks, before slowly lifting his hand off my mouth.
I want to bite it harder. As he didn’t even acknowledge my first attempt with the slightest wince, I don’t bother.
“No,” I reply firmly.
“Oh, Sarah.” He shakes his head. “Don’t make me do it to you myself. You won’t like the result.”
A shiver travels down my spine, and sets my inside on fire. What would he do if I keep fighting?
“Not you,” I grit between my teeth, scrambling for a way out. Even if I can get out of his grasp, running doesn’t seem smart; he’ll catch up easily. And then, I’ll be far from the nearby group, which would make me a lot more vulnerable.
“Ask Violet,” I demand. “To take the picture.”
Surely, she’ll help. She’ll get me out of here. If nothing else, she’ll make sure Marius doesn’t hurt me.
His hand’s still around my neck, but he’s not tightening it anymore. Likely because I’m not fighting. I know he will if I try.
In the few short months we’ve known each other, since Violet and Rhys waltzed into my life in November, we have become really good friends. It’s not anintimatetype of friendship—I’m not built for sharing all my deepest, darkest secrets and fears like I see people do on TV. And nor is she. I didn’t know she was into potentially satanic orgies in the woods. But I know she won’t let him rape me, beat me, or whatever he might have in mind.
Marius glances over his shoulder, toward her, and frowns.
“Nah, she’s busy.”
Shit. I can’t deny that. When I first looked, she was sandwiched between two guys; currently it’s four.
I swallow.
His eyes travel right back to me, zeroing in on my throat, and I feel his thumb slide alongside it, almost caressing it.
The way he looks at me makes me want to run very fast, very far.
Silence stretches between us, until Marius clears his throat. “How about Riley?” he offers.
