He raises her dress until her ass is visible. He slaps it hard, hard enough that water stings her eyes. Her mascara starts to run down her cheeks.
Langston fists her hair as he whispers something else into her ear.
She sucks back the tears.
He’s playing with her, like this is a random Tuesday. This is ordinary for him.
He slaps her ass again, and this time she calls out his name loudly. So loudly that the few people that were fucking and not paying attention stop and turn to watch them too.
This woman could be a submissive, someone who craves pain, and it wouldn’t matter. She would still lose. At this point, all Langston has to do is tell her to say her safe word, and she will. She’s completely under his control.
Langston notices the attention he’s getting. It’s a power move so that whoever he’s partnered with next knows to desire and fear him in the same breath. And yet, I think the only reason he’s putting on a show is because of me. He wants me to know that he won’t play around. That married or not, he’s in this game, same as me—to win.
I drag my eyes away, forcing myself to look out at the ocean instead of him. I hear another slap, and I can feel his hand on my own skin. My fingers trace over my collarbone, trying to distract myself, but it’s a useless endeavor. Whenever we’re in the same room, all I feel is him.
Now that he’s purposefully trying to pull my attention, my entire body is screaming to touch him, to kiss him, to want him.
“One-minute warning,” Mr. Reyes says.
That’s when I hear the woman Langston is partnered with call out her safe word.
The room gasps as she says it, not because she’s being tortured or pushed, but simply because Langston told her to.
“That’s the end of round one. Congrats on making it through, but the night isn’t finished yet. We will give you ten minutes to regroup before the next round begins.”
I’m standing outside on a yacht in the middle of the ocean, and yet, I can’t breathe. I can’t get enough oxygen. Not with Langston so near and smelling like sex. I want to jump into the ocean and swim until I can’t any more, but that wouldn’t solve any of my problems.
Instead, I grab a glass of scotch and head to my room to get myself off. Ten minutes isn’t a long time, but I need a release if I’m going to survive the next round. I just pray I’m never partnered with Langston, because that’s the only way I might lose. And I can’t lose.
12
Langston
“That’s the end of round one,” Mr. Reyes says.
Thank fuck.
I’m so wound up, every nerve in my body is firing, overloading my brain. Lust, want, fear, desire, anger, pain—they all mix together.
But the one single thing that sticks out is that by the end of this game, I know my soul will be lost to the fires of hell. Not because I’m going to fuck complete strangers, or take advantage of them until they are screaming to stop. We are all adults here. No one is forcing anyone. People attend parties like this because of the excitement, the danger.
They just didn’t expect a sick fucker like me to show up. One who doesn’t give a damn about anyone except the blonde in a dark wig who just ran out of the room, taking my soul with her. Somehow, she stole it, and I haven’t been able to get it back.
At least it’s not my heart.
I have ten minutes until the next twisted round.
Enzo is out.
Maxwell is out.
By pure luck of the draw, Kai, Siren, Beckett, and Zeke remain.
Zeke flashes me a look, gesturing to come strategize with him. He’s going to warn me that there is no way any of them are going to last another round. They won’t stand by watching their spouses fuck a sick bastard just to try to protect me, or stop Liesel from winning.
I don’t want to spend my ten minutes talking to them. I already know they can’t help.
Instead, I chase after the woman who is always running from me. The woman who has my soul locked in a cage somewhere deep in her body and set it on fire. Together we burn. Neither of us will survive like this, but I have to survive.
I have to free my soul and every other part of me she’s tried to claim.
I run downstairs and look left then right when I get to the hallway of bedrooms.
Which way did she go?
Right.
I walk down the hallway, listening carefully like I’m going to be able to hear her heart beating through the thick doors.
I might if it’s beating anywhere as loudly as mine.
That was intense. Not the woman I had my way with—she was nothing. But Liesel’s eyes on me—being able to feel her from across the room, I’ve never felt anything like it.
And I’m not sure I can win if we don’t break the connection now.
I try knocking on several doors, but I get no answer. Either she’s not in these rooms, or she’s not opening the door to me.
I get to the end of the hallway, and I know before I knock that this is her room.
Gently, I let my knuckles tap against the door and hopefully rattle her.
There is a hiss of breath coming from the other side, as if she just got burned. I know the feeling, baby.
A minute later, Liesel opens the door.
She tugs on her dress, trying to straighten it out. Her cheeks are pink beneath the glittery mask, her eyes wild.
I glance past her, almost expecting a man to be in the room. There is no one else.
I take a deep breath and then
