Page 70 of Forbidden Desire

“I anoint you with the petals of my island.” Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled at Desiree. “May the gods bless your forthcoming union the way they have blessed ours.”

Elodie

I COULD BARELY CATCH my breath, the intensity of everyone’s scrutiny suffocating as Rasmie returned to his chair. I was naked and entirely exposed, having already been tipped over Jeemie’s knees—the third time in only two days. As if that ignominy wasn’t dreadful enough, I now had to contend with the entire village not only witnessing my debasement but being encouraged to inspect me as I dangled from the wooden rack.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I was grateful I wasn’t facing the throng. Their jeers were easier to dismiss when all I could see was Jeemie’s lustful expression, though it was difficult to forget they had a first-class view of my tender backside.

“You look incredible,” Jeemie praised, grazing his fingers over my left breast.

“Jeemie.” It was painful to admit, but I wanted him—something about my current helpless predicament both terrified and excited me in equal measure.

“Soon,” he promised as though he could read my mind. Leaning forward, he planted a chaste kiss on my forehead just as his digits pinched my pebbling nipple. I gasped at the sudden hurt, groaning as it morphed into liquefying heat. “I cannot wait for you to be mine.”

“Jeemie.”

He turned at his brother’s voice, glancing back to me a moment later.

“One moment, doe nighean.”

Leaving me panting, he spun and wandered the short distance to where Rasmie and Desiree sat, enjoying the spectacle I was providing. Unable to fathom everything that had happened to me in such a short space of time, my eyes closed, hoping the lack of vision would block out the growing leers. A few seconds reassured me it would not.

“My, my...”

I tensed at a new voice I knew but couldn’t place. His accent reminded me of home, but as I turned my head, Charlie’s sneering face was the last I expected to see. “Another sister has arrived. How lovely.”

“Charlie?” I couldn’t quite believe it was him, his drab clothes and muddied face so unlike the surfer boy I’d once known.

“Look at the state of you.” An insidious smirk stretched across his features. “All bared and available. Who knew what sluts the Robinson women were?”

I cringed at his leering face, wishing I could draw away but was completely powerless to do so. Charlie, like any of the baying mob, could accost me at any time and do whatever the hell they liked. Fettered like this, I was reliant on Jeemie’s goodwill to protect me, and he wasn’t even here to witness the antagonist.

“Not to you,” I insisted, surprised at my conviction, considering how ensnared I was. “Especially after you betrayed Des. I should kick you into tomorrow.”

“Dream on, El.” His dark chuckle rang out. “What are you gonna do?”

“Fuck you!” I hissed, rejecting my growing apprehension. There was no way I was going to give a moron like Charlie Webster the satisfaction of horrifying me.

“Oh, yes, please, El.” He ogled me, making my flesh crawl. “Since I couldn’t do your sister, you might make a decent substitute.”

“Keep your mouth closed, vermin!” Jeemie snapped, his gruff tone quite unfamiliar from the tender man I’d bedded. He closed the distance between Rasmie and Charlie in a split second, his gaze falling over me fleetingly. “Or I’ll close it for you.”

I’d never seen predatory anger like the sort that burned in his gaze, and as Jeemie loomed over Charlie, I was glad I wasn’t the subject of his wrath.

“It’s okay,” I reassured. “He was just leaving.”

“Aye,” Jeemie agreed through gritted teeth. “You are, aren’t you? I’m sure you don’t want a reminder of what happened to you in the pillory?”

“Stay away from me, man.” Charlie held up his palms as he stumbled away from him, his knees buckling before he landed in the dirt.

“Make yourself scarce,” Jeemie growled. “You have work to do.”

Tugging at the straps holding me in place, I waited as Charlie scuttled away.

“What happened to him in the pillory?” I asked, conscious I might not like the answer. “Is that where his so-called justice was served?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jeemie’s expression relaxed as he pressed into me. “He knows he has no right near my or Rasmie’s possessions.”

“Is that what I am to you?” My breath caught, though I couldn’t rationalize why it was so intoxicating to be objectified.