Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“I’ll help you with that,” I tell him, trying to come across as nonchalant but failing miserably. My hands shake with rage at what I’m about to do. I stand in front of Marissa.
“Head up,” I order. “Lift your arms.”
She obeys, keeping her eyes cast down as she does so. I don’t want to do this. I’ll fucking kill Tomas for making me. For laying eyes on my woman.
But if I don’t comply, I’ll never be able to get her out of here.
With a firm tug, I remove her sheath. I ball the fabric up in my hands. I want to wrap it around Erik’s neck and pull, until he writhes in my death grip and his body slumps lifeless to the floor. I step back, allowing the motherfuckers to see her naked, swallowing the anger that threatens to strangle me.
The other two do the same. The women barely react, clearly accustomed to being humiliated in front of others. The realization stokes my anger.
“Beautiful,” Tomas says, and I swear I can see his fucking hard-on from where I stand. “Fucking gorgeous. Well done, boys. Erik, get a close up of each of the women.” Erik stands back and holds his phone above his head, to give Tomas a clear view.
“Yakov purchased the blonde,” Erik says. “I was partial to the little Asian girl. And Aleks secured the brunette.”
“A nice variety,” Tomas says with a mirthless chuckle. “Veritable fucking smorgasbord.”
Oh no this is fucking not, I think. The brunette is fucking off the table.
“Are they well behaved?” Tomas asks. He has only a trace of the Russian accent I’m familiar with, but there’s something about him that screams pakhan. A ruthlessness to his eyes I’m woefully familiar with.
“We haven’t had them long enough to know,” Yakov says, his eyes focused on the blonde kneeling naked before him. “But time will tell.”
“I want them trained before you bring them home,” Tomas says. “We have no use for defiant women. You bought them as slaves, to obey their masters, and that’s exactly what I expect.”
Yakov and I nod, and Erik mutters, “Fuck yes.” The girls don’t move.
I want this conversation to end. If Erik doesn’t end the call soon, I will tear the phone out of his grasp and break it.
“Make them stand,” Tomas says.
“On your feet,” I bark out, before anyone else can tell my woman what to do. The three girls quickly get to their feet. Erik steps around them, his phone held high.
“The blonde is neatly shaved,” Tomas says approvingly. “I like it. She’s got perfect breasts.”
“She does,” Yakov says tightly. Seems maybe I’m not the only one who wants to stake a claim on a girl.
“And the middle one with the black hair has beautiful eyes. So petite and lovely.”
“Isn’t she, though,” Erik says. He runs the tip of his boot along her naked foot.
Fucking bastard. Like she’s a fucking car he wants to buy and he’s kicking the tires.
“But the brunette…” Tomas voice trails off. “She’s stunning.”
Marissa lifts her head so quickly the others jump, startled.
“Eyes down,” I bark. I do not want her fucking drawing any more attention to herself than necessary. But she doesn’t obey, panic flitting across her features. I can feel the stern disapproval over the phone, my two future brothers watching me to see how I’ll handle her. When I don’t make a move, Erik lifts his hand to strike her, and I react so quickly I have to school my features so I don’t snarl at him.
“I’ve got it,” I say to him, grabbing his wrist raised above her ready to strike.
He nods and winces. “Alright, alright,” he says. “Fucking let go.”
I release him so quickly he stumbles, rubbing his reddened wrist. I take a step toward Marissa. I know I’m on display for Tomas and Yakov and Erik, and I better not fucking mess this up. If he thinks she’s untrained, we’re fucking screwed.
Tomas chuckles on the phone. “Easy, Aleks.” He’s amused, the bastard.
I reach for Marissa’s chin and yank her eyes to mine.
“This is your last warning, slave,” I say, my voice tight with anger, though not at her. “Did you hear your instruction?”
“Yes, sir,” she says, nodding her head.
“Do you know what happens if you disobey a master?”
“I—I’m punished, sir.”
“Do you wish for me to punish you?”
She shakes her head rapidly. “N—no, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Step forward.”
She steps toward me so quickly she wobbles a little on her feet. I right her by grabbing her arm, then swing her out and slam my palm against the curve of her ass. She cries out. I hate myself. I fucking hate myself, because I like this. I like staking my claim on her and dominating her in front of a crowd.
“Apologize for your disobedience,” I order.
I despise what I’m doing, even the knowledge that this is for her own good no longer holding the weight it did just moments ago.