Page 18 of Sin & Sapphire

“Stop,” I said. “You don’t have to do this.”

Grégoire laughed. “Of course I don’t. But I’ve been desperate to know how that tight American cunt feels, and now that your father’s gone, there’s no reason for me to wait.”

“No,” I gasped.

He snapped his fingers, and another man approached with a vial of clear liquid in his hand. When Grégoire rolled his eyes, the man opened it and lifted it to my mouth.

“Open,” Grégoire commanded.

When I clacked my teeth shut, he laughed and snatched the vial out of the other man’s hands. The other man grabbed me around the waist and yanked my arms behind my back. I screamed, terrified of what might happen if I let him drug me further. Grégoire grabbed my jaw with one hand and pinched my nose shut with the other. He poured the liquid down my throat and shoved my jaw shut.

Wild with fear, I struggled and fought, but I was weakened by my ordeal and the drugs he’d given me before. When I finally swallowed, he smiled in triumph.

“Now come over here and have a drink with me.” I snarled at him and looked around wildly. “There’s nowhere to go, Ana,” he murmured softly, pity in his eyes.

I stumbled back, only to find myself falling into another person. The boat spun around me, and I couldn’t find my balance. Hands caught my elbows and steadied me, leading me to the crowd of partiers in the corner.

No, something was wrong, but I couldn’t form the words, couldn’t bridge the connection between my brain and my mouth. Grégoire maneuvered me until I straddled his lap, and my skirt was shoved up around my thighs.

His cock rubbed up against my pussy, and he laughed when I flinched away from him. He cupped my face and kissed my neck like we were lovers, and I couldn’t force myself to move.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and he licked them up, delighting in my misery. The party continued around us, and I turned my head, watching a pretty brunette do lines of coke off the table then giggle as one of the men palmed her ass.

Couples paired off, sometimes in groups, sometimes just two, and the sounds of fucking filled the air. I ignored the cock that teased at my entrance, ignored the pain as Grégoire filled me, ignored the painful scrape of his cock against my dry insides, watching the pretty brunette peel off her dress and get on her knees. My vision wavered as the drugs worked their way through my system, blurring the scene before me.

The man in front of her opened his pants, and she grabbed his cock before slobbering over it. Soon she was giving him enthusiastic head, both of them making disgusting noises as she pleasured him.

In and out. In and out. In and out. Like Grégoire. My brain turned to static, blocking out everything but the brunette. No pain. No thoughts. No emotions. Just blank numbness.

The brunette took her partner deeper and deeper. Gently, he gathered her brown hair in his hand to hold it out of her way. Someone catcalled, and he laughed, looking down at her with affection. I couldn’t see her face, but she only sucked him more enthusiastically after that.

He groaned. “Baby, I’m coming.”

Grégoire grunted, his fingers digging into my hips as he raised me up and down in his lap.

Someone helpfully moved my arms and placed them around his neck. I didn’t react, keeping my eyes on the brunette. She sucked hard, and her partner plunged down her throat. In and out. In and out. In and out. When he was done, he pulled out, and she stared up at him.

“Swallow,” he commanded her, and she did.

Grégoire exploded inside me, painting my insides with the heat of his cum.

I felt nothing.

8

ANA

My captor thoughthe’d drugged me again, but tonight I’d held the pills under my tongue, curled up in my bed, and pretended to pass out.

Three fucking days I’d been on this yacht. Three days of abuse. Three days of pills and needles and alcohol and of Grégoire Tchérnov drugging me out of my mind. Three days of terror as I tried to escape the man my father promised me to before he was murdered.

I didn’t think about the ache between my legs when I woke up, the blood on my ass, the bruises that covered my body. I didn’t think about my black eye or the cut on my cheek from where he’d hit me when I’d stupidly refused to fuck him.

Stupid.I never should have run away. And when I woke up that first morning on this fucking yacht, I should have jumped overboard and let the sea claim me.

But tonight we were docked. And that meant I had tomove. And if I died today? Fuckingfine. I checked the door to my room. Unlocked.Idiots.

My father had run the East Coast’s biggest human trafficking operation until the day he was murdered, and leaving a captive loose was a rookie move, especially one as valuable as I was. What was Tchérnov thinking?

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