As a reward for my good behavior since he returned home a week ago, Mr. Bordeaux let me venture outside. Such a basic privilege, a simple joy I’d always taken for granted until I could do it no more. Walking along the edge of the cliffs, I close my eyes against the crisp breeze, hoping to find a hint of serenity.
Because I miss the sunshine and warmth of home. The endless azure skies and the fragrant comfort of plumeria.
I miss my home.
Zodiac Island is but a barren rock—a beautiful, majestic cliff overlooking the sea. Wind whips my hair around my head, arranging my braids with Mother Nature’s powerful hand. Springtime doesn’t exist in this place. The northern location means there’s nothing but dreary skies and a freezing windchill strong enough to ice over hell, and yet…I find something undeniably magical about this spot on the edge of the world.
I wish I hated it more. I wish I hated it less.
I wish time would go by faster. I’m only halfway into my month with Mr. Bordeaux, but the days pass at an agonizing pace. The only highlight of this day is that I’ll see Liam later for a game of chess. If not for the bitter chill, I’d stay outside the walls of the estate until my session with the chancellor, clinging to the heady sense of freedom. Instead, I return inside and take the elevator to Mr. Bordeaux’s floor in silent contemplation.
Because he gave me an afternoon of unequivocal freedom, but I’m returning to my prison, of my own free will, and that makes me question my sanity. Am I so lost that I can’t enjoy an afternoon without someone telling me what to do? Shaking the disturbing thought from my head, I enter through the main door, distracted with thoughts of curling up with a good book, but odd sounds halt me on the threshold of my bedroom.
Grunting.
Rhythmic and fast-paced.
Groans.
Coming from Mr. Bordeaux’s quarters at the end of the wide hallway. I spy the ajar door, and the sounds filtering out draw me closer to peek through the crack.
I wish I hadn’t.
Because Mr. Bordeaux isn’t alone. Loren is with him, and the two are a tangle of limbs on the humongous bed, bodies rutting, skin covered in sweat.
I’m not supposed to see this.
It must be the reason he sent me away for the afternoon. He believes I’m outside enjoying my freedom, grateful for his permission to leave the residence for a few hours.
Instead, I’m spying on him while he pounds his manservant from behind. Loren turns his head, his hooded gray eyes latching onto mine, and we both gasp, drawing the attention of his master. I duck out of sight, but the tremble in my legs and the furious pace of my heart know better.
It’s too late.
The door swings all the way open behind me, and I drop to my knees, hands shaking on my thighs as his feet stomp closer. He appears in front of me, naked and vibrating with anger.
“I-I’m s-sorry, Mr. Bordeaux.”
“Did I give you permission to speak?”
I open my mouth to reply, but fear imprisons my vocal cords.
“Answer me!” His voice booms off the walls, making me jump.
“N-no, Mr. Bordeaux.”
“Did I give you permission to spy on me in my private quarters?”
“No, Mr. Bordeaux.”
“Then why were you doing just that?”
Scared to say the wrong thing, I lick my lips to buy a couple of seconds. “It was cold outside, so I c-came in and h-heard noises…”
“And instead of returning to your quarters where you belong, you stuck your nose in my private business, is that the sum of it, Novalee?”
“Yes, Mr. Bordeaux. I’m sorry.”
“You will certainly be apologetic later, because your actions have cost you a diamond.”
Oh God.
I blink back tears. He’s going to take away my session with Liam. The certainty of it fists my heart, squeezing until I can’t breathe.
Because I need this time with Liam—it’s the only thing giving me hope since I saw him at lunch a week ago. Before I can question the wisdom of my actions, I raise my hand, dying to ask Mr. Bordeaux if he’s going to take away the visit.
“Would you like permission to speak, my queen?”
“Yes, Mr. Bordeaux.”
“Permission is denied. Go to your quarters and wait for me on your knees.”
I scramble to do his bidding, exhaling a harrowing breath as I shut myself away in my bedroom. Lowering to my knees to wait isn’t an issue—I fall to them, composure wrecked as the tears I held back minutes ago drench my face.
He doesn’t make me wait long, and I’m not sure if that’s a blessing, or a curse. Mr. Bordeaux appears in the doorway dressed in dark gray slacks, erection straining behind his zipper. He shuts the door, enclosing us inside my room, and his presence is too imposing for the cramped space. Each inhale and exhale from his mouth seems to steal all the air.
Or maybe I’m just holding my breath, as if not breathing will delay the inevitable.
“You have two options to earn back your diamond.” Bending, he grips my chin hard, and I feel his eyes on me, challenging me to return his gaze.
I want to lock my eyes with his in defiance. Maybe doing so would mean holding on to my last shred of self-respect, despite the consequences it’ll bring. Because I’m disgusted with this man and his sick games, and even more disgusted with my inaction.
But I want to see Liam more, so I study the wall over Mr. Bordeaux’s shoulder, my face burning under his perusal—a dangerous cocktail of revulsion and rage.
“Option number one,” he says, letting his hand fall from my chin. “Tell the chancellor you willingly relinquish your visit with him today. No rescheduling. You’ll have to wait another two weeks for your little chess game.” Returning to his full height, he pulls something out of his pocket and dangles it in front of my face. “Or there’s option two.”
My gaze stalls on the contraption in his hand. It reminds me of the gag he used at the dinner with the Brotherhood, only this one doesn’t have a rubber ball; it has a metal ring attached to two leather straps that buckle. I swallow hard as he swings it back and forth in front of me.
“Do you know what this is?”
I shake my head. “Not exactly, Mr. Bordeaux.”
“It’s a gag that will force your mouth open to be used in whatever way I see fit.” Letting a beat pass, he takes an unhurried stroll to the twin bed and back. “I’ll tie your hands behind you so you won’t be able to remove the gag. You’ll have zero control, and the punishment ends when I say it does. This is option two, my queen. Accept it and I’ll allow you to see the chancellor today.”
The thought of wearing that gag and taking his cock makes me sick, but it could be worse. If I’ve learned anything about the opposite sex and the appendage between their legs, it’s that a woman has great power between her lips, in more ways than one.
I’ll make him come, and then it’ll be over. I raise my hand without questioning my decision.
“You may speak.”
“I’ll take the second option, Mr. Bordeaux.”
“I thought you might.” A hint of a smug smile infuses his words, and for a second I wonder if I made the right choice. A pang of dread goes off in my belly.
He doesn’t give me time to doubt myself. With one hand fisting my hair, he forces my mouth open and inserts the metal ring before tightening the straps around my head. The contraption is snug between my lips, stretching them wide open, the fit rendering the gag impossible to dislodge.
He removes his belt, and I give a protesting whine when he reaches for me. Instead of striking me with the pliable strap, he uses the belt to restrain my hands behind me.
“Stick out your tongue,” he orders, digging into his pocket once more, this time revealing a chain.
Unable to make out what’s attached to the end, I dart my tongue out with trepidation. He presses something between his thumb and forefinger, and the cool sensation of metal on my tongue makes me flinch. The thing clamps onto the center like a vise, causing an intense pain where the prongs press into my tongue. With a sharp cry, I jerk back, but the more I fight it, the more acute the pain becomes.
He stands, fisting the chain and keeping my mouth level with his erection, and I watch in agony as he exposes his cock.
“You interrupted something you shouldn’t have seen.” With firm, measured strokes, he pumps his shaft, aiming the tip at my clamped tongue. “You deprived Loren of receiving the gift of my cum, so now I’m going to finish all over your face, and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop it.” He forces my tongue out as far as it’ll go, making my eyes bleed tears from the increased pressure.
His breaths come fast and heavy, and with several more wet strokes of his cock, he erupts. I close my eyes as his salty release spurts onto my tongue. He grunts, and another stream of thick fluid hits my eyelids and cheeks.
Mr. Bordeaux wipes it from my eyes, smearing it into my cheeks and hair. “You’re going to meet the chancellor wearing my cum.” He jerks the chain again, and my lids fly open.
Suddenly, I’m staring into the cool hazel eyes of my keeper.
“What did I say about eye contact?” A rhetorical question, since he’s still got my tongue in a vise. The mean line of his mouth sends my attention to his thighs.
He gives another tug, this time with an order to stand, and I stumble into him. One hand fisting my hair, the other yanking on that evil chain until my tears trail over cum-caked cheeks, he forces me to my feet. “Look at me,” he seethes.
My watery eyes meet his again.
“If you breathe a word of what you saw to anyone,” he says, pulling on the chain until I let out a high-pitched cry, “I’ll cut out your goddamn tongue.”
Nausea rises, and I’m powerless to swallow it down. All I can do is breathe through my nose until it subsides.
“Blink three times if you understand.”
I flutter my lashes, and he lets go of the chain long enough to zip up his pants. But the relief is short-lived, because he’s herding me out of my bedroom by the tongue. We leave through the main doors, and the elevator ride to the first floor passes in a distressed blur. I know where we’re going, but I don’t want to accept it, because the thought of Liam witnessing my degradation is more than I can bear.
My face is a mess of tears and cum, hair hanging into my eyes, which I welcome because I can’t meet Liam’s gaze anyway. The door to the library slams shut behind us.
“I apologize for the tardiness,” Mr. Bordeaux says. “I had to take care of an issue.” He removes the clamp, and I whimper at the flood of pain that hits my tongue all at once.
“What’s going on?” Liam demands as my keeper unties my hands and unbuckles the straps around my head. I feel the weight of his curiosity on me, like bricks pressing me into the floor, and I wish the marble under my feet would fissure and suck me through the cracks.
“She’s all yours, Chancellor.” Mr. Bordeaux exits the library, leaving me utterly humiliated.