“Play?” I question, a lump forming in my throat all over again. “You mean … sex?”
Roman chuckles, the sound so innocent yet filled with so much danger. “You’re intrigued by the idea of fucking us,” he states as though it’s a cold-hard fact.
I shake my head. “No, I just … What else could you mean by play?”
He leans forward, his eyes focusing on mine and holding me captive. “When was the last time you were fucked so hard that you couldn’t walk in the morning?”
I straighten against the backrest of my chair as though that could magically help me put space between us. “How is that any of your business?”
“We own you,” he reminds me. “Your body belongs to us. Every freckle, every scar, every time it’s been touched is my fucking business. Answer the question.”
“I … uhh.” My cheeks flush and I find myself glancing away, too ashamed to admit that no man has ever fucked me quite like that. I mean, I’ve had plenty of good ones, a few alright ones, and far too many guys who could barely get it in before they were finishing on the side of my leg. But a real, honest to God, deep and thorough fucking? Yeah … that’s not something I’ve ever experienced.
Roman leans back, more intrigued than ever. “You haven’t. Are you a virgin?”
My eyes nervously flick around the room, not loving the topic of conversation. First off, how is that any of his goddamn business? And second, what does it matter if I am or not? I won’t be spreading my legs for him. “I thought you weren’t into raping girls,” I spit, wanting the topic off my sex life.
His eyes harden and the anger pulsing within them has me shrinking in my seat, wishing I could slide under the table and completely disappear. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT QUESTIONING ME?”
Fuck.
“I—”
“ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION.”
“NO,” I yell back at him. “I’M NOT A FUCKING VIRGIN. I just—”
Levi narrows his gaze. “Haven’t been fucked properly.” I glance away, unsure why I feel so ashamed of my shitty, limited experience, but he takes pity on me and changes the topic. “When is your period due?”
My eyes bug out of my head. “Excuse me?”
“Your period,” he repeats, in frustration. “When is it due? Or would you prefer to sit on your bed and soil your sheets with blood? It doesn’t bother me either way. Though, if I’m honest, the sight of blood smeared across a pretty girl’s bed gets me fucking hard.”
I raise my brow, more than done with this inquisition into my life as I try to ignore his murderous comments and focus on the topic at hand. “I have irregular periods. It comes when it wants, but I’m surprised you don’t know that. It would be mentioned in my medical files.”
“We do know that,” Marcus throws right back. “You’ve been seeing the same doctor since you were nine. You were prescribed birth control at sixteen to help regulate your period, but it just turned you into a raging bitch, so you stopped using it. Risky fucking game, don’t you think?”
I glare down the table at him, more than ready to turn the tables and press a knife to his throat, but a fucked-up psycho like him would probably just get hard and come in his pants. Who does he think he is preaching to me about risky games? I’m not the one running around slaughtering half the town. I take a deep breath and let him see the rage in my eyes. “If you already know,” I growl, “then why the hell are you asking?”
No one bothers with a response and that only infuriates me more, but I guess they don’t need to. They were testing me and I failed. Though I have no idea what the fallout is going to be or why they chose the topic of my period to test me on.
Roman nods toward my plate. “Are you finished?”
“I was finished before I started.”
His lips twitch just a fraction and he nods to Levi. “Get her out of here. I think we’ve endured enough.”
I stand, clenching my jaw, not ready to be thrown back into that shitty little torture chamber. “No, please. Don’t send me back down there. Please. I don’t like it.”
Roman just stands and strides out of the room as though he hadn’t even heard me begging, and before I can call him out on his douchebag behaviors, his brother is at my back, his hand pressing against my skin and pushing me forward. “I’d suggest that you move that tight little ass a bit faster,” he tells me. “I’d prefer to not have to drag you down the stairs.”
A hollowness sits in my chest, and while I’m thrilled to be getting away from the three brothers, I’d also give anything to not have to go back to the dark, haunted dungeon.
As we move back through the house, I don’t miss how he leads me through different rooms and different hallways, keeping me disoriented and confused about the layout of the big-ass castle. Only when we reach the big ballroom, my senses come back to me and I know exactly where we are.
I hit the top step and the pressure from Levi’s hand against my back has me moving faster down the steep concrete staircase. As I go to take the next step, I slip and tumble, rolling forward and smacking the back of my ribs against the sharp edge of the step.
I cry out, the pain almost too much as I tumble down the steps and come to a devastating stop at the bottom, but before tears can fill my eyes from the pain, Levi is there, gripping my upper arm and yanking me to my feet, his hold like a steel vice, bruising and determined.
I pause, trying to catch my balance as I test my weight on my feet, mentally mapping out the damage from my fall, but as I look around myself, a dark shadow at the top of the stairs catches my attention.
Marcus is slowly following us through the big castle and a shiver sails down my spine. We’ve been walking for at least three whole minutes and I haven’t noticed him once. What happened to women’s intuition? If a man is following me on the street, I can feel it. I know to be cautious, but with the DeAngelis brothers, there is no warning. They’ll stalk you until you’re bleeding out in their hands.
“Move,” Levi snaps, not thrilled about my fall or the few extra moments I’ve taken to check on myself. His hand comes back to my skin and he pushes me harder, forcing one foot in front of the other to keep up with his long strides, relentless in his mission to get me back inside my cell. I can’t help but look back over my shoulder and watch how Marcus continues, even after being caught. He doesn’t fucking care.
With each passing step that plunges us deeper and deeper into the darkness of the tunnel, the dread settles over me and I find my strides getting smaller as Levi’s hand presses harder. “Please, no,” I whisper into the darkness as the cell door approaches. “Please, I swear. I’ll behave. Not there. I’ll play whatever fucked-up game you want me to play. I don’t—”
My whines are cut off when Levi tugs hard on my arm again, pulling me into him until I’m stumbling. He catches me with his strong arm around my waist and throws me over his shoulder like a ragdoll. He picks up his pace, moving at a speed that I would never be able to keep up with, and before he allows me a chance to plead my case, he’s already at my door, opening it wide and tossing me in.
My body crashes against the bed at a weird angle, and before I can catch myself, I fall straight down to the cold stone beneath, hitting the same hip that I’d landed on when they threw me in here the first time.