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Henri tipped his chin in respect. “Thank you—”
“And…” Victor shot me a look. “Seeing as you’re rather attached to your jewel, I’ll agree to extend your exclusivity for the foreseeable future. I’ve already talked to the other guests, and despite their misgivings, none of them have given me the funds that you will for the privilege, so…you’re a unique case, and I’m open to allowing certain advantages.”
Henri sat taller. “That’s—”
“Just one teeny tiny thing.” Victor held up his finger. “When the day comes that I want a taste. When I give the request to fuck her…you will not put up a fight. Not a single fucking word. Do you hear me?”
His words were like a bucket of icy slush.
My shoulders curled.
True horror soaked into my blood, dirty and damned.
I tried to be grateful that no one else would lay a finger on me.
But knowing I’d one day be Victor’s?
I wanted to be sick.
Violently, disgustingly sick.
Gritting his teeth, Henri studied me.
His hands flexed. His nostrils flared. He looked positively unhinged.
But finally…he nodded. “If that’s the price to keep her for my own, then…I accept.”
“Merveilleux.” (Marvelous.) Victor stood and swiped his palms on his shorts. “Now we’re both on the same page…is there anything you need? Clothing preferences? Medications? Things that you’ll miss from the outside world?”
Henri scratched his five o’clock shadow. “Eh…I think I’m good. Actually? You know what? A laptop would be appreciated.”
“A laptop?” Victor’s brows furrowed. “You know you can’t access the internet, no matter how much you gain my trust. You could be my own flesh and blood son, and I wouldn’t allow you a phone or social accounts.”
Henri stood and adjusted himself. “Not for that. To be honest, I don’t miss going online at all. It’s a haven to be away from the moaning and the mess, but what I am missing is writing.”
“Ah, yes.” Victor smirked. “The book you were penning.”
“Seems I’ll have spare time now. I won’t have to work at menial jobs to pay my bills, and well…” He chuckled. “I can only do so much fucking in one day.”
Victor grinned, glancing down at Henri’s straining boxers. “Tell me, mon ami. Have you fucked your jewel today? I’ve been slack looking at the cameras.”
“Once. In the shower.” He raked a hand over his face. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Oh?”
Henri glanced at me.
I glowered back.
“I swear stealing something she didn’t want to give me is the best kind of aphrodisiac. I keep thinking that each time I take her is the best fuck of my life, only for it to pale each and every time.” He sighed happily. “And when she switched beneath me this morning? When she rocked back and impaled herself on my cock? When I felt her fucking fist me with an orgasm that choked my own release right out of me? Jesus Christ.”
I gagged on self-hatred.
Good grief, Ily.
My idiotic plan of claiming sex as my own method of survival seemed to have already backfired in my damn face.
I’d chosen to use him like he used me.
I’d stolen back my power.
Denied him the chance to rule me.
Switched suffering into pleasure and despair into desire and…
I hadn’t stopped to think how Henri would react.
How he’d think I wanted him.
How I’d just tangled us together in far worse depravity.
My heart jumped on the self-hatred wagon, reminding me that for all his previous comments about playing along in a farce of marriage and monsters, I’d had similar thoughts. I’d compared our three nights of slumber to a strange, unconsummated honeymoon.
Well, we damn well consummated it this morning, and judging by the way Henri stared at me, it was only a matter of time before he had me on my knees again.
“Sounds as if you have a little nymph on your hands. Lucky you.” Victor winked, moving around the lounger and placing his hands on the back of it. “What’s the book about?”
“What are all books about?” Henri shrugged with a strange kind of wince. “Pain.”
Victor marinated in that answer before asking softly, “Her pain or yours?”
“More like the pain we’ll inflict on each other.”
He nodded as if he liked that answer. “Fine. I’ll get you a laptop. One with writing software but no Wi-Fi chip. Anything else?”
Henri looked at me, his eyes disturbingly direct as if he could see all my secrets. “Maybe a few clothes for her? A robe that isn’t see-through? Some underwear so other guests aren’t tempted by what is mine?”
Victor snickered and shook his head. “Even now you confound me.”
Henri drew back. “I confound you?”
“You look at her as if she’s a pretty doll that you’ll do anything not to break, but I know the moment you hold a knife in your hands, you’ll bleed her.”
“So?”
“So…I haven’t met many Masters who are so willing to be both soft and harsh.”
“Isn’t that where the fun lies? The hurting and the healing?”
