Under His Rule (His 1)

A sly smile adorns his face, and I almost contemplate grabbing this knife lying on the table in front of me and stabbing him with it.

But that would defeat everything I’ve worked so hard for, so I let it go instead and sigh.

“Patrick.”

“Noah,” he replies. “The president would like to have a word.”

Natalie

My eyes are turned down at the floor. I don’t know why, but I’m terrified to look the man in the eyes. The president’s mere presence makes me cower.

The doors slide open and close again. Patrick’s gone again. Did he just bring back the president to frame Noah? To expose me and get us punished? It’s the only answer.

Noah hasn’t turned around to face him yet. He’s still looking at me from the corner of his eyes while I’m frozen to the ground.

“We’ll finish this later,” he murmurs to me, and I nod.

“Care to introduce me?” the president grumbles. The man seems far older up close, but I haven’t gotten a good look yet, only brief flashes when I manage to glance at him.

Noah takes a last bite of an apple lying on the table before spinning around. “Natalie, President Lawrence,” he says, pointing at both of us.

I bow like I’m supposed to … how I was trained to respond in front of superior men. But on the inside, I’m screaming.

“Up,” the president barks, and I immediately stand like a rigid rock. For the first time, I’m looking straight at the man who runs this whole show, and he’s looking back at me. He brushes his fingers through the gray streaks of hair that are neatly brushed, his stern eyes still fear-inducing as he postures in front of me. This is a man whose age doesn’t matter. A man who will still terrify the hearts of many even on his deathbed. The kind of man who could rule a country … or become a violent dictator.

He narrows his eyes at me, and for a second there, I almost feel as though I should hide behind Noah for protection. But then he focuses his attention on Noah.

“So this is it? This is what you choose to do with your time?” he asks.

Noah nods with certainty. He won’t back down, even when caught in the act, even when this man judges us with a single stare and Noah will probably end up in hot water. “She’s … special to me.”

President Lawrence rubs his lips together as his eyes twitch while they scour over the food-splattered table … and my food-splattered dress and hair. He takes in a breath and clears his throat.

“You and I have to talk,” he says to Noah.

Noah’s face tightens, and he replies, “Yes.”

He ogles me from the corner of his eye. “Go to your room and wait there until you’re called.”

I throw him a look—one that means a million times “I hate you”—but it doesn’t seem to affect him at all. Begrudgingly, I walk past the president, who briefly glances at me before I open the doors and close them behind me.

My lungs fill with air, and I suck it all up as though I haven’t taken a breath in years.

I can’t believe that just happened.

That I laid there on that table and let Noah lick me until I came.

That the president caught us as I lay there still enjoying the delicious waves of orgasmic pleasure.

That I wish Noah could’ve continued.

I’m sick.

I’m so sick in the head. What’s happening to me? I stumble up the stairs and try to come to terms with what just happened, but my mind keeps spinning in circles. Should I go upstairs? Go back inside? Scream and shout? Throw a fit? Rip off this dress and throw it in his face?

I’m so angry with him, but more importantly, I’m angry with myself.

I shouldn’t have let him touch me, shouldn’t have let myself go at that moment, shouldn’t have … all the things, but it felt so fucking good. He knows how to wrap me around his finger, and I hate it. I hate it so much that I want to scream and throw everything around.

But that won’t do me any good. At best, it’ll get me some time to speak my mind. At worst … well, that hut where they kept me is the last place on earth I want to end up again, but I know Noah would do it. He’d put me there just to make a point.

I am his, and there’s no way to fight it.

That man. This house.

It’s going to be my undoing.

Chapter 21

Noah

Natalie’s gone, but this room still smells like her.

The table still carries the mark of her sweet wetness.

And nothing’s more appetizing right now than the food she lay in. I want to eat it all and then finish the job with her upstairs.

But this man in front of me won’t let me, and I know why.