Page 96 of All The Pretty Little Lies

"Now, Vesper," Zaire continues, his voice taking on a harder edge. "Crawl to him."

I swallow hard, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickens at his words. Zaire nods at me, a silent command to approach. My legs feel like lead as I step forward.

"Now you, Talon," he says, his voice brooking no argument.

I hesitate, my mind racing. How am I supposed to do this? How can I treat Vesper like property? But then I remember why we're doing this. What's at stake. I take a deep breath, steeling myself.

I reach down, my hand hovering over Vesper's head. I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, see the slight tremble in her shoulders. Gently, I rest my palm on the back of her neck.

"No," Zaire's voice cracks like a whip. "You're not petting a dog, Talon. You're accepting the devotion of your property. Your touch should be firm. Possessive."

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to press down harder. Vesper doesn't flinch, doesn't move a muscle. Her complete trust in me, in this situation, is both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

"Better," Zaire nods. "Now, command her to rise."

I clear my throat, trying to inject some authority into my voice.

"Stand," I command, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears. Vesper rises gracefully, her movements fluid and practiced. She keeps her eyes lowered, hands clasped in front of her.

Zaire circles us, his gaze critical. "Better, but not enough. Natasha will expect more." He pauses, his blue eyes flickering between us. "She might demand a demonstration of your control over Vesper. Are you prepared for that?"

The words hit me like a physical blow. I feel my stomach churn, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. "What kind of demonstration?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Zaire's expression hardens. "Anything. Everything. In that world, there are no limits." He turns to Vesper, his voice softening slightly. "Vesper, look at Talon."

She raises her head, those mesmerizing green eyes meeting mine. I see a storm of emotions swirling in their depths; determination, fear, and something else I can't quite name.

"Natasha could demand that you pleasure him," Zaire continues, his words like ice down my spine. "She could insist on watching you submit to his every whim. Are you prepared for that possibility?"

I want to protest, to say that we'd never go that far. But the words die in my throat as I watch Vesper's reaction. Her chin lifts slightly, a spark of defiance flashing in her eyes.

"I am," she says, her voice steady and sure.

Zaire nods, turning back to me. "And you, Talon? Could you give those orders? Could you treat Vesper as nothing more than a plaything for your amusement?"

I feel my jaw clench, a war raging inside me. The thought of using Vesper like that, of reducing her to an object for my pleasure, makes me sick. But I know we have no choice. This is bigger than us, bigger than our comfort or our morals.

"I can try," I manage, hating how weak my voice sounds.

Zaire shakes his head. "Trying isn't enough. You need to believe it, to embody it." He steps closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "In that world, Vesper is yours. Your property. Your toy. You need to own that role, Talon. Completely."

I swallow hard feeling sweat bead on my forehead. Zaire's right, of course. Half-measures won't cut it. Not with someone like Natasha. I take a deep breath, trying to center myself.

"Vesper," I say, forcing steel into my voice. "On your knees."

She sinks down immediately, her movements graceful and practiced. I reach out, tangling my fingers in her hair, using it to tilt her head back. Her eyes meet mine, wide and trusting.

"Touch me," I command, my voice low and husky. "Show me how much you want to please your master."

Vesper's hands glide up my legs, her touch feather-light yet electrifying. I feel my breath catch as her fingers dance along mythighs, inching higher with agonizing slowness. Her eyes never leave mine, a silent challenge burning in their emerald depths.

I feel something shift inside me, a darker, more primal part of myself rising to the surface. My grip in her hair tightens, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips. "Faster," I growl, surprised by the authority in my own voice.

She obeys instantly, her movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. Her hands roam over my body with a fervor that sends shivers down my spine. I'm acutely aware of the others watching us – Zaire's intense gaze, Oscar's conflicted expression, Alex's calculating stare – but I find I don't care. In this moment, there's only Vesper and me.

"Good girl," I murmur, the praise falling from my lips naturally. I watch as Vesper's eyes flutter closed, a soft moan escaping her. The sound ignites something within me, a hunger I've never felt before.

My free hand traces the curve of her jaw, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "Open," I command, and she complies without hesitation, her mouth parting invitingly. I lean down, my lips a hair's breadth from hers. "Remember who you belong to," I whisper, before capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.

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