CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(160)

I stood shaking as he selected some chicken and sent me on my way.

I can't do this.

Self-pity filled my empty stomach, and I stood frozen to the thick burgundy carpet.

"Move, Ms. Weaver," Jethro ordered.

My body swayed to obey but everything inside rebelled. I didn't care Mr.  Hawk had eloquently described my cage with the use of diamonds and  debts. I didn't care that I had no choice but to do as I was told.

I just couldn't do it.

My eyes flew wide as Jethro's hands landed on my shoulders. He spun me  to face him, breathing hard. "Do. It. Now." The force of his command  buckled my knees. I dropped my head.

Silently, Jethro stormed me forward, presenting me to the next man. The  platter wobbled in my hands but I stood upright while a vile mouth  suckled on my breast.

Once it was over, Jethro manhandled me to the next, whispering in my  ear, "Make me come back and show you how to behave, and I won't be nice.  You still cling to the ideology that you're better than us. That any  moment this will be over." His teeth nipped at my ear. "That's torture  because it's false. It won't happen. Accept it and be done with the  past. Accept it and embrace everything we're giving you."

Shoving me forward, he patted my backside. "I can be nice if you give me  reason to be, Ms. Weaver. Try me by behaving for the rest of the  luncheon."

I didn't watch as he left, resuming his standing position behind his father's chair.

I can be nice.

Bullshit he could be nice. But the sooner I obeyed, the sooner it was over.

So … I obeyed.

Mouths.

Fingers.

Tongues and teeth.

They all tasted. They all groped.

I thought the first course was hard. I'd clung to the morals of how wrong it was for so many men to treat one woman so unfairly.

This course did things to me I wished I could deny. Fat lips, thin lips,  hot mouths, cool mouths. They all not only took from me but gave  something in return.

A horrible realisation that my body was taking over.

My horror sank like a rock every time a man had a new taste. Slowly my  stomach fluttered; my insides rebelling against the melting that  occurred.

The men didn't care countless mouths had been on my skin. They took  turns between my left and right nipples, nibbling, sucking. I wished  they'd bite. I willed them to hurt me-something to prove how vile they  were.

But each one-old, young, trim, overweight-they all loved me. They  adoringly suckled. They moaned with such deep appreciation, I struggled  to remember this was by force not by choice. I felt as if I granted them  a gift.

A gift they truly appreciated.

Don't. Don't buy into the mindfuckery.

Even my inner voice turned slightly breathless, a lot confused, and edging toward acceptance.

I grew lightheaded as I trudged from man to man. I didn't make eye  contact with any of them. I became listless. Numb. Apart from a tiny  spark tugging on the invisible cord from my nipple to my core. I wished  it wasn't so. I craved to remain unaffected.

But slowly they turned me from intellectual businesswoman to trembling plaything.

Slowly, I grew wet.

Sharp teeth dragged my attention through the blackness that'd become my soul, back to reality.

I looked into the eyes of Daniel.

The mellow trance I'd been lulled into snapped like a rubber band. I no  longer found any acceptance or lusty appeal, only hollow rage.

"It's not much fun licking a woman when she isn't paying attention," he sneered.

My heartbeat flew terrorised around my chest. My nipple throbbed from where he'd bitten me.

Licking his lips, he added, "You taste good, Weaver, but I'm looking forward to the next course."

My heart promptly shot itself and splattered against the floor.

The next course.

No. No. No. No.

"Here. You earned this." Shoving another piece of parchment my way, I forced back my tears.

Moving awkwardly, I placed the empty tray on the sideboard, then  returned to Daniel's side. My skin broke out in goosebumps being so  close, but he dangled the parchment like a present I desperately wanted.

Taking it, I couldn't hide my shakes this time. My aloofness and spirit were gone, replaced by a brittle shaking leaf.

A leaf that was turned on and damp.

Upon reflection of his crimes, Percy Weaver hereby submits to this  esquire's ruling and moves to action the latest degree formulated in  this very chamber by Bennett Hawk. The death warrant upon the heads of  the Weaver House will be eradicated and burned upon signature of this  newly drafted document. Terms forthcoming …

That was it?

Tears spurted from my eyes. I'd let countless men suck on my breasts for no more than a tease?

How could they?

How could I?

How could I allow my body to react to their foul ministrations? I hated  myself. I hated that I couldn't hide my weakness or the stupid hormones  I'd spent my whole life ignoring.

My knees wobbled and I almost folded like an accordion to the floor.

"You pass out and you won't like what you find when you awake," Jethro said. His voice cut through my grief.

Anger battled away my tears, nursing a new warmth inside. A warmth born  of rage rather than flimsy passion. This burned hotter; it licked with  orange flames, abolishing my hunger and weakness.

I was fed by anger. I smouldered with hate. I became stronger because of  it. It gave me power to continue, but also stole my safety of  acceptance. I hissed and scalded with liveliness. I couldn't switch off.

"The next course, Ms. Weaver," Jethro commanded from his position at the  head of the table. Balling my hands, I threw away the parchment and  stalked to the sideboard.

Dessert.

I knew what would happen.

I can't do this.

You will do this.

In my rage, I made a reckless decision. I was at war with my body-why  not step over the battle line and join them? Why not embrace it? It was  yet another tool-another lesson. If I embraced the new feelings inside, I  would be better equipped at chipping away at Jethro's cold exoskeleton  of ice and burrowing my way into his warmth.         

     



 

I would make him care.

I would pleasure him.

Then I would kill him.

My legs scissored together. Everything inside curled deeper into hiding.  The moment I went near the table, I would lose all control. I didn't  trust my body. It overpowered me every time. And it sucked to be in this  mess with a traitor.

Get it over and done with.

Taking a deep breath, I collected my last course.

Passing Jethro with a gilded tray of mini éclairs, bon bons, and trifles, I kept my eyes down. He'd torment me, no doubt.

Sure enough, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, forcing me to face  him. His breathing was slightly uneven; his voice lost a tiny shred of  chilliness. "Get through this, and I'll reward you. I'll be kind,  because you deserve it." Pressing a possessive kiss on my cheek, he  whispered, "I'll wipe it all away."

I was struck dumb by the rare and scarily beautiful glimpse at a man I  didn't know existed. But then I blinked as Jethro's ice slid back into  place, a grim smirk on his lips. "My offer only stands as long as you  don't speak, act out, or disappoint me."

Unwinding his arm, he shoved me toward his father.

Almost drunkenly, I moved toward Mr. Hawk. My stomach quivered with  trepidation; my heart was prey running frantically for its life.

Mr. Hawk smiled, holding up another piece of paper. "Here. Your last one  until you've completed this final service. I think you deserve it,  don't you?" His eyes raked down the front of my ridiculous maid's  uniform. The cap had stayed in place-how, I didn't know.

Patting my arse, he added, "I must admit you refrained beautifully, even  your mother who was my favourite, didn't do so elegantly at her first  dinner party."

I ignored that, latching onto the parchment.

Mr. Hawk motioned me to put the tray on the table, before handing over the small piece.

Percy Weaver and family hereby acknowledge his agreeance to the one and  only term set forth by Bennett Hawk. In accordance with the law, both  parties have agreed that the paperwork is binding, unbreakable, and  incontestable from now and forever. Details and parties of both  signatures are displayed on the enclosed verified document, henceforth  known as the Debt Inheritance.

My eyes met his.

If only I had the rest. I would scream and give up the charade of  obedience. I was done. I would take pain to avoid what was about to  happen. I would take pain rather than pleasure because then I would  still know myself. The longer this went on, the less in-tune I was with  the girl I'd been.

Too many feelings. Too many sensors. Too many rabbit-holes with too many right and wrongs.

You're giving up so soon? They killed your mother! They've broken your  father's heart. Could I not stomach some unpleasantness and confusion in  order to find a way to repay them?

Disappointment weighed my heart. I thought I'd have more endurance.

No. I won't give in.

This is nothing. Be that kite. Cut your strings again.

Bracing my shoulders, I moved closer to Mr. Hawk without being asked.

His eyes widened, then a grin spread his lips. "Good girl, indeed."  Bowing his head, his arm wrapped around my waist, tilting me back a  little. "You're proving to be a testament to my son's training."