Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
How does he know that?
“I sure as fuck would have kept you awake. Watched you cry and scream. Beg me to stop while I made sure it was the most painful experience you’d ever had. But then again, you like that, don’t you?”
I do. I did. But Saint understands how far to take it. He’s never truly hurt me. Not like that.
His glove-covered hands reach down to his pants, and he unbuckles his belt. I pull on the ropes. “No…”
“Shh. Remember, Ashtyn. Anyone comes outside…” he trails off, and I start to hyperventilate. My breathing is coming quicker and quicker. I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack. I’m standing up straight, but it feels like something presses on my chest. “It’s just another test,” he says, ripping his belt from his jeans. Then he slaps it across my chest.
The sting feels like a million fire ants biting me at once, and it takes my breath away. Just when I manage to get one in, he hits me again. This time across my upper thighs.
I shake in the ropes as the leather hits me once more across my ribs, wrapping around to my back.
“That’s good, Ash.” He walks behind me, and I sag.
Finally able to catch my breath, I begin to sob. The belt lands across my back, and I try to arch it to get away before he hits me again, but I can’t escape it.
Humiliation washes over me that I ever liked this before. To be treated as such. Memories flood my mind of when Saint tied me up in front of Kashton and Haidyn in the woods at the party and how much I was getting off on it. This time, I want to die.
He hits me five more times in various places before I see the belt fall to the ground in front of me. I’m sobbing; tears, snot, and drool run down my face while my entire body shakes uncontrollably. My skin is on fire, and the fact that I’m now sweating makes the pain even worse. He comes to stand in front of me. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out a small size of lube.
“I think he may have gotten you pregnant.” He laughs.
“N-o.” I can’t even speak properly anymore. The single word was slurred as if I’ve been drinking all night. If he were to cut the rope, I’d fall to my face unable to stand on my own two feet. It’s like that night Tyson came to my house all over again. Although this time, I know Saint won’t be showing up to save me.
“That’s what a Lord does, Ashtyn. He picks a bitch, and he makes sure to knock her up. Breeding is a requirement.” He pours the lube onto his glove-covered fingers and places them between my open legs. I try to pull my knees together, but the rope around each ankle prevents that. He shoves them into me easily with the help of the lube. “There’s been a story going around for years that the Lords add supplements to the younger generation’s food.”
He pushes his two fingers farther up into me and moves them around. The pain takes my breath away, but I have no choice other than to take it when all I want to do is scream for help. He removes them to add three this time just as forceful.
“They require all the Lords going through initiations to live at the house of Lords, where they are offered three meals a day by a live-in chef. Now granted, the Lords are always coming and going freely. So they could eat out, but after four years of staying at the house of Lords, they’re bound to eat there at some point. But here’s the thing…” He adds another finger, and I can’t hold the whimper that leaves my trembling lips. “I’ve been told they only do it to the highest rankings of Lords. I mean, crazy, right?” He laughs, removing them, and I bite my tongue to hold in a sob. “But totally believable. They used to force the bottom-feeders to undergo vasectomies. So why not enhance the powerful ones to have twins? There’s always power in numbers. And let’s face it, people die. So twins offer more of an opportunity.”
I take a deep breath and lift my watery eyes to meet his black mask. “Why...are you telling me this?” I manage to ask, my voice rough since my throat has gone raw from crying.
“Because I want you to understand why I have to hurt you.”
All I can do is shake my head.
“Did Saint let you keep your birth control, or did he remove it?”
I stiffen at his question. How would he know I had an IUD? Is that what Saint did when he knocked me out? My lack of response makes him laugh.