I hold his hard stare and let him see the humiliation deep in my eyes, the pain he caused me from his bullshit actions. “No real man would treat their woman like that,” I spit, hitting him right where it hurts, and while there has been no conversation about him viewing me as his, we can all see it. “So until you learn how to play nicely and grow a set of real balls, then you’ll be releasing my throat, getting the fuck out of my room, and figuring out how the hell you’re going to make it up to me.” I squeeze tighter on his dick, knowing he feels the pain. “Now. Roman.”
He holds my stare for a moment longer, the two of us locked in a battle of domination and after what feels like a lifetime, he finally relents, releasing his tight grip on my throat and backing up a step. He continues staring as I release my hold on his junk and that regret that shone in his eyes earlier is now like a beacon completely taking over.
He doesn’t say a word, just stares like he wishes he knew what to say, but what could he possibly say that would make any of it okay? I understand wanting to lash out because you feel backed into a corner, or because someone is wanting something from you that you’re not ready to give. But using my body to prove a point, to help release your anger, and to make me feel ashamed and embarrassed ain’t it. The fucker can go and fall down a chasm for all I care.
No, that’s a lie. I do care and I’d be even more pissed if he died and took the easy way out rather than finding the courage to actually apologize for his bullshit.
Without another word, he finally turns and stalks out of my bedroom much like he did last night. Only this time, he doesn't hold his head quite so high.
The moment he disappears around the corner, I take a deep breath and try to focus on the matter at hand. My gaze shifts up to Levi who watches me like a fucking queen taking her throne. “The skimpy lingerie and collar?” I ask, pointing toward the mere scraps of material laying across my bed. “Is it really that necessary?”
Levi presses his lips into a tight line and nods. “Yeah,” he mutters, not that happy about it either. “We need to go to this party. Someone is going to be there who we need to see, and apart from tonight, no one has seen this guy in three years. Tonight is our only shot. It’s going to be a fucking shitshow though. It won’t be safe. The kind of men there … they’re just like us. So I get it if you’d prefer to stay here.”
“And risk being alone for your father to come get me? No thank you. I’ll take my luck with the rest of the psychopaths, but you haven’t explained why I need to wear that.”
Levi glances away and he almost looks embarrassed. “The collar and lingerie … they represent ownership, that you’re our property, meaning no one else is permitted to touch you without our permission. If you were to walk in there without a collar or leash, you’d be free for the taking, and don’t be naive about it—you will be taken. If you’re coming with us tonight, then you will be wearing that collar. It’s non-negotiable. Is that clear enough for you?”
Fuck.
My gaze shifts back to the collar and a heavy dread sinks into my stomach, especially considering how easily controlled I was the last time I wore one of these. During that ridiculous party, all it took was Marcus stepping in behind me and chaining me to the bar and I was trapped until they decided to release me. This collar though, it’s something else. It’s basically a metal bar that’s been bent to fit a woman’s neck with a place to screw in a thick bolt at the front. There’s nothing sexual about it. It’s simply a tool to keep your little slave woman in line.
I swallow hard and nod. “Fine, but if even one person puts their hands on me without my permission, I won’t be the docile slave girl they’re expecting. They will die at my hands. There won’t be any second chances like with Draven.”
Levi nods, already knowing this but his cringe has my nerves sitting on edge. “Spit it out,” I tell him, striding toward the bed and dropping my stupid silk gown that makes me feel anything but sexy now.
Grabbing the ridiculous skimpy lingerie, I start pulling it on as I glance up at Levi, waiting for his response. He lets out a breath, and like ripping off a Band-Aid, he lets the words fly free knowing exactly what I’ll think of them. “During this party, it is expected that when speaking to myself or my brothers, you will refer to us as ‘master.’ If not, it will raise suspicion among the other … guests.”