Page 20 of Claimed By the Billionaires

Fierce pride took over the layers of melancholy that settled around her heart. She was going to hold her head up high.

She didn’t bother taking Konnor’s hand. As of that moment, they no longer had the right to touch her.

Not waiting for them either, on legs that shook and with a heart that pounded, she strode purposefully to the house she had grown up in. She didn’t care whether they followed her or not.

Putting on a brave face and smiling pained her like nothing ever would.

Her parents’ joy quickly turned to confusion, bewilderment, alarm, and then dread, worry, and utter heartache.

She was supposed to come home with an x flogged into the skin on her back and a pegasus branded into her in the center of the x.

Instead, she came home with her backside streaked stingingly red from Aston’s belt and a diamond plug inside her butt.

~~~***~~~

Konnor Stone rubbed his fingertips together and could still feel her silkiness against his skin. He could still feel her coming around his digit, yet she hated herself for showing such weakness in front of them.

All she had was her pride and taking it from her was the hottest thing any of them had experienced before. Watching Winter Creer break under their touch was so utterly sublime she surprised them again. It seemed whenever they touched her, they came away from it a little more amazed by their response to her.

She would never know how hard they had to fight to stop themselves from taking her virginity right there and then—fuck rituals and secret societies. But their years of training, not only physically but mentally as well, helped them stay on track, just barely.

Always one to analyze things further, Konnor wondered if the display of control was because they knew in the back of their minds, they weren’t letting her go. And yet, everything they worked toward meant they needed to discard Winter along with her father. It was interesting how that thought made Konnor’s blood boil possessively.

She was such an enigma sitting at the extra-long table of her family home, trying to keep up appearances while the flesh of her ass was streaked red with Aston’s belt, and a diamond and gold plug was nestled in the absolutely stunning tightness of her asshole.

Her whimpers as he penetrated her with the plug echoed around his head. He allowed his cock to thicken, if only for a short moment before he started to look at her differently again. How many times would they have to remind themselves of the real reason they had brought her into their lives in the first place?

Still, she was not what they expected.

With her stunning dark hair that gleamed like a lake beneath a setting sun, her extraordinary hazel eyes that glimmered like gems whenever she looked at them, her luscious lips, sweet jawline, and fragile clavicle, everything about her was unmistakable perfection.

It was just a pity she was their enemy. The daughter of their enemy made her their enemy as well.

The last leg of a lifetime of wrongs was being set right once and for all. Again, Konnor wondered what they would do after they were done with Winter when all they knew was vengeance, hatred, and death.

…death of the people who had dared to cross them.

But now it was Creer’s turn.

Fucking Winter until she was swollen with their child was the easiest kind of revenge they’d ever had. She was spectacular. Their obedient little virgin had a secret spirit that made them hungrier for her.

That was still going to happen—getting her pregnant—because that was a strategy for their vengeance.

Killing a man was the easiest route out. Making him suffer, not physically but mentally, just before they took his life—well, that was what true revenge should be. Nothing killed a man slower and more excruciatingly than his thoughts. What they had in mind for Jonathan Creer would deliver all that and more.

Of course, they’d had to insist the dinner go ahead despite Winter not carrying their mark. Creer’s crestfallen expression still remained on his face, but it was also lined with complete humiliation.

Everyone present, a scattering of members of the secret societies who were on the same level as Creer, looked at him with pity and barely concealed shock, although on Aston’s, Konnor’s, and Houston’s command, they all had to be happy and enjoy the meal the Creer family had gone out of their way to prepare.

Creer himself shifted nervously in his seat, an atmosphere of alarm and bafflement surrounding him. He drank a little too much. He fidgeted a little too much. He tried to be cordial, but that lasted for a few moments before he reverted back to his entirely unsettled self.

He couldn’t understand why they’d made the call for his daughter, unveiled her as their virgin, and then not taken her until she bled for them. The not-knowing ate him alive, and he wouldn’t dare, unless he had a death wish, to ask them why. No one questioned them, not even on a good day, and lived to get an answer.

But here they were. The Masters of Pegasus—them—had asked for his daughter and then returned to his house with his daughter still a virgin. In their societies of rules and rituals, the slight was incomparable, and Creer felt every inch of it.

To say her family was uncomfortable would be putting it mildly. They wanted the earth to suck them up, and Konnor didn’t need to look at them to feel their immense mortification.

And then there was their virgin.

---