by LP Lovell
"Better yet, do you believe..." I lift my gaze to his, his murky eyes dancing with thrill and excitement, "do you believe you are superior. Can you be above the petty moral constructs of right and wrong?"
"Ella," I hear Preston whisper, but I'm so entranced by the haunting look swirling in Tobias' eyes, I can't pull my gaze away. "Ella," Preston says again, "can you do it? Can you be like us?"
My eyes drift to the door, to the body, to Tobias, adrenaline scorching through my veins. I wish I could walk away, but—I exhale. I can't. This. Them. Everything about it, shamefully makes me feel more alive than I ever have. It's twisted and fucked up, but on some level, it's almost like a spiritual awakening, and I don't want to leave this behind—I can't.
"Be superior, little lamb," Tobias breathes against my mouth before his warm tongue skirts over my lips. His fingers dig into my waist as he pulls me into him, his hard bulge pressing against me.
"Tell us you are." Preston nips at my neck, his hand skirting along the curve of my ass.
"Tell us you are better than everyone else," Tobias whispers before biting my lip.
"I want to..." I trail off, leaning into Preston's touch, into Tobias' hold. Drunk on them, on the tension, the control, the fear that beats away at me. It's as though a drunken bliss surrounds them and at every turn, with each breath I drag in, I become more intoxicated, needing. With each second that passes with them, I feel that they own a little more of my soul. And I want them to. I want them to own me, the deepest, darkest parts of me. I long to be unhinged with them.
"Say it, little lamb," Tobias coos as he trails his soft fingertips over my cheek. "Own it. And we'll own you."
"I am superior," I whisper, a buzz of excitement snapping through me.
Tobias kisses me, followed by Preston. And just as Preston's warm lips are leaving mine, Tobias grabs my chin, forcefully tilting my head back. "You are superior to everyone except us."
My breath catches in my throat and he drops my chin, staring at me with a slight smirk. Tobias glances at Preston and I watch the silent conversation dancing in their eyes. Preston faces me, smiling. "I'll miss you, sweet Ella," he says as he turns and walks to the door.
"Yes, we'll miss you," Tobias says, inhaling as his eyes drag over me. "You'll be a good little lamb, won't you?" He pulls a black cloth from his pocket and folds it over itself several times. "Turn around."
I hesitate for only a moment before his hands are on my shoulders, spinning me away from him. He slips the black material over my eyes, blocking everything out as he ties it around my head. "Game four's not over yet, prove that you're superior, Ella."
My heart picks up, frantically fluttering in my chest as I shake my head. I hear his footsteps cross the room. I hear the latch click, the hinges to the door creak. "Don't...don't leave me." My voice is laced with panic.
"Number three will take good care of you." Preston says. Before I can say another word, the door slams shut and a single lock clicks into place, the subtle sound deafening to my ears.
Silence. Each breath I manage to drag in seems labored and raspy. My pulse clangs in my ears, my body riddled with tension, and not because there's a dead man in the corner, but because something about Three unnerves me. Scares me. Worries me. Surely Tobias and Preston wouldn't leave me with him, surely he wouldn't be the third player if he were—
"Little Ella," the gravely sound of his voice causes chill bumps to sweep over my skin. "Turn around my pretty little toy."
Swallowing, I pivot on my feet and turn toward the sound of his voice.
"Pretty, pretty, pretty," his distinct British lilt makes each utterance seem demeaning, condescending. "Are you worried?"
My skin tingles with fear, my chest tightening with each breath. "Yes," I breathe because I know that lying will get me nowhere.
Every one of my senses is on high alert, waiting, anticipating, fearing his touch. When it comes, I jump, jolting away from him. He lets out a low laugh. "Calm, little Ella. I won't hurt you," he says, and I wait for him to add 'much'.
His fingertips trail along my hairline before tracing over my nose. He brushes over my lips and chin, before his fingers dip to my chest, tracking between my breasts. With every movement, my breath quickens and my heart pounds, but this isn't the same as Tobias and Preston. I don't want this. I don't trust this stranger.
"Tell me, Ella," he whispers, so close that warm air trickles over my skin. "Will you submit?" That uncomforatable feeling winds through my gut and I want to pull away. I want to tell him no, run out of this room and never look back. But to run from him is to run from Tobias and Preston. Three players, Tobias said so. If I leave the game, I leave them and without them I have nothing. This is the game, he is the game and I am now in play.
"Yes," I breathe, my voice trembling.
"Good," he says, his lips very lightly brushing over mine. I tense, pressing my lips firmly together.
"You'll have to do better than that." He laughs again. "Come," he snaps, grabbing my elbow and dragging me across the room. I stumble after him blindly, unable to do much else.
I hear a car door opening and then without warning his hands wrap around my waist and I'm lifted into a car. Smooth leather caresses the backs of my thighs as the material of my dress rides up. I want to ask where we're going, but I can't. I have been in this game for four days now. I have been asked to do horrible things, demeaned, taunted and pleasured in ways I didn't think existed, but this...this is the first time I've been truly scared.
Tobias- Chapter
I watch the door, waiting. I've been on edge the entire day over this part of the agreement. The knob turns, the lock clicks, and I lift my glass of whisky to my lips and take a slow sip as the door swings into the living room. Three glances at me without a word before leading my little lamb inside and shutting the door.
"This way," he says as he takes her hand. The black blindfold is still wrapped carefully around her head, her perfect blonde hair such a contrast against the dark silk. A surge of electricity jolts through me. She's chewing on her lip, her body is tense, coiled and riddled with anxiety, I'm certain. His eyes lock with mine. I feel my nostrils flare, my jaw tick because his hand is winding around her waist. I don't like him touching her and it shouldn’t bother me. I take another drink of whisky, focusing on the slow burn as it works its way down my throat.
He leads her to the bedroom and I quietly follow. He stops her at the foot of the bed, dragging his filthy fingers over her as he circles her. The wolf circling my precious little lamb. His finger slips beneath the strap of her dress and he pulls it down. I watch the fine material fall from her chest, her beautiful breasts exposed. Three glances at me with a smirk before he sweeps his hand over her nipple. My fingers pull into fists, my pulse clangs against my ribs and my face heats.
"So pretty," he whispers before kissing her cheek. "Whatever will I do with you all to myself?" His dark eyes lift to mine and a small flicker of competition flares within them. I grit my teeth as he trails his hand lower, pushing her dress down around her hips. "Do you like being a whore, Ella?"
Heat flares in my veins, tension build in my neck.
"You are good at it," Three says, "being a filthy whore. A worthless, filthy whore." He looks at me and narrows his gaze. "Tell me, Ella. Tell me you're a whore."
My eyes drift to her. I notice her swallow. "I'm a..." she hesitates and he grabs her hair, yanking her head back.
"A filthy whore," he says.
"A filthy whore," she repeats, her voice shaking and he laughs.
"Poor little Ella. A dirty little slut for Tobias and Preston." He tosses her hair to the side and steps away from her. "And now you're my dirty little slut."
I watch as he tears her dress down, as he runs his tongue along her throat, all the while his gaze locked on me, watching me. My heart slams against my chest, my blood pressure rising with each touch, each stroke he makes over her skin. When he loops his fingertip under the edge of her thong, I motion for him. H
e glances up and a deep smirk settles on his face. "Excuse me for a moment while I tend to a matter of business."
I watch her chest rise and fall in ragged swells and I want to tell her it will be okay, I'm tempted to, but I stop myself. I follow three into the hallway and he closes the door.
"Why, Tobias, you have feelings for her, don't you?" he snickers.
"She's afraid of you. The game needs to change."
"Ah-ah-ah, you forget who makes the rules here." He grins. "I won't hurt her, Tobias." He reaches for my face and I step away. "Such a pity you won't let me have you. We could be such a pair, a team." His eyes trail over my body before he shrugs and steps back toward the door. "Don't forget the end game here."
I swallow. The end game...
"Or..." Three pauses in front of the door, "would you want to play, Tobias? Do you, would you like to play the game as well?"
"I'm not your player, Three."
"But for her, would you play for her? Would you do it to change the end game?" I clench my jaw, my eyes falling to the floor as my pulse hammers in my ears. "Would you do it to make her the prize?"
A million thoughts swirl through my mind. Three's eyes flit with excitement and I stare at the door that separates me from my little lamb. Sighing, I shove a hand in my pocket and shoot an annoyed glare at Three before I turn and walk down the hallway.
"Decisions, decisions, Tobias. I won't wait long..." The hinges to the bedroom door creak before it slams closed.
Three thinks he has the control here, he's completely unaware he's nothing more than a pawn.
