Page 55 of Wicked Court

Elara’s eyes, wide and calculating, flick between us, trying to read our expressions as if they hold the key to her escape. But there’s no leaving—for any of us. Not until we get what we came for.

I step closer, and my hand reaches out, hovering just above her collarbone.

With one swift motion, I grip the front of her dress between her breasts and jerk her forward. Her breath catches, the sound echoing.

Kaspian comes up behind her and drags her zipper all the way down while I pull at her front, loosening the dress, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of her freckled, porcelain skin.

The heavy dress plops at her feet.

“Please...” she whispers, her trembles almost becoming a full-on seizure.

Elara’s pupils are blown, that ethereal amber non-existent, pitch darkness taking its place. Her nipples are small and piercingly hard, making it unclear whether she’s pleading for mercy or challenging us to proceed.

“Shh,” I say, fingers grazing her lower lip. “Words won’t save you here.”

She’s trembling, yes, but there’s a defiance as she remains standing, a refusal to be broken so easily. I respect that even as I plan to test it.

“Turn around,” I command softly.

Obediently, yet with a spark of rebellion still alight in her blackened gaze, Elara turns.

She’s a vision of vulnerability, her back exposed to Cav and Wilder.

Kaspian draws in a sharp breath once he gets the full frontal of her. His eyes turn nearly as pitch as hers.

Taking her baby blue thong between my fingers, I pull it down with deliberate slowness, allowing the tension to build. It falls, joining her dress, and I can’t help but admire the view down here.

Her pussy ... a small racing stripe of pubic hair glistens in the firelight.

I blink, my vision complete with a full, pert ass. My tongue darts out, readying to part it and lick, until Cav clears his throat in warning.

Right. We’re not here for sex. I’m to do the mission. To break her, not bend her over and?—

“Axe,” Cav snaps.

I blink again. My hand twitches toward my phone so I can recall Cav’s instructions exactly, but I clench my fingers before I can.

This is what I do. It’ll be fine.

“Beautiful,” I say to her gruffly, because even in this plot of terror, truth has its place.

Elara’s bare skin glows as if lit by fire underneath her skin, her nakedness a stark display of our control versus her lack thereof.

Yet, there’s power in her exposure, too—a silent assertion that while we may have her body, her spirit isn’t so easily conquered.

“Take a good look, gentlemen, and remind yourselves why we can never rebel,” Cav says, seeming to read my mind. “Because this is what defiance looks like. Stripped bare and alone.”

“I’m truly sorry, Elara,” Kaspian says, his expression the most sorrowful I’ve ever seen it. Who knows if he actually means it. “Every secret has its price, and yours is no exception.”

“Lie down,” Cav orders in a deceptively soft voice, then purrs, “Or would you prefer one of us force you to?”

Elara breaths hard through her nose, brows crashing together like she’s weighing her options, but ultimately, she cedes. The numbers are not in her favor.

Her flesh pebbles against the chilled stone as she submits and lengthens her body along the slab, the air in the basement clinging to her skin like an unwelcome suitor.

I reach under the stone and find the restraints with practiced ease, the leather straps firm against her delicate skin. The sound of the buckles clicking into place is a symphony to my ears.

Elara’s exposed now, her breaths coming in quick gasps that do nothing to warm her environment.

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