Page 53 of Deadmen's Queen

“Is that so? I thought you were looking for the bathroom.”

His other hand trailed up my bare arm, making goosebumps rise up against his touch. His fingers slid along my collarbone then up, wrapping gently around my throat. I inhaled sharply.

“She has lovely smooth skin, Percy,” he said. “She feels right.”

“Indeed,” Trevelyan murmured, his eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as he stepped closer.

“Older pussy is better than no pussy,” Carver said, the hand on my stomach moving lower to cup between my legs. His words felt like barbed wire, tearing through the fabric of my self-worth, reducing me to nothing more than a commodity. I pushed off the desk, shoving forward, but he pushed me back again, his fingers tightening around my throat.

“You know, as Syndicate members, you belong to us too, Persephone,” Carver said, leaning close and murmuring in my ear.

Trevelyan, now close enough that I could feel his breath hot on my face, slid his hand into the neckline of the dress. His fingertips found flesh, cupping my breast in a squeeze that was both possessive and dismissive. A sickening reminder that they saw me as a mere object for their pleasure.

“Charming,” he commented, his voice dripping with satisfaction, as if he were appraising a piece of art to hang on his wall. Not a living, breathing person, but a still life created for his viewing.

“Quite,” Carver agreed.

“I don’t,” I choked out. “I belong to Bast. And Nate. And Tristan. No one else is allowed to touch me.”

Carver laughed. “My dear, Nate turned tail and ran when I put my arm around your waist. You really think he’d have the balls to come in here and stop me doing whatever I want?”

Desperation clawed at my insides, vying with the rising bile of terror and revulsion.

“Shh,” Carver soothed mockingly, as though comforting a child.

I fought the urge to retch and I grabbed Carver’s wrist in a feeble attempt to pry his fingers from my throat. Carver's smirk widened at my futile attempts, and he began to pull up my dress. My skin crawled beneath his touch, and I yanked brutally at his wrist. Carver laughed.

“Feisty,” he noted. “I like that.” He gripped my hip, tightly, the fabric of my dress still wadded in his hand, and turned me round, forcing me down on the desk.

“No,” I cried out. “I’ll scream.”

“They won’t hear you,” Carver said calmly. “And I’m sure Trevelyan will put something in your mouth to keep you quiet.” He pushed my dress up over my back, baring me to him, and ran his hand down over my ass.

“No underwear. How accommodating, my dear. And such a small round little ass. How I wish my son had brought you home a few years ago. Never mind. You’re small enough.” His fingers dipped between my ass cheeks and I cried out in pain as he forced a finger into my ass.

“Mmm,” he said. “Tight.” He leaned forward and murmured in my ear. “Hold on, dear. This is going to hurt.”

I heard the clink of his buckle, and felt the hardness of his cock pressing against my ass. Tears ran down my face onto the desk.

There was a loud knock on the door and Carver paused, his dick in his hand.

“What is it? I’m busy?”

“My lord, Mr Kozlov wanted to introduce you to Mr Ilyin before he left for the night.”

“Shit,” cursed Carver. “Tell Mr Kozlov I’ll be right down.”

I felt him move away, and heard him zipping up his trousers, but I lay there, too terrified to move. His hand cracked down on my ass making me jump.

“Never mind, dear. Next time, maybe. Trevelyan, I’m afraid you’ll want to be there for this introduction too, or I’d let you take over.”

“I do. It's a shame, but she is a bit old for me. I have a party next weekend though. Will you be attending this month? I have a new addition that I think you’ll be very pleased with.”

“I’ll be there,” Carver said. “It’s been too long.” He pulled my dress down, and tugged me up from the desk by my hand. Tucking my hand under his arm, he guided me to the door like the quintessential gentleman.

“It was lovely meeting you, Persephone. I am sorry to cut our time together short. Perhaps if I find you later…”

He turned to lock the door of the office and I yanked my hand away from his arm.