Ryland’s Sacrifice
Principles don’t pay tuition fees.When Ryland’s doctoral maths scholarship disappears overnight, he has two choices.He can borrow money from fellow student, Jason Burrows, who has very interesting ways of collecting debts.Or, he can volunteer to be thrown to the werelions.
One night spent playing the part of a willing human sacrifice to the local pride will give him enough money to finish his PhD.It seems like a good deal—right up until the moment he finds himself naked, blindfolded, bound and surrounded by lions.
Chapter One
He wasn’t completely naked.Ryland Gilford silently repeated that fact over and over inside his head.He wasn’t completely naked.But, even though that was technically true, it did little to reassure him.
According to his careful calculations, approximately sixteen square inches of his skin were hidden away.Unfortunately, neither the leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists, nor the blindfold over his eyes, concealed any of those parts of his anatomy he generally preferred to keep covered in the presence of strangers.
Suddenly, the car he was in lurched to a stop.The seat belt tightened across his chest as he was flung forward.His bound arms dug into his spine as he was tossed back against the seat again.
Dragging deep lungfuls of air into his body, Ryland scrambled for a different, more effective, mantra—one that wouldn’t remind him he was stark bollock naked every two seconds.
A good education cost money?That was more promising.Maybe, if he concentrated very hard on remembering why he’d agreed to do something so blatantly, bloody stupid, he could manage to survive the night with some little part of his sanity intact.
A good education cost money.University fees have to be paid.Rent has to be found.Enough spare change to buy a meal or two during each academic year would be nice, too.
Remembering those facts helped a little, but it wasn’t enough.He still felt sick to his stomach.The car turned a sharp corner, making him sway in his seat before he finally managing to right himself.The chauffeur’s driving really wasn’t helping his efforts not to give way to nervous nausea.
Still, it was better than being driven around by one of Jason Burrows’s drivers…
Ryland took a deep breath and let it out very slowly.Yes, that was what he really needed to remember.Throwing himself into this stupidity might be putting him on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but that was still better than anything that put him into the hands of the only man at the university who might be willing to lend money to a doctorial mathematics student whose funding had vanished into the murky depths of the recession.
Ryland had heard far too much about the way Jason Burrows liked to call in his debts.The rumours made him out to be very inventive in certain areas.Anything had to be better than that—even this.
The car jerked to a stop once more.Silence filled the world as the driver killed the engine.Ryland’s breath caught in his throat as he realised this wasn’t just another set of traffic lights.
Unable to see anything past his blindfold, he listened as the driver got out of the car.Suddenly, the door next to him was pulled open.Cold air rushed into the back of the car.Clothes brushed against Ryland’s bare skin as someone leaned in and undid his seatbelt.The driver’s breath caressed his neck.
Ryland tried to press himself tight back against the seat and the buckles on the leather cuffs stabbed him in the spine.A second later, a calloused hand caught hold of Ryland’s arm and dragged him unceremoniously out of the car.He stumbled as he tried to get his balance.The chauffeur took no notice.
The gravel that crunched under the driver’s shoes bit into Ryland’s bare feet as he was marched forward.They stopped as abruptly as they’d started.A yank on Ryland’s arm kept him upright when he’d have stumbled again.It also damn near wrenched his shoulder out of the socket.
A doorbell rang.
The driver let go of his arm, and Ryland rolled his shoulder as much as his restraints would allow, as if the fact that it felt like someone had set his shoulder on fire was actually the main thing he needed to be worried about.
Footsteps stomped over the gravel again, growing fainter as they moved further away from him.
“Where are you going?”Ryland silently cursed himself.He really hadn’t intended to sound so nervous, but the words already hung in the cool evening air and it was too late to wish they’d been braver.
A car started up.Ryland turned toward it.“What the—” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no other words materialised.
No one had said anything about him being left on a doorstep like a sodding parcel.Some frightened little part of him knew there were a hell of a lot of details he probably should have checked out before he’d launched himself into this stupid mess.And, maybe if Ryland believed himself capable of finding out those sorts of particulars and still going through with it, he would have asked every single one of the right questions.
Pity, then, that he was well aware that he really wasn’t that kind of man.If he’d let himself find out too much about the horrible little charade he’d volunteered to take part in, he wouldn’t have entered into it calm and well-informed.He’d have run away before anyone had a chance to strip him down and lock those idiotic cuffs around his wrists.
And what would he have done then?Borrow the money from Jason Burrows?Drop out and prove his parents had been right when they’d said he’d never complete his education without crawling back to them and begging for their help, as if there was any chance they’d actually help a son that they had effectively disowned years ago.
A cool breeze danced over Ryland’s skin, reminding him it was far too late to wish things were different.He was in this now; he had no choice but to see it through.A shiver raced down his spine.The evening air seemed to have a mind of its own.It concentrated all its efforts on blowing against his exposed cock, apparently rather amused by the fact that he couldn’t put his hands in front of his body to cover himself, that he couldn’t even see to find a bush to hide behind.
Silence surrounded him, leaving him in no doubt he had been left all alone in some nameless person’s driveway.
“Please, God, let it be the right house,” he whispered to himself.That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?Please, don’t let it belong to some nice little old lady who’s going to phone the police and demand they come and arrest the flasher lurking in her front garden.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re definitely in the right place.”The words were purred just a few inches from his ear.Ryland spun around, as if the blindfold might conveniently disappear and allow him to see his…his attacker?Or perhaps one of his owners for the rest of the night?Which would be worse?
