Chapter Sixteen #2
“Your uncomfortable case of blue balls?” Victor snickered.
“Yes, we’re getting to that.” Waving his arm at the gathered men, he said, “Here’s what’s going to happen.
Those interested in part-owning Ily will place their bids.
The highest bid wins. I’m afraid to inform you, Ward, but the winner will naturally have to claim his prize.
So...whoever pays the most will fuck her first.” He raised his arms in false surrender.
“Now, before you get all pissy with me, you still have my word she’s yours for the weekend.
Just because that first fuck is taken doesn’t mean you can’t have your fill.
However...” His brows came down, shadowing his eyes.
“Once the money clears from whoever buys her ownership stake, she will be theirs every night.”
“What’s the percentage of ownership?” Henri snapped.
“Seeing as I’m feeling gracious, let’s say...seventy-thirty. In my favour, of course.”
“Fifty-fifty.” Henri stiffened. “And I get to take her with me when I leave...providing I’m approved as a member.”
“Well, that’s asking far too much.” Victor’s temper appeared.
“For your cheek, it’s now eighty-twenty.
And that’s my final offer.” His smile was sly and snakish.
“She’s still yours until tomorrow, Henri, regardless of this outcome.
” His blue eyes shot to the crowd. “No one can say I’m not a man of my word. ”
“You’re an honourable gent!” Someone chuckled.
“No one can deny it.” Another raised his glass.
Victor bowed.
Henri muttered a curse under his breath.
“What did you say?” Victor snapped upright.
Gritting his teeth, Henri snarled, “Nothing. I said nothing. Apart from...five hundred thousand.”
My heart stopped.
Once again, he put a monetary figure on my body and life.
Just how much money does he have?
Cold snow settled on my shoulders.
You idiot, he doesn’t have any money.
He’s a public servant. He doesn’t have anywhere near that sort of cash.
Oh God...even if he bid and won, he wouldn’t be able to keep up the ruse.
Not unless he somehow transferred the promised funds to Victor.
How much longer until back-up arrives?
Surely, there was protocol to these things? Even if Victor’s scrambler had stopped Henri sending out a message, his team should have a Plan B, right? Something to fall back on in case they didn’t hear from him?
My fingertips tingled with lack of blood as I struggled in my hooked manacles. The urge to run ached in my legs, desperate to get far, far away.
Pressure built in my temples. The brightness of the sun made me feel faint. The lack of food and drink, the nonexistent sleep and safety...it all swirled and settled like suffocating fog.
“Six hundred thousand!” a tall man shouted. An exotic girl bowed at his feet.
Henri shot him a scowl.
Victor clapped a hand against his tumbler.
“Excellent. Great bids, my friends. Just to make the deal that little bit sweeter...whoever wins can fuck her immediately. Right here. Right now.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Why do you think she’s strung up like a sacrifice?
” Crossing the bridge and marching up the steps toward me, he ran his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Tied to a maypole, standing on wood. We could burn you like a witch. Bleed you like a hog. Or...fuck you like the succubus you are.” He pressed a doting kiss on my cheek.
It soaked into my system like venom, killing me from the inside out.
Swaying into me, Victor stroked my hair, his eyes almost wistful. “You truly are a stunning little thing, Ily. Tell me...what sort of name is that? Short for something? A nickname, perhaps?”
The urge to spit in his face overwhelmed me.
But then, I caught Henri’s shutdown stare over Victor’s shoulder, and everything he’d asked of me in the library returned.
Don’t fight.
Whatever you do...do not fight.
So...even though it cost me my dignity, even though I ignored every instinct, I didn’t.
I bowed my chin.
Became tame.
Played broken.
“Seven hundred thousand!”
I gasped as my eyes ripped to Roland’s beady ones.
No.
Literally anyone but that sadistic prick.
“Eight hundred,” Henri growled, stomping onto the bridge.
“Not another step. You stay where you are.” Victor moved to my side.
“No one is permitted up here until we’ve found our champion.
Tell me, boys. Who has the biggest hard-on for this delicious little creature?
Does anyone else have deeper pockets than my new friend here?
” He raised an eyebrow, scanning the jumble of men.
“Eight hundred and fifty thou!” a Middle Eastern man yelled.
“Getting closer.” Victor nodded solemnly. Flicking me a look, he sighed. “And what do you think, Ily? Is that a good figure or too low? Who would you pick to fuck you?”
I stiffened as his fingers stretched out—icy with dew from his ice-cube stuffed drink—and cupped my bare breast.
My eyes snapped closed.
The coldness of his touch felt like fire.
Leave.
Go.
Forget.
He fisted me, keeping me far too present.
Biting my bottom lip, I fought the urge to cry out as he crushed delicate tissues and wrenched my nipple with malicious glee.
I didn’t look at Henri.
I didn’t seek salvation in his stare.
He couldn’t stop this.
And I couldn’t ask him to.
“Nine hundred!” Roland offered, making my insides slither to my feet.
Bending into me, Victor suddenly pressed his ear to my mouth as if I whispered to him. He nodded dramatically before laughing like a deranged courtier.
My eyes flew open at his weirdness.
What the hell—?
The crowd shifted with frowns on their faces, most likely thinking the same thing.
“You know what, Ily? I quite agree.” Victor let my breast go and tipped his chin at the men.
“Ily just said it’s only fair to show her yours while you stare at hers.
” Taking a large swallow of his drink, he commanded, “Those bidding on my jewel, put your hands where your money is. Show my pretty gem what she’ll be getting. ”
A fresh wave of horror shot down my spine as the five men currently bidding all stepped forward and formed a line ringing the moat separating the dais.
One by one, they stripped.
Buttons undone, shirts off, shoes kicked, trousers and shorts unzipped, and boxers...
I gulped as five men tore off their underwear and tossed them onto the grass.
Not a single man was soft.
Five cocks hung stiff and angry between hairy thighs. Some short and fat, some long and narrow, all of them disgusting because they belonged to rapists.
The chain jangled above my head as I lost control and fought.
Rage crested through me.
Impotent rage.
Helpless rage.
I wanted to wrench off every single offending appendage and run.
Run!
Victor snickered. “Ah, look at that, gentlemen. You’ve made her horny. Perhaps I should just let all of you fuck her? Eager beaver that she is.”
I’d never hated someone so violently. So completely.
I’m going to kill you.
Somehow. Someway.
I’m going to kill you all.
“Hell yes.” A man grunted, cupping himself. “I haven’t enjoyed a good ole’ gangbang in months.”
I went ice, ice cold.
No...
“I’m in, as long as I’m not unlucky number five.” Another laughed. “Whoever goes last will feel like he’s thrusting into man slime with how much jizz will be up there.”
A round of awful guffaws sounded.
I didn’t look for Henri. I didn’t expect him to leap to my defence.
We both walked such a thin, thin line. The tiniest filament of thread that could snap at any moment.
“Stop the auction, Vic, and let us break her in for you.” A man with a bald head raised his glass. “We could all have a taste.”
My heart skipped, unable to find its right rhythm. It seemed terror was the only beat it knew.
Shuddering, I did my best to shut down as Victor leaned closer and ran his fingertip over my cheek. “Would you like that, Ily? Five men? Twenty men? Fifty? One after another, taken over and over again until you’ve serviced all of us? It would definitely be an initiation into your new life.”
I yanked my face from his touch.
I wanted to tell him to burn in hell. That eventually he would face his karma, but he chuckled and dropped his hand down the length of my body.
“Let’s see what you think of the idea, hmm?
” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Shall we see how wet you are knowing there’s a crowd of men all hard and aching for you? ”
Before I could react.
Before I could shut down or protect the part of me that would shatter, Victor kicked my ankles, spread my tippy-toe stance, and plunged his hand between my legs.
A part of me broke.
I heard the crack.
I felt the giving of something I would never be able to fix.
Tears that I vowed I’d never shed in Henri’s presence gushed, welled, and spilled.
I didn’t make a sound. Didn’t fight or kick or struggle.
I couldn’t.
It was the single most demoralising, disheartening, distressing thing of my life as his fingers probed, found, and entered.
I jerked.
“Slippery little thing, aren’t ya?” He chuckled. “Seems you rather like the idea. Perhaps we’ll have to fulfil it...once I’ve wrung every cent I can from you.” He licked my cheek. “I’m tempted to make a bid myself. To lay claim to this sweet little cunt.”
His fingers spread me.
I flinched as he speared deeper.
The natural moisture of my body and the desire Henri had conjured utterly condemned me.
I hung in my cuffs as another crack sounded, another fissure, another break deep within.
“Tight, but not a virgin,” Victor whispered, his breath laced with sweet fumes of brandy. “Pity but not unexpected.”
His touch was grotesque.
Repugnant.
Vile.
Two fingers became three.
I clamped down on my tongue.
I choked on my screams.
Crashing, crippling horror crested.
Every organ perished. Every bone shattered. Tears suffocated, threatening to sweep me away in a river of panic.
Please...
Please, stop—
Moments.
I was moments away from—
“Two million in whatever fucking currency you want. Two million to get your motherfucking fingers out of what is mine.”
Silence fell.
Everyone froze.