Chapter 23 The Game Room
Serena
Mrs. Rivers blinked multiple times, she couldn't believe her eyes and ears. “Excuse me?”
Lara rose too. “Sin, you can’t be serious. Why do you care so much about this cheap slut? Let Saint decide. She has to leave anyway. She’s corrupting you two!” Her shrill voice made everything sound more fake.
Saint’s voice was vibrating with something darker than anger as he turned his face to her. If I were her, I'd shut up. Instantly.
“If there’s anyone who should be leaving, it’s you, Lara. My fiancée stays because I say so.”
On the other hand, I couldn’t tear my eyes off Sin.
His gaze was locked on my chest. His entrancing brown eyes were wide, unblinking, his pupils blown so large the brown almost disappeared.
The wine had made the silk cling obscenely, outlining every curve and the hardened peaks on my chest. I was both embarrassed and turned on.
He looked feral. Exactly like last night, only worse.
Like the leash he’d barely been holding had finally snapped.
Mrs. Rivers recovered first, her voice cool and cutting.
“I suppose we can let her stay… so she can finish the tests. Last night was already minus fifty out of a hundred, by the way. You kissed another man.”
She leaned back, steepling her fingers. “Your test this morning will be in the form of a punishment.”
My bravado vanished like smoke. Mr Rivers might be the one in a hurry to get rid of me, but Mrs. Rivers was more interested in showing me all the nine circles of hell before throwing me out.
“Sin will do the punishing, Saint. Let’s see how she handles that.” She added.
Asking the man who’d nearly choked me on his cock last night to punish me? The same man whose brother had just warned he might forget himself and hurt me badly?
“That’s not—” I started.
Sin cut me off. His voice was soft, almost pleasant, but the smirk tugging his lips was anything but.
“It’ll be my pleasure.”
Lara tossed her hair, her eyes gleaming. “This should be interesting. Do we get to watch?”
Mrs. Rivers’ smile was thin and cruel. “Saint will watch his brother punish his fiancée. Maybe after that he’ll put her on a leash.”
“I want to see blood after the punishment is over, son.” Mr. Rivers’ voice was calm now. “She has to learn that the Rivers name must be protected at all costs.”
He didn’t even look at me when he said it.
He stared at Sin like he was giving an order for the gardener to prune a rose bush.
I took one involuntary step backward.
Blood? As in red blood? He had to be joking.
Right?
Sin walked around the table with deliberate steps, his eyes never leaving my face, not even for one second.
When he reached me, I had to tilt my head all the way back just to hold his gaze.
Those chocolate-brown eyes were molten now. They were dark, unblinking, burning right through me.
A sick, masochistic part of me wanted to find out exactly how far he’d take this.
“Shall we?” he asked, offering me the sexiest, most dangerous smile in the history of smiles.
“I don’t believe I have a choice.”
“Brother,” Sin said, never taking his eyes off me, “why don’t you lead your pretty fiancée to the game room? We’re going to need lots of space for what I have in mind.”
Saint’s nostrils flared. He looked one heartbeat away from exploding, and I couldn't tell what exactly about this whole thing made him angry.
He stretched out his arm anyway. I sidestepped Sin to reach him.
Sin’s pinkie hooked around mine, just a whisper of contact, and I wrenched free, hissing low under my breath.
Wordlessly, Saint led me out.
Lara’s voice chased us down the hallway. “Remember, we have to see the blood!”
My heart was racing so hard it hurt. I didn’t know what to expect. And that was the worst part.
We reached a door I’d never noticed before, it was a seamless black panel with a discreet keypad..
Saint tapped in a code.
The lock clicked. The moment the door swung open, cold air rushed out like breath from a crypt.
It wasn’t a game room in the billiards-and-poker sense.
It was a gym without the pretense, the polished black floors, mirrored walls, heavy leather equipment bolted to the ground.
Suspension rings hung from the ceiling. A padded bench. A rack of implements I didn’t want to name.
I gasped involuntarily as soon as Saint started unbuttoning his shirt and tried to step back.
Sin’s hand landed between my shoulder blades, and with a firm, unyielding grip, he pushed me inside.
“No running, Serena,” he murmured against my ear.
The door shut behind us with a soft, final click.
I spun.
“What are you going to do to me? I swear I’ll bite you both to shreds if you try to hit me or anything. Last night was your fault as much as mine.”
They began to corner me in a slow, synchronized choreography, like wolves herding prey.
I took cautious steps backward until my back hit something solid.
I risked a glance over my shoulder.
Saint stepped forward first. His hand closed around my throat, to tilt my head back and lean me over the edge of the table.
The cold felt pressed against my spine.
The stained silk dress rode up, exposing everything underneath.
I cursed myself inwardly for liking the exposure.
For the way my nipples tightened under their stares. For the slick heat already pooling between my thighs.
“We’ve been wanting to claim you properly from the moment we saw you,” Saint said in a rough voice. “Now is the perfect moment to bring out the vixen in you. We’ll make you scream so good your voice box collapses.”
His free hand slid up my thigh, slowly, his fingers brushing the wet silk between my legs.
Sin reached into his pocket. My eyes widened when he pulled out a whip. I stared at the black leather, the thin braided tails, and the handle wrapped in suede.
“What are you going to do with that?” My voice cracked.
Sin stepped closer, close enough that I could smell cedar smoke and the faint copper of last night’s violence still clinging to him.
He trailed the leather tips across my collarbone, then down between my breasts.
I shivered, my heart thudding wildly. My life was about to change, I knew it.
“Everything you’ve been begging for,” he said softly. “And everything you’ve been too scared to ask for.”
The whip landed across my nipples at the exact moment Saint ripped the dress from my body.
Silk tore like paper, and cold air hit my bare skin.
The leather tails had been precise with impact, I could feel twin lines of fire exploding across both peaks.
I let out a raw, high, involuntary scream.
My hands flew up to cover myself, but Saint was faster. He caught my wrists in one massive hand and slammed them above my head, pinning them to the felt of the snooker table.
The wood edge dug into my spine. My back arched. My breasts thrusted forward with the movement, and I wasn't given time to recover before another smack landed on my nipples again.
The scream twisted in my throat, broke and turned into a low, shameful moan.
“Spread her legs, Saint,” Sin said, looking completely satisfied with the giant welts blooming on my chest.
Saint’s free hand hooked under my knees and forced my thighs wide. The torn dress bunched uselessly around my waist. I was open, completely, obscenely open, wetness already glistening on my inner thighs from earlier.
Sin lifted his arm. It wasn't the whip this time. It was a smooth, polished black rod, thicker than two fingers, tapered at the tip, gleaming under the low lights.
My breath stopped. He angled it down until the blunt head kissed my entrance.
Fear paralyzed me. Real fear. Not play fear. Not the delicious edge we’d danced on last night.
This was different.
“We need you to scream, baby doll,” Saint murmured against my ear, pressing down harder on my thighs so I couldn’t close them. “We need them to think you’re in pain. Just keep still and you’ll enjoy it.”
Sin pressed forward, just enough for the tip to breach me.
“Please—” My voice cracked. “This is wrong. I can’t—”
He pushed.