Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
“I’m going to take it easy on you,” he speaks softly, “because it’s your first time.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, hating that he’s going to have so much power over me. That I’m going to have to thank him for everything. I will forever rely on him for food, shelter, fucking survival. Men like Tyson don’t allow women to have their own careers or lives for that matter. They are owned. A Lady doesn’t need to know who she is. She belongs to her Lord, and serving him is all that matters in their lives.
His hand grips my chin and lifts my face so I have to meet his cold stare. “It’s still going to hurt, Lake.”
My stomach ties in knots, but my pussy pulses. I don’t understand it. Why is my body reacting to him when my mind knows it’s not right.
“And afterward, I won’t give you the courtesy of going easy,” he adds. “Do you understand?”
“Y-yes.” My voice wavers, and my feet shift in my heels.
He pulls away and gives me his back, ordering, “Go to the bedroom and lie on the bed.”
ELEVEN
TYSON
I can hear her heavy breathing fill the room while doing as she’s told. I wasn’t lying when I told her I’d go easy this one time. Of course, my easy isn’t soft, but it’s better than what I have planned for her in the future. She will learn to love being whipped, chained, and gagged when I fuck her. The daughter of Frank Minson will crawl on her hands and knees while begging me to use her however I want.
Her parents hate me. They blame me for Whitney’s death. I don’t give a fuck what they think. They were the ones who failed both of their daughters. One is dead, and the other will be wishing that soon.
I stay in the living room, watching the heavy rain hit the floor-to-ceiling windows while undoing my button-up. Shrugging the wet material off my shoulders, I pour myself another drink and throw it back, making sure not to let it go to waste. It’s Dalmore—a fifty-year-old whiskey, courtesy of her father. He had given Luke this room tonight. A sick way for him to make sure she bled when they consummated their marriage. I’ll make sure to leave him a visual. Just in case the scene I put on at the Cathedral wasn’t enough.
Her soft cries filter down from the hall, interrupting my thoughts. I won’t let it get to me. She’s a means to an end. My chance at revenge. It’s nothing personal. I saw an opportunity and took it. If Lake knew what I was really doing, she’d thank me.
Finishing off the drink, I set it on the table. Toeing off my shoes, I undo my dress slacks and push them and my boxers down my legs before removing my socks.
I walk down the hallway and enter the only bedroom in this three-thousand-square-foot suite. I turn on the light. It’s the middle of the day, but the storm outside makes the room darker than it would normally be at this time. The curtains are open on the far wall, which is nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows, showing off the city.
Laikyn sits up in the bed, her back to the headboard. The rose petals that once covered the white duvet are now littered across the floor. Tears silently run down her face. Making my way over to the bed, I stand beside it, and her eyes meet mine through her watery lashes.
I reach out, my knuckles brushing her tears. “Lie down, little darling. Flat on your back. Let me see what’s mine.”
She sniffs, but slowly pushes off the headboard to lie down, her eyes on the ceiling. Mine run over her body. All she wears is white lace underwear that sit high on her narrow hips and a matching garter up on her thigh.
Her skin is flawless, no tattoos, no piercings, no scars. She was sheltered. After her sister died, her family put her on lockdown. Her parents aren’t stupid. The fact that their father is a Lord should be reason enough to protect your children. Both her mother and father knew the possibility of either one of them being hurt. They just didn’t give a fuck.
I reach out and place my hands on her legs, and they shake while she takes in a deep breath. I slide my hands up her smooth thighs and grip her underwear before pulling them down her closed legs along with the garter and tossing them onto the floor. “Spread your legs,” I order.
Her shaking hands come up to her face and covers herself from me. I should tie her down, restrain her to the bed so she can’t hide. But even I understand that may be too much right now. I’ve got the rest of my life to degrade her, use her. Honestly, I’m not even in the mood to fuck her, but we’re here to prove a point.