Chapter Eleven
Pandora
When Tianna mentioned the party the previous day at dinner, I didn’t expect… well, this.
The bash is held in a fucking crypt, first of all. It’s Julian’s family home, but his parents are away. Everyone is gathered below the ground in the family mausoleum, which gives me the creeps. The spacious room is filled with marble sculptures and stone graves, and it makes me wonder how the dead would respond to being disturbed this way. I have a feeling there’s some bad juju coming my way just for disrespecting those who have been laid to rest here.
As Araminta and I enter, the crowd parts to let us through. The party looks about as sordid as any college get together, although the red solo cups are missing, replaced by glasses of Crystal and thousand-dollar bottles of wine. I’ve never felt more out of place, and even though Araminta gave me a pep-talk about confidence in the car on the way over, I feel myself shrinking back, away from the watchful eyes of the other partygoers.
A low whistle emanates from the crowd before us, and Araminta smirks, pushing me forward. The people gathered in front of us step aside, a sign of respect before two Firstborns. They open the view, and I come face-to-face with Dexter, sitting on a marble throne, with an older-looking honey-blonde sitting on his lap. She smirks at me, and I find myself blushing at the sight of her.
“Boys, I brought you a little plaything,” Araminta he calls out, and I look over my shoulder at her. She’s wearing a smirk, and she shrugs at me as if to say, Sorry, but you had this coming. “Don’t go too hard on her. She spent a fortune to look presentable for you.”
“What the fuck?” I hiss at her as the crowd laughs. “This was a fucking set-up? I trusted you!”
“Never trust a Firstborn,” she says innocently, blowing me a kiss before disappearing in the crowd. Now I’m left standing alone in front of my fiancé, who obviously doesn’t give a shit that I’ve just caught him with another girl.
“Well well well,” Dexter says slowly, getting up from the marble throne. The girl slides off his lap and steps to the side. Good. At least she knows her fucking place. “What do we have here? Did you have a little makeover, toy?”
He walks up to me, touching his fingers to my smooth hair and leaning down to whisper in my ear. “I’m going to be checking to see if you did as you were told.”
I blush, knowing he’s talking about the waxing that made me feel numb all over. I’m about to snap back, tell him he doesn’t own me and that he has no right to check up on me like that, but he doesn’t let me speak. Instead, he spins around and sits back on the throne, his dark grey eyes still on mine as he taps his knee.
“Why don’t you come sit down,” he suggests over the sound of electronic music. “I want to have a nice catch-up with my betrothed. I bet you have a lot to tell me.”
I only hesitate for a second, but someone shoves me from the back when I don’t immediately follow his orders. I look over my shoulder, coming face-to-face with the handsome Julian – the boy whose party I’m at. He laughs in my face.
Hating myself for being so compliant, I walk up to Dexter, my body trembling as I lower my butt to his right knee. He doesn’t wait for me to get comfortable. His arm wraps around my waist proprietorially and he pulls me on top of him. I have to wrap my arms around his neck to stop myself from falling.
“I brought you a present,” he mutters in my ear while the rest of the crowd disperses, thankfully giving us some privacy. “You’re going to open it now.”
“Oh?” I ask lamely as he pulls out a small box wrapped in black, with Chanel’s logo on top and a white camellia adorning the paper. “How sweet.”
I’m genuinely surprised by his sweetness and I unwrap the little box with trembling hands. Under the paper, I can make out a box holding a perfume. La Pausa, one of their exclusive fragrances. Not really my kind of scent – it’s too powdery and soft for me - but it’s still nice of him to get me something. I’m about to thank him when he speaks up again.
“It’s the scent Lily Anna used to wear,” he says, his tone matter of fact, and just a little bit teasing. “I want you to wear the same one.”
“What?” I balk at him. “You want me to wear the perfume your dead girlfriend used to wear? How fucked up is that?”
His expression changes in an instant, and I half-expect him to toss me off my lap. Instead, he mutters something about me being an ungrateful little bitch under his breath and pulls me closer, his eyes testing my patience by boring into mine.
“Why don’t you put it on now,” he suggests icily. “I want to smell it on you while you’re sitting here.”
I grit my teeth, realizing I don’t have much of a choice. Everyone here thinks of Dexter as a motherfucking God. Nobody is going to take my side. Even Araminta, whom I’d begun to think of as a friend, has stabbed me in the back already. She probably wouldn’t hesitate before doing it again.
Hating Dexter for pressuring me into doing it, I pull the cellophane off the box of perfume. I unwrap it and spritz it on the inside of my wrists.
“On your neck, too,” Dexter growls next to me. “I want to be able to smell it.”
My lips form a thin line as I follow his instructions, applying even more of the scent that’s already making me feel repulsed. He appears pleased by this, his fingers threading through my hair with surprising gentleness. I inch my body closer to his before I realize what I’m doing. I want more.
“Do you like it?” I ask him, my voice a faint whisper against his hear. “Smell it.”
Dexter’s nose touches my neck and he inhales my scent. I watch his face closely, and I notice the grimace before he does. I have a feeling he’s regretting making me put it on, and my fears are confirmed when he pushes me off his lap, muttering, “You’ll never be her.”
I grit my teeth together, hating him for making me feel inferior yet again. Getting up from his lap, I soon realize he’s done with me for the time being – his eyes are elsewhere, and his attention has shifted back to his friends. Feeling my blood boil with jealousy and anger, I decide to walk away and busy myself with something – or someone – else.
I walk around the party, grabbing a drink from the table laden with booze. I mix cranberry juice with vodka and make a face at the taste of it.
There’s no one for me to talk to, no one who wants to spend time with me. My eyes find my sister in the dark corner of the room, surrounded by boys that are far too old for her. I sigh, feeling more out of place than ever.
“All on your own?”
I look up into a pair of dark brown eyes. The boy towers over me, his gaze filled with dark intent as it locks with mine.
“Yep, all on my own,” I mutter, glancing in the direction of my fiancé. “And you are?”
“More important than you,” he hisses, raising his chin high and extending a hand for me to shake. “Caspian.”
“Oh.” I shake his hand clumsily. He’s handsome, but then again, who isn’t in Eden Falls. It’s like a pre-requisite for living in this town, or so it seems. “Nice to meet you.”
He doesn’t say it back, instead critically watching me, his eyes scrutinizing my appearance. I’m fully prepared for him to insult me when he opens his mouth, but the words coming from his lips end up surprising me.
“Dexter told me all about you, but I must say, he downplayed how beautiful you are.”
My stupid heart soars at the compliment I didn’t realize I needed. It feels good to be acknowledged, and a tell-tale blush creeps into my cheeks, making me look at the floor in embarrassment.
“So tell me, Dexter’s toy,” Caspian goes on. “Are you allowed to play with us? Or is Dexter being a selfish bastard and keeping you all to himself?”
I remember Dexter’s possessive words in the locker room with Lai. How he told him none of the other guys are allowed to touch me. Surely they’ve filled Caspian in? But as I stare at him, I’m half-convinced he’s testing me.
“I’m not the biggest fan of your fi
ancé,” Caspian goes on, shattering the illusion. “So… answer me.”
“I don’t know,” I lie in a low whisper, and he smirks at me, fingers wrapping around my still bruised wrist.
“Why don’t I help you find out?” he offers, and I don’t even try to resist as he pulls me closer. That drink went straight into my head. I fall into step behind him and he walks me into a room that’s separated from the main crypt. It’s a bedroom, complete with old-fashioned furniture and pristine, clean.
“What’s this?” I can’t help but ask, glancing around in wonder.
“The mourning room,” Caspian explains impassively. “Whenever a male member of Julian’s family dies, the wife must spend a week in this room to mourn him.”
I look around the room. It’s beautiful, but there are no windows, not even in the adjoining bathroom. It gives me the creeps. I wouldn’t want to spend a week locked in here – I’d probably end up losing my mind.
“Why don’t you come here?” Caspian offers, sitting down on the dark purple throw on the bed and patting the fabric. “I want to get a better look at you.”
I hesitate, knowing Dexter wouldn’t like this one bit. But he doesn’t own me. Not yet. And I’m not going to let a bully decide my actions.
I walk to the bed, sitting down next to Caspian. His nearly-black eyes are inspecting me, devouring inch after inch of skin with his gaze holding a promise of darkness. I don’t dare speak up, and he doesn’t ask me to. Instead, he takes his time, letting his eyes wander over every inch of my body – exposed, and hidden.
“Maybe I should get back,” I mutter, starting to get uncomfortable from the intensity of his gaze.
I attempt to get up, but Caspian’s hand snakes around my wrist again, firmly holding me in place. “I don’t think you should, actually. I have as much right to you as he does.”
“Dexter?” Caspian nods, and I furrow my brows. “I don’t think that’s quite right… We are engaged, after all.”
“Do you want to marry him?”
I hesitate before shrugging. “I don’t really have a choice, so what does it matter?”
“You could have so much more than that poor Booth boy,” Caspian mutters, touching his fingertips to my burning cheeks and stroking the soft skin there.
My eyes flutter open and closed. I’m desperate for more of his sweet caresses. They feel so much different than Dexter’s punishing touch. I find myself leaning into his embrace, resting my cheek in his palm and hoping he takes the next step before someone bursts in and stops us.
“Has he kissed you yet?” Caspian’s voice is soft and kind.
I shake my head no, and he smirks in response. He likes my answer. I realize he wants to be the first to taste me, and my hands tremble as he leans in closer, my hair falling in a curtain around us and shielding us from the outside world.
“You want it?” he mutters against my lips, his fingertips lingering on my jaw. “Do you want me to be the first one of us to kiss you?”
I swallow thickly, ready to answer, when I finally let myself hear the resounding ‘No’ echoing in my mind.
No, I don’t want him to kiss me.
No, I don’t want him to be the first.
No, I don’t want him to have this moment.
I want to choose who does this to me. I don’t want to be told what to do.
I’m about to deny him the pleasure, but his fingers slip from my jaw to my neck, squeezing down on my pulse points. I take a breath, raspy and strained against his punishing fingertips.
“I can’t breathe,” I manage to choke out.
“I know,” he replies sweetly, pressing down even harder. “I like it that way. Girls are so much prettier when they struggle.”
Horror washes over me and I attempt to get away, but his grip on me is vice-like, not letting me move a single inch. He brings my face closer to his, contemplating how to hurt me further. I hate myself for falling in his trap. Not only because I don’t want it, but also because I know there will be hell to pay – for both of us – once Dexter finds out about this. And he will find out, or at least so my gut tells me.
“I need to taste those pouty lips,” he mutters to himself, leaning in to steal what he can never have.
Luckily for me, and unfortunately for him, the door flies open that minute, and my enraged fiancé stands in the doorframe, regarding us with distaste.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
“Well,” Caspian drawls out, making me turn my head and look at Dex with his fingers still wrapped around my neck. “I was just inspecting the new addition to the Eden Falls family, is all. She doesn’t look as tragic as you described her.”
I flush with embarrassment as Dexter walks up to us, slapping Caspian’s hands off me without any regard to whether he’s hurting me in the process. My tormentor laughs, getting up from the bed and watching me closely, devouring me with his demon-like eyes.
“She’s had a makeover,” Dexter mutters before motioning to the door. “Why don’t you leave us alone now, Caspian? I need to discipline my fiancée for running away with you.”
I swallow, a part of me hoping Caspian declines. But I’m not sure whether that would stop Dexter. The most it would do is give him an audience to do whatever the hell he wants with me.
“How about I stay?” Caspian seems to sense what I’m thinking, and his cruel eyes darken even further as he glares at me. “I want to see how you deal with such a disobedient little toy. And I might even give you some pointers.”
“Hardly needed,” Dexter hisses, glaring at his rival. “But sure, why don’t you stay. Let’s make her squirm a little more.”
I shiver at the thought, standing trapped between the bed and the door with one of the boys on either side of me.
“You know, I had something special in mind for you tonight, Pandora,” Dexter tells me with a cruel smile, and I feel goosebumps erupting all over my skin as he touches his fingertips to it, exploring my flesh with his cool hand. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
I stay stubbornly quiet as his fingers explore my skin. He tugs on my dress, making a disapproving sound and muttering, “This covers you up too much.”
“Why don’t you make her take it off?” Caspian suggests, and I turn to face him, grimacing.
“What a grand idea,” Dexter drawls out, retrieving his hand. “Strip, Pandora.”
I shiver under their gazes but don’t make a move. Dexter advances on me, slapping my cheek lightly, but hard enough to make me take a step back. “Fucking right now.”
I want to say no. I want to deny him. I’m eager to prove him wrong, but my body isn’t.
My hands tremble as I undo the zipper down the side of the dress. The sequins and the silk slip down my body, gathering in a pool by my feet. I step out of the dress, now in nothing but lingerie and my heels.
“Well, her tits make up for everything else.” Caspian whistles, staring at me with newfound admiration. “Would you look at that? She’s blushing. How fucking adorable.”
“It is, isn’t it,” Dex mutters, running his fingertips over my skin.
“Can I go?” I ask shakily, and they both laugh at me.
“You want to walk out there in nothing but your underwear?” Caspian inquires.
“Be my guest.” Dex’s smirk is cruel and unyielding. “But you’re not allowed to put your dress back on.”
I weigh up my options and hate myself even more when I realize I don’t want to leave. I want them watching me. Touching me. Telling me all the nasty, depraved things that make juices trickle down my inner thigh.
“I think we’ve wasted enough time here,” Dexter informs me. “I want to feel your mouth. I want to know what you taste like. Why don’t you give me a little kiss, toy?”
I hesitate, but his arm wraps around my waist the next moment, pulling me against him. “No is not an acceptable answer.”
“I wasn’t going to say no,” I whisper, hating myself for admitting it to him.
His eyes flash with surprise, then a smug smile takes over his face. God, why did I have to say that? He has me right where he wants me now.
Dexter’s eyes linger on mine.
“I didn’t tell you where, did I, toy?”
He unzips his pants, and my eyes widen as he takes out his cock. He’s too big to fit anywhere. I doubt I could take him in my mouth, much less in my other holes.
I force myself to look back up at him, muttering, “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious,” he replies. “Give him a little kiss now, toy. Don’t be shy.”
I hesitate, but Caspian appears behind me, forcing me to my knees. I mewl as he pushes me forward, and my lips make contact with Dexter’s swollen, precum-drenched tip.
He growls my name out loud and I look up at him, my lips parting to allow him entry.
I want to be the one to make him fall apart. The realization is shocking, making me burn with shame.
I want to be the one to make him groan. But he’s just getting a feel for me now. Seeing if he likes it.
“Kiss it,” he demands, and I allow my tongue to dart out between my lips despite my better judgement, tasting him.
He pulls back after groaning, the faint hint of a smile still present on his face.
“Not bad,” he mutters while Caspian laughs in the background. I’d managed to completely forget about him for the short time Dex had my lips pressed against his dick.
“What does he taste like?” Caspian asks now, and I lock eyes with Dexter, fearing that he’ll make me answer.
“Tell him, toy.”
“Summer,” I whisper, and my body arches toward him involuntarily. “Salt. Sea. The sun.”
“How poetic.” Caspian gets up. “Are we going to get this party started or what? I want in on this. I’m done just watching you kiss your dick like some love-starved teenager.”
“Sure.” Dexter smirks at him, then turns to me.
He tips my chin back and I stare up at him while he puts his dick away “Get on the fucking bed. Panties off. I want to see that pretty pussy.”
A Hurt So Sweet: Complete Dark Bully Romance Series Box Set: Elite of Eden Falls Prep Page 11