4

Bastards! What is this?! They trapped me into becoming a prostitute?!

Restlessness raged in Harper's heart; she felt disgusted. Being a mistress was nothing new in her world. She had received offers from lecherous men repeatedly, and not a single one had ever been accepted by Harper.

Even so, the only thing that made her hesitate was the truly fantastic sum.

"No other man is allowed to touch you. You will be our toy, Harper. Every inch of your body and every sigh that escapes your lips... everything belongs to us."

Harper swallowed hard, struggling. Tristan, without permission, slowly crushed his lips against Harper's.

"Perfect. I love natural lips without fillers," Tristan remarked.

"I thought no one was to touch her until the contract was signed," Raymond stated, then forcefully pulled Tristan away from Harper.

"Hey, dude!" Tristan growled. "There's no rule like that! You act like this is your first time doing this!"

The document was pushed forward again by Raymond. "Sign it. If you aren't willing, then I guarantee your life won't be long on this ship; Armand will definitely fire you in the near future."

They are truly annoying! They said they were the ones who wanted to put Armand on trial, but now I’m the one being threatened. Assholes! Harper thought.

Without another word, Harper pressed the pen to the paper and scribbled her signature with a slightly rough stroke.

"Good. Now, since you are under contract, let’s begin the initiation."

Raymond held out his hand toward Harper, helping her to stand.

"I hope Chef Armand is put on trial soon," Harper said. The only big wish she had at this moment escaped her lips.

"Of course, don't you worry," Raymond said.

Tristan smiled widely, pulling Harper toward the center of the room, which was dimmer. There, a chaise lounge made of the finest black leather sat waiting.

"Sit," Tristan commanded softly.

Harper hesitated for a moment and looked back, but Kael’s gaze from behind—as if he were ready to drag her if she refused—made her step forward obediently. She sat on the cold leather of the chair.

Tristan stood before Harper. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out something from a velvet cloth: a roll of blood-red silk ribbon.

"This ribbon is very soft, just like your skin," Tristan murmured. He reached for Harper's wrists. "Don't move."

Tristan began to wrap the silk ribbon around Harper's wrists. As Tristan tightened the knot, Harper felt a strange sensation. This limitation of movement made her feel vulnerable, but strangely, there was a spark of forbidden passion in it.

Tristan didn't stop. He leaned down, his eyes staring intently at Harper's body. The passion within him was already triggered; the sensation of the dirty clothes stained with batter seemed to add a flavor of its own.

His free hand began to roam over Harper’s body, tracing her wide hips, her dense thighs, and her chest, which rose and fell irregularly.

"You know, all my life, I've always seen women desperately trying to be thin. I have to admit you are my first curvy... you are a work of art."

Tristan caressed the curve of Harper’s hip with his thumb, pressing slightly until it left a faint red mark on her soft skin.

"Look at these hips. So full. And this chest..." Tristan rubbed the top of Harper’s bosom, which was tight against her chef uniform. "How full. I want to bury my face here."

Harper closed her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. All this time, her body had always been a source of shame. But in this room, her body was worshipped as if it were something sacred.

"Open your eyes, Harper," Raymond’s voice echoed.

Harper opened her eyes. She saw Kael approaching while sipping whiskey, his savage eyes fixed on Harper’s chest. Then, she saw Raymond, who sat with his legs crossed, as if waiting for his turn.

Tristan leaned in closer, his face only centimeters away from Harper’s. She could smell the faint scent of bourbon on the man’s lips.

"You look so beautiful when you feel afraid and aroused at the same time, darling. It’s a very... delicious combination."

"Kael," Raymond called.

Kael set his whiskey glass on the small table. He walked toward the chaise lounge.

Tristan stepped back slightly to make room for Kael, but his eyes remained fixed on Harper with a satisfied smirk.

Kael stood between Harper’s legs, which were open due to her position on the chair. He raised his hand, touched Harper’s chef jacket, and with one rough tug, ripped the buttons open, exposing Harper’s skin and the curves hidden by her undergarments.

Harper let out a stifled gasp.

"Oh my baby! I don’t even have to use my imagination to picture how hot this skin would be if touched directly," Tristan said.

Harper tried to turn her face away, but Kael’s hand gripped her chin.

Kael looked toward Raymond, who was now also standing and walking closer.

"Are you ready, Harper?" Raymond whispered.

Harper could only let out a long sigh; she had been resigned for a while.

Raymond leaned down, bringing his face close to Harper’s neck, then whispered in a cold, commanding tone, "Now, let’s taste your body, chef."

Raymond’s cold hand traced the neckline of the torn uniform, stroking Harper’s skin, which was flushed from the heat of the room and the desire beginning to slip in without permission.

Kael didn’t let Raymond dominate alone. The man’s large, rough hand crept down, squeezing Harper’s hip with enough pressure that his fingers sank deep into the soft, fleshy flesh. Harper jolted, her voice stuck in her throat as she felt that possessive, irresistible grip.

"Fuck you, Kael, you said earlier you didn't want to bring her here, right? Now what do I hear?!" Tristan said.

Tristan leaned in, gripped Harper’s face, and licked her mouth slowly before crushing his lips against hers again.

Harper closed her eyes tightly. She hated how her body betrayed her. Something was coming; she craved these touches even though her brain screamed to fight back.

Tristan released her lips. "Who wants to try her lips?"

Raymond shifted. Again, his thoughts were locked when he looked at her face.

"Argh!" Harper screamed. Raymond turned, and it appeared Tristan had begun playing with her private area, while Kael was sucking on Harper's toes.

Raymond seemed triggered, he began to lick Harper’s neck, tasting the salt of the sweat dampening her skin.