Phantom's Thrall: A Dark RH MMM+F Phantom of the Opera Retelling (Racy Retellings You Never Knew You Wanted Book 1) by Jessamine Rue

Phantom's Thrall: A Dark RH MMM+F Phantom of the Opera Retelling (Racy Retellings You Never Knew You Wanted Book 1) by Jessamine Rue

Author:Jessamine Rue [Rue, Jessamine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-24T16:00:00+00:00


15

The world is going dark. My whole head feels as if it’s expanding, bursting—

The noose relaxes, and I haul in a life-saving breath. But I’m limp, pliable, helpless in the wake of the near blackout.

Erik snatches another coil of rope and begins to arrange my limbs, tying them into place quickly, deftly.

“I can’t let you destroy all of this,” he’s saying. “Lives are at risk, Christine—mine, Joseph’s, Matthieu’s.”

My arms are pinioned against my back, my breasts are cinched into bulging swells. My legs are bent, with ropes stretching from my knees to my shoulders, linked in such a way that my thighs must remain spread as I kneel.

“I won’t tell anyone.” I force the words out through trembling lips.

“But I can’t trust you to keep your word. This is why I should have waited and not rushed into fucking you. I know so little of you, Christine. Are you the silly girl who would betray us, or the heroine we need, the anchor to which we may bind our wandering ships? Are you our doom or our safety?” He runs a loop of rope beneath my chin and fastens it so my head stays tilted slightly back. His fingers graze the column of my throat.

“You can trust me,” I gasp. “I swear it.”

I’m kneeling on the rugs, thighs apart, arms bound tight, my neck arched a little. Erik finishes his work and stands back to inspect it.

“Not my best,” he says. “But it is pleasing.”

Then he picks up the rug I soiled and carries it out.

He doesn’t return for a long time, not until he has played at least three terrifying songs on the organ and a strident solo on a violin.

While I’m alone, trussed up in the elaborate net of rope, I have time to think.

The revelation was startling, yes. There is something monstrous about Erik’s glossy scales, his yellow eyes, the left canine that’s sharper and longer than the other. But as I ponder the situation, I realize that his monstrous aspect isn’t what bothers me.

I’m more revolted by the secrets, the fact that he used me without telling me everything. Earlier, when I vomited, I was sickened, not by his face, but by the fact that I might be nothing more to him than a tool for power.

He should have told me what he was before he fucked me. God help me, I think I would care about him and crave him in any form—angelic, human, or dragon. Whatever metamorphosis he goes through, however many more things I discover about him, I will still want him.

And now that I’ve settled that in my mind, all I need is more information. When I encounter a new aspect of the world, I like to plunge in and learn everything about it—as I’m doing with music, performance, and sex. It’s the same with dragons and magic and whatever else Erik is hiding.

Now that the door is open to me, I must know it all.

Erik strides back into the bedroom and lights all the candles with a simple gesture.



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