Page 80 of Daughter of a Monster

We walk down a dark hallway, the leash hanging limply between us. The thud of music can be heard from behind closed doors. The glow of the light above us is red and it flashes intermittently. Jericho stops at the door at the end of the corridor and looks back at me.

“You ready?” His eyes hold uncertainty.

I nod, already feeling a knot of either anxiety or excitement. I’m not sure which. My heart speeds up, matching the thud of the bass but I lift my chin and square my shoulders, trying to prove to him I’m not as scared as I feel.

“You’re supposed to be subservient to me, remember? Don’t speak unless I give you permission. Don’t move unless I give you permission. Don’t—”

I roll my eyes, exasperation getting the better of me. “I know,” I hiss. “You’ve told me enough times.”

Jericho somehow lifts his brows at the same time as deepening his frown. “And yet you’re still interrupting and talking over top of me.”

I lift my chin even higher. “We’re not inside yet.”

Jericho takes a step closer and tugs on the leash, jerking me toward him. We glare at each other, his eyes darting over my face, along my jawline, my lips, my cheeks, and my hair before resting back on my eyes.

“Behave,” he warns and a stupid flush of excitement ripples through me.

Once the door is pushed open, the music rushes out to greet us. Jericho walks inside and I follow two steps behind, as previously instructed. I’m supposed to keep my eyes down, but I can’t help but stare at this strange world. Pulses of color make everything glow under the neon lights. The walls are covered in spray-painted graffiti, each scene depicting a different sexual scenario. Brown leather sofas are strategically placed across the polished concrete floor with people draped over them as though they are part of the furnishings. There’s a dance floor off to one side, a bar at the rear on which the glasses and bottles reflect the lighting, making everything seem slightly surreal.

And there’s flesh, so much flesh on display. My cheeks warm as someone walks past me wearing a leather harness and nothing else. His dick is erect and bounces as he walks submissively behind the woman holding the end of his leash.

“Stop staring,” Jericho growls under his breath.

“I can’t help it.” My eyes keep bouncing around the room, focusing in on people in various states of undress. “Have you seen what some of these people are wearing, or rather, not wearing?”

Even though the music is loud, I swear I hear him chuckle.

But one thing is clear. My father would have never been caught dead in a place like this. This is a place where people come voluntarily. The people on leashes are here because they choose to be, not because some sick fuck is making them. You can tell by the expressions on their faces. Even the ones with their eyes locked on the ground have an air of excitement and anticipation about them.

They want to be here.

They have chosen to be here.

“Priest.” Someone approaches and I stare openly at him and the woman trailing behind him before remembering to drop my eyes. She’s the woman who crawled along the ground after her partner offered her to Jericho. An insane wave of jealousy rips through me. I want to stand in front of Jericho and block her approach. But I don’t.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, not after last time.” The man chuckles but it fades when he sees the stern expression on Jericho’s face.

“I admit this isn’t my usual scene.”

I lift my eyes enough to see the woman. She’s staring at Jericho with lust. It’s plain to see. I step closer to Jericho and he must notice the movement because his hand comes to rest on the curve of my waist as he pulls me close. Even through the material of my dress, the skin he touches leaps into flames. I want him to spread his fingers further.

“And who might you be?” the man asks.

I don’t lift my eyes. And I don’t answer. I’m such a good girl.

“She’s off-limits,” Jericho replies in my stead.

I lift my eyes to look at him. Only him. His fingers twitch almost unperceivably and I wonder if he wants to explore my body as much as I want him to. But then he removes his hand and sighs impatiently as the man drifts away. He surveys the crowd almost with disconnect. The people that mingle around him glance up periodically, wanting his approval at the same time as despising their need for it. He holds himself in a way that deems him unapproachable, although many people look at him with such hunger I know they want to try.

And then his eyes come to rest on mine.

My mouth grows dry but I can’t look away. There’s something so magnetic but terrifying about him. Something dark and dangerous and yet so distant and detached.

“We should leave,” he says finally.

“But we’ve only just got here.” Again I sound like a whining little girl and I curse myself internally.

“It’s pointless. This is a sex party and nothing else. The places we need to go are a lot more…” He pauses, searching for the right word and my eyes get stuck on his lips. They are so soft and yet at the same time so firm and stern. They make me feel as though if he tugged on the leash I’d follow him anywhere. “A lot seedier,” he finally decides.

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