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Venom & Vanity

Page 12

by Samantha Barrett

He crouches down in front of me and rests his hands on the top of my legs. Just the feeling of his flesh against me has me trembling with need. All it would take is for him to apply pressure to my clit for two point five seconds and I would be coming so damn fucking hard I’d black out.

“Do you want us to help you out and get rid of that ache between these perfect thighs?” His tone is pure sin. He glides his hands further up and I’m embarrassed to admit, a moan slips free.

Somewhere underneath the ache I know this is a kind of surrender I can’t take back once it’s given. I decide, in the last clear-headed second I have, that I don’t want to take it back at all.

“Yes,” I admit. Saying it aloud costs me more than I want to admit.

When his grip turns from seductive to bruising, I stiffen and grit my teeth. I keep my face blank, refusing to display any ounce of emotion.

I don’t need to see his face to know the bastard is smirking behind that creepy fucking mask—the fact they need to conceal their identity is a mystery. We’re on a fucking island with no escape, for God’s sake. Who the fuck am I gonna call and tell, Ghost Busters?

“Keeping you on edge all day is going to be the best form of punishment. Every slight movement, you’ll feel that ache and know we are the reason for it.”

“Fuck. You,” I spit.

“You wish,” he snarls, then pushes to stand. I crane my neck back, holding his angry gaze. I may be in the weaker position but I’ll never go down without a damn fight. That shit isn’t in my DNA.

The Huntsman ingrained that into me.

No matter the position you are in, never surrender power willingly or you’ve already lost the battle.

“Reflect on your sins, when you’re ready to confess we’ll be back to hold a confessional.” I snort at the fucker. I have no regrets for any sins I have committed. It’s my body, my choice what the fuck I do with it.

“Don’t hold your breath, Grumpy. I’d hate for you to suffocate.” I sneer, then turn and look out the window, effectively dismissing him and giving myself a semblance of power. It’s a small victory but I’ll take it.

When they finally leave the room and close the door, I exhale the breath I was holding. Now that I’m alone, I look around and scan the room for something… anything. I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do, all I know is I need to get the fuck out of these chains and make a run for it. If I can find someone and explain to them that I’m here by mistake they will have to contact my father.

I tug against the chains, trying in vain to break loose. I know there’s no use but I can’t just sit here and do nothing!

“Fuck!” I snarl into the empty room. My anger begins to fade quicker than I would like. I’m suddenly overcome with panic and worry over this fucking situation.

I’m stuck. I have no way to get the fuck out of here⁠—

“Oh,” I breathe out when an idea strikes. He said when I’m ready to confess they will return. If I play my cards right and confess the right sins, I can manipulate them into removing these fucking chains.

Freedom is mine for the taking after that.

These sons of bitches have no idea who the fuck they are dealing with⁠—-

My train of thought slams to a stop when I spot three men and a woman walking toward the rundown fucking cabin I’m currently in.

It’s not the sight of them that gives me pause. I know other prisoners inhabit this island. It’s the sight of them wearing glass masks that has my stomach dropping. The girl even wears one similar to theirs, except hers is a half mask—enough to cover her eyes and nose but leaves her mouth exposed.

Is this the standard uniform for this fucking place, masks?

Before I can think more about it the door bangs open and the three masked fuckers loom in the doorway. Something’s changed. They don’t look calm and collected, they pose like they’re ready to strike.

“Do exactly as we say and we won’t kill you.” The tone in which Daddy delivers that threat sends dread pooling inside me. I have no doubt that he means what he says.

“Don’t speak unless we say,” Sir grits out as Grumpy rushes over to me with a key and begins releasing the locks and chains that hold me in place. The second the last one clangs to the ground, I get no time to rejoice in my new found freedom. Daddy and Sir are there, hauling me to my feet and dressing me. Grumpy places a mask on my face and something tells me it's a replica of their masks.

I get it now.

That woman doesn’t wear the mask to conceal her identity, the mask is a representation of the guy’s ownership over her and now I wear one as well.

CHAPTER TEN

PRINCE