by Gemma James
I don’t feel innocent anymore. I’m wanton with sin, wrecked by lust. An accusing pang attacks my heart because I’m not being honest with myself.
Lust could turn into more.
I could grow to love him, and that scares me more than anything he could do to me on a physical level.
He yanks the sheer cups of the negligee down, and his thumbs brush over my nipples. “Touch yourself like you did in the tub yesterday.”
“You’re giving me permission?”
“To touch, yes.” He veers back and holds me captive in his stare. “Not to come.” He pushes my hand between us, urging me to dip my fingers beneath the barrier of scant panties.
A moan slips free, and our eyes lock as I grip his shoulder. His are beautiful, sensual and deep, surrounded by thick lashes. The way he watches me makes my breath stall.
“Are you wet for me?” His hand covers mine, adding pressure to that magical spot I found yesterday, alone in the tub.
“Yes.”
Our hands move in tandem, creating an exquisite fire-inducing friction. The kind of friction that has me breathless and unable to stop.
“Liam.” His name fights its way through the vice around my throat.
“Say it again,” he whispers.
I groan his name as I graze the pinnacle, and that’s when he yanks my hand out of my panties, leaving me throbbing as blood rushes toward the dam.
“Please,” I beg, delirious and floating in a foreign headspace. I try returning my hand back to the center of all that pressure and heat, but he won’t let me. I’m breathing too hard as he brings each of my fingers into his mouth.
He’s tasting me.
Making me whimper with each dart of his tongue.
Shooting pulsating need to every nerve ending in my body.
“Please,” I say again, voice a quivering sigh.
“Begging won’t get you what you want.”
“Then what will?”
“Patience.” His answer splashes ice on my flushed skin.
“Do you enjoy torturing me?”
“If it makes you ache for my cock, then yes. I enjoy torturing you.” He steps back, and I slide to my feet. “Hurry and eat your cold breakfast. We can’t be late for your medical examination.”
Chapter Six
The room is large yet claustrophobic, made up of four windowless walls. Several paintings of the sea are on display, and the cabinetry is made from distressed wood—a sandy tone that complements the ocean theme. The decor is designed to evoke an informal vibe, to soothe and calm, but that’s impossible because twelve chairs form a circle around the examination bench.
Liam urges me forward. “We don’t have much time before everyone arrives.” We stall in front of the bench, and he slides his palm along my cheek. “I wish this was just a medical exam, but it’s much more than that. My brothers will touch you, Novalee.”
“Please don’t let this happen.” Not like this, in front of him with the memory of his kiss fresh in my mind.
“I need you to cooperate. Things will go quicker and smoother if you do.” His thumb inches toward the corner of my mouth. “That also holds true for the months after you leave me.”
An entire year of this, followed by a lifetime of servitude to the man who wins my hand in marriage. If the man is someone like Liam—kind and just no matter the punishment he unleashes—the marriage might not be too horrible.
But if someone like Sebastian wins the auction…
I shiver at the thought.
Liam takes a step back and gestures at the ankle-length skirt I chose to wear. “Undress from the waist down.”
A ball of sickness lands in my gut. Losing my modesty in front of him was hard enough; undressing for twelve sets of eyes is unfathomable. I pull the waistband down my legs and step out of the material. I’m not wearing panties since he told me not to.
He picks up my skirt and hangs it on a hook on the wall. “Hop up.”
Bracing my hands on the bench, I lift my ass onto the leather, legs dangling over the edge. “Do all twelve of you share dinner every night?”
“No. Last night’s dinner was in your honor. We’ll hold a dinner at the start of each new month for you.”
Another tradition.
But I’m glad I won’t have to face them every day.
The door opens behind me, sending a wave of dread down my backside. It chills me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and my skin pebbles with gooseflesh. Liam takes a seat on my left. I bow my head, and from the corner of my eye, I spy the members of the Brotherhood filing in and settling into the chairs surrounding me.
When I raise my eyes, I find Sebastian staring back. His eyes are the most alarming shade of blue I’ve ever seen—a brilliant azure. He’s brazen in the way he’s watching me.
I press my naked thighs together, clinging to my last thread of modesty. Because there’s no escaping his scrutiny. My skin flushes, chasing away the chill in my bones.
Next, I steal a glance at Liam, but his attention fixates on Sebastian, eyes dark and shooting daggers—a cocktail of jealous anger. The chair to the left of Sebastian remains empty. Instead, the doctor—from the house of Cancer—halts in front of me without preamble.
“Lie back,” he orders.
I do as I’m told, fitting my feet into the stirrups he pulls out, and a whisper of air caresses my inner thighs, bringing about a violent shudder. Driven by modesty and instinct, I bring my knees together.
“Knees apart. I can’t examine you otherwise.”
I hesitate too long, and he pries them open, putting me on display for half the room to ogle. I study the ceiling as shame burns my throat. No one’s ever looked at me down there, let alone touched me.
Not even the family doctor.
Not even Liam when he pressed his hand over mine during breakfast.
“Teresa, come over here, love,” the doctor orders a maid standing in my periphery. “The queen could use your hand.”
“Yes, Master Vance.”
I keep my gaze trained on the ceiling as footsteps scurry to my side. A warm hand enfolds mine, fingers squeezing in silent support.
“This won’t take long,” Vance says as he settles between my knees. At the first touch of his fingers spreading my nether lips, I grit my teeth. Teresa gives my hand another squeeze, sensing my discomfort, and I think we both hold our breath as the doctor gently pushes a finger inside me.
I wish I had a clock to watch, hands counting down each excruciating second, or even a speck on the ceiling to focus on as Vance violates my insides. But there’s no escaping this. I bite my lip as my feet tremble in the stirrups. The man is a doctor, and I’m aware that women go through this every day, but considering the circumstances, I feel utterly violated.
I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t even give my permission.
“Almost done,” Teresa says.
My head lolls to the side, and unbidden, I find Sebastian. His jaw is an unshaven line in a face cast from strength and sensuality. But those azure eyes…
They burn right through me. Or maybe they’re burning for me.
As we lock gazes, his nostrils flare. A tick goes off in his jaw. I wish I had a decoder for this man—this silent man whose stare somehow tells me more than words could give away.
There’s more to him than disdain and anger.
He. Wants. Me.
The realization plays on the heightened air between us, and the spell isn’t broken until Vance finishes the exam.
“The hymen is fully intact.” He pushes off on his chair, wheels rolling across the gleaming marble as he waves a hand in Liam’s direction. “Chancellor, the floor is yours.”
Teresa lets go of my hand and disappears into the periphery, her stance by the door becoming that of an unobtrusive spectator.
I suck in a breath and hold it as Liam settles between my thighs. Keeping his gaze averted, he inserts a finger into me, and it’s the first time he’s touched me like this. I
despise that he’s doing so under the watchful attention of eleven other men.
His face is carved from granite, and I sense the control he’s holding on to. Without ceremony, he withdraws his hand and steps back before gesturing for Heath to go next. “Proceed.”
Heath barely touches me at all. He doesn’t offer me more than a passing glance either.
Landon, from the House of Gemini, breaks the ice first. “You were young all those years ago, and I won’t lie. I was skeptical, but you’ve matured, haven’t you, Novalee?” His tone is conversational. Not surprising for a Gemini, I suppose.
“I have.”
“Do you mind if I touch you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You have a valid point, my queen. I’d still like your permission.”
“I can’t in good conscience give it, but you have my dubious cooperation.”
“You are a feisty little spitfire, I’ll give you that,” he says with a laugh. “I’ll have to take your word and the testimony of my brothers as proof of your purity.” He reclaims his seat, and Sebastian stands, the next in line since Vance was the first to test my virginity during the exam.
“You heard the queen,” Sebastian says with a smirk. “Her cooperation is questionable. I want her restrained.”
Liam scowls. “That’s not necessary.”
“I think it is.” Sebastian snaps his figures at Teresa. “Fetch me a set of wrist and ankle cuffs from the dungeon.”
I shoot a startled look at Liam. “There’s a dungeon?”
He winces. “I was hoping to spare you from that information until later.”
“Why is there a dungeon?” The question shrieks through the room.
“It exists for pleasure,” Liam says.
“Don’t coddle her.” The man I remember only as Libra snickers. “The dungeon is primarily for punishment, so keep that in mind, my queen, lest you end up in my hands.”
I’m close to having a panic attack by the time Teresa returns with a set of leather cuffs. Sebastian wastes no time is fastening my wrists and ankles to the bench legs. He tests the anchors holding me captive, then he circles me, just like he did all those years ago.
“If you’re the merchandise, and I’m a prospective buyer, I think a little due diligence is in order.” He stalls by my head, his smirk tangling with Liam’s deepening scowl.
I can almost taste the animosity between them, and suddenly, I know this isn’t about me. These two have unresolved issues, and I’m the pawn standing between them.
“Open your mouth, princess.”
“What are you doing?” Liam growls.
“Exercising due diligence. If she becomes my wife, I’ll require great head every morning.”
“I assure you, her oral skills are top-notch,” Liam says through clenched teeth.
“Your assurances mean shit to me.” Sebastian brushes his thumb across my lips. “Open.”
I do, and he thrusts his fingers inside my mouth until his knuckles hit my teeth, making me heave relentlessly.
“That’ll be a tight fit for my cock.”
I bite down on his fingers, and he yanks them out of my mouth. “Sounds to me like you’re overestimating size,” I say, glaring at him.
Someone laughs.
Sebastian isn’t amused. “Good luck finding a woman with that complaint.” He wanders to the end of the bench and stands between my spread legs. “Is your cunt as tight and pure as you claim?”
“Why don’t you violate me and find out,” I snap, tone dripping with scorn.
Someone laughs again. “She’s got an attitude, that one.”
I don’t know who’s finding amusement at my expense, because I haven’t torn my eyes from Sebastian’s. As he reaches between my thighs, pushing two fingers against the tight resistance of my innocence, his sea-blue gaze ignites.
My chest rises with a gasp, and I bite my lip when he presses his thumb on my clit. Out of all the hands that have invaded my innocence today, his is the one to drag a reaction from me. I pulse around his fingers, my body flooding with warmth and begging for his touch to go deeper.
To break past the barrier of purity and claim me.
He rubs circles on my throbbing nub, and I’m horrified by the moan that bleeds off my lips.
“That’s enough!” Liam’s voice thunders through the room.
I startle from the sound, but Sebastian doesn’t react at all, other than to withdraw his fingers and stalk away, out of sight.
But not out of mind.
I listen to the thud of his retreating footfalls, followed by the slam of a door.
He just left.
Without a word.
Without a second thought.
Because I’m inconsequential to him. Someone he likes to toy with to get a rise out of his rival. His touch lit me on fire, but he felt nothing.
“Does anyone else need to continue with this charade?” Liam’s voice reverberates through the room, a possessive warning to back off.
“No, chancellor. I think we’ve seen enough.” Landon leaves the room first, and one by one, the others follow. I let out a breath of relief as the door closes behind the last member of the Brotherhood.
Liam remains quiet as he unfastens the restraints. He hands my skirt to me, and I dress as the tension between us grows.
“Are you upset with me?” I ask, wishing I could wipe away the wetness between my legs.
Wipe away the evidence, erase the memory of Sebastian’s touch.
“Why would I be upset with you?”
Heat flushes my face, and I can’t meet his eyes. “Because of my reaction when Sebastian touched me.”
“You can’t help how your body responds, Novalee.”
“But you seem angry.”
“I’m angry at myself.” He rakes a hand through his copper hair, disrupting the perfection. “I shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.”
“You said it yourself—you can’t protect me.”
“I can’t protect you from my brothers, but I can protect us both from getting too emotionally involved.”
“What do you mean?”
“What happened on the balcony today?” He pauses, and the air thickens with the memory of our kiss. “It can’t happen again.”
“You don’t want me?”
“We already went over this. My attraction to you isn’t in question. But I’m not the only one who wants you.”
“I know the number of men who want to marry me. That doesn’t mean they want me.”
They only want a queen to fulfill the tradition. A conquest.
“One does.” He takes me by the chin, a tender edge to his touch. “And by the way you looked at him, I know the attraction is mutual.”
Chapter Seven
Sixteen days.
Sixteen agonizingly long days that somehow pass too quickly. I spend the majority of them hiding in the penthouse, afraid of running into someone who isn’t Liam. But I can’t escape the irony, because Liam’s been avoiding me the way I’ve been avoiding Sebastian.
We barely see each other, except for meals. Those we share, minus the skimpy lingerie.
And he doesn’t touch me.
At all.
I know he wants to.
“This is fantastic,” Faye says, studying my hasty sketch of an evening gown. The dress is backless with a mermaid skirt, and though it’s done in charcoal, I envision a midnight blue, like the bedding in Liam’s quarters.
“It’s okay.” I grasp a pencil and start on another sketch. “The skirt could use more flare.”
“I think it’s perfect.” Faye sets the drawing on top of the others. “Elise would say the same thing.”
Elise is touring the island with a prospective suitor, and Faye and I are sprawled on two lounge chairs in the main sitting room. Just because Liam has locked himself away in his quarters doesn’t mean I have to.
And if I’m honest with myself, maybe I’m hoping to see him since a meeting at Zodiac Headqu
arters detained him all morning. He’s been in his office ever since he came back, clinging to the distance growing between us.
“You’re too critical of yourself,” Faye says. “You could start a clothing line with these.”
It’s a subject we’ve talked about before. No doubt, it’ll arise again because Faye is loyal and supportive. Bold and opinionated. Where I capitulate, she forges ahead, refusing to let anyone stand in her way.
She wants the same for me, as one of my ladies and a lifelong friend.
“She’s right,” Liam says, his deep voice startling me. I drop my pencil and turn around to find him standing in the archway that leads into the formal dining room. He saunters to the table and picks up a drawing. “You’ve got natural talent. You should pursue it.”
“Maybe I would if the twelve of you weren’t passing me around.”
Faye gasps. “Novalee…”
She’s not used to hearing me disrespect someone of authority. I’m not used to it, either.
Liam frowns. “I need to see you in my quarters.” Without another word, he turns on his heel and leaves.
I push up from the lounge. “We’ll continue this another time.”
“Is he going to hurt you?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?” Uncertainty lines her face.
I hide my own apprehension because I’m not sure what to expect from Liam. We’ve existed in this penthouse for the last couple of weeks by exchanging curt, polite conversation. But there’s more between us—so much more—and the knowledge has only festered.
Now he’s demanded my presence in his private quarters, and I don’t know whether I’m elated or intimidated.
“It’s okay, Faye. You should take the afternoon.”
I exit the sitting room before she can object, but when I reach the heavy door blocking my entrance to the place where he sleeps, I stall, fist poised to knock.
Is he going to spank me again for my attitude?
Use his belt this time?
The latter causes my stomach to cramp.
I’m not ready to discover the harsher side of Liam.
