Where do they make guys like these?
Before I start blushing as an obvious coping mechanism, I look around, get my bearings. The “dungeon” is insane. They’ve spent years on this place. And somehow, knowing that makes me feel… special.
All of this for little ol’ me.
I don’t have time to dwell when the voice echoes, “I have returned!”
Rory appears with a dramatic flourish. I almost choke on my laugh. He’s dressed like a damn ringmaster. Black top hat tilted at a cocky angle, polished boots shining in the dim lantern light, a sleek cane tapping rhythmically against the stone floor as if he’s counting down to some twisted finale.
“Nice costume,” I taunt, jutting my chin toward his Briella-butchered ear. “You got a little red on your neck there.”
Rory doesn’t even glance at me, fully embracing the moment. His every move is dripping with over-the-top swagger. He stops as Raphael advances, but circles me like a predator, hands folded calmly behind his back.
And then…Raphael gives Rory the smallest nod of approval.
That’s all Rory needs.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he announces, his voice booming, echoing off the cavern walls like thunder. He spreads his arms wide, the cane sweeping in a grand arc. There’s a glint in his eye—wild, unhinged, and a little too pleased. “Tonight, we bid the greatest welcome to our little slice of hell’s paradise…”
He stalks toward me, slow and deliberate, savoring the moment. “Briella…” he pauses, leaning in close, his breath warm against my ear.
I hate how it makes my skin crawl and surges a disturbing heat in my stomach.
“Didn’t quite catch your last name, Lass,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, following with a quick nip at my earlobe. I hiss, jerking against my chains as fire shoots through my veins. The grin on his face grows wider, almost feral.
“Miss. Go Fuck Yourself,” I snap, glaring up at him despite the tremble I’m trying to hide. I am impressed. How twisted is that?
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. So disappointing. This is vintage, Firecracker.” He runs a hand down his uniform.
For a moment, the room is quiet. I shiver because they’re all nude. Except for Raphael. He’s still in his perfect suit with his perfect hair with his perfect mask.
And Rory? He just laughs. Full, throaty, and wild.
“Level 3, Raph?” he says, twirling his cane theatrically as he steps back, surveying me like I’m a prize. “Best. Birthday. Ever!”
I glare at him, fists clenched tight even though the cold, damp air chills me to my bones. Because yeah, I’m terrified. But I’ll be damned if I let him—or any of them—see it.
This might betheirshow, but I’ll make damn sure I don’t play the part they want.
The sociopath swingshis cane again, landing a strike against my left breast. A cry leaves my mouth, muffled by the leather strip Seth placed in my mouth earlier. Good sign, they want my teeth intact.
Rory slaps the cane against my other breast before rubbing the handle along my nipple.
He laughs maniacally before gripping my throat. Hard enough to choke, to bruise. “Aren’t you adorable? Such pretty pink nipples for such a pretty Lass. Look at them so hard, so stiff for me. Aye, ye’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
My back is on fire from the blows. And my ass. And my thighs. Level 3 involves bruises and welts. But I have a feeling we’re not even close to the worst. My arm muscles are numb. I might have a high pain tolerance, but it grew over years of subtle exposure vs this trial by fire.
I still prefer the fire.
“Mmm!” I screech lightly, shaking the chains. It’s the signal for Seth to temporarily remove the leather strip. I guess Raphael is okay with me talking. I could kiss his feet for that! Not that I have a foot fetish or anything.
Once the gag is off, I gasp and deadpan with Rory. “No, but I’m worried about you, Red. All that cane-swinging.” I smile boldly even as he matches it, but with a grin. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt that hand. I imagine you’ll need it for other activities later.”
He chuckles darkly, eyes gleaming. “Aye, fisting is afunactivity.”
My stomach pitches. He’s not joking.
“My hand is about to get a lot busier, Firecracker,” Rory warns before rounding the one side of my body.
