Broken Hope

by Nicole Fox

  “You are mine,” I growl. “Only mine.”

  She nods—desperately, painfully, like every fiber of her wants to let me know that what I’m saying is true.

  Eve tugs her hand free of my grip, and I let go, allowing her to dance her way across my abdomen and lower to undo my pants. When she slips her hand inside, I catch my breath.

  She wraps her hand around me and strokes me gently, taking her time.

  Desire overwhelms me, and I try to grab her and haul her back to the bed, but she avoids my grip and drops to her knees in front of me. I stay perfectly still, breath caught in my chest.

  Slowly, she pulls the suit pants down followed by the black boxers, and when I spring free of the soft material, she licks her lips and looks up at me. “And you are mine. Only mine.”

  I press one palm against the wall as she takes me in her mouth.

  From this angle, I can see her working on me and her breasts bouncing free of the dress, and it is too much.

  This night is supposed to last much longer than it is going to if she keeps this up, so I close my eyes and tip my head back.

  Her cold fingers are wrapped around each of my thighs for grip as she plunges down on me as far as she can and then draws back slowly, utilizing the perfect level of suction. Then, she licks me from base to tip, and I can’t stand it.

  I grab her under the arms, throw her giggling over my shoulder, and walk over to the bed. When I throw her down on the mattress, she is smiling, and I take a minute to enjoy the sight of it.

  I wasn’t sure I’d ever see that smile again.

  I spread her legs wide and kiss my way under her dress. The black panties she’s wearing are delicate, and I rip them away with one tug. Then, I lick her opening.

  Eve sighs and her legs open wider, giving me more access. I dive in greedily.

  I lick and suck and flick until she is writhing, and I have to pin her hips to the mattress with my arm. When I add a finger, she nearly bucks us both right off the bed. Then I add another, pulsing into her, but it isn’t until my lips wrap around the tiny bud at the apex of her thighs that she falls apart.

  All at once, her body goes fluid and then rigid, and her breathing becomes erratic. There are long pauses punctuated with a gasp and the writhing of her hips.

  Eve fists the comforter and bites down on her own cries as her body releases harder than I’ve ever seen. When she is done, she goes limp on the bed.

  I wait a moment before I kiss my way up her body, and when I reach her arms, I pull her upright and unzip the dress.

  She’s putty in my hands. Undressing her is like taking care of a doll. I have to lift her hips as I drag the dress down her legs, but as soon as it is off, I forget about the effort it took.

  She is gorgeous.

  Every line, every curve of her body speaks to me in ways I didn’t know a human body ever could.

  Before Eve, I didn’t think myself capable of love. I knew how to fuck and find my own release, but that was all sex was to me.

  But now?

  My climax is nothing without hers.

  My pleasure is nothing if Eve isn’t enjoying it with me.

  Getting her off feels just as good as my own orgasm, and seeing her sated and lazy on the bed makes me harder than steel.

  I crawl over her, kissing each of her breasts before she cups my face in her hands and drags me up to her mouth. We kiss, slow and passionate, her tongue curling around mine. Then she pushes me away and smiles a wicked smile, eyebrow arched.

  “Your turn.”

  I let her push me back on the bed and straddle me, her knees on either side of my hips.

  She is sublime mounted on top of me, and for just a minute, I try to forget where we are. I try to imagine we are home with our daughter in the next room and this is just a normal night and not potentially one of the last times we’ll be able to do this.

  I can’t let that happen.

  So I grip her hips and pull her onto me.

  Her pouty lips part as I spread her wide, and when I’m in as deep as I can go, she rocks her body to settle onto me and sighs with contentment.

  “God, we fit together perfectly,” she hums.

  I don’t get a chance to answer because the next second she lifts her hips up and then works them back down.

  She rolls her body over me again and again, moving to a rhythm I can’t hear but can feel in the deepest corners of myself.

  “Say it again,” she whispers hoarsely, planting her hands on my chest.

  “What?” I ask, thrusting up in time with her movements.

  She looks down at me with lust in her eyes. “Tell me I’m yours.”

  I wrap my arm around her waist, tip her backward, and switch positions so I’m nestled between her legs. I position myself at her opening, teasing her for a second before I plunge into her with one thrust.

  “You are mine,” I groan.

  Eve weaves her fingers through my hair and rolls her hips up. “Again.”

  I pull all the way out before thrusting in to the hilt. “You are mine.”

  Her moans get louder each time our bodies come together, and when she lets go for the second time, she throws her arms out to the side, lays her head back, and arches into the sensation.

  “Yes!” she screams, hooking her legs around my waist.

  I realize then she still has her stilettos on, the heels of which are digging into my back. Still, I pound into her. Again and again until she stops trembling and brings her hands up to my chest.

  “I said it was your turn,” she says, trying to pout though she can’t keep the smile away.

  I lean forward and kiss her lips softly, nipping at her lower lip. Then, I spin her around and edge her legs apart.

  Eve quickly lifts her hips, giving me better access, and I push into her from behind.

  “Now it is my turn.”

  Her ass is as perfect as the rest of her, and I palm a cheek in each hand as I work my length into her.

  It only takes a few thrusts before I’m close.

  And when Eve reaches around, her fingers gripping my thigh, drawing me in closer, I fall apart.

  Every ounce of frustration and fear and stress I’ve felt over the past week. Every moment I spent wondering whether I’d ever see her or feel her or touch her again. All of it pours out of me and into her.

  When I’m finished, I collapse beside her on the bed. Eve draws close to me, her head on my chest.

  We lie there for a long time.

  Just listening to each other breathe.

  Trying to enjoy the few minutes of peace we have together before another day dawns at the Crooked Tree Inn.

  12

  Eve

  “We can’t spend so much time together today,” I say, drawing the blankets up around my chest.

  The bed in Luka’s room is much nicer than the one in mine, and for a moment, I luxuriate in the high thread count before I fully remember where we are. When I remember, I drop the sheet, exposing my naked body.

  Luka studies my breasts, his eyes hungry despite the fact we spent most of the night making love, and then he looks away and nods. “I know.”

  He sits on the end of the bed and runs a hand through his dark hair. The muscles in his back contract and stretch, and I can’t stop myself from crawling towards him and wrapping my arms around his toned abdomen.

  He reaches back and strokes my damp hair. We took a shower together, spending much longer than required soaping each other up and finding bliss under the endless hot water.

  Now, however, sunlight streams through a crack in the curtains and birds are chirping faintly from the trees around the inn, and our little bubble has burst.

  We have to go back to the auction.

  “I hate this,” Luka groans, turning his face and leaning back so our cheeks are touching. “I fucking hate this.”

  “Me too.”

  He spins around and pushes me back onto the mattress, his hands poised on either side of my face. “I don
’t want anyone else to touch you.”

  “Me neither.”

  He strokes his thumb across my forehead, down the slope of my nose, and over my lips. “I don’t even want anyone else to look at you. I mean, you should see the way they look at you.”

  “I do,” I remind him, smoothing my hands down his chest.

  “You are the most beautiful woman here and they all want you. I want to kill them,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “You will,” I sigh, stretching up to press my lips to his.

  Luka curls a hand around the back of my head and deepens the kiss, parting my lips and slipping his tongue into my mouth until I’m liquid in his arms. Until I don’t remember where we are or what time it is or who I am. Every nerve ending in my body is focused on his mouth on mine.

  And then there is a knock at the door.

  We both stiffen, and Luka looks to the door like he will be able to see through it. Then, he plants one more kiss on my forehead, tosses the sheet over my naked body, and moves to the door.

  Standing on the other side is Kari. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a limp ponytail today, and she flinches back when shirtless Luka opens the door.

  “I’m here for Number Seven,” she says softly, looking down at the floor.

  “She isn’t ready yet,” Luka growls, probably frightening the woman even more.

  Kari looks up and past Luka to find me sprawled on the bed. Her eyebrows pinch together in concern as she studies me, clearly looking to make sure I’m okay. “I am supposed to take you to your room to shower.”

  “She is showered,” Luka says. “She doesn’t need to leave.”

  “Well, I’m supposed to—” Kari looks from Luka to me, trying to decide if she can handle this on her own.

  “Can I change here?” I ask, wrapping the sheet around my chest and sitting up. “That would be easier anyway.”

  Especially since I don’t have a dress to wear. I put the one from yesterday on after my shower, but Luka ripped the shoulder strap in his urgency to tear it off me again.

  “I brought a dress,” Kari says, holding up a red gown draped over her arm while glancing to the pile of red discarded on the floor. “Just in case you needed it.”

  Luka holds out his hand for the dress, and Kari hands it to him. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

  I nod, but Luka slams the door shut before I can say more.

  “She is scared,” I tell him when he throws the dress on the bed.

  “She called you Number Seven,” he grimaces.

  I let the sheet fall away again and move towards him on my knees. When I reach him, his large hands grip my waist, warm and firm. I wrap my arms around his neck and arch my body against his. “That is because she doesn’t know who you are to me. She doesn’t know that you aren’t like the other men here.”

  Luka looks poised to argue, but when I rock my hips against him, his eyes glaze over. He looks down at where our bodies meet and then bends to press a kiss to the top of my breast. “I’m scared, Eve.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “There are few things in this world that scare me, but the thought of not being with you, of someone taking you from me …” He grips my waist even harder, almost crushing me. He sounds haunted, like a man woken up in the middle of a nightmare.

  “That won’t happen,” I whisper, curling my finger under his chin and lifting his eyes to mine. “You are going to win every auction. In twelve hours, we’ll be back here together and nothing else will matter.”

  Luka pulls me into one last kiss, letting it linger until there are butterflies in my stomach and my hands are too shaky to dress myself.

  He helps me slip into the panties Kari brought and then zips the dress for me. It is significantly shorter than the dress from the day before, but rather than being skintight, it flares out around my thighs in a flouncy skirt. The top is still just as low cut, though, exposing more cleavage than I’m usually comfortable with.

  Luka’s nostrils flare when he looks at me. “I hate that you look so sexy in that. Everything about this place should repulse me, including the clothes they pick out for you to wear. I should despise you in this outfit.”

  I shake my head and hug him, laying my head against his chest. “I’m still your wife. You can find me sexy in anything I wear. I give you permission.”

  “Good,” he sighs, kissing the top of my head. “Because you are killing me in this dress.”

  I pull back and look up at him, mustering as much of a smile as I can. “Just know that no matter what happens today, you are the person I’m imagining ripping this dress off me.”

  He groans softly, the sound a low rumble in his chest. “How much time do you think we have?”

  “Not enough for you to ravish me properly.” I smile. “That will have to wait until tonight.”

  He takes a deep breath and nods. “Tonight.”

  Kari is waiting outside for me, just like she said, and she walks next to me in silence as we make our way through the maze towards the lounge. Finally, she looks over at me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I almost admit that I’m great—much better than I was yesterday—before I remember I am supposed to be traumatized. She thinks I was taken to bed by a stranger and tormented all night long. She has no idea that I came no less than seven times in eight hours.

  “I’m feeling strong,” I say, settling on a partial truth. I do feel strong. After being reunited with Luka, I feel more confident about my chances of getting out of here.

  Kari furrows her brow and crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s good, I guess.”

  “It is,” I agree, hoping to keep Kari from worrying about me. “I’m one day closer to getting out of this inn.”

  Another partial truth. No matter what happens with the auction, I will be leaving the inn on Wednesday.

  I just hope to God that it’s at Luka’s side, as a free woman.

  Suddenly, Kari grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop. Her eyes are wide, and she looks up and down the hallway nervously before she speaks. “It is in your best interest to accept your fate.”

  “Kari,” I sigh. “I’m not delusional. I know—”

  “No,” she says, cutting me off. “I’ve seen so many women come through here thinking their life will be one way when they leave. They are rarely ever right. To protect yourself, it would be best for you to accept the fact that you will always be someone’s property. Thinking you’ll be free again is a pipe dream.”

  She stares at me for a few seconds, trying to drive home the point, before she starts walking again.

  “How long have you been here, Kari?” I ask quietly.

  “Four years.”

  The two words are cold and devoid of emotion, but they send a shiver up my spine.

  When we get to the lounge, the bidders haven’t arrived yet, but all of the other women are standing in front of the fireplace like they are ready to take a group picture. The taller women are in back with the shorter in front, and Edgar is standing in front of them like a photographer without a camera. When he sees me and Kari walk in, he waves for me to join the group.

  “Number Seven, finally.” Then he brushes Kari aside. “Go wait in my room.”

  Without hesitation, Kari lowers her head and walks back down the hallway.

  I move to stand at the edge of the group, but Edgar directs me to the center in the back row. “The best seat for our most expensive girl.”

  He says it like a compliment, but it feels like a slap in the face.

  The other women barely move out of my way as I squeeze in, so I end up jostled back and forth between them, and I can’t even be angry. If Edgar is going to show me any special attention at all, it means they will hate me. I understand it.

  As I’m moving into position, I glance up at the electronic bidding board and see that there is already a bid for me for the day. I am the only woman who has been bid on this early in the day. I hope it is from Luka, but next to the number is a
maroon dot. I didn’t notice those the day before, but I guess it signifies who made the bid.

  My only theory is that the color of the masks coordinates with the dot on the screen. Luka is black, not maroon. There was a man in a maroon mask, and he bid on me last night.

  I suspect he is already bidding on me again, and my stomach flips.

  When I make it to the middle of the row, I realize Maddie is standing next to me. She gives me a nervous smile as I approach, and I tip my head.

  She looks younger today. She is in another purple dress, but her hair is pulled away from her face in a low twist that cascades down her back, and it highlights the softness of her cheeks.

  For her sake, I have to be strong. I have to show her how to get through this week.

  And then I have to save her.

  “Now that you are all here,” Edgar says pointedly to me. “I want to talk about what we expect from each of you.”

  As if they don’t already expect enough. Several of these women were taken to bed by strangers last night. Surely, Edgar doesn’t have the audacity to expect more of them.

  Unfortunately, he does.

  “You need to be friendlier to the guests,” he says. “I want more smiles and flirting and enticing these men to want you or you will all be punished.”

  Everyone seemed friendly enough to me the day before considering the circumstances. They should have all been reacting the way Maddie did, screaming and crying in the middle of the dance. The fact that they didn’t openly weep is impressive. But now they have to put on even more of a show.

  “And this isn’t just for my sake, but for yours, too,” Edgar explains. “You see, any woman who is not bid on by the end of the week … will be eliminated.”

  The word hangs in the air for a few seconds before I register what he means.

  Killed.

  Any woman left at the end of the week will be killed. Simple as that.

  “We do not have the resources here to keep you until next year, so your only way out is through one of our guests.”

  There are only ten guests.

  The realization hits me hard, knocking the wind from me.