Aries Read online

  And he’s gone above and beyond over the years to make sure this day happens, going so far as to drive away anyone who might be an ally. Kitchen staff, servants, even Angeles, the old man who used to tend the gardens and was like a grandfather to me.

  All of them, gone.

  Save for my ladies, I’m alone in this. Faye and Elise exit the limo and flank me on either side, and the three of us stand as a united front. Their presence is a comfort, but I still can’t help but wish the ground would open and let the soil bury me.

  Panic is just a few breaths away.

  I’ve never been touched by a boy, and the thought of being at the mercy of twelve experienced men is horrifying. My only saving grace is the terms of the contract, which prohibits them from taking my virtue until the night of the wedding.

  With a displeased frown, Rowan hands me a handkerchief. “You are minutes away from meeting Chancellor Castle. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

  I yank his offering from his hand and dab at my wet eyes. “This is wrong. My parents wouldn’t have wanted this for me.”

  “Your parents aren’t here.”

  “Why are you doing this? Is it the money?”

  “My dear, innocent Novalee. The money is a bonus, but while you’re locked away here, serving the Brotherhood, you’ll be out of sight and out of mind. Someone has to rule our lands.”

  After all the times I’ve pleaded for an answer, I’m shocked to get one now, and it’s confirmation of what I suspected to be true. Uncle Rowan wants my title, and with me gone, he has a better chance of securing the permanent transfer of power. Twelve months is a long time to be absent, especially amid such political uncertainty.

  “Come,” he says, taking me by the arm as a young woman appears from the iron doors of the estate, dressed in full maid uniform. “The chancellor awaits.” He urges me forward, and the metaphorical chains that bind me tighten to an intolerable level.

  This is happening.

  My ladies can’t protect me from it.

  My uncle refuses to stop it.

  And the only two people who would have done anything to ensure my happiness—even if it meant moving the stars and planets—died six years ago.

  As the maid ushers us into my prison for the next twelve months and beyond, I have no choice but to let destiny drag me into the den.

  Chapter Two

  For a prison, the Zodiac Estate is nothing short of awe-inspiring. The grand foyer is open, light, and airy, and smack in the middle stands a white stone staircase. To my right, a waterfall cascades down a rocky wall.

  “Wow,” Elise breathes, and I can’t help but share in her awe.

  I tilt my head and squint from the bright rays pouring through the circular skylight which spans the foyer and second-floor atrium. The stained glass is sectioned into twelve slices—one representing each sign of the zodiac, from the ram to the fishes. It’s beautiful and immaculate and…

  “It’s cold,” Faye says, plucking the word from my mind.

  Gooseflesh erupts on my skin, and I’m not sure if it’s from the chilly breeze spilling into the foyer with our arrival, or the thought of what waits for me behind closed doors. Just past the wall of bubbling water, I spot an archway leading into what looks like an industrial-sized kitchen. The maid ushers us in the opposite direction, through a door on the left and down a long hallway, and we enter a library. My eyes widen at the sheer massiveness of the bookshelves—rows upon rows of spines showing a varied and eclectic collection.

  A man rises from behind a desk, the wood heavy and dark with an edge of masculinity, and Uncle Rowan steps forward. “Chancellor, I’m honored to present my niece, Novalee Van Buren.”

  The chancellor nods at me in greeting. “Welcome to Zodiac Island. You may call me Liam.”

  Dipping my head in acknowledgment, I study him from beneath my lashes. His coppery hair niggles at a memory, digging at the layers of time until I recall the younger version of the man standing before me.

  At age twelve, I didn’t quite grasp the devastating sexiness of Liam Castle, but now it hits me full-on, and I feel his hot-blooded gaze in every nerve ending.

  “Do you remember me, Novalee?”

  “I remember you.”

  “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman.” His attention heats my skin under the white skirt and sweater Uncle Rowan insisted I wear.

  “Thank you.”

  He gestures toward his maid. “Selma, escort the queen’s ladies to their quarters to freshen up. Dinner begins at six.”

  I cast an anxious glance at Faye and Elise. I want them at my side, a buffer between this imposing man and me. “I’d rather they stay.”

  “You’ll be reunited soon enough.” His tone is decisive. Final. An authoritative nod of his beautiful head sends the maid into motion, and she escorts my ladies through the library door. An unsettling disquiet descends until Liam gestures toward a group of suede leather chairs. “Shall we sit?”

  That’s when I spot a manila envelope sitting on a table. Undoubtedly, it’s the contract my uncle signed a week after my parents’ plane went down, promising my hand in marriage to the Zodiac Brotherhood.

  Rowan places a palm at the small of my back, urging me forward. After we settle into the chairs—my uncle and I facing the chancellor—Liam removes several pieces of paper from the envelope and lays one on the table between us. The scrawl of Rowan’s signature ignites a deep ache in my gut. That ink is a reminder of all I lost.

  I swallow hard. Not even six years can erase the reality of my parents’ deaths or the gaping hole their absence created in my life.

  Liam removes a pen from the pocket of his expensive charcoal suit and hands it to Rowan. “As you discussed with my father six years ago, by signing, you declare Novalee has remained a virgin.”

  I hold my breath as my uncle’s hand hovers over the line at the bottom. One flick of his wrist and a little ink, and life as I know it will change forever. That ink will be the start of the end.

  Fighting tears, I watch my uncle scrawl his name across the bottom. He sets the pen down carefully, paying small homage to the significance of this moment and the destruction ricocheting through my heart.

  “Excellent,” Liam says as he stands. “Before you take your leave, I need a show of good faith from Novalee.”

  I’m trying not to wither under the chancellor’s scrutinous stare when my uncle asks the only question in my head.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Liam’s light brown eyes refuse to waver from mine. “A sexual favor as a show of her commitment to the contract. Her virginity will remain intact, of course.”

  I jump to my feet. “I will do no such thing!” It’s a gut-instinct reaction—an absurd one if I take into account what will be expected of me in the next twelve months.

  “You’ll do it because I demand it.” Liam’s brow arches in challenge.

  My uncle stands, shooting me a look of warning. “Remember your place, dear niece.”

  “My place?” I cross my arms, incredulous, and glare at both of them. “And what exactly is my place?”

  “That would be on your knees,” Liam says, taking a step closer.

  “Why? Because you’re the chancellor?” I challenge in a scathing tone, knowing full well my mouth will get me into serious trouble with this man if I’m not careful.

  “No, my queen. My reasons are a matter of logistics.”

  “Logistics?” I say unbelievingly.

  “Yes. The position will provide more efficient use of your mouth.”

  I turn to my uncle. “You can’t allow this!” The plea echoes, and I’m positive everyone on the first floor hears my outburst.

  Rowan sets a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Obedience to the Brotherhood is your duty, Novalee. Kneel before the chancellor.”

  I stiffen my legs, refusing to submit even as my eyeballs burn from the impossibility of the circumstances. I want to plead again, but no amount of begging for a different outcome will make
the resolution on either man’s face waver.

  Because there is no freedom on this island.

  No rights as queen of a foreign nation.

  No choice.

  The unyielding weight of my uncle’s grip sends me to my knees. My chest heaves with indignation as Liam towers in front of me, hands at his back, shoulders wide as the bulge behind his zipper taunts me with what I’ll face for the next twelve months.

  Twelve men.

  Headstrong and virile.

  And all of them determined to own me.

  Rowan clears his throat. “I apologize for my niece’s lack of protocol.”

  I resist gnashing my teeth.

  “She’ll learn.” Liam pets my head as if I’m a prized Pomeranian. “It’ll take some time, but she’ll adapt to our customs.”

  “Yes, well, I’m afraid Novalee is a very strong-willed young woman.”

  “I assure you, that is an issue I intend to address.”

  I cast one last pleading look at my uncle, but the stern line of his mouth fails to give me hope.

  “I’ll wait in the parlor while the two of you become acquainted,” he says, and I’m helpless as I watch my final shred of hope disappear through the door. It slams upon his exit, and I jump. The ensuing silence is too invasive. Too consuming.

  Liam doesn’t move or speak at first. Neither do I. The seconds tick past as I study his dark gray trousers, purposefully keeping my focus below his zipper. His heightened breathing fractures the quiet, the inhales and exhales shallow and gruff, laden with a hint of what I think is desire.

  Has anyone ever sounded so…aroused in my presence before? Stood in front of me like this—with masculine power and appeal? Six years ago, Liam did, though now I realize he held himself back in deference to my age.

  “Eyes up here.” His commanding tone rumbles through my bones, drawing my gaze to his face, and there’s no denying how gorgeous he is. Strong jaw, neatly trimmed beard, and that coppery hair I remember from six years ago when he scolded the boy with the wild blond hair. This man stood up for me back then, but that won’t be the case this time.

  “You’ve come a long way since that child on her knees,” he says as if our minds are on the same wavelength. He smoothes a palm down the back of my head. “It’s okay to be unsure. I know you’re untouched and innocent. I’m honored to be the first to touch you.”

  Except he’ll do more than touch me. Once again, my attention falls to his pants and the noticeable outline of his erection.

  Erection.

  I’m not unfamiliar with the word. I know how the male anatomy works. I even know what’s expected of me. As if to confirm my suspicion, he unbuckles his belt and unfastens his pants.

  “Unbutton your top, Novalee.”

  My fingers visibly shake as I reach for the first button, and it takes three tries before it slips free of the loop. I undo the next two then look at him for instruction, hoping he’ll allow me to stop at showing cleavage.

  “Keep going.”

  Gulping past the tightness in my throat, I reveal more skin. The material parts, exposing my satin brassiere. Liam tugs on the blouse, one brow arched in silent command, and I let the top slip off my shoulders.

  “Take off the undergarment too.”

  The urge to beg is intense, a plea for my modesty on the tip of my tongue, and I hesitate a second too long.

  “I don’t issue orders twice,” he says, gripping me by the chin. “I’ll make this as easy on you as I can, but this is your only warning.”

  His tone is harsh, stabbing like a knife to my gut, and before he can give the command again—and punish me for it—I remove the last piece of material covering my breasts. A draft of air caresses my nakedness, coaxing my nipples to bud. I’ve never felt more vulnerable than I do now, on my knees and naked from the waist up.

  Liam draws in an appreciative breath. “Stunning.” He grabs my wrists and forces my hands to my chest. “Play with your nipples.”

  “Why?” I whisper.

  “Don’t question me.”

  I’m utterly humiliated as I fondle my nipples, gently rolling the sensitive peaks between thumb and forefinger.

  “Good girl,” he breathes, reaching for the stretchy material of his boxer briefs. He exposes himself, and at the first sight of his shaft, my eyes bulge.

  “It’s big.”

  “You’ll learn to take it.”

  I don’t see how. He’s thick and long, and his fist doesn’t cover half the length as he folds his fingers around it. I can’t hide a nervous gulp.

  “Will you be gentle?”

  With his free hand, he palms my face, the brush of his thumb a caress on my cheekbone. “Compared to some of my brothers, I’ll be merciful.”

  And that’s where the gentleness of his touch stops.

  Fisting my hair, he yanks my head back, and the position angles my face just right, his harsh grip ensuring I can’t escape his hold.

  “Please,” I gasp, despising myself for the slip-up. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “Your inexperience is what draws me.” He strokes his length, confident in his skill as he moves his hand from root to tip and back again. “Pinch your nipples.”

  I follow his command, adding more pressure to the flesh between my fingers. A curious warmth darts between my thighs. I once touched myself, bringing about the same tingly rush spreading through my bones now, but my sense of embarrassment was too strong, and I stopped before it went any further.

  “Harder. Make them ache.”

  Maybe if I make my nipples hurt, the warmth between my legs will go away. I press down hard, face tightening from the hot pain radiating through my breasts.

  The wet tip of his erection pushes against my lips. “Taste me,” he says, pulling my hair until I dart out my tongue.

  He’s salty with a hint of bittersweet, and I’m not sure if I like the taste or not. I lick my lips clean, and then his flesh is there again, pressing against my lips until they part and allow him entrance. My mouth closes around the plump head, and he sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth.

  “Jesus,” he mutters. “So sweet.”

  And then he starts to thrust, his raspy voice shooting out curt instructions like suck and no teeth and gag for me. That last command confuses me until he pushes toward the back of my throat, and I realize he means to go deep.

  Too deep.

  Instinct kicks in, and I push my tongue against the hot flesh in my mouth.

  “Don’t fight me,” he says with a low growl, pulling out and slapping his dick against my cheek. “My brothers won’t be as gentle and patient as me. They’ll tire of your teasing and take their pleasure from your ass.” He thrusts into my throat again, only this time when the gagging starts, I fight to accept it.

  To accept him.

  “This is for your own good, my sweet girl.”

  He sets the tempo with quick jabs, and my chest aches from gagging on his girth. Humiliation clogs my nose, making breathing difficult with the way he’s claiming my mouth. I peek up, desperation a scream on my face, and our eyes meet. His are darker than a moonless night, lids at half-mast.

  He seems…entranced. Caught up in a spell. A curious sense of power takes hold of me. I’ve never felt anything like it before.

  And I’ve never witnessed anything as beautiful as the surrender in a man like Liam.

  His hand tightens in my hair, and with a final jerk between my tonsils, he goes still. “Swallow,” he groans as his hot release spurts into my throat. I choke a little as it slides down. Afterward, he pulls out, and the space between us is oddly quiet. I’m frozen, my brain struggling to catch up with what just happened.

  Because Chancellor Liam Castle just came in my mouth, and I don’t know how I should feel about it.

  Irate?

  Empowered?

  Turned on?

  Repulsed?

  All I am is discombobulated. Eyes burning, I let go of my nipples and wipe the musky dampness of
him from my lips.

  “Did I satisfy you, Chancellor?” The bite in my tone is front and center, brave and bold.

  Instead of taking issue with my attitude, he seems amused, mouth curving into a rogue grin as he pulls me to my feet. “Do you hear me complaining?”

  “No,” I whisper, cheeks aflame as I lower my gaze to his throat.

  He lifts my chin. “Did you enjoy pleasuring me?”

  “No!” The denial is too quick. He knows it. I know it.

  That grin of his brightens. “Tell the truth, Novalee.”

  I nibble on my lower lip, hesitating. “It wasn’t horrible.”

  He laughs. “Your honesty is refreshing.”

  “Do you generally inspire dishonesty in people, Chancellor?”

  “It’s Liam.” His tone softens. “The woman I plan to marry will call me by my name. Is that understood?”

  “Yes…Liam.”

  “That’s better.” His hands are still on me, a thumb brushing the pad of my abused lips, the slide of his fingers in my hair. Now that he’s started touching me, he can’t seem to stop.

  And I can’t find the strength to dislike it.

  “To answer your question…” He lets a heavy beat pass. “People know better than to lie to me.”

  I don’t know if he means it as a warning, but I take it as one.

  Liam Castle is not someone you lie to.

  He’s not someone you disobey.

  And he’s definitely not someone you fall in love with.

  “So tell me, Novalee Van Buren. Did you enjoy the taste of my cock?”

  Cock.

  Another word I’m familiar with, though there’s an undercurrent of wrong stringing those letters together. It’s bolder and filthier than erection or penis.

  It’s raw and filthy and…sexy.

  “I…I don’t know. It’s the first time I ever tasted a man.”

  “It certainly won’t be the last.” Liam retrieves my clothing from the floor. “Selma will show you to your quarters.”

  “My quarters?” I shrug into my top and button the front.

  “Yes, you’ll have your own set of rooms on the penthouse floor. We’ll share meals together, of course.” After I’m once again decent, he takes my hand and pulls me toward the door of the library. “Did you not expect to have your own quarters?”