Page 57 of Merciless Prince
I sank deeper into the seething mass of bodies around me, breathing hard as my senses were overwhelmed with heat and pleasure. Someone was kissing and licking between my legs now, and a cock was dipping in and out of my mouth. At the same time, soft hands were running all over me.
“Tell me a secret,” a girl said to me. She paused to pepper the area between my neck and shoulder with light kisses, breathing heat onto my skin. “What’s the nastiest thing you’ve ever done with a guy?”
The man whose cock had just been in my mouth was focusing on another girl now, so I was able to answer the question. “I’m not sure,” I said breathlessly. The unseen person between my legs was tonguing my asshole now, making me tingle.
“Come on,” the girl said in a wheedling tone. “Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”
I giggled and let her kiss me again. “I guess it would be… Mystery Man,” I said when she broke away.
“Who?”
“I don’t know his name or what he looks like. But he’s amazing.”
“Sounds hot,” she murmured. “Tell me more.”
I filled her in on the whole story—how I met a nameless, faceless man at a party and let him fuck me raw in a public hallway. How I let him come to my room in the middle of the night and handcuff me to my bed before fucking me senseless. How I knew I’d let him do anything he wanted to me if he ever asked to see me again. How I’d let him claim every one of my holes as his and fuck them whenever he wanted for as long as he wanted, like I was nothing more than a sex doll that existed solely for his pleasure.
“That’s so hot,” the girl said breathlessly. She leaned down to trace her tongue along my neck. “Now… let me tell you mine…”
After that, the world melted into a sinful, glittering dreamscape again.
At some point, the high died down and exhaustion began to overwhelm me. I turned down a random guy’s offer for sex and crawled out of the mass of bodies around us. Somehow, I found my clothes and hurriedly dressed before aimlessly spinning all over the place, searching for somewhere to rest.
I finally spotted two of my fellow initiates curled up on a blanket near one of the tents on the edge of the clearing. I stumbled over and collapsed next to them. One of them put an arm around me and pulled me closer on the blanket, like we were family, and I sighed with contentment and let myself drift off to sleep.
When I woke up, it was still dark. The bonfire was still flickering in the middle of the clearing, but it was dying down, and most of the partygoers had left. Several of the masked red-cloaks were present, though. They were slowly going around the area, waking the other initiates.
One of them made their way over to the blanket I was sharing with the other two. “Drink this,” she whispered, handing me a bottle of water. “It’ll make you feel better.”
I gulped down the water as the red-cloak woke the initiates next to me. Then I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. It was two o’clock in the morning.
“Are we going home now?” the initiate closest to me asked in a sleepy voice.
“Not yet. Finish your water and follow me,” the red-cloak said, rising to her full height.
She and her colleagues led us out of the party clearing. Several minutes later, we arrived in the smaller clearing where our first trial took place. The torches were no longer flickering with green, though. Instead, the flames were bright red.
We were commanded to line up again and face the altar, where the remaining red-cloaks had congregated.
“Two of you have already failed and left us,” the tallest one said, slowly walking up and down the line. “The rest of you have done well so far, but it remains to be seen if you have what it takes to pass the final stage of initiation.”
My forehead creased with confusion. Earlier, a female red-cloak had whispered in my ear and told me the initiation was all but over, and that the rest of the evening was just a formality. Now, this other red-cloak was telling us things weren’tover at all. There was still another stage.
I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering if I misheard the woman earlier. Or maybe I’d just imagined the whole conversation. After all, most of the evening had been spent under the influence of various substances.
“It won’t happen tonight,” the tall red-cloak went on. “It is a long and arduous process in which you will find yourself questioning everything as you are brought to the brink of madness. It could take three months, or it could take six. Maybe even longer.” He paused and lifted his palms. “For now, you can go home and rest. Before you leave, you will be given a special ring and your own set of robes to remind you of the path you have chosen. When your name is called, step forward.” He paused again and cleared his throat. “Elena Abernethy.”
Elena stepped forward. One of the red-cloaks gave her a silver signet ring and a neatly-folded red robe. Then she was escorted out of the clearing.
The names were called out in alphabetical order again, so I was left standing alone by the end, eyelids threatening to shutter from exhaustion.
“Shay Sinclair.”
I took a deep breath and stepped forward, hands outstretched to receive my spoils. No one gave me a ring or robe, though. Instead, the tall red-cloak issued another command.
“Kneel.”
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