Page 25 of Deadly Rival

“I’m not—”

He grabs my hair. He doesn’t wrench it, but his grip is iron-hard as I try to twist away. It tugs on my scalp, and he tuts. “Don’t. It’ll ruin your beautiful hair.”

“I don’t care! Fuck—”

He wraps the collar around my throat. The stiff, unyielding leather sits high, forcing my neck straight. I freeze as he tugs the buckle tight. He could strangle me. Keep squeezing until thelife leaves me for good. He could, but instead, he fusses with the collar, adjusting it so the tag dangles right at the front. I can just see it, though I can’t look all the way down.

“This is a training collar. It’s designed to be uncomfortable. Once you learn to behave, I’ll get you something easier to wear. In a few weeks, maybe.”

A few weeks? No. I won’t be here in a few weeks. I won’t even be here in a few days. I swallow, and the leather presses hard against my throat. “It’s too tight.”

My voice sounds quavery and scared. The crushing pressure of the leather, the sensation of being trapped, saps the fight from me again.

“It’s perfect.” He unfastens my ankles. I could kick him, but just what in the hell would that achieve? Am I planning on running away? The high platforms are so tightly strapped to my feet that I couldn’t remove them with my bound hands. I’d break an ankle in five seconds flat. I’m not even sure how I’ll get to my feet.

But I needn’t have worried. Sebastian wraps his fingers under my arms and lifts me gently up. I wobble in the shoes, all the scarier since my hands are behind my back, but he keeps a steadying hand on me.

“I won’t let you fall.” He gathers the leash in the hand not keeping me from face-planting and gives me a gentle tug.

The collar at my neck tightens against my throat, and I gasp against the pressure. The degree of control he has over me is sinking in moment by moment. It happened so fast. I only arrived here yesterday.

He relaxes the leash but doesn’t let it drop. “Come on. Walk. You’ve worn high heels before.”

“Not this high.” With the heels, I’m still a few inches shorter than him, but it’s easier to look him in the eye. I straighten myspine. Maybe the heels aren’t the worst thing in the world. He walks, and I totter next to him.

He leads me to the door at the far side of the room, which must lead out of the apartment. Next to the door is a shoe rack lined with pairs of immaculate designer shoes and a floor-length mirror. I don’t try to hide my amusement.

“You like to look perfect, don’t you? Is this to make sure you don’t leave home with a hair out of place?”

He doesn’t answer until we reach the mirror, then turns me to face it. “No. I added this especially for you. Take a good look at yourself before we leave.”

I do. God, I do.

The heels force me to stand with my ass and tits pushed out just to balance. With my hands behind my back, it looks like I’m thrusting them forward. Begging for them to be touched. It’s horrible and fascinating all at once. I’ve never worn anything like this. The sensible suits and dresses I wear aim for elegance, not sexuality.

This outfit is pure filth painted on my curves.

Sebastian’s expression doesn’t waver from his usual predatory amusement, but I can feel a change in the air. His eyes roam my reflection, and his grip tightens on the leash so subtly I’m not sure he knows he’s doing it. It makes me bend my back toward him, and his eyes widen. He glances down to the leash in his hand, then loosens his grip.

He turns away, tugging me toward the door. “It’s a beautiful day out there. I wonder how many people we’ll bump into.”

Eleven

Sebastian

It all seemed soeasy and logical before I had a living human being at the end of a leash. A stunning human who keeps looking at me as if I’m a serial killer. She’s terrified of me—of course she is—and seeing those little shivers, the way her throat works and her gaze darts away, is almost killing me.

I knew I’d enjoy punishing Ophelia, but I didn’t think I’d enjoy it the way that I am. I’ve been rock hard from the moment I put on her damn shoes, and watching her struggle to walk in them isn’t making things any easier. Her ass rolls as she totters, and I want to grab it but content myself with the steadying hand I have on her bound wrists.

I’m not an animal. I can do this properly.

I didn’t miss Ophelia’s flinch when she mentioned her brother. I’m not surprised he’s an asshole to her as well. I’d be amazed if anyone on the entire planet actually likes him. If she thinks he’ll come after her first, rather than Daddy Dearest, that’s just fine by me. I have three fake teeth and a rib that still twinges from our last encounter. The next one is going to be very different.

Her gaze darts around the creepy corridor. I often wonder if they made the initiates’ quarters so grim and weird just to put the fear of God into new Wards. Nothing says “cult” clearer than a sinister red corridor lined with pictures of men in hooded robes.

“Do you like the decor? It’s not to my taste, but don’t worry. After we go through our ceremony, we’ll move to a much nicer place. I’ll show you soon.”

Maybe I’ll take her to visit Gabriel and Eve in the lovely accommodation reserved for full Brothers so she can see where we’ll spend the rest of our days. I could invite Jacob and Quinn, too. It would be fun to watch Jacob try not to explode at me disregarding his very sensible advice to keep Ophelia inside for a couple of days.

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