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The vodka in my stomach did nothing to take the edge off.
If I wasn’t responsible for Ily, I’d probably do what she suggested and leap off the patio. Then again, if I’d never met her, I wouldn’t be in this unwinnable situation. I wouldn’t have a rebelling heart or a mutinous body. My soul wouldn’t be dying the slowest, blackest death.
Victor padded closer and sat beside me.
He rested his hand on my thigh.
I shook with dripping, feral violence to take his hand and rip it the fuck off me.
“I’m sorry you’re still suffering,” he murmured, squeezing my kneecap. “And I’m sorry if you feel like I’m pushing you too hard, but…I mean it when I say it’s for your own good.” He stroked his palm up my leg.
I turned to stone.
His touch…
His closeness.
Flashbacks of him enjoying a blowjob from Peter crowded my head.
Leaping to my feet, I paced with my hands buried in my hair.
Did he just come on to me?
And if he did…how far would I be willing to go to protect Ily from him?
Offer myself up instead?
Get on my knees and—
“Enough, Henri. Jesus, calm down.” He tracked me as I paced. “You say you don’t need a fuck? I hate to tell you, but you’re beyond need. It’s a matter of survival.” Clicking his fingers, he ordered, “Rachel, come here, please.”
Immediately, his pregnant jewel—fuck, she’s pregnant. He wants me to sleep with a pregnant slave—crawled to us and rested on her knees.
Keeping her chin down and hands loose on her lap, she glowed like an angel in white lingerie. I did my best to see her like the old me would’ve. I would’ve appreciated the fall of her dark hair, the ice of her blue eyes, full breasts, and sultry pink lips.
But nothing.
My cock barely twitched. If anything, it crawled even deeper inside me.
Ily sucked in a breath, wrenching my gaze to her golden ones.
And there it was again.
The heat, the crackle, the profound knowingness and calm.
Just do it. Her eyes narrowed.
I’m okay. Her lips thinned.
I shook my head. I wanted to clean out my ears because no fucking way could those thoughts be real. She wouldn’t give me permission to screw another because no way in hell could I survive the thought of her being with someone else.
That part of the night is already a done deal.
As if Victor snatched that thought out of my head, he huffed and crossed his arms. “I’m getting a little tired of your dramatics, mon ami. In fact, I’m well on my way to becoming offended that you’re not accepting my offer of Rachel. Is she not beautiful to you? Don’t you see the honour I’m giving you?” He canted his head. “Would you prefer Mollie? You won her too, but I’m afraid she’s otherwise disposed with Roland tonight—”
“I told you, Vic.” My voice came out black and thin. “I can’t help how I’m wired. I’m loyal…” My stare snagged with Ily’s again. “I have a crush—”
“A crush?” He burst out laughing. “Oh, dearie me.” Turning on the ball of his foot, he studied me, then Ily, then back to me. “You think you merely have a crush?” Laughing again, he marched into me and grabbed me right between the fucking legs.
