Girls kneel on either side of the path, pointing the way that I’m supposed to go. My knees knock as I force one foot in front of the other, each step taking me closer to him. For the first time, I’m grateful to be wearing this mask. It keeps him from seeing just how terrified I am, but I know it will soon come off, revealing to everyone just how unprepared I am for this.
Dean Anderson steps forward, blocking Luke from my sight. His smile is soft and warm as he holds out his hand to me. “How are you holding up?”
“I-I’m good. Fine. Never better.” The high squeak to my voice completely undercuts the lie, and I curse myself for not just giving him a thumbs up or something.
“You sound like it,” he chuckles, drawing me in closer. “You can always get out. I promise. You will always have a safe place here with me.” His voice is low, low enough that I’m sure Luke isn’t able to hear it.
I knew that he would always have an out for me, but now that he said it, it’s official in my mind. There’s a difference between assuming and knowing, and at that moment, he must have realized that I needed his words to shore up my defenses.
Stupidly, I grin up at him before realizing that there’s no way he’d even see it. Shaking my head, I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his midsection for a big hug. It feels warm and safe, just what I need to re-ground myself.
Since running from Florida, he’s been like a father to me. Though he will never replace my dad, it feels nice to know he’s here to keep an eye on things. No matter how crazy Luke decides to make this initiation, Dean Anderson will step in before it gets too far.
And oddly, it’s not that I’m even all that worried about Luke taking me to a place I don’t want to go. It’s more the security, the fact that I can let myself freefall into Luke’s arms, knowing that there will always be someone there to pick me up and dust me off if I get hurt.
The dean’s arms wrap around me, but the hug is short and not nearly as warm as I know it can be. More than likely, he doesn’t want Luke to get the wrong impression. With that in mind, I pull back and extend my hand for him to shake.
“Thank you,” I say loudly so that Luke can hear. “You’ve been the rock when I needed it the most. The father I needed when I was alone. The mentor. The guide. The man that helped ease me into this life.”
Dean Anderson chuckles and shakes his head. “You aren’t giving a valedictorian speech here. You’re about to get fucked. But I appreciate your kind words all the same.”
Heat flushes my cheeks, and I look down at the floor. Yeah. He has a point. It sounded a lot better in my head. With one final squeeze to my shoulders, he steps away and lets me walk over to Luke.
His eyes are unreadable from under that mask, and deep inside, I worry that my little outburst just made everything worse. But the way he slides his hand around my waist to pull me close to him feels nothing but warm and inviting.
Electricity sizzles between us as he stares down at me, and the rest of the people just disappear. At this moment, it’s just us two. With his free hand, he eases the mask off and tosses it to the ground, revealing the devilish smirk on his lips.
“Well, now, submissive, are you ready for me to defile you before the entire congregation?”
His words sizzle into my brain, conjuring images of church services and altars. As if I truly am to be offered up as a living sacrifice to his dark desires. Arousal thumps through my body as I picture Luke as the actual Devil, forked tongue at all. Though I had never been religious before, I was more than willing to worship at his feet.
Reaching out, he takes off my mask and tosses it over with his before sliding his palm against my cheek. “I can feel your heart pounding, little rabbit. What do you think is going to happen to you tonight? Do you think I’m going to devour you? Feast on your innocence?
“Y-yes?”
“Good. Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen tonight.” He flashes me a smirk that makes my heart flip-flop in my chest before addressing the crowd. “I, Luke Lannister, hereby take Shelaine Gallagher as my submissive. If there are any among you that object, never speak and continue to hold your peace.”
His tone is light, jovial even, but his words are far too close to that of a wedding. I’m not ready for that. I don’t even want that. Possibly in the future, that can happen, but not after just a week. I don’t care if others have had success; it’s not something I feel comfortable with.
“Then fuck her already,” a loud voice calls out from somewhere in the back.
Soon, a myriad of voices joins in, each calling out what Luke should do with me. I don’t recognize any of them, and they’re all still wearing their masks, so I can’t get a visual of who they are. Looking over at Dean Anderson, I plead with him silently to make this stop.
But he really doesn’t have that power anymore, does he? He’s not my Dominant. Luke is. He’s the one that I should be pleading with. He’s the one I need to beg to help protect me.
I’m already freaking out enough by the idea of losing my virginity in front of them that I don’t need their “help” or encouragement. Luke pulls me even closer, infusing his heat into me before tipping my chin up to look at him.
“Ignore them. I’ll fuck you when you’re good and ready. No one here is going to rush you or me. Do you understand that, rabbit?”
“Yes, Master.”
Relief settles back in as everyone starts to go quiet, allowing me to focus just on Luke. He’s all that matters. He’s the one that’s tying himself to me and not those other bozos. More than likely, they’re part of the football team. It seems like them to act like this. It doesn’t make it any easier, though.
“Ready?” Luke’s deep timbre interrupts my thoughts.
“Do I have a choice?”
Chuckling, he claims my lips with his own, searing me with a toe-curling kiss. “None at all, little rabbit. Now get on that bed.”
* * *
Luke
I watch with heavy-lidded eyes as her trembling fingers work at the front of her cloak. She wasn’t nearly as scared earlier. If I ever found out who started up with all the jeering, I would string him up by his toes. Dominant or not. It was bad enough when she seemed nervous by the very act of me claiming her, but now, she’s positively terrified.
Shoving my murderous thoughts to the side, I force my concentration back onto Shelaine. She’s all that matters right now. I focus on her soft, creamy skin as she exposes herself to me, letting the cloak drop down in a puddle at her feet. Once more, I’m left in awe that someone so perfect could want someone so damaged, but here she is, willing to be my submissive. And soon, my wife.
As she makes her way to the bed, I stop her and turn her toward me, easing her down until she’s sitting. Her pretty eyes stare up at me in expectation, and that’s when it finally becomes real. I’m about to strip her of every bit of innocence she’s ever possessed.
The theory of it made me nervous earlier, but seeing her here in front of me, her chest heaving and her lips parting, I know this night will blow any possible expectations out of the water. But first, I want to tease her, get her mind where it needs to be - on me.
Starting with the suit jacket, I unbutton it and drag it off my shoulders, taking my time with each movement. As much as I want to just fling it to the floor in a heap, I know the other Dominants are watching me. I want to show at least a modicum of decorum. It’s not that this suit is all that expensive. The ones I wore down in Ashen Springs were good, high-end, just the type of suits these hoity-toity fuckers would jizz over - Burberry, Armani, Hugo Boss, and others whose names escape me. But it felt wrong.
Since I was the snake slithering in the grass, I was expected to look the part, but the suits came with a price. The more expensive the suit, the more I had to endure at his hands - both physical and sexual. When I left, I couldn’t bear to leave them behind, but each suit I tried on just reminded me of Ryker.
Fuck, I could almost feel his phantom fingers sliding over my shoulders as he tested the fit. I just couldn’t do it. Not now. Not when trying to put him behind me and start a new life with Shelaine. And so, I destroyed them. All of them. I could have sold them, but no one deserved the psychic sludge that’s probably embedded in every fiber.
I grabbed the nicest one I could find at the nearby thrift store and had it altered. All so I could look like these assholes in their monkey suits. At first, I refused to wear one, but once Mr. Douche Weasel explained that it would humiliate Shelaine in front of all the Dominants and submissives, I gave in.
Even though I had it altered to fit me, it still feels odd, tight, not at all like something I want to wear. It might not be those same suits, but it’s close enough to make my stomach churn. I want to get it off as quickly as possible, but it seems like my little rabbit is enjoying the show. Maybe once I stash away some money, I’ll invest in a few more, some actual nice ones, just to see that look of utter arousal as it washes over her face.
I don’t want to be in one again, but for her, I can work past it. If I continue to get them from the thrift store, however, I could probably burn them afterward. It would be no different than buying her expensive, luxurious underwear, only to slice them into ribbons with my knife. Then again, if it was a nice one…. But that would never happen. Those fucking suits cost so much more than a flimsy scrap of lace and elastic.
Suits are only for funerals for people you like. Since there were few people I’d ever dress up for, it all feels weird. Even though it was tailored to me, it feels just a bit too big. Like I’m a kid dressing up in Daddy’s clothes. And I detest that emasculating feeling. It’s almost, but not quite, as bad as the memories that plague my brain.
I cut that thought off the moment it surfaces. I’m not letting anyone intrude on this moment. Not Ryker, not Louis, no one. It’s difficult, though. Each time I push a memory or thought backward, a new one pops up, like a satanic form of whack-a-mole.