by Gemma James
“So why the doctor’s visit, then? He already confirmed my virginity.” I cringe at the unwanted reminder of that day.
“It’s about more than virginity. It’s about denying sexual pleasure until after you marry.”
My heart drops. “Vance’s elixir?”
“No,” he says as we turn another corner. “The Sinclairs developed a device with biosensors to track arousal levels. Vance is going to insert it.”
“Insert it where?”
God, I know where, but I don’t want to believe it.
“It’s a painless procedure. The device is smaller than a tampon.”
Nothing about my time here has been painless.
We both fall silent as the door to Vance’s exam room comes into view. I slow my steps, instinct urging me to keep my distance. Liam rests his hand on my back and guides me forward.
What will he do if I put up a fight? Will he punish me? Lift me over his shoulder and carry me into the room, kicking and screaming the way Sebastian did on the side of the busy highway four weeks ago? Since the day I arrived, I’ve remained in my place, obeying and bending and submitting and allowing these men to use me.
I allowed myself to fall in love.
And that got me here…to this moment. To a sickness in my stomach and an ache in my chest that can’t be ignored.
As Liam reaches for the door handle, I dig in my heels. “I’m not doing this.”
Wide brown eyes meet mine. “Novalee…” His tone deepens in warning. “You don’t have a choice.”
“Why don’t I have a choice? It’s my body.”
Sharp angles of pain line his face. “You know the answer to that.”
“I want to hear you say it.” I cross my arms, refusing to back down from the challenge in my argument.
“Your body belongs to the Brotherhood.”
“My body belongs to me.”
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
“Because it’s an argument you can’t win.”
“It has nothing to do with winning. We all have duties to adhere to.”
“Fuck your duties.” I glare at him, more angry at the treacherous sting in my eyes than with him for conforming to his upbringing.
“Your mouth’s obscene, my sweet girl.” He trails a thumb across my trembling lips. “I think you’ve spent too much time with Sebastian.”
“Don’t say his name.” My lashes flutter, releasing a wayward tear.
“What did he do?”
There’s no need to elaborate. We both know who’s behind my rocky state of mind.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” My gaze lowers to my sandaled feet.
Liam sighs, and then the slight creak of a door brings my attention back to him.
“I can’t make you tell me what’s wrong, but I can make you enter this room.”
The only thing he can’t do, apparently, is make me stop caring.
For him.
For Sebastian.
Even Vance.
These men have more power over me than they should, and I allowed it to happen. No one said I had to care for them. No one said I had to share my heart.
Only my body.
Liam pushes the door open all the way, the authority in his expression demanding I enter. A rebellious objection sits on my tongue, threatening to catapult into fruition at any moment. With each day that passes, I come closer to ignoring years of training at my uncle’s hand.
I’m about to tell Liam to take his staunch belief in duty and shove it when Vance’s smile turns the heat down on my anger.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, love.” His gaze travels from my messy hair—since I didn’t have time to freshen up before leaving the House of Leo—to the white strappy shoes on my feet. With much irony, I realize today was a horrible day to choose the creme-colored sundress falling to my knees because it’s too representative of purity.
Technically, I’m a virgin, but I’m far from pure.
“Let’s get this over with.” I stride to the exam bench and climb up before sliding my panties down my legs. As I toss them to Liam, I give Vance a pointed look.
The doctor smirks, amused by my attitude. “I take it the chancellor filled you in already?”
Liam pockets my panties, and I hide a wince as I realize the ammunition I gave him. “That you’re about to violate my body again? Yeah, he told me.”
“Try to think of it no differently than an exam.” He washes his hands before slipping on a pair of latex gloves. “It’s painless and won’t take more than a couple of minutes.”
A couple of minutes is too long, but I lay back and lift my dress without complaint. Knees spread, modesty long ago abandoned, I force myself to watch as Vance pushes in a silver device no bigger than my pinky finger. It’s cylinder in shape, rounded at the ends, and as soon as he withdraws his fingers, I don’t feel a thing.
Except humiliated.
“All done,” he says, gentle kindness pulling at the corners of his hazel eyes. “You’ll need to come back to have it removed before your transition into the House of Libra, but other than that, you’ll likely forget it’s there.”
“That’s doubtful.” I hop to my feet, straighten my dress, and leave the exam room, head held high.
But I don’t make it five steps past the door before a firm hand grips my arm. “What’s gotten in to you?” Spinning me around, Liam halts me in my tracks. “This isn’t like you.” He tilts his head as if studying every angle of my face for an explanation.
“What’s not like me?” I yank my arm from his grasp. “Am I not acting like a doormat?” Upon his shocked expression, I push forward and jab a finger into his chest. “Am I not meek enough for you, Chancellor?”
“What did Sebastian do?” His eyes darken, an inkwell of murder swimming in the depths.
“What makes you think this is about Sebastian? Maybe I’m tired and disgusted by the male population in this God-forsaken tower.” Another step forward brings our chests within inches.
Holding my bold stare, he shakes his head. “No, you’re upset about something, and I know it revolves around him.” His lips curl in a sneer born of hurt and jealousy. “The woman I know doesn’t throw tantrums. She’s smart, keeps her cool, and she survives.”
“The woman you know was trained by a cold-blooded monster.”
“Then who are you now?”
“More than a piece of property.” I turn on my heel, but he grabs me again.
“You’ve always been more than property to me.” His chin dips with a hint of conciliatory sadness. “You might need these,” he says softly, dangling my panties from his finger.
“Keep them.” I retreat by three steps, my actions telling him the conversation is over. “Or better yet, give them to Sebastian. I’m sure he’d appreciate the gift, coming from you.” As I hurry down the corridor, heels click-clacking the whole way, the chancellor’s perplexed expression brings a vague smile to my lips.
Putting up a fight, no matter how insignificant, feels better than I thought it would.
3
Miles is waiting at the entrance to the House of Virgo, his sandy hair combed back and cuffs rolled up to reveal toned forearms. He pulls off a casual yet formal style, suit jacket missing but tie knotted at his throat.
“Welcome, my queen.”
Uncomfortable shyness steals over me as I approach him, and I halt three feet from where he stands on the threshold. He flashes a wide smile, perfect teeth a prominent feature in his masculine, angular face.
“You have a nice smile,” I say, unease disappearing at the way his welcoming grin reaches his eyes. They’re startling in hue—an almost translucent blue-grey that makes me think of ice.
“Thank you.” He gestures for me to enter. “Please, come in.”
I follow him into the foyer, and as soon as we enter the main sitting room, I’m struck by the lack of color. Everything is white—the plush sofas, the paint on the walls, even the artwork of hibiscus and the
purest of calla lilies.
And the windows.
Not a venetian blind or curtain in sight.
“I hope the insertion process wasn’t too upsetting,” he says, ushering me into the kitchen to begin a tour of his home.
“It was invasive,” is all I say, taking in my surroundings. As kitchens go, this one is the largest yet, with an oversized marble island and a ten-burner stove sitting atop three ovens of various sizes. Like everything else, the white cabinetry blends with the theme.
“Do you employ a personal chef?”
He shakes his head. “Cooking is a passion of mine.” After showing me around the well-stocked kitchen—which includes anything I might need or desire—he takes me through a study, a wine room, and a home gym.
“You’re free to use it, if you like. Or you can join me every morning for a run.” He flashes that disarming smile again.
“I prefer to walk along the cliffs,” I say as he leads me down a curved corridor, the view nothing but endless sea beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows on our left.
“So I’ve heard. Enjoy those walks while you can. Autumns are chilly here, and the winters are brutal.”
“That’s what I’ve been told.” We’re exchanging little more than generic pleasantries, and I’m surprised at how comfortable I feel in his presence. At the end of the hall, double doors open into a spacious suite.
“This is where you’ll stay for the month.”
Windows line the entire left side of the room, and straight ahead, the standard French doors open onto a balcony. Through an archway next to the four-poster bed, I spy a private sitting room, going by the plush group of chairs, loveseats, and a minibar. The space is familiar yet different from every other room I’ve stayed in so far in the Zodiac Estate.
I wander through the arch, and my jaw drops. On the other side of the wall, another bed awaits. Turning to Miles, I meet his expectant gaze, and suspicion burrows under my skin. “Why are there two beds?”
Two beds with no door between them.
“We’re sharing the suite.”
“What about privacy?”
“Privacy isn’t a privilege in this house.” He reaches for his tie, hesitating a moment before loosening the knot. “The barrier of our virginity will be the only thing between us until we marry.”
“You mean if we marry.”
“Yes,” he says with a small smile. He pulls the tie from around his neck and begins unbuttoning his white dress shirt. My brain short-circuits as he sheds the garment. I freeze, but my stupor doesn’t stop him from unzipping his pants. His hands tremble as he pulls them down, and I wonder if he’s nervous under that polite exterior, or does he suffer from a tremor?
“W-why are you taking your clothes off?” Finally, I discover my vocal cords.
“In a second, you’ll understand why.” He pushes a pair of white boxer-briefs down his muscular thighs, and my mouth hangs open. I command my eyes to focus anywhere but below his waist, but I can’t drag my attention away. His cock is flaccid, the length trapped inside some sort of metal contraption that seems much too small to hold his manhood.
“It’s a chastity cage,” he explains, as if he heard my chaotic thought process. “I’m not allowed to have an erection, and you’re not allowed to orgasm.” His gaze darts to the area between my legs. “Hence the device.”
I gulp. “How does it work, exactly?”
“It’s painless, unless you reach climax.”
I’m positive my skin has turned as pale as the flowers on the walls in his main sitting room. “What happens if I…?” My brain stalls, and I swallow the words I can’t bring myself to repeat.
“Then it’ll hurt.”
“How bad?” At the thought, I press my thighs together.
“The pain is on the level of labor contractions, or so I’ve heard.”
“Vance didn’t tell me that.” Nor did Liam.
“He isn’t aware of that feature. It’s proprietary to SinTech.”
“SinTech?” That sounds ominous and…sinful.
“My family’s company. We specialize in the design of high-end sexual devices.”
“Like your cage?”
“Yes, and the device you’re wearing, though it hasn’t been made public yet. Outside of Vance and the chancellor, no one knows about it. Except for the legacy members, of course.”
“And now me.”
“Yes, and you’re not to tell anyone.”
“I hadn’t planned to.” A note of irritation colors my tone.
“It wasn’t my intention to accuse. I’m only setting boundaries and expectations.” He steps toward me, unabashedly naked. “First things first, you need to undress.”
I stumble back. “What?”
“Nudity is an important part of our time together. The body isn’t a distraction, nor is it shameful. Our bodies are beautiful, Novalee. I believe we’ll share true intimacy at the end of the year, but for now, we’ll learn to co-exist in our natural form.”
“No.” The protest leaves my mouth before I can stop it, and as I retreat by another step, a bitterness reminiscent of fear rises in my throat. It’s one thing to put up a fight with Liam, or even Vance, but disobeying Miles Sinclair is risky. I know nothing about him, except that he lives in a vortex of immaculate purity—from the whitewash of his house to the locked cage that ensures his abstinence.
And then there’s the undeniable terror waiting under the surface of my calm, because what if he’s worse than Heath Bordeaux?
“I won’t put my hands on you, but you’re not leaving these rooms until you undress.”
I stride to the door we came through and yank on the handle, but it won’t budge. Panic mounts, spreading down my legs until they tremble. I’m almost gasping for air as I bolt for his side of the suite, searching for another avenue of escape.
Except that door is also locked.
For several moments, I let out rapid and shaky breaths, my sweaty palms flat against the barrier keeping me trapped with the naked man whose steps sound behind me.
“We’re stuck in here until you obey.”
I whirl to face him. “Let me out!”
“I don’t have that power. Pax is in charge of enforcing this, and he won’t free us until you do what you’re told.”
“That’s ridiculous. Everyone’s expecting us for dinner.”
“Not tonight. We won’t eat until after we pass through this initial phase.”
“You expect me to believe you’ll sit in here and go hungry?”
With a casualness that induces anger, he wanders to the seating area and settles into a chair, knees spread as his hands dangle between them. “I’m well-trained, Novalee. My cock doesn’t control me, and neither does hunger.” He waves a hand, encompassing the not-so-private living quarters. “Only your submission will get us out of here.”
“And then what happens?”
“And then we go to dinner, and I give you a gift.”
“And then what?” Surely, it’s not that simple.
It never is with these men.
Miles stands, shoulders squared, and he’s the personification of male power despite the locked up state of his manhood. “And then you find out what comes next.”
4
If hunger doesn’t get to me first, boredom will. My stomach rumbles as I pace the floor between the bed and the French doors on my side of the two-room suite. Thankfully, Miles seems to know when to give me space.
I haven’t seen him for at least a couple of hours. Maybe he’s hiding in the en-suite bathroom that spans our beds, taking comfort from a bottle of something he had stashed somewhere. If that’s the case, then I curse him for not sharing. A drink might make this more bearable.
It doesn’t help that I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, and dinner passed before the sun set. For a girl with a privileged upbringing, I don’t handle idleness well. I’ve always had something to keep me busy, whether it was sketching or reading or taking long walks to clear my head.
And if I grew bored with my usual hobbies, I always had someone to keep me company.
But other than my toiletries, none of my belongings have been delivered to the House of Virgo yet. Not even a piece of paper and a pencil—certainly no clothing—and the only companionship available is a naked man determined to break my will.
Why are you taking a stand now?
It’s a question I’ve asked myself again and again since I refused to give in to his demands, but I have yet to come up with an answer. Dropping into a plush rocker on my side of the room, I run my hands through my hair and sigh.
“You have the power to end this.”
Startled from his smooth voice, I jerk my chin up and find him standing in the archway.
“You’re on my side of the room, Mr. Sinclair.” My petty jab at formality goes over his head, and with that annoying smile of his, he rounds the bed and lowers onto the ottoman at the end.
“There are no sides, my queen.”
“So let’s say I do what you want…what happens after I take off my clothes?”
Will he devour me with his gaze? Touch me in untouchable, forbidden places? Make my skin crawl with the burden of his scrutiny?
“Then we sleep.”
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
“I can sleep with my dress on.”
“Of course you can,” he says with a nod. “But if you do, we’ll spend another day locked in here.”
“Don’t you have a job or something that needs your attention?”
“I’m the CEO of SinTech. Something always needs my attention.”
“So this is an inconvenience for you?” I can’t hide the hope in that question, because I want him to suffer, even if just a little.
“Spending time with you isn’t an inconvenience, but I’m warmed by your concern.”
I arch a brow. Miles Sinclair has a wry sense of humor. I can’t figure this man out, but my gut tells me his patience will outlast mine by days. With a sigh of resignation, I stand and remove my dress. Clinging to a shred of rebellion, I hold the garment against my chest.