Page 26 of Savage Assassin

Levin’s voice is cool, emotionless. There’s no hint of what I saw in his face a moment before, not even a little. His hand closes around my upper arm–not too hard, but firmly enough that if anyone is watching, it’ll look like a man handling his new possession.

Something about the touch sends another shiver down my spine.

“The party is–not what you might expect,” he says slowly as we walk towards the open doorway, his voice very low. “I don’t think you need to hide how you might feel about it. I think it will be–expected.”

I don’t understand what he means at first, or the insinuation that I might not need to hide my emotions, but he will. But then we step through the doorway into the huge room where the party is being held, and I understand immediately.

The room is lit up in a blaze of light from the chandeliers strung along the ceiling. There’s a massive fountain in the center, much like the one in the courtyard, with four statues of arched, naked women serving as the centerpiece of it, water spilling from their mouths and carved stone nipples. I’ve never been inside this room before, so I don’t know if that’s always the centerpiece. Still, I wouldn’t find it at all surprising if it had been brought in, especially for this party, considering what else is going on in the room.

There are tables lined with food at one end of the room, a gilded bar to the right of it with two bartenders serving guests, and more of the staff circulating the room with golden trays filled with champagne glasses and hors d’oeurves. It would appear to be a normal, if ostentatious party, if not for the rest of what I see.

On the velvet couches strewn around the room, I see several of the men from earlier, sitting with their newly purchased acquisitions. The girls are all in various sorts of clothing as skimpy as mine–some are in similar long sheer dresses, others in babydoll nightgowns, and a few are in lacy or strappy lingerie. From looking at them, I can guess that they’ve likely been dressed according to their new “owners’” preferences, and Levin must not have given them a preference.

Or maybe he did, and she was just pretending to give you a choice.

The thought of Levin choosing something for me to wear to this party should horrify me, but it sends that faint tingle down my spine again instead, a strange feeling that I push away quickly.

It’s easy to do, with what’s in front of me. It’s very clear in a matter of moments that the guests aren’t only here to enjoy Diego’s expensive alcohol and hospitality–and drugs, too, from the lines on gilded mirrors that I see some of the men snorting, while two others swallow pills handed to them by the girls next to them, chasing the pills down with their liquor of choice.

The party is also, essentially, an orgy.

Some of the men on the couches have their new girls kneeling between their legs, mouths already on their cocks or playing with them. Others are standing while the girls kneel, and a few others have their girls on their laps, legs spread as they play with them. Another man has apparently already decided to share his purchase, as he bounces her on his lap while she leans forwards, giving a blowjob to another man standing in front of her. Three other men are surrounding two of the girls as they’re forced to pleasure each other on one of the couches, hands busy on their own cocks as they watch, and yet another of the men has his girl over his knees, her babydoll nightgown pushed up above her bare ass as he lazily spanks her, her reddened eyes tightly squeezed shut.

All of it is overwhelming and terrifying, and any brief arousal I might have felt at the idea of Levin choosing what I’d wear tonight vanishes in an instant, as I’m suddenly surrounded by more lust and sex than I’ve ever experienced in my life–quite literally from nothing to everything, all at once. I’m in a room full of things I’ve only ever read about and some that I haven’t even imagined. For instance, the girl that I see suddenly pulled up from one of the couches and bent over as the older man who had been playing with her a moment ago suddenly frees his cock and shoves it without preamble into what I’m almost certainly sure is her ass.

I shudder, and I feel Levin pull me closer, his hand still on my arm. We’re only a little ways into the room, and it suddenly hits me with an overwhelming, dizzying awareness of what we’re going to have to do, if we’re going to continue to play this game.

There’s not a single man in this room not enjoying his new toy. Levin might be able to find an excuse to stay sober, not to do the drugs being passed around, but he won’t be able to get away without touching me at all. If he does, it will be patently obvious that something is off about all of it.

When I look up at him, I see another brief flicker of emotion across his face, one that he quickly tries to hide. But this time, it’s not lust.

It’s worry.

I’m fairly certain that it’s worry forme.

He snags a glass of champagne from a passing tray, handing it to me as we approach the bar. “Tequilaañejo, straight,” he tells the bartender. “Best you have.”

I take a gulp of the champagne instantly, feeling the nerves coalescing into a ball in my stomach.If someone has to touch me like–likethattonight,it’s better if it’s him, I tell myself. But no one hasevertouched me intimately, in any way. No one has ever kissed me. The only hands that have ever touched my body like that are my own, lost in fantasies that have never been anything like this.

I don’t think I’m an exhibitionist, and the idea of it terrifies me.

“Do you want something to take the edge off?” Levin asks quietly as we step away from the bar, towards one of the unoccupied couches. “Something stronger than that?”

I think he’s talking about liquor at first, but then I see his gaze land on one of the staff circling the room with a tray that has small packets of something that’s not food or alcohol, and I realize what he means. That it might be easier to bear this if I’m high.

I’m not sure that it would be. I’ve never had anything in my system stronger than wine in my life, and I don’t know what it would feel like. I have no point of reference.

“I don’t think this is the time to start experimenting,” I whisper, and Levin nods as he pulls me towards the couch. Our conversation has gone unnoticed–everyone is too caught up in their own pleasure–but I know he’ll have to join in soon, or those who are finishing up and waiting to recover will start to wonder why he’s not enjoying the girl he paid so much to have.

Levin sinks down onto the couch, his drink in one hand as his arm goes around my waist, and he pulls me down onto his lap. I land a little ungracefully on one thigh, one leg draped over his and the other between them, my shoe wedged between his feet as the chiffon of my skirt drapes over his legs, leaving the long tanned line of one of mine bare.

“What are you going to do?” I whisper, taking another gulp of my champagne, as he sips his tequila with the sort of bored laziness that suits the kind of man he’s pretending to be. “I know you have to–I just want to be prepared, before you–”

Levin’s arm goes around my waist, his fingers brushing against my bare side where the fabric is open. The feeling sends another tingle across my skin and down my spine, an unfamiliar warmth flickering out from where he’s touching me. “I’m not going to do more than I absolutely have to,” he murmurs, tilting his head so that his lips are very close to my ear. To anyone watching, it would look as if he’s beginning to explore his new pet.

“What does that mean?” My breath hitches in my throat. I’m not supposed to be enjoying this. I know I’m not, but his lips are almost brushing the shell of my ear, his breath very warm against it, andeverythingabout this is so unfamiliar that it’s sending a riot of emotion and sensation through me that I can’t begin to understand, made all the more confusing by the fact that I know I’m safe with Levin. If there were anyone who I could trust not to take things further than they need to go, it’s him–and that makes it far too easy to let myself start to enjoy the strange new sensations.

“It means I’m going to go very slowly,” Levin murmurs. “I don’t want to hurt you, Elena, or violate you. I shouldn’t be touching you at all, but I think you understand that if I don’t, it will draw the wrong kind of attention. So instead, I’m going to act as if I’m drawing this out. Savoring my prize. With any luck, the party will be over, and everyone will be too drunk, high, or have already gone upstairs with their girls to notice that I haven’t done much more than touch.”

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