An interesting contradiction, layering her with yet more secrets I needed to steal.
I held my breath, waiting to see if her despair would override my command.
It didn’t.
Slowly, her spine unfurled like a fucking tempting flower, raising her shoulders, bending her neck, followed by her rageful, sorrowful face.
I hadn’t lied about being around other silent ones in order to gain talents elsewhere. I’d been initiated into such a sanction.
From the day I arrived to the day I left in disgrace, the masters never spoke, expecting us to know exactly what they wanted. I’d learned another language, becoming more than bilingual but multilingual, understanding the nuances of eyebrows, reading hints from muscle shadows. I called on those skills the longer I was in her presence.
Clearing my throat, I glanced around the room. It hadn’t slipped my attention that she’d stared at the corners as I fastened the door. This entire fucking house was rigged up to its window panes in security feeds and cameras.
I might have bartered for an uninterrupted night, but I wouldn’t get it. Alrik wouldn’t stay true to his word. And the thought of being naked and balls deep in his slave—vulnerable and surprised—wasn’t something I planned to let happen.
The moment Pimlico rested upright on her knees, I said, “Forget the phone. No one else exists but us.”
Her eyes flickered but she stopped her inner thoughts from shading her completely.
“In this room, there is no past or future, just the present. All you need to do is behave, and I’ll treat you better than the others.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Don’t believe me?”
The twitch of her chin gave her reply.
“You don’t have to believe me. I’ll prove it.” Shifting onto my knees, I mimicked her position. Unlike her, my joints didn’t pop with reluctance. My body was honed, trained, and treated like a priceless tool because that was what it was.
Yet you want to risk your health by fucking this girl.
Well, that and I wanted something more.
I wanted into her damn mind…and if I had to hurt her to achieve that.
I would.
I FROZE AS Mr. Prest balanced on his kneecaps before me.
His suit rustled as he reached out and placed large hands on my shoulders. His eyes dropped to my breasts as if the obstruction of the white dress didn’t hide what lay beneath.
I tensed, waiting for him to touch me there again. However, his fingers tightened on my skeletal upper arms, adding pressure until I teetered unwillingly.
I fought him, doing my best to ignore his push.
What the hell is he doing?
“First thing I want from you is…” He shoved me, smiling as I sprawled sideways with my hands splayed to catch my fall and legs locked together. “…stop sitting like that.”
Like what?
Like a woman who doesn’t have a choice?
Almost as if he heard my snark, he once again put pressure on my shoulders, forcing me onto my back. “Relax.”
No chance.
I squirmed upright, wincing at the pain and the throbbing bones in my hand.
I didn’t trust him not to punch me in the stomach or take advantage of my body when spread out.
He didn’t let me clamber up, pinning me to the mattress with his fingers around my throat.
Let me go.
I stopped breathing.
My muscles locked.
The provocation of touching me there hurtled me into a whirlpool of horror.
He’s touching my neck.
My lips parted for breath, fighting so damn hard not to sink.
He’s not Master A.
Ignore the trigger.
Ignore it!
Our eyes met—mine wide, his narrowed as his body hovered close.
Don’t.
I didn’t know what I asked him not to do. But he stiffened with his mouth only millimetres from my lips. “Keep fighting me, Pimlico, and we’ll have a fucking problem.”
His voice trapped me in a net, keeping me from floundering in the despicable dark.
How could he tell I was fighting him?
How could he hear my silent retorts?
I had nowhere to hide with him.
I hated it.
Suddenly, he sat back, removing his hold on my neck and swiping a hand through his hair.
I sucked in a lungful of relief.
“Something you should know about me, girl.” He bared his teeth at the abhorrent word. “I’m not your master. Like I said before, I see more than he does. I know more than he knows. And I hear every refusal you think.”
Remaining on his knees, towering over me, he murmured, “I know you fear I’ll hurt you like him and take advantage of you.”
Won’t you, though? That’s what this is all about.
I looked at the wall, cutting him off.
Mr. Prest grabbed my wrist, tracing his thumb around the bony joint. “Look at me.”
I didn’t.
His voice dropped to a hiss. “Look at me.”
We made eye contact.
Something charged and grew and collided. The electricity became worse, humming with power.
Shit.
Drop your eyes.
Do it!
But I couldn’t.
Like cement, his gaze kept me imprisoned, unable to break its hold.
His lips spread over perfect white teeth. “Ah, finally…a response.” Smiling coldly, he said, “I guessed right, didn’t I?”
No.
“I did. You don’t have to refute it.” Shifting, he reclined alongside me, his body not touching mine but his heat scalding me all the same. His fingers never dropped from my wrist, stroking with tiny whirls of his thumb. “How about we start this again?”