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Bastien is a monster. An evil son of a bitch.
CHAPTER23
Camille
We’re at Dark Desires,and an audience watches us. They’ve been listening to our groans and cries of pleasure, greedily drinking us in if their thirsty stares are any indication. They lean forward in their seats, eyes shining in anticipation.
Bastien keeps moving, and I’m crying out in fury and shame, tears running down my face, but I can’t stop my orgasm. It swells and crashes over me in a great wave, splashing all over my body. I come and come, helpless, my whole body spasming. White-hot ecstasy drowns me, and I bury my face in the bed to hide my shame.
I’m coming all the while bawling my eyes out. My whole body is wracked with sobs.
Something clicks and the handcuffs fall off me. It’s then that I notice that Bastien isn’t inside me anymore. I’m panting, trembling as I sit up and frantically push my dress back down.
Everyone in the audience stands and applauds. They’re not jeering but praising. Their shouts of approval sound lusty and eager, but I don’t care. For just a few precious moments, all the shame of my past had fallen away from me, and I’d felt so light, so free.
And Bastien ruined it like he ruins everything good between us.
He made me feel like he’d dumped me into a vat of sewer water and the stink and filth and shame film my skin and choke me. He reminded me of the person he is. A tormentor.Mytormentor.
Bastien slides off the bed and stands up. He turns toward the crowd and bows deeply from the waist. Ever the showman. I wonder if this is the performance of his life. Or is this something they get to witness often with him and his many concubines.
Furious, I yank on my dress to ensure I’m covered and run from the stage. A security guard tries to stop me, but I kick him in the crotch so hard he doubles over. I race to a side exit and manage to make it outside into the alley behind the club. It’s dark out, the stars washed out by ugly wads of clouds, and a streetlight bathes the alley in a sickly yellow glare. I’m running for the street when Bastien catches up to me, grabbing me around the waist.
“Let the hell go of me!” I scream, hysterical. “You fucking monster! You make me sick.”
His fingers tighten around my arm. “Why are you lying to yourself?” He holds my arm tightly, triumph burning me in his ice-blue gaze. “You know you love it when people watch us.”
“I don’t. I’ll never beg you again, never.” I spit the words. “If you want me, you’ll have to rape me!”
“You love being forced to do things,” he scoffs. “It’s the only way you’ve ever liked it.”
My heart pounds in my chest, and I gulp for air. It’s true. I love it when Bastien holds me down and makes me do things. But Bastien’s taking it too far, making our own private rituals into a public humiliation. “That’s not why you did that.” I seethe. “You did it to punish me. You never do anything to benefit me.” My chest heaves as I struggle to breathe being this close to him. His smell. His touch. No matter how awful he is, my body will always beg for him. “You ruin everything you touch.” It comes out small and weak. The fight bleeds out of me.
He kisses my neck, a sweet, gentle brush of his lips, but I don’t react. I’m thoroughly spent. My energy gone.
“I saved your life, didn’t I?” he says into the shell of my ear, sending goose bumps to pebble over my skin.
Yes. Yes, he did. He’s tearing me to pieces with his dizzying swings between cruelty and kindness. My tormentor, my savior. My lover, my demon. I can’t take much more.
“The next time I want you, you’ll bend right over for me,” he taunts. “Do you understand?”
A dizzying collage of memories swarms through my head. That hotel balcony. Mr. Sinclair and Pandora, staring right between my spread open legs. The audience inside Dark Desires with their eager, hungry eyes. “Try it and find out.” I turn over my shoulder and glare at him with bitter determination. “It wouldn’t be the first time I surprised you.”
He spins me around in his arms, leaning down until our lips are inches apart. “Oh I will, Camille. You can bet your fucking life on it. I’ll do it again and again. You’ll never tire of it.”
My cheeks warm in fury at his confidence. “You will never make me come again, youbastard.”
There’s a flicker of something that looks like regret in his eyes. Is he even capable of such a feeling?
“Never is a long time.” His voice goes velvet-soft and he strokes his index finger down my cheek. I stiffen with rage and spit in his face.
He rears back, eyes widening in surprise. I brace myself for a slap, but he just wipes the glob from his face, staring at me. “I told you what I would do to you when you agreed to stay with me,” he reminds me. “I didn’t lie.”
I lean in this time, holding his stare. “And I just told you how I’m going to react from now on. Every time you put your hands on me, I’ll lash out.”
He searches my gaze, and he can see the stony determination there. A spasm of despair contorts his face. Is the iceman melting?
“You don’t think you deserve to be punished for betraying me, for lying to the police, for ruining my life?” He’s trying for harsh and scary, but I can hear the actual doubt threading through his words.
