Page 39 of Merciless Prince
Shay
One nightwith you wasn’t enough. I need more.
I stared at the note pinned to the message board on my door, heart pounding. Right below me on the doormat was a large black and gold gift bag with an envelope taped to the top. Presumably, it was from the same person who left the message.
I reached for the note, pulled it off, and turned it over to see a photo on the back. A familiar full-face mask was in the frame—silver and black with striated devil horns jutting out from the sides. I caught a whiff of something pleasant and masculine, and when I leaned closer to sniff the photo, I smelled bergamot and woodsmoke.
My lips turned up at the corners in a satisfied smile.I knew it.As soon as I read the note on my door, I was sure it had to be from my Mystery Man from the masquerade.
I picked up the gift bag and took it inside, brows furrowing as I tried to figure out how my mysterious admirer knew I was finally back on campus after my week-long hiatus in the city.
Bellingham Station wasn’t busy when I arrived this morning because I’d taken the early train, but there were quite a few people milling around the front gate and courtyard at the university when Cori dropped me off after our hike. Anyone could’ve seen me then. I’d also stopped at the library for a while to catch up on some study, and anyone could have spotted me in there, too.
But who?
I concentrated harder on my recollections of the last two hours. Had I noticed anyone staring for an extra-long time? Had I walked past any men who buried their head in a book or focused extra-hard on their phones, possibly pretending not to notice me in order to escape my attention?
Nope.Mystery Man remained true to his name.
I wasn’t surprised or worried about how easily he’d tracked me down. He saw my face at the party when I took my mask off, and the very next evening, my face and name were all over SNS. Everyone at Bellingham would’ve heard that I was a current student after my horrible live fail that night, and Mystery Man was probably a student here as well, so all he had to do to find me was ask around until someone gave him my dorm number.
I blew out a deep breath and set the gift bag down on my bed without peeking in it. I wanted to read the note in the attached envelope first. I tore it open in one quick movement and cast my eyes over the page folded within it. The handwriting matched the note that was pinned to my door.
Shay,
These are your instructions. Follow them to the letter.
Open the gift bag. You will find lingerie that I have chosen for you. Wear it for me tonight with black heels.
Put your hair in a high ponytail.
At 10:57, unlock your door and open it slightly. Slide a piece of paper over the locking mechanism before you shut it again. This will leave it unlocked.
You will find a black silk blindfold in the bag. When the door is unlocked for me, get on your bed and put it on. Make sure you can’t see. I’ll know if you’re faking, so don’t try any tricks.
Get on all fours and face the bedhead.
Wait for me.
These are your rules:
Do not take the blindfold off.
Do not ask questions.
Do everything that is commanded of you.
By the timeI’d finished reading the note,my thighs were clenched together so tightly out of sheer tension that my muscles burned. I read it again. Then I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to figure out my next move.
The subtext in the note was clear—if I wasn’t interested, all I had to do was leave my door locked so Mystery Man knew not to bother me.
But Iwasinterested. The commanding tone of the note had set a fire deep inside me, simmering somewhere between arousal and fear of the unknown. I wanted to see Mystery Man again, because I could use some pleasure after the awful week I’d just endured, but I had my concerns all the same.
What if I was wrong, and it wasn’t actually the same guy? What if Mystery Man simply told someone that he’d scored with me—the girl who was temporarily infamous on campus—and that person decided to go after me too, knowing how easily I gave it up to a faceless stranger at the party? It could be a game to them.
I looked down at the photo on the back of the first note. Then I shook my head, realizing that my concerns were unfounded. Only Mystery Man could’ve left that clue to prove it was really him. A friend or acquaintance of his wouldn’t remember both the maskandthe cologne he wore at the party. No one paid that much attention to detail.
I lay down and stared up at the ceiling, pulse racing like mad. This was a gift from the universe. A chance to feel much-needed pleasure after a week of pain and anguish, and a chance to feel claimed in a way that would make me come harder than ever. I couldn’t turn it down.
