Page 77 of Haunted

He leads me across the opulent chamber, navigating around other displays of ravenous hedonism. My bare feet sink into plush Persian rugs as we pass Keira, bent over an ornate chaise. At the same time, two hunters take turns with her, and Lia is suspended in silk ropes as a masked man teases her with what looks like a riding crop.

When we reach Knox, I can see Bianca’s situation more clearly. Her spirit, which I’d admired during our brief time together in the preparation room, has been completely stripped away. Her hazel eyes are wide, whether from the sheer force of his penetration or genuine unwillingness, I can’t determine. But her body remains still, accepting his brutal pace.

“What the fuck do you want?” Xavier demands, histone sharp with authority and an inherent warning of violence.

Knox’s laugh is dark as he continues his assault on Bianca’s mouth. “Just thought you should see this little artist’s hidden talents. Turns out she’s got quite the throat on her.”

Xavier’s hand slides to the small of my back, pressing me closer to his side. I can feel the tension radiating from him, every muscle coiled. Whatever this interruption is about, he doesn’t appreciate being summoned like a common soldier.

“And?” Xavier’s single word drips with menace.

“Come on, X,” the blue-masked man continues, his voice carrying a familiar arrogance that makes my blood run cold. “I want to see you fuck your journalist. Give your brother a show.”

Xavier turns rigid beside me, his hand gripping my waist with bruising force. I sense the fury radiating from him in waves.

He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear. “Do you want to give everyone a good show, angel?” His voice is velvet. “Show them who you belong to?”

God help me, I do.

The words ring through my head with devastating clarity. The depravity surrounding us—Cora’s cries, Bianca’s muffled gasps, the wet sounds of bodies joining in every conceivable position—it all feeds the fire burning inside me.

“I...” I start, then stop, my voice catching as Xavier’sfingers find the edge of the silk wrapped around my thigh.

“Say it,” he commands, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me what you want.”

My gaze flickers to his brother, still using Bianca’s throat, then to the other pairs and groups scattered throughout the chamber. Everyone fucking, claiming, dominating. The air is thick with sex and power—the kind of depravity I thought I was investigating but never imagined I’d crave.

“Yes,” I whisper, the admission torn from somewhere deep inside me. “I want... I want you to show them.”

Xavier’s answering growl is animalistic, and I know I’ve crossed a line.

He spins me to face the room, my back pressed against his front. His hands move under his shirt and he pulls it over my head.

“Everyone stops,” he commands, his voice cutting through the symphony of moans and wet sounds. “Now.”

The authority in his tone is absolute. One by one, the hunters pause their activities, masked faces turning toward us. Even his brother releases Bianca’s throat, leaving her gasping and trembling on her knees.

“My angel wants to give you all a show,” Xavier announces, his fingers working the silk loose from my shoulders. “She wants you to see exactly who she belongs to.”

The crimson fabric pools at my feet, leaving me completely naked in front of fourteen other masked menand their prey. My skin burns under their collective gaze, but instead of shame, heat floods my veins. The exposure, the vulnerability, how Xavier’s hands claim every inch of me for their viewing pleasure—it’s intoxicating.

Three hunters who haven’t claimed anyone tonight move closer, forming a loose circle around us. I sense their hunger and frustration at missing out, and it only makes me wetter.

“Look at her,” Xavier murmurs, cupping my breasts from behind, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they peak. “Look how she responds to being displayed. My perfect exhibitionist.”

One of the circling hunters—tall, broad-shouldered, with intricate tattoos visible beneath his open shirt—takes another step closer.

“Careful,” Xavier warns. “She’s mine to touch.”

His hands roam every inch of me possessively, one sliding down my stomach. At the same time, the other continues its assault on my breasts. When his fingers find my slick folds, I can’t contain the moan that escapes.

“See how wet she gets from having an audience?” Xavier’s finger circles my clit. “She’s dripping down her thighs knowing that you’re all watching.”

The humiliation should kill my arousal. Instead, it feeds it, making me arch against Xavier’s touch as the three hunters continue their circling. It appears that despite Xavier’s demand to stop, a few of the hunters and prey are at it again.

Near the wall, I catch sight of a masked man gettinghis cock sucked by Elliot. Julian watches, apparently content to share his conquest.

Xavier’s finger slides inside me, and I gasp on a soft, desperate whimper, the sound echoing through the suddenly quiet chamber.

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