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I meet his gaze, hands trailing back up to his hair. “Anything for you.” He grins at the repeated endearment, stealing it from him. “Please.Pleasefuck me Laurence,” I beg.
He enters me, stretching me open, sinking in to the hilt. I wrap my legs around him instinctually, the feeling so good I want to keep him inside me.
“Right where I belong,” he whispers in my ear before withdrawing and thrusting back into me, filling me again.
I think I’m going to combust.
Laurence picks a slow pace, the need for him so torturous I pull him as close as he can be as he slides in and out of me, making me forget about everything around me as we slip intoa blissful night of fucking more times than I’ve ever done with anybody.
Chapter Eighteen: Eve
The Trust Fall
When I wake up, Laurence is gone. A knock sounds at the door. I think it might be Aurelia, bringing me breakfast again, Laurence requesting her once more in an attempt for me to get more information out of her. Instead, I open the door to find one of the guards.
There are a few reasons a guard would appear at my door, and none of them are good.
Before I can enter full spiral mode, he says, “I’m here to escort you to your next game.”
“Next game?” In my sleep-ridden stupor, I forget I’m only wearing one of Laurence’s shirts and step behind the door to hide my exposed skin, which is silly considering how much of me most of the Echelon Society has seen. “I thought that wasn’t for a few days.”
“Your next game is in an hour, Player. I’ll be waiting out here.” The guard turns around and blocks the doorway, preventing my escape even if I tried. I was also on the third floor, with nothing but a solid drop to the ground below.
This spontaneous game was strange.
And where’s Laurence?
Wandering around the rooms, I slide the curtains back to truly debate the likelihood of if I could jump from the window and live. I’d probably shatter an ankle. Trees weren’t far away… I might be able to land in a tree. Just to see, I checked if I could open the window and found it sealed. It wouldn’t budge in the slightest.
This is ridiculous, I thought.I’m just being ridiculous… right?
I try not to let panic seize me and decide this was probably just some spontaneous game to keep the Players on their toes, that it didn’t mean anything. As I frantically look around, trying to gather my wits, I spot a note on the bedside table that I missed. Crawling across the bed, I snatch it up and sit back on my heels to read it.
B,
I’ve been called away. I’ll see you soon.
-L
P.S. Do you trust me?
Relief washed away the panic. Everything was okay. He was probably called away to get ready for the games, as they typically worked. If there was anything wrong, I trusted that Laurence would give me a warning. But would I be able to tell? Maybe we needed a secret phrase that would tell me if things were going awry.
Do you trust meseemed to be our phrase to signify that everything was okay.
I exhale a long breath and crawl off the bed to get dressed. There wasn’t a dress code, so I put on one of my own outfits. A pair of jeans and plain t shirt was a change of pace from showing up half naked everywhere. It made me wonder if the nature of this game wasn’t sexual, but something else, a whole slew of new concerns flooding my thoughts as I opened the door to find the guard still waiting, back turned to me.
He glances over his shoulder at me, and then says into his earpiece, which I hadn’t noticed at first, “Ten, confirmed.” With a nod, he guides me down the hall, which is empty. The estate is massive, and it was pretty typical to not run into anyone else, but everything was sosilent. When he takes a turn that doesn’tlead to the rooms we usually play the games in, I grow even more concerned. I’m led down a short hall with no doors or windows and only a single door at the end.
Glancing behind me, I debate if I could run. My heart races in my chest as the guard opens the door to a dimly lit room that appears empty. The floor is the usual marble, the walls a bland gray, and when I step inside, the door shuts behind me, and I hear the click of the lock.
What the hell?
Before my eyes can adjust to the dim lighting, a bright fluorescent light flickers on. It blinds me and I shield my eyes against it with my hand. Through squinted eyes I see a figure sitting at a plain wooden table, but next to it is some device on a metal cart. It’s square shaped with lots of dials and a meter. Chords hang from it. I have an inkling about what it is, the excitement and apprehension making for a heady concoction as I look to the only other person in the room.
My vision returns as I see Laurence sitting at the table across from an empty chair. He has his usual placid expression on his face, completely unreadable.
“Ten,” he says, his tone all business, very different from how I experienced him last night. It’s hard not to ask him what’s going on, to jump into his arms to feel a semblance of safety, but I think back to his note, asking me if I trusted him. He gave me a knowing look, as if sensing I was thinking about it. This was that question being put to the test.
