I swallow hard, afraid to obey but afraid not to do as he says. Tristian hasn’t hurt me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t either. When I hesitate, he pulls out a pocketknife and cuts the fabric from my body, stripping me bare for all of his friends to see. They whoop, whistle, and call out things I’d rather not repeat.
Tristian watches me and only me like he doesn’t even hear the vile things they are saying about doing to my body.
I wrap my arms around my body tightly attempting to cover my breasts and my pelvic area, failing miserably. I am on the verge of tears when he sticks the tip of the blade under my chin. “Drop your arms and do a full turn. Don’t be shy princess. Let me see you. Show me what’s mine.”
“Fine,” I grit as one lonely tear slides down my cheek. I have never been so humiliated. No one has ever seen me naked other than my sisters when we were changing clothes or something. And now my body is on display for a room full of mean bikers who want to defile me.
“Don’t cry, my Isabella.” He leans in closer and licks my tear.
I shudder from the intimacy of his tasting my tear.
The touch of his tongue on my cheek is like nothing I have experienced before. The rest of the room disappears as he pulls my arms away from my body. He steps into my space shielding the front of my torso. His lips linger on my cheek, only touching not kissing or tasting my skin.
Right now it’s as if we are slow dancing in an empty room as he cradles my body to his. His hands roam over my shoulders, rubbing across my back and down to my butt. His mouth is still on me, searing my skin, with the tingle of his breath.
“Good girl,” he whispers breaking our shared contact.
Stunned at the sensual desire pooling between my legs, my eyes widen not wanting him to pull away and expose me once more to the others in the room I am well aware of once more.
“Spin,” he demands and I do, feeling self-conscious of all the eyes that are on me.
I can feel the heat of their stares against my skin. I turn fully, slowly, once. When I meet Tristian’s eyes, he seems pleased. And slips his leather cut over my shoulders. “Now they have had a peek and can continue to look but won’t touch.” He goes on whispering, explaining that they will see me as his because I am wearing his vest. The rules of his motorcycle club seem barbaric, but if it keeps their hands off me then I never want to take his vest off.
I can smell his cologne all over it and I want to keep his scent with me forever. It makes me feel safe.
Tristian surprises me pulling my panties from his pocket, bending down, slipping them over my feet, and sliding them up my legs. The way he touches me is tender, as I imagine a lover would do. But then he smacks my rear painfully hard and tells me to get back to pleasing him and serving drinks.
If only he could see, I could serve him in other ways. He doesn’t have to be so harsh and cruel.
Rain rolls her eyes at me and takes up a seat alone in the corner.
With her out of the way, the party continues and I serve them their drinks without any more touching or groping. I am fully aware of Tristian’s eyes following my every move. The weight of his cut feels lighter on my shoulders, the longer I wear it.
I continue around the room ignoring Rain and her daggered glare. She must be jealous I have on what Tris calls his cut. I feel her eyes piercing into my back with every beer I open.
I can’t help but follow the heat of her gaze and meet her stare.
She motions me over and I don’t want to go, but Tristian sees my hesitation, and tells me to take care of her.
When I reach Rain her wine, she pulls on my hair again and sneers at me. “It will never work between the two of you. He was born to raise hell and you were born to turn heads. You aren’t meant to be a part of his world. You’ll never fit in with Tris or us.”
Her words strike a chord with me. I wasn’t aware I was trying to fit into his world. I just want to make it through our arrangement and just maybe discover the memories Tristian thinks I have lost.
“I don’t want to fit in with you or them,” I tell her boldly, ripping her fingers from my hair. “I just want to pay off my father’s debt and leave.”
Her eyes narrow at me, confusion crossing her face.
“And if you ever touch me again, you’ll regret it,” I snap at her and walk away.
I am done serving these assholes when the atmosphere takes a heated turn. Some dude, I think his name is Briggs, walks over to Rain, pulls his cock out, and demands she sucks it. She doesn’t seem to mind either. My cheeks flush as she goes down on her knees and licks his flesh.
I turn to leave and Tristian captures me in his arms. “What’s the matter princess? Never seen a man get pleasured before? I want you to watch.” He holds my head refusing to allow me to look away. When I close my eyes, he pinches my nipple forcing it to go hard. “Open your eyes Isa, do you like what you see?” His lips are at my ear teasing me with the tip of his tongue. He licks the shell seductively.
Since he is back to playing his mind games, I press my backside into him before speaking. “I’d like it better if it were us alone, and me doing that to you. I’ve never experienced the feeling of having my tongue tasting any man’s cock.”
He sucks in a deep breath. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest behind me. A hiss escapes his throat. “Is that what you want Isabella, to be my whore.”
“I’ll never be any man’s whore Tristian.” I turn into him now that he has loosened his hold on me. Looking deep into his eyes I whisper, “I don’t like to play games. So if you start playing with m