“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” I pulled Cate’s top back into place. “We all do what we have to do.”
He scrubbed his jaw, and a slight smile curved his lips. “I think I can live with it as long as I get a full taste of your little Cate before the night is out.”
The bitch in the trunk banged around some more.
“I can’t wait to meet yours. What’s her name?”
“Morgan. Hired her a couple weeks ago to be my maid. No family, no close friends. You know the deal.”
“Yeah, Cate doesn’t speak to her family. A real sob story.” I kissed her on the cheek. “Isn’t that right, little one?”
The driver opened my door.
“Let me go.” Cate tried to push away from me, but she was still too weak.
“Let you go?” I pulled her out of the car with me, then walked her up the front stairs as Caleb freed his girl from the trunk. “Why would I do something silly like that?”
Marie Vanth met me just inside the foyer, her black robe covering a sleek form, and a stole of raven’s feathers decorating her shoulders.
She smiled and gave me a slight bow. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” I hefted Cate around to my front. “We’re ready. And the money’s already been wired.”
“I know.” She smiled, the slight crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes the only tell as to her age. Her smooth alabaster skin could be thirty or sixty, or even older if the rumors about her were true. “Everything is prepared. Please enjoy yourselves.” She stepped back and one of her servants, a young man with hair as black as Vanth’s, guided us down a dark-paneled hallway lit solely with black candles. He seemed almost familiar, but perhaps I’d seen him on my last visit.
“I want to go home.” Cate tried to dig in her heels, but I pulled her along with me. The drug hadn’t worn off enough for her to put up a real fight … yet.
My blood heated and my cock thickened at how she would struggle when the ritual began. That was the fun part, the highlight of my trip.
Ten years ago, I’d brought another young, stupid secretary to Madame Vanth’s home. What happened that night was the only reason I shot to the top of the corporate world. From the COO of a shitty startup with zero potential to the man on the cover of Forbes—I had amazing good fortune. And all it took was a little sacrifice. The last girl was an easy loss. She was a shit secretary and an even worse fuck, but she bled out just fine. Cate was different, more alive somehow. I almost regretted how this evening would end for her, but not enough to change our path.
“Sir.” The servant motioned us into the ballroom along the back of the house.
We entered the room with soaring windows, black floors and walls, and a fire marshal’s worst nightmare of candles. Two others were already working on lashing their sacrifices to benches, beds, or the chains that hung from the high ceiling. Each cry and muffled scream sent a shot of adrenaline pumping through me.
“I can’t wait for you to scream for me.” I grabbed the front of Cate’s shirt and ripped it apart.
“Stop.” She slapped my hand, lost her balance, and fell back onto a deep emerald divan.
I made quick work of her skirt even though she tried to kick me a few times. Her shoes fell off during the struggle. When she was completely bare, I lifted her and perched her on the leather horse. She fought, getting stronger by the second, but I strapped her hands and then her feet.
“Let me go!” She yanked at the leather cuffs around her wrists, but she was held fast.
I plucked a ball gag from the small table set up beside the divan.
She shook her head. “No!”
“Open.” I stood in front of her.
She clamped her jaw shut and turned her head.
“Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it?” I grabbed her hair and wrenched her head around to me. “Because I don’t have to, you know?” I trailed my hands around to her ass, her pussy on full display from the back. Running my fingers along her wet slit, I stroked her as she writhed and fought. But it didn’t take long until she was panting, her hips moving against my fingers. She couldn’t help herself. Fucking hot. I returned to her face and strapped the ball gag on as she stared at me through a haze of lust and fear.
More people had arrived as I’d played with her pussy, the room set up for maybe half a dozen couples.
“Fewer people this year,” I called to Caleb.
“More good luck for us, I suppose.” He manhandled his girl—a fiery one with dark hair and angry eyes—onto a bed, strapping her wrists with leather cuffs.