Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Ashleigh
C helsea sits on one side of me, as Melody sits on the other. Though I know nothing about them, I sense an uneasiness that sets me on edge. Neither speak, but then, what exactly did I expect after what those men said? Pretty sure I’m going to get nothing out of them.
“So,” I eventually break the silence. “How long have you both been... Well... I mean... What exactly are you? Slaves? Submissives?”
An unladylike snort drifts from Chelsea as she leans over and taps her lips with a well-manicured finger. “I’m a slave to my Master Grigori, but I’m pretty sure Melody is just a submissive.”
For once, the other girl shows some emotion other than just passivity. Her nostrils flare as she lifts her head, pinning Chelsea with a glare. “This isn’t a competition.”
“Yes,” she agrees, “But if it were, I’d be winning.”
This time, it’s Melody’s turn to snort. “But it’s not, so fucking cool it before you get us both into trouble.”
Confusion floods my brain as I watch the two interact. Not that any of this makes sense in any way, but seeing them go at it like sisters fighting over the last bowl of cereal is certainly not something I thought I’d see today. Especially not after everything else. My fingers itch as I watch them, desperate for my notepad.
Ugh. My kingdom for a pen. I know myself well enough to say without impunity that I’m an unreliable narrator. Sure, I’ll remember this back-and-forth nonsense, but will I be able to report it correctly?
A bark of laughter wells up from my throat and bursts from my lips, startling the two until they both look at me. “Sorry,” I wheeze as what I can only assume to be hysterical laughter bubbles out of me. “I just realized there’s no way in hell Dean Anderson will let me report on any of this.”
“Absolutely the fuck not,” a deep, bassy voice rumbles behind me.
“Speak of the devil,” I murmur, turning to look at the man in question.
“Yes. I have appeared. Melody, Chelsea,” he snaps out. “There is a car out front. You will both be taken to Grigori’s until we are through here.”
Without even so much as a hint of protest, they rise from beside me and walk out of the room. “That’s it?” I cry out, watching their retreating backs as that quiver of hysteria rises in me once more. “You’re just going to leave me here?”
“You’ll be fine,” Chelsea calls back over her shoulder. “Whatever happens next, I’m pretty sure you’ll like it. If not, I’m sure you’ll learn to like it.”
“ Lastochka ,” Grigori murmurs, a hint of malice on his tongue.
“I don’t think this was out of turn, Master. She hasn’t descended into madness. There was no crying, wailing, or gnashing of teeth. If I’m wrong, my backside will pay the price.”
The grin she gives him is nothing short of lascivious. Obviously, she’s meaning it in a sexual manner. Unbidden all the videos, images, and articles I researched after seeing Doctor Andrew come flooding into my mind, setting my teeth on edge and causing my body to burn hot from head to toe.
Even now, even when I know tonight will probably change my life forever, my clit throbs as my body hums with unmet need. There’s a dark promise in Dean Anderson’s eyes, and I hope to god he actually acts on the depraved thoughts I see lurking behind his stoney expression.
Because, honestly, what else have we been doing? It would be na?ve to think he didn’t take any pleasure in beating my ass. Before tonight, I was able to dismiss it, thinking I was the only one who felt these forbidden flames lapping between us. Seeing him here, in what I can assume is his element... There’s no denying it.
He’s a kinky mother fucker, and if I’m lucky, I’ll finally be at the end of his wrath. Perhaps now he can teach me what it means to be owned by another, to give my body to them heart and soul as they pour their lusts into every pore, every inch, every fucking molecule of me.
I want that more than anything. I need, crave, yearn to be wanted, desired, and cherished. Not because I’m a Hartwell, but because I’m theirs. Not because I can extend some godforsaken lineage that means fuck all, but because I’m the air they breathe, I’m their heartbeat, and I’m their plaything.
Owned.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
All or nothing.
Standing there, I do my best to convey these muddled thoughts to him, to explain without words the deep, bone-aching need that courses through my veins. Moments go by as silence fills the gap between us until he smiles.
That’s it. No words. No actions. Just a smile. But dear god that smile seems to say everything I want to hear.
“You’ve done a very naughty thing tonight, Ashleigh,” he breathes as he steps in closer. “And I think you know that. I think you wanted to get caught. You wanted me to see you there kneeling as if you belong.”
“Well, actually-“
“Do not speak while I’m speaking to you. That will probably be the first and hardest rule you will have to learn. Your mouth and your interfering ways will be second.”
Whether it’s nerves or not, I’ll never know, but in that moment, all I can do is shake as laughter seeps through my lips despite my efforts to hold it back. “And you would have gotten away with it if not your meddling reporter.”
His lips seem to twitch despite himself as he fights a smile and loses. “Actually, if it wasn’t for the meddling of a certain doctor, we all might have gotten away with it. But what’s done is done. Now, it’s time you face the consequences.”
A fierce flutter ripples through my gut, driving me to the brink of madness. This is what I wanted. Right?"
“Trust me,” he continues, striding forward until he’s so close I can feel the heat of his skin wash over me, heating me up from the inside out. “You wanted this,” he breathes, as if he can somehow read my mind. “In the end, you would have found yourself here at my mercy.”
“Yes,” I manage to murmur. Only, to my ears, it sounds suspiciously like a moan.
If he hears it, however, he makes no mention. Instead, he motions toward the door in a grand sweeping motion. “You have two choices before you. One. You leave here and forget everything. The Loftry Lantern becomes null and void, and you will never again find yourself over my desk for any reason. All office visits will be supervised by someone other than Shelaine or another member of The Society.”
Fuck. That option is horrible. Forget the idea of never being able to write for the school paper again. If I can’t see Dean Anderson, if I can’t feel his rough hands on my body, I don’t know how I’m going to survive. Dramatic, I know, but the time for being sane has flown out the window.
“And option two?”
“Ahhhh,” he chuckles. “Not fond of the first I see. Well then, my little fae adjacent. Option two is that you run through my hedge maze. And if I catch you... And I will catch you... I will fuck your sweet little pussy and make you an official Society submissive.”
Again, my breath catches in my throat. This. This is what I’ve been wanting, what I’ve been craving. The only problem is, I don’t want to disappoint him. I don’t want him thinking I’m some sex goddess, only to find I know absolutely nothing beyond the basics.
“Let’s just say I go for option two,” I hedge, noting the flare of lust burning in his eyes. “What if you’re... disappointed in my performance? Does that negate things? Will I still belong to you?”
His fingers leave a fiery trail over my skin as he brushes them down my cheek and neck to rest there for a moment before curling around the smooth column. “My sweet, na?ve little brat. You are under a massive misapprehension. You think I’m going to allow you to be an active participant in this? You don’t get off that easily. I’ll be the one doing the fucking, and you’ll be the one taking it like a good girl. Or maybe like a naughty girl. Makes no difference to me.”
My knees knock together as I contemplate the options. Though, truthfully, what is there to fully contemplate? I can’t lose the Lantern. But more than that, I can’t lose him. The ramifications slam into me as I gaze up into his implacable face. Either way, after tonight, nothing will be the same again.
“I choose option number two.”
“Good fucking girl. Follow me.”
As I trail behind him, the other men follow after. It’s as if they think I’m suddenly going to be a flight risk. But then, it’s not as if they can read my mind and know that I want this. It’s not like I’m going to tell them that either.
“If I may be the voice of reason,” Doctor Andrew butts in. “It’s grown rather cool outside. Perhaps you can have your little love romp in here where she won’t get sick?”
“What are you most concerned about, Andrew? That she’ll get sick? Or that you’ll be uncomfortable at your post?”
His insolent harrumph as he yanks his jacket out a small closet brings a smile to my lips.
“Besides,” the dean continues. “I’ll be warming her up soon enough.” As we get to the door, he turns and levels his gaze at me. “Last chance. Think you can survive me?”
When he talks, self-preservation seems to fly out the fucking window. The sane, rational part of me, the part that brought me to Loftry in the first place, screams at me to take the easy way out. It begs me not to bait the man who will strip me of my innocence and drag me into this dark, strange, and forbidden world.
I can’t listen to that side. I won’t listen to that side. Even if I didn’t want to fuck this pillar of scholarly acumen, I’d still want to know why the Chi Sigma Delta sorority left their house in the dead of night. I’d still want to know about the things I read and researched, but most of all, I can’t turn down a story.
Father always said to trust my gut. A Hartwell always knows when to move forward and when to stay behind. Right now, everything within me is telling me in the loudest voice ever to find out everything I can about this secret society and the man heading it up. The man I want to fuck with an equally as loud part of me.
“Ashleigh,” he growls. “My patience with you is wearing impossibly thin. Last. Fucking. Chance.”
The smile creeping up my lips is nothing short of masochistic glee. Finally, I’ll be able to fully understand everything. He might not be a teacher at Loftry anymore, but he will certainly fill in the gaps of my carnal education. “Bring your worst.”
With a swift jerk of his head, he opens a door that leads to the outside. Bright lights shine from up above, illuminating the hedge maze. How have I never seen this before? It must be so bright as to be seen from campus.
“Won’t others see?”
For a moment, he stares at me as if offended. “Do you honestly think I didn’t consider that? Tell me, inquisitive one. When you came out this way, what did you pass?”
“I mean, the sports fields. But-“
“And after that?”
For a moment, I sit and think, doing my best to cudgel my mind into working when the only part of me that seems to want to work is my pussy. “The tennis courts?”
“Good girl,” he praises, causing said pussy to clench in need. “And what happens to get lit up every night and stay lit until the daytime so anyone can practice as needed?”
Finally, my brain clicks into gear. “The tennis court lights. I see. Anyone looking this way will just assume it’s that. But what about those actually playing tennis?”
The smug smile that crosses his lips nearly drives me to my knees. “Each court has high nets to catch any balls. At least, that’s what they think it is. But they’re dark enough that you can’t see through them. And the trees around here are just tall enough that you can easily think you’ve just missed one of the courts. Until you, we’ve never had a problem with staying hidden.”
His words end on a growl as he slides his hand around my throat and guides me to a nearby wall. The rough stone digs into my back as I stare at him in wonder. Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, he closes his hand even tighter, choking me just to the point where the air becomes just a touch harder to inhale.
The butterflies swarm again, making my vision swim as he leans in closer. The heat from his breath stirs the small hairs around my ear, making every inch of me tremble in anticipation of this depraved unknown.
“You put yourself into grave danger sneaking in here tonight. Though you’ll probably enjoy it when I fuck you, I’ll make sure you never forget just how fucking terrified you made me as I saw you across the room. If you thought my cane was bad, you are in for a rude awakening. Each time you sit, you will think of me. Each time you so much as get the bright idea to pull a stunt like this again, I’ll make sure you regret it. As of now, I consider you my property, and I don’t take kindly to any possession of mine being put into harm’s way.”
This time, I don’t even hide the soft moan as it drifts from my lips and peppers the air. To be owned, to be possessed, to be wanted. This is all I’ve ever desired, and it’s what I’m going to get. Even if I have to go through hell first, I’ll come through it belonging to this man who makes my very soul sing with just one heated glance.
“Run, my property,” he whispers in my ear. “And do make it hard for me. I so very much want to savor this, to enjoy the chase.”