Page 28 of Trapped

By the piano, a guy with red hair has joined the two lovebirds, a glass of champagne in his hand, saying something that makes the others burst out laughing. They don’t look my way.

“Surprised?” Arsène asks with the hint of a smile. When I don’t answer, he continues, “Your brothers have accepted you, mon papillon. You are part of the Alpha Fraternarii now. And aside from ordering commoners on how to behave and what rules to obey to, we like to enjoy the pleasures in life.” His groping hands lower toward my back, firmly demanding for my muscles to yield and to give in. They do, slowly softening under his touch and becoming more pliant. He hums at that, content.

“What’s going to happen now?” I ask.

“Now now? Or from now on?”

“I mean, people will know. They will have seen me, tied up…” Like bait, I want to add, but I swallow the word instead.

I like that feeling. And I hate it.

“Now you are mine to play with,” Arsène mumbles, his warm hands trailing down to knead my lower back. Everywhere his skin touches mine, my flesh tingles, my entire body even more relaxed in its sweet capitulation.

“You’ll live with me in my dorm. Meet my friends and family.” He continues to massage the back of my legs, releasing me from the thread as he does so. And with every knot he pulls smooth, my chest constricts a little more. I can’t explain the way I felt safe with him, it’s ridiculous. I — I shouldn’t feel this. I hardly know the guy! But to be held like that, to feel warm skin brush against mine, plush, wet lips claiming mine, fingers exploring the most sensitive spots on my body…it made me feel something I have never felt.

Perhaps Arsène is right. Perhaps I am set free.

“We’ll make sure you graduate, and then decide what you want to do. Our family empire is vast with over fifty different brands in our holding. I’m sure we can find you something you like.” Golden Mask approaches us, silently aiding Arsène in unravelling the silk off my naked body.

“No more spider butt plugs.” I scrunch up my nose, and both men puff out a laugh.

“Oh, I’ll be the boss of that, pretty boy. Now—” Arsène grabs me by the hair and pulls me back up until I’m awkwardly leaning on my knees, my ass practically sitting in his lap as he presses behind me. He sniffs my throat greedily, then murmurs, “Why don’t you introduce yourself to your new family.”

I swallow. It’s not a question, but a demand.

Golden Mask leans in, and with Arsène holding me tight and my legs still wrapped up in thread, I watch him hover closer until his nose is practically touching mine. His eyes are pitch dark as they flicker between me and Arsène. Waiting for permission.

“Go ahead, brother,” Arsène rasps.

My ears buzz when Golden Mask’s mouth captures mine, and my eyes snap wider open with the first sweep of his tongue.

“Open up for him, papillon,” Arsène whispers, voice thick with desire. His breath tickles the skin on my neck, and I realize he has leaned in to watch us kiss. I do as he asks, my lips parting like a flower in bloom. Golden Mask’s tongue slowly sweeps inside my mouth, licking and sucking. My hands, no longer tied, fly to reach out to Arsène’s dark strands as I let Golden Mask deepen the kiss. Flutters awaken in my stomach, despite my fatigue and I bask in Arsène’s strong hold on my shoulders as he keeps me close.

A tongue laps at the tender skin of my neck, and I realize Arsène is participating, his grip sliding up to my nape where it tightens as he brushes his nose up and inside my hair, his wet mouth on my earlobe.

“That’s enough, brother,” Arsène clips. Golden Mask hums, leaving my mouth with one last peck, and then Arsène angles my face toward his, our foreheads and noses touching. He doesn’t kiss me, just stares into my eyes. My chest is rising and falling more rapidly, I’m clearly out of breath. “Felt good?” His fingertips stroke my cheek.

“You made me do that!” I spat out of habit, though my words lack real bite.

“You can be honest. It looked good from where I was standing.” Arsène pulls back and looks up at Golden Mask. “You pleased my chosen one, brother. Soon you will get to have yours. Who knows? Maybe we can play some more once you have claimed your guy?”

Then, with a final pull of the thread, Arsène unravels the remainder on my legs, freeing me entirely. “There. Now we can head back to our dorm.” He rubs my ankles and calves with the oil, then helps me get up. “Let’s get some sleep.”

“Wait.” Golden Mask says. When I turn, he’s already staring at me, a challenging shimmer in his inky gaze. Who are you? “Do you need help escorting Robin upstairs?” He asks Arsène, ignoring my prying eyes.

His voice, those eyes… something clicks into place. “I know you,” I blurt. This time I do snarl as fear crawls up my spine. “You are that guy who made that other guy—”

“Say it and I’ll stick more into your mouth than just my fingers,” he sneers, eyes flashing aggressively.

“Edouard…” Arsène hums. A warning.

So he has a name. This brother. This…

“Connard. You’re an absolute asshole. That poor guy, that—tell me something. What did you carry tonight?” Arsène squeezes my shoulder warningly, but I shake him off, because my guard is up and my prickly self has made its appearance, in its full glory.

Edouard grins, then holds up the knife. The Damascus pocket knife with a rosewood handle looks vintage and deadly. The tip of the blade is painted with red splashes, no doubt of blood.

“Were you out there to kill?” I growl. “Again?”

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