by Monica James
My cheeks blister. Even though they are merely lying there, it sets the mood for what’s about to come.
“Alek, you were right. She is exceptional,” a man says, sipping his drink as he devours me with his eyes. At a guess, I would say he’s in his 40’s and in great shape. His full head of groomed blond hair and baby blues would leave many admiring his good looks. But not me. He makes my skin crawl.
I’m too afraid to move when he stands. “I’m Oscar.” His accent is definitely Russian.
The other men watch on, and I do the same to them as I examine my enemies.
All are around the same age and look like doctors or businessmen—people you wouldn’t look twice at if you passed them on the street. However, Oscar stands out from the bunch, and that’s not a good thing. He reeks of authority, and by the way he looks at me, I think it’s safe to say he wants to assert that power over me.
“She’s shy,” Alek explains, making excuses for my suddenly clamming up.
Oscar nods, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “There is no need to be shy. We are all friends here.” He spreads his arms out wide, indicating Zoey’s lewdness is just a normal occurrence among acquaintances.
We are anything but friends, but I stay perfectly still when he walks toward me.
Alek watches carefully, but he doesn’t move. He allows Oscar to inch closer and closer. When we’re feet apart, he slowly reaches for my hand. My instinct is to recoil, but I refuse to cower in fear. He draws my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, observing me attentively. His breath is warm, too warm.
“Is she housebroken?” he asks Alek, his mouth lingering on my skin.
Offended, I take back my hand and narrow my eyes.
In response, he laughs hoarsely. “Oh, Alek, I envy you. She is a treat.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’m not a fucking delicacy, but the world stops spinning when heavy footsteps announce someone’s arrival. Every fiber in my body prickles in awareness because he’s here—he’s really here.
Unable to stop myself, I turn over my shoulder quickly, and everything quiets for just a fraction in time. Saint appears stunned to see me but soon recovers. He wears his hair tied back, but it’s still not long enough for all of it to be held back, so some lose strands fall free, framing his chiseled cheeks. His beard has also grown.
He looks all the more rugged and wayward, standing here in all black, but that could just be the pissed-off look he sports when he sees Oscar standing near me. I want to go to him, but I don’t.
Oscar soon forgets about me as he zeroes in on Saint. “Well, hello. Where have you been hiding?”
Something shifts, and the room drops about a hundred degrees.
I watch with interest as something comes over Oscar. He seems…spellbound by Saint. I don’t understand what I’m seeing because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was more excited by Saint’s arrival than by the three naked ladies who lay feet away.
Saint ignores Oscar’s quip and walks over to Alek. “Everything taken care of?” Alek asks. Saint nods in response while I gulp.
What has he done?
Alek claps once, clearly excited by the news. “Oscar was just asking about aнгел.”
Saint trains his gaze on me slowly. How is it possible he can set me alight with a look alone?
“He asked if she was housebroken,” he continues with a wave of his hand while Saint’s jaw clenches. “I didn’t have a chance to explain your situation.”
“What situation?” Oscar asks, his interest piqued.
Too afraid to make a noise, I keep my breathing shallow.
The other men at the table are clearly not interested in the conversation and have decided to join the three women on the couch. When one of them bends low to suckle the brunette’s nipple, I instantly look away.
“Saint was the one who brought her to me, and because of this, he seems to be the only one who can…control her. Well, for now anyway.”
Oscar turns to look at me, grinning sinisterly. “I am utterly intrigued.” His ravenous look makes me feel sick, and I shrink away, afraid of what he’ll do.
“Would you like to see?” Alek’s tone is smug as though he’s showing off a new car to friends.
“You never disappoint,” Oscar replies, walking over to the poker table and taking a seat, clearly ready for a demonstration.
“Saint?” Alek says, hinting they’re waiting, but he doesn’t move. Saint continues to stare at me, undressing me with those hypnotic green eyes. The explosive moment between us causes everything inside me to combust into a million tiny pieces.
He clears his throat and walks toward me slowly. I don’t move a muscle because the closer he gets, the faster my heart beats. My memory has done a poor job remembering him because when he stops in front of me, it’s like I’m seeing him for the first time.
And when he speaks, everything collides into me, and I inhale, needing the oxygen to feed my deprived lungs. “Kneel, aнгел. By my side.”
Without question, I do what he asks.
It’s sensory overload as my body needs this—I need to be close to him, to obey him. I know how sick that sounds, but I can’t help it.
Oscar squeals and claps excitedly, but he can go to hell because when Saint reaches down and runs his fingers through my hair, everything else fades into the background. I’ve craved his touch. I’ve craved him. I can’t help the mewl that escapes me as I lean into his caresses.
We are facing both Alek and Oscar, and I know how this looks—like the good submissive, kneeling by her master’s feet—but truth be told, being here is the safest I’ve felt in days. Saint continues stroking my hair, and even though the parallels can be seen between this and how Alek strokes Zoey when she kneels at his feet, this is different.
Alek owns Zoey, and his touch is one of control, ownership. But the way Saint touches me—his caresses are filled with nothing but…love. And that fact has tears filling my eyes.
“I want her to meet my Dominic and Ingrid,” Oscar says, ruining the moment. I don’t know why, but something shifts between Alek and Oscar.
It feels as if Oscar is challenging Alek in some sense. Why?
Alek is soon to settle the mood. “Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea. I was going to host a party in her honor. A masquerade ball maybe? When the time is right, I will unveil my девственница. The suspense is the best kind of foreplay.”
Oscar almost falls off his seat. “What? It can’t be.”
Alek’s victorious grin is all the answer Oscar needs. My virginity is clearly something to celebrate.
“You lucky bastard. She is ripe for the picking.” Oscar runs his tongue over his thick bottom lip, watching Saint and me.
I huddle closer to Saint who places his hand at the back of my neck. His thumb circles over my racing pulse. His touch calms me until Oscar speaks.
“I would give anything to see you break her in.” The protruding at the front of Oscar’s pants reveals just how much so. “Actually, I think a few of us would. How much?”
Alek blinks once as it seems Oscar has caught him off guard.
“What’s the matter? Friends share, do they not?” This is personal for Oscar. What did Alek do?
There doesn’t seem to be an option for Alek, which has me thinking he owes Oscar for something. “I think we can come to an agreement where everyone wins.”
Saint’s body hums with violence while I attempt to decipher what the hell is going on.
“Excellent. I will await your conditions then. This will be quite the show. I haven’t seen a девственная жертва in so very long.”
I have no idea what he just said, but I know it can’t be good.
Pleasured moans cut through the room, alerting us to the tangled bodies on the sofa. I can only imagine what this does to Saint to see Zoey spread open as a stranger feasts on her. She is barely conscious, but he doesn’t mind.
Oscar unbuckles his belt
as his insatiable eyes watch this orgy unfold. I clutch my cross, needing an anchor to some form of purity. Alek walks over to the sofa, unbuttoning his shirt as it seems he’s not interested in being a voyeur tonight.
Is this what my future holds?
My immediate future, however, is saved. “Alek, I’m taking aнгел to her room.” Alek barely hears Saint and dismisses him with a quick flick of his hand.
When his broad back comes into view, Saint yanks me up. I exhale, but it’s in vain. “I can’t wait to see if you blush all over.”
When I see Oscar working his thick cock in his hand, I reveal that I do because my cheeks burst into flames. However, my embarrassment shifts because what I see next leaves me confused, but most of all, it has me wanting to rip out Oscar’s eyes.
Instead of gaping at the lewd scene just feet away, Oscar has directed his attention on Saint and is using him as jerk-off material. Focusing on him, Oscar pumps his dick and groans when he eats Saint up from head to toe.
I am speechless. This is too much.
Saint hurriedly escorts me from the room, never looking back. I can barely keep up as he drags me down the hallway, his breathing getting heavier and heavier the farther away we go. He is shaking in rage and all I want to do is console him, but when we pass my bedroom door, I realize it’ll have to wait.
I have no idea where we’re going. I can only hope out the front door.
When we get to a door at the end of the hall, and Saint bursts through it, I exhale because everything in here reeks of him. I don’t have a chance to speak however because the moment the door closes, Saint wraps his arms around me, and with violent delight, he presses me into his chest. I go willingly, losing myself to him, crying happy tears.
I clutch him tightly, but it’s still not close enough. I want our bodies to become one. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his lips pressed to the top of my head. “I didn’t want to shoot you.”
“Shh.” I hush him because I understand. I don’t want to talk. I just want to cherish this moment of being lost in his arms. Everything falls silent, and I surrender.
We both need the connection as Saint holds me tightly, inhaling my scent and humming contentedly. “I wanted to come see you,” he explains.
“It doesn’t matter. Alek had me drugged anyway. I wouldn’t have known if you were there.”
A growl escapes him. “I told Sara to watch over you. I am so fucking sorry, Willow.”
Each time he uses my name, he alleviates some weight inside, and I feel like I can breathe. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
“All of this is,” he corrects with nothing but regret as he wraps his body around mine.
We stay this way for minutes. Truth be told, I could stay like this forever, but nothing lasts forever.
“We’re in here, in my room because it’s one of the only places that doesn’t have a camera. That’s why I couldn’t come see you. Alek would have seen.”
“What?” With great sadness, I slowly break our embrace. I instantly miss his warmth.
He peers down at me with nothing but defeat overshadowing him. “This entire place is bugged and has hidden surveillance cameras. We have to be careful.”
“So even when Alek isn’t in my room, he or someone else is watching?”
Saint nods with a sigh. “Twenty-four seven. You are being watched.”
This just goes from bad to fucking diabolical.
Needing to sit, I stagger over to the foot of the king-sized bed and slump onto it. “If only Zoey hadn’t woken up, we wouldn’t be here,” I mumble to myself, staring at a spot on the floor.
Thoughts of her and the night on the yacht have me remembering Saint’s story.
“You sacrificed her to save me. Thank you.” I slowly meet his eyes, wishing I could say and do more.
“I promised you your freedom, and I don’t intend on breaking that promise,” he replies, but regardless of the fact that Saint is a man who sticks by his word, I know he did this because he cares.
“What is девственная жертва?” I ask, trying my best to pronounce what Oscar said to Alek.
Saint’s nostrils flare. “It means…virgin sacrifice.”
“Oh my god,” I gasp, covering my mouth in horror. “He intends to”—I pause, needing to gather my words—“to what? Have sex with me in front of people? At this masquerade ball?”
Saint looks about ready to punch the wall as he squeezes his clenched fists. “Yes.”
Not only is that barbaric, but it’s also horrific. But these people are a different breed. “Who are The Circle?”
My question has caught him by surprise. He shakes his head firmly, suggesting I drop it.
But I won’t. “Tell me.”
When he reads my determination, he levels me with nothing but sincerity, and reveals, “They are the most powerful, most wealthy people in all of Europe. They are your lawyers. Doctors. They are untouchable because no one would ever believe upstanding citizens would engage in the heinous things they do. They are bored with too much money to burn. They stick together, ensuring they never get caught because if one goes down, they all do. They are all sick, twisted individuals with an appetite for pain.”
“So I’m fucked?” I don’t see the point in being coy.
“No.” Saint rushes over and sits beside me. “This masquerade ball is your out.”
“How?” I laugh hysterically, skating close to the edge.
“Because a masquerade ball means anyone can be you.”
My maniacal laughter soon dies.
“There is a trapdoor—”
“In the kitchen. I know,” I interrupt, watching as Saint’s eyes widen.
“It shouldn’t surprise me that you know this,” he says with a hint of a grin. “Anyway, that door leads to the gardens. I will have someone waiting for you on the other side. I will disrupt the live feed to the cameras to give you a window to escape. It’ll be small, but it’ll be enough.”
The inevitable lingers. “Wh-what about you?” I can’t keep the fear from my tone.
He reaches for my hand and squeezes softly. “I will be here watching you on the cameras. Alek’s men won’t allow me in the control room unsupervised for too long. But I will do everything, everything in my power to keep you safe.”
“Saint—” But I can’t speak because tears replace my words.
“Don’t cry.” He wipes away my tears with his thumb. “This is the only way.”
“I-I…” I choke on my words, my heart shattering into two. “I can’t go without you.”
“You have to,” he presses, and his stern tone divulges this isn’t negotiable.
“I won’t,” I sob, shaking my head.
“Please, aнгел, let me do this. Let me make this right. I owe you this.”
“You owe me nothing! If you want to owe me anything, come with me.” Unable to control my emotions, I smash my lips to his, desperate to bridge this gap between us. I have survived this because of him, so the thought of doing it without him…I don’t know if I can.
“You don’t need me,” he says against my mouth, moaning when I bite his bottom lip.
But I do.
Threading my fingers through his hair, I tug hard, needing to anchor myself before I fade away. When our tongues duel desperately, I’m struck with an idea. “My virginity is the reason for all this,” I whisper between kisses. “But there is a solution.”
“And what’s that?” He melts in my mouth, affirming my thoughts.
Pushing my bashfulness aside, I slowly walk my fingers over to the front of Saint’s pants, rubbing over his bulge.
His eyes pop open as he pulls away. “No,” he firmly presses, gripping my wrist to stop me from touching him.
“It’s the only way,” I reason, attempting to set myself free. But Saint holds on tightly, exposing his thoughts on the matter. “Alek only wants me because I’m a virgin. He sees me as an even bigger conquest now. But if I’m not…”
&nbs
p; “If you’re not, then you’re as good as dead,” he counters with bite. “That’s the only thing keeping you alive.”
“You call this being alive?” My voice quivers as my desperation surfaces. “I won’t give myself to him willingly. But I will”— I nervously lick my trembling lips while Saint follows the action with longing —“to you.”
He hisses, recoiling as if my words have burned him. “Aнгел, no.”
I can’t help but feel rejected because this isn’t the first time he’s said no. However, I’m not deterred and forget my coyness. “Why not? I-I want you.”
He groans, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. “I can’t. Please understand.”
But no, I won’t.
Gripping his bicep, I force him to look at me, and when he does, my heart sinks with his. “I have already ruined your life. I won’t ruin this for you too.”
His response should remind me of all the horrors we’ve faced, but all it does is prompt me to remember how Saint has saved me in this fucked-up, cruel world. “You couldn’t,” I whisper, hoping my bravado stays strong. “I want my first time to be with someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” he scoffs angrily. “What’s that supposed to mean? A liar? A felon? A…killer?”
But he’s misunderstood.
“No.” With trembling fingers, I place my hand on his cheek. “Someone who steals my breath every time he enters the room. Someone who has sacrificed everything to ensure my safety. Someone who has invaded every inch of my soul.”
Saint gasps, clearly stunned by my revelation. “How can you forget everything I’ve done?”
“I can’t, and I won’t,” I reply, slowly crawling onto his lap and straddling him. “But it’s because of those things that I want you…all the more. You focus on the negative”—I lean down and gently kiss over his throat while he arches his head back with a groan—“while I refuse to dwell on the past. Which is why…we make a perfect pair.”
Saint hums low as I continue kissing and suckling the column of his neck. I’m in control, which is a rare thing, and I’ve never felt more powerful than I do right now. He falls back onto the mattress, taking me with him. He lifts the hem of my dress, caressing my thighs as I devour him.
