The gray in his eyes becomes lighter, almost blue, and he catches my eyes again.
He's here. It's him.
They darken again, and my heart falls. He sits behind me in the chair, a leg on either side, so my back is against his chest. I sink into him, craving his arms around me and the familiarity and safety of them. I turn my head and look at him then gasp.
He rolls the diamond ball on my clit. The chains squeeze my breasts, and his other hand plays with my nipples. "Don't look at me, look at them. It's their turn. But you will not come until I permit you."
My body wants him. I hate him for doing this to me when they are so close and telling me not to look at him. It's cruel, and every fear I have comes out.
Everything Bernadette told me would happen does. The men peer so closely at my sex, I can feel their stale breath. They inhale several times, as if my scent feeds them. I can't stop quivering in fear, but I'm also dripping with sweat and arousal from Malin's never-ending slow burn of fire. From time to time, he whispers things in French to me I don't understand, and it reminds me that he's not the devil like these other men. But he doesn't slow his touch. He keeps me burning hot and then will change to English and talk so the others hear, calling me his slave, or telling me to call him Master.
But I won't. I refuse to say anything to him and try to contain the whimpers flowing out of my mouth.
I think the viewing is over, but one man waits until the others have all left.
The President steps forward and sniffs me. Malin wraps his arms around me tighter, but the President barks, "Kneel."
Malin's body stiffens.
I shake so hard, my teeth chatter. He's a Global Leader. I have to submit to all of them.
Malin rises, unlocks my cuffs, and looks me in the eyes while unwrapping the chain from my breasts. He loops it several times around his hand and turns.
I find my footing, get off the scorpion, then drop to my knees.
Malin stands next to me, the leash tight around one hand, and fists my hair so my head tilts up. "Look closely now. You'll never have what's mine."
And I wish that was the end. That the President would look at me and Malin and I could leave. But I know it's impossible. The night is only beginning.
22
Malin
She's my property. I own her. I repeat it too many times to count. It's what Gustave told me to do to get through what I can't avoid.
I don't know if I've shifted enough. I've tried with everything in me, but the pitching of my stomach never stops.
She said she hated me. I didn't need her to tell me. I saw it in her eyes, along with her desire and fear.
I want to yell for every man to get away from her. They sniff her like a dog would, trying to find its mate. Other women do lewd things in front of her. Evil eyes watch every part of her as I manipulate her body, praying she doesn't go over the edge.
She's doing so well. But it doesn't stop my guilt or worry. Once this night is over, I have to put her back together again. I fear I won't be able to. That any trust she had in me will be gone, and the reasons we had to do this won't be strong enough to forgive me for what I'm doing and still have yet to unleash upon her.
The President makes the blonde woman get on her back. He orders the black woman to give her oral sex, while he fucks her, slapping her ass and yelling at Emilia to make herself come.
I step behind ma belle, put my hands over her shoulders and onto her breasts, trying to cover her up in front of him. Her hot tears hit my hands, and I cringe.
The bylaws state I can't get her away from him until he finishes with his vulgarity.
"Only I order her to come," I growl. She tilts her head up. Her eyes are full of fear, and it takes everything I have not to pick her up and run out of the room with her. "You will not come. You will only pleasure me."