The Initiation (Filthy Rich Americans 1)

I took in a sharp, painful breath. I’d given Macalister so much power over me, he’d become my master.

She wiped at a tear. “Royce told me at the end of our date that it didn’t matter what either of us wanted. Macalister wasn’t going to give up unless I married someone else or got pregnant by the time I graduated.” A wrinkle creased her forehead. “I thought it was my only way out. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you’d have to take my place.”

When more tears welled up in her eyes, I went on autopilot. My sister was hurting, and I needed to comfort her.

“It’s okay,” I soothed. She shook as I hugged her. Or maybe I was the one shaking.

Not with anger, but with fear. Her words rang terribly true. I’d negotiated myself away from Macalister tonight, denying him what he clearly thought was his right. Was he eventually going to want to claim it anyway?

“It’s going to be all right,” I said, trying to convince us both.

When the worst of her tears seemed to subside, she pulled back and gave me a firm look. “Promise me.”

How could I? I opened my mouth, but she cut me off.

“Just be careful. I don’t trust any of them. This town is full of liars, and I think the Hales might be the worst of all. And the Marist I know would hate this life you’re signing up for.”

My phone chimed with a text. I ignored all the social media notifications on my screen and went to my messages. It was Royce, wondering where I was. I put on the bravest face I could muster. “I’ll be careful.”

She looked resigned. “Good. You might be marrying into that family,” her tone was grim, “but please don’t become one of them.”

The conversation with Emily churned in my head as I made my way back toward the party. I took off my torturous shoes and clutched them by the heels in one hand, and since I was walking barefoot, I took the longer, grassy route to head back.

Beyond the backside of the maze, the grass stopped and gave way to the woods. The sun had just set, and under the cover of the trees, it was dark. But a stick snapped underfoot and alerted me that something was moving in there.

No, not something. Someone.

A pleasured sigh—distinctly male—echoed amongst the trees.

“What’s got you so worked up?” I could hear the smile in his rich, vaguely familiar voice. “Thinking about Marist?”

At the sound of my name, I went stock still. I couldn’t see much of him, only a sliver of his outline between two tree trunks, which meant it was unlikely he could see me.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” He gave a short laugh, and there was rustling as he moved. “Please don’t stop.”

I moved as stealthily as possible, careful not to trip over the roots as I ducked behind one of the bigger oak trees.

“I’m just saying, usually you want to go straight to fucking.” He let out a staggered breath. “Fuck, yes. Suck it.”

“Hmm,” a woman purred. Her voice was too low to distinguish. “Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that.”

I put a hand on the rough, furrowed bark and peered around the side of the tree. My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness, but I saw outlines. Wicked shapes hidden among the trees. He was slumped back against one, and she was kneeling, her bulbous dress around her as she bobbed at him.

When his arms moved, she slowed. “What are you doing?”

Her voice was much clearer and terribly familiar.

“I want video of you taking me deep,” he said.

She hesitated but didn’t object. When her figure resumed moving, he unleashed a long moan. The phone in his hand lit up, shining down its overly bright light, and Alice blinked rapidly up against it. I could see the shaft of the thick dick in her mouth, wet with her saliva.

She slid all the way until her petal pink lips were flush around his base.

And because he was videoing, the lit screen cast enough light upward so I could make out his handsome face.

Holy shit.

I backed away, stumbling over the uneven ground, and almost dropped the shoes in my hand, but thankfully my hasty retreat had been silent.

“I’m going to put it on Instagram and show them how talented you are,” Vance teased in a seductive voice.

I hurried away before they saw me, trying to wipe the image from my mind. Did Royce know? Did Macalister?

When I returned to the party, I found my fiancé chatting with Noemi and her husband Joseph about the perks of eloping. I slipped in beside Royce, struggling to catch my breath.

There was pride in Noemi’s voice. “The press didn’t find out we’d gotten married for weeks.”

Royce laughed. “Yeah, that wouldn’t fly in my family. Alice says the only way to control what the press says is to feed it to them.” He glanced at me and did a double-take. Whatever expression I was making caused concern. “Hey. Everything okay?”