Chapter 9
Sadie
“Idon’t understand,” I say, blinking up at Lucan.
My knees ache, the marble floor cold through the fabric of my socks.
The order he gave me makes no sense. I must’ve misheard. Of all things, why would he tell me to do that?
The erection in his pants is difficult to ignore, straining against the zipper like it possesses a hunger of its own.
The more I try not to think about his cock, the more I do. How it’s right there and huge and engorged with blood. Its glaring proximity floods my body with terror, but also something unfamiliar. Exhilaration, maybe.
When Lucan speaks, his voice thrums deep in my stomach.
“What part don’t you understand?”
His icy-ocean eyes regard me as though he does this every day. Having a woman kneel at his feet mustn’t be a new sensation for him.
“You want me to sit on the table?” I repeat. “That’s your order?”
He grunts. “So you did understand.”
The table is low, made of thick glass, and that’s about it.
Confusion cuts through my anxiety. Why the hell does he want me to sit on it? Will the glass break, engulfing me in shards?
He can’t be that cruel, can he?
“That’s it?” I ask.
“Not quite. You must sit there for ten minutes.” A shadow crosses his sharp, handsome features. “And you’ll remove your underwear first.”
He flicks a switch on a discreet panel on the wall. The black-glass platform beneath the table lights up, and I realize it’s not actually black glass.
It’s a mirror.
“Oh god,” I choke out. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he says.
“You want me to sit on the glass table, above a mirror? With no underwear on?”
“Yes.”
“But you’ll see everything.”
His eyes gleam as if he’s enjoying every moment of my horror. “That’s the idea.”
“No fucking way. Sick creep.”
“Sure. You can refuse.” He pauses, filling me with dread. “But if you fail this order, you owe me another three in its place. It’s your choice.”
“Some choice.”
My mind spools through possibilities, searching for an escape.
I could leave. Just get up and walk out of here. Never look back.
The rules are made up anyway. All rules are, when you think about it.
But then what? I sit in my dorm room, never doing anything out of the ordinary? Maybe even leave Darkbloom because I don’t belong? I would have to try to forget my wondrous, terrifying glimpse of this world.
I’ll never forget though. I would always wish I’d been braver, because as long as I’m at Darkbloom, I have a chance of reaching the life of my dreams. If I go back, I have nothing.
Professor Worthington’s chant repeats in my head.
Abandon safeness, all ye who enter, and watch how you thrive!
The professor probably didn’t mean showing my pussy and ass to a billionaire’s heir, but it would definitely count as branching out.
If I obey the order, what’s the worst outcome? Lucan has something over me? He acts like he has something over me anyway, so this won’t make much difference.
I take a deep breath. “If I say yes, what would you do?”
“Watch,” he says.
My stomach flips.
“What if the table breaks?” I ask.
“It won’t.” He offers his hand. “You have your order. Now get up.”
Ignoring his outstretched hand, I climb to my feet. His tongue clicks like he expected it.
Now that I’m standing, I can’t look at his face. I feel exposed already, my palms and back breaking out in a light sweat.
Can I really do this?
Ten minutes is a long time.
“Okay,” I say before I can run for the door. “I’ll do it.”
Making a satisfied sound in his throat, Lucan takes his seat.
Unfortunately I became wet at some point while kneeling before him. What the hell?
The cotton of my underwear clings to my pussy’s increasing slickness. Wanting to hide this new, unwelcome development from him, I resist squirming.
My hands and feet tingle from my uneven breathing. Closing my eyes, I inhale slowly through my nose and hold.
I can do this.
Just pretend he’s not here. Ignore him. After this, I will owe him nothing.
On the exhale, I slip my hands under my skirt. My heart beats so hard I think he might hear it.
Leaning forward slightly, I hook my thumbs under the band of my underwear. I bite my lip, hesitating.
What if he sees my wetness on the fabric? I don’t want him thinking he did that. Even though he kind of did, with his deep voice and almost lazy commands. His forceful aura and monstrous cock. My body just hasn’t gotten the memo that we hate him.
I whip down my underwear, crumple them up, and toss them at my bag. My ears ring and my head swims, like my soul’s trying to leave my body.
Am I really doing this?
The glass edge of the table bumps the backs of my knees. Stealing a glance at the sun-bright mirror under the table, I see my scared face looking back at me.
Why did I wear such a short skirt? The plaid won’t cover me.
But if I wore a longer skirt, he would’ve ordered me to take it off too. He let me keep the skirt on because he knows he’ll still see everything.
I expect him to hurry me. Yet he just sits back watching me like he has all the time in the world, while I try not to hyperventilate.
The longer I stand here, the further I am from freedom. My underwear is already gone. I should just complete the order and move on with my life.
I lower my ass onto the table, my hands pressing against the glass to steady myself.
My skin makes contact and I inhale sharply. The tabletop is freezing cold against my bare, flaming entrance.
Blood thunders in my ears. I try to get comfortable, but it’s impossible. My thighs and ass spread against the glass with nowhere to hide.
I can’t look down at the mirror and I can’t look at him. I can’t bear it. Scrunching my face, I settle for staring at the ceiling and suppressing a whimper.
“Good,” comes the quiet rumble of Lucan’s voice. “Our ten minutes have begun.”
The way he says our makes my face burn hotter. It sounds intimate, which I resent. I’m only doing this for the sake of tradition and refilling my creative well.
The unyielding cold glass beats against my tender skin like ice, even as the heat of my blood courses through my body. I hate the hot feeling, because it means he’ll see my pussy blushing harder.
Lucan watching me is horrible, yet something about the agony of exposing myself sends a potent surge of electricity through my core.
This arrogant bully who thinks he owns the world is looking at my pink folds trapped against glass, and I’m letting him. It’s so completely messed up.
My pussy throbs like a little traitor. Wondering if he can tell, I grit my teeth to stop myself from shifting around.
From the corner of my eye, I see him move.
Immediately, I’m on high alert.
“What are you doing?” I ask in a tight whisper.
He prowls toward me as he did in the forest. As though he’s about to take something from me. I feel stuck, like I’m glued to the table.
Lucan crouches in front of me. He’s close enough that I can smell hair conditioner and cinnamon gum along with his cologne.
He’s not touching me though. Strictly speaking, he’s doing nothing wrong.
Meeting his eye feels impossible. I send my gaze sideways, though my fast breathing betrays my heightened state.
I’ve never done anything like this before. With Chace, my first and only boyfriend from high school, I turned off the lights when we hooked up. Even when we were hanging out and I wanted to change outfits, I made him leave the room.
Lucan’s voice is husky. “How does it feel to show me your pretty little pink cunt?”
I die inside. He really can see everything.
“Cold,” I whisper.
Since I’m certain he’s staring at my pussy in the mirror, I steal a look at him.
But he’s focused on my face, his deadly blue eyes intently studying whatever it is he sees there.
“Cold?” he repeats, making my stomach drop.
His hand extends, moving under the table between my tensed thighs.
My pulse races so fast I worry I’ll pass out. I feel faint pressure as he plants his palm on the glass over my pussy.
“What are you—” I breathe.
“Not touching you,” he says.
“May as well be.”
Lucan’s hand is less than half an inch from my bare skin on a mere technicality.
His body heat melts through the glass, making contact with my entrance.
Lucan continues studying my face, like he’s determined to catalogue my every breath and expression.
“Nine minutes,” he mutters.
My brows knit. “Nine?”
I thought at least five minutes had passed, and even that felt like an eternity.
Bowing my head, I try to slow my thundering pulse and thoughts, but I can’t. The heat builds in my core, giving my pussy a heartbeat of its own.
Then Lucan starts drumming his damn fingers against the glass. Each vibration dances on my slick entrance, sending tiny bolts of electricity through my clit.
No. We didn’t agree to this.
This is going too far.
It’s gone too far.
I can’t let him toy with me, even if it feels good. He’ll think he can do anything to me.
My breath comes out fast. “Stop!”
As soon as I shout the word, my desire to leave is overwhelming.
I can’t breathe or think.
I have to get out of here.
Rising from the table, I shove past him. I expect him to grab me, but he lets me pass.
Maybe he already got what he wanted and doesn’t care what I do now.
Without another look at Lucan, I snatch up my bag. All I want is to breathe fresh air and be free of his paralyzing energy.
I weave around the tables and push through the door.
Like Lucan, the bouncer gives me space. The man doesn’t seem remotely surprised when I run down the hallway to the front door.
Maybe I’m not the first distressed woman to flee from Altar.
Bursting through the front door, I gulp crisp air like I’ve been holding my breath since I entered the place.
Lucan’s a total pervert.
He’s vile and entitled and I never, ever want to see him again.