Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
I fled the library before either of them could say more, my skirts gathered in my fists as though I were being chased. Perhaps, in a way, I was. Not by them. Not now. But by their words. By the heat they'd lit inside me.
They wanted to instruct me.
On how to touch myself.
The indecency of it burned in my ears. Yet worse... far worse... was the way the thought lingered, curling low in my belly like an ember I couldn't stamp out.
I shut myself in my suite and pressed my back against the door, palms flat against the wood. Surely they had been jesting.
Testing me.
Trying to see how far they could push before I fled screaming back to the Transvaal.
But no. Their expressions were far too serious.
They had meant it.
And god help me, a shameful part of me wanted them to.
Two days later, I dared to emerge. I had continued to take my meals as they'd instructed, even if every bite tasted of sawdust. My nerves were stretched thin, but confinement had its own kind of madness.
And so, late in the afternoon, I crept down to the drawing room, telling myself that perhaps they were out riding, and I could have a few quiet moments with a book.
I should have known better.
"Lisa."
The sound of my name rolled down my back like warm honey, and I froze. Leighton stood by the hearth, hands in his pockets, his scar lit by the fire's glow but his smile still as devastating as ever.
Magnus leaned against the mantle beside him, arms crossed, his dark gaze settling on me as though I had already disobeyed some unspoken order.
My throat tightened. "I was merely looking for something to read."
Leighton's smile deepened, kind but unrelenting. "Is that so? You're not out here hoping to run into us?"
"That does sound plausible," Mangus finished, his voice low, rough.
I lifted my chin, summoning what little defiance I had left. "And if I say you're both delusional?"
Magnus's mouth curved in something that was not quite a smile. "Then you're lying, little filly."
Heat flared in my cheeks, furious at being seen through so easily. "You think you know me, know everything. But you don't. Can you even begin to imagine how terrified I am by what you suggested? Do you even understand what you're asking of me?"
Leighton stepped forward, his eyes softening as though he would coax a wild bird to his hand.
"We understand perfectly, Lisa, love. And we'll go no further than you allow.
But you do want to learn, don't you? You are curious, aren't you sweet girl?
Don't lie now. Be a good girl and tell your Daddies the truth. "
My body betrayed me before my lips could form a denial, a sharp ache pulsing low in my belly at the thought of them guiding me. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to shake my head. "If I let you... if I... did such things, what's to say you won't lose all your respect for me?"
"Ah," Magnus's eyes gleamed, predatory. He pushed off the mantle, slow and deliberate, like a wolf uncoiling from rest. "There's no chance of that happening, little filly."
The silence pressed in on me, thicker than the velvet curtains drawn across the windows. I stood by the chaise like a schoolgirl awaiting punishment, fingers twisting in my skirts.
Magnus sat down in the leather chair as though it were a throne, broad shoulders sprawled, dark eyes locked on me. Leighton lounged at his side, deceptively relaxed, though the sharp focus in his gaze left no doubt I had all his attention.
I licked my lips, my throat parched. "You can't truly expect me to..." The words trailed off.
"We do." Magnus's voice cut through, firm but absolute. "It's time to listen to your Daddies."
A shiver ran down my spine, and I felt an ache in my most forbidden core and that naughty word.
Leighton leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his tone softer but no less dominating.
"No one will touch you, love. Not me. Not Magnus.
That way, no one can claim you've been compromised or ruined.
" His smile was coaxing, wicked and tender.
"All you have to do is let us guide you. Show you how good it can be."
My pulse thundered in my ears.
"Let us see you, little filly."
"See?" The word was barely more than a croak.
Leighton nodded. "Every flicker of desire across your face. Every shiver in your body." Leighton's gaze swept over me like a caress. "You'll learn what pleases you, and we'll learn how to please you even better once you allow us full access."
I swallowed hard, a nervous giggle bubbling in my throat. "You make it sound so easy and simple."
Mangus rose slowly, and moved to me. He stopped right in front of me, but didn't touch me, even though the heat of him seemed to burn through my gown and scorched my skin. "It is simple, little filly. You'll do as we say. Or would you like a reminder on how I will handle defiance?"
Another shiver ran through me, equal parts fear and need. I shook my head, but my voice betrayed me, trembling. "I don't even know where to begin."
Leighton stood now too, moving to my other side. The two of them caged me in without a single touch, their presence nearly overwhelming.
"You don't need to know, love," he said gently, though his eyes gleamed with unspoken desire. "You'll listen. You'll obey. And when you're ready, you'll discover just how sweet your own touch can be."
Magnus inclined his head toward the chaise. "Sit, Lisa."
I hesitated a fraction too long, my heart thrumming like a frightened bird's wings, until his sharp, commanding look had me sinking down into the cushions before I could even think to resist.
My palms flattened against the silk, my breath shallow. Their gazes on me were heavy and expectant.
"Good girl," Leighton murmured, the words sending a rush of heat to my cheeks.
"Now..." Magnus growled. "Show us those hands."
I lifted my hands, palms open, trembling. They looked ordinary enough. Roughened from years of working on the farm, but well tended and cared for. But in the moment, they felt foreign. Like they belonged to someone else.
Leighton crouched before me, his scar catching the light, his smile easy but his eyes sharp as a blade.
He took one of my hands, turning it over as though studying something precious.
“These,” he said softly, brushing his thumb across my knuckles, “will do more for you than you’ve ever imagined. Trust me.”
“Trust him,” Magnus echoed from behind me, his tone firm, leaving no room for refusal. His presence loomed at my back, heavy, grounding. “But first—look at us.”
I raised my eyes, only to be caught between them. Leighton’s warmth, Magnus’s command. A trap I didn’t want to escape.
Magnus’s voice slid down my spine. “Now, take one hand to your skirts. Slowly. Don’t rush. Let us see.”
Every nerve in my body screamed at me to stop, to protest—but my fingers twitched downward. My pulse skittered.
“I can’t—”
“You can.” Leighton’s interruption was gentle, but there was no mistaking the iron beneath it. His hand lingered near mine, not touching, only guiding. “You’ve been so brave already, Lisa. Let this be no different.”
Magnus leaned closer, his breath brushing my ear. “Or do you need me to order you again, little filly?”
The word order curled around my chest, tugging something taut inside me. I swallowed hard, then gathered my skirts in trembling fingers, inching them higher.
Leighton’s smile widened, coaxing. “Good girl. Just like that. Keep going.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, my ears, my very core. Their eyes—both of them—burned on me as though they could already see beneath the fabric. I wanted to snap, to tease, to protest, but the words tangled on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I obeyed, inch by inch, until cool air brushed against my thighs.
“Stop there.” Magnus’s command cracked the air, sharp and final.
My breath hitched. My skirts were bunched just above my knees. My pulse was wild, frantic.
Leighton leaned in closer, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “See? Not so terrifying, is it? You’ve already begun.”
I squeezed my thighs together, nerves a livewire. “And what… what happens next?”
Magnus’s low chuckle rumbled through the room. “Next, love, you learn how to please Daddy.”
The word Daddy lodged in my throat like a forbidden prayer, burning with both shame and want.