His breaths come fast and heavy, and with several more wet strokes of his cock, he erupts. I close my eyes as his salty release spurts onto my tongue. He grunts, and another stream of thick fluid hits my eyelids and cheeks.

Mr. Bordeaux wipes it from my eyes, smearing it into my cheeks and hair. “You’re going to meet the chancellor wearing my cum.” He jerks the chain again, and my lids fly open.

Suddenly, I’m staring into the cool hazel eyes of my keeper.

“What did I say about eye contact?” A rhetorical question, since he’s still got my tongue in a vise. The mean line of his mouth sends my attention to his thighs.

He gives another tug, this time with an order to stand, and I stumble into him. One hand fisting my hair, the other yanking on that evil chain until my tears trail over cum-caked cheeks, he forces me to my feet. “Look at me,” he seethes.

My watery eyes meet his again.

“If you breathe a word of what you saw to anyone,” he says, pulling on the chain until I let out a high-pitched cry, “I’ll cut out your goddamn tongue.”

Nausea rises, and I’m powerless to swallow it down. All I can do is breathe through my nose until it subsides.

“Blink three times if you understand.”

I flutter my lashes, and he lets go of the chain long enough to zip up his pants. But the relief is short-lived, because he’s herding me out of my bedroom by the tongue. We leave through the main doors, and the elevator ride to the first floor passes in a distressed blur. I know where we’re going, but I don’t want to accept it, because the thought of Liam witnessing my degradation is more than I can bear.

My face is a mess of tears and cum, hair hanging into my eyes, which I welcome because I can’t meet Liam’s gaze anyway. The door to the library slams shut behind us.

“I apologize for the tardiness,” Mr. Bordeaux says. “I had to take care of an issue.” He removes the clamp, and I whimper at the flood of pain that hits my tongue all at once.

“What’s going on?” Liam demands as my keeper unties my hands and unbuckles the straps around my head. I feel the weight of his curiosity on me, like bricks pressing me into the floor, and I wish the marble under my feet would fissure and suck me through the cracks.

“She’s all yours, Chancellor.” Mr. Bordeaux exits the library, leaving me utterly humiliated.

7

The musky scent of Mr. Bordeaux wafts between us in the silence, an insurmountable wall that failed to disappear with the exit of my keeper. Rubbing the ache from my jaw, I avoid Liam’s stricken expression.

“What happened?” He reaches for me, and my first instinct is to push him away.