Amazingly, another wisp of sexual fog receded, bringing a homicidal embarrassment that I’d been reduced to nothing more than a rutting creature, demented with need, lowered to a desperate version that I would never ever have permitted myself to become.
“You can stay here until you’ve wrung your system dry.” He growled under his breath as he visibly struggled to take his hand away from his cock. “Once again, you’ve destroyed your own welcome party, Eleanor Grace. You should be out sunbathing on the beach by now, but instead, I have to lock you in my office so you don’t fuck one of my valued guests.”
I swayed, once again suffering mental images that I desperately wanted. The core-clenching deliciousness of the word fuck made wetness trickle down my thigh even though I still wore my underwear. “Isn’t that what I’m here to do?” My hand strayed to my breast, squeezing roughly. I tried to stop. It was an impossibility. “Isn’t that why you gave me this horrific substance?” I moaned as I pinched my nipple, wishing I was naked. He was naked. Everyone was fucking naked and fucking each other.
“There are rules. Approved locations. This isn’t an orgy. This is business.”
“How can you think sex is a business when—”
“Sex is the oldest business in the world.” He ran a hand through his hair, slipping back into the formidable island mogul I’d met on the beach. “It’s the rawest commodity we have.”
A flicker of a thought filled my sex-obsessed brain. “If it’s so valuable, let me use it to buy my freedom.”
“You will use it to buy your freedom. Four men a month. I believe that’s perfectly fair. I could command you fuck four a day. Four an hour. I could string you up and leave you at anyone’s mercy.”
I battled away the pictures in my brain. The aphrodisiac that such horrendous acts painted.
Do it.
Let them.
Drain me dry from this horror.
Gritting my teeth, I forced out, “I’m not talking about perverts who pay you to trap and drug unwilling girls.” I moaned under my breath as another wave of intoxicating hunger tried to give me an orgasm just from the soft friction of my clothes, from the tightness of my knickers, from being alive in a world that was so erotically charged.
“You’re saying you’re unwilling?” He chuckled with black venom. “When you humped me without my permission? While you stand there, touching yourself?” He bared his teeth. “Currently, you are the most willing woman alive. You would sleep with anyone, anything. You would do whatever I commanded if I promised you could have my cock.”
Oh, God.
I stumbled.
I landed on my hands and knees.
I felt violently, physically ill as the craving inside turned frenzied.
I needed another release. It wasn’t just a passing thought. It was a literal life or death requirement.
I went to lie down. To do the unthinkable and make myself come in front of him.
But his voice snapped me upright. “Don’t touch yourself.”
Lifting my heavy head, shuddering as my hair slipped and licked over my back and shoulders, I stopped fighting to stay human. I was on all fours. My legs were spread like a mare in season. My hips rocked, seeking something he refused to give me.
I was no longer a person.
I was a beast.
“Come here.” He moved backward until his legs hit the white couch. “Prove just how willing you are, Eleanor Grace. Before I deliver your final lesson.”
Lesson.
What lesson?
I tossed those questions out as irrelevant.
Crawling to him, tears welled and dripped down my cheeks, leaving a wet trail on the floor behind me. I cried for my humiliation. I cried for my pain. I cried with the knowledge that I wanted to kill this man, but if he so much as touched me, I would be his for eternity. I would sell my soul just for one plunge of his cock.
I would debase myself to the point of ruin if it meant he could take this nightmare away.
He sat slowly, watching me crawl to him. Unbuttoning his exquisite suit jacket, he winced as he positioned his erection so it didn’t wedge against the material of his trousers but aimed upright.
I caught a glimpse of the tip as he unfastened his belt and let the rest of himself poke out the top of his waistband. Shiny, broad head, oozing pre-cum, angry red flesh.
Just like I could no longer control my thoughts or system, I lost the ability to think in cohesive sentences.
A sledgehammer of sensation made me mute and dumb.
I wanted to go to him. To unzip him. Maul him. Sink deep, deep down on that impressive cock.
No!
I shook my head again, trying to scatter the insanity.
But it was so hard.
So insanely hard when I was beyond aroused.
Aroused didn’t come close to the jumping, jolting stimulation I suffered.
I was berserk with it. Disturbed and distraught and inflamed with lust, lust, lust.