Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
I’m only human.
If I had my way, I wouldn’t take on a chosen at all. I’d rather not get sentenced to fuck one woman. I’ve seen other Lords do it over the past three years, and it always comes with problems. Just one more thing I don’t want to have to deal with. That sounds selfish, but Lords are trained to put themselves first. A woman is nothing more than a toy to use.
The ritual confirms that. We strip a woman naked, tie her to a Lords altar, and fuck her in front of others to prove we are men to the society. She has to bleed for us. A Spade brother only accepts the best—a virgin.
Other Lords get to choose which hole they want to fuck. And she doesn’t have to be a virgin. If I was given the choice, I’d pick the ass. There’s just something about a woman’s ass that gets me off. Any woman can spread her legs, virgin or not. But to bend over and put her ass up in the air, while begging you to fuck it, that takes a different type of woman. Especially since most don’t want to do it. They find it dirty, degrading, and taboo.
I pull myself out of that memory. It didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now. She never belonged to me, and I never wanted her.
Making my way off the elevator, I remove the keys from my pocket and approach one of the many cells we have down here. The Lord sits with his back against the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest.
When I turn on the light, he closes his eyes. I smile, in the mood to get bloody. “Good morning,” I say, pulling my cell out of my pocket and picking a song. As “Hallelujah” by No Resolve begins to play, my body relaxes. It’s my go-to song when I’m in the mood to fuck shit up.
SEVEN
ANNABELLE
Isit at a round table with my girlfriends on a gloomy Sunday. We return to Barrington next week for the second half of our junior year. I went through initiation at the beginning of the school year, and it’s been heavy on my mind. I hate to say how much sleep I’ve lost over what I did. I thought I could handle anything they threw at me, but I see that naked woman every time I close my eyes. It’s been five months now, and it hasn’t gotten any easier.
Hannah gets my attention as she laughs. It’s for show. I love her to death, but everything about her is fake. And I’m not talking about what you can physically see. I mean everything else. The part of her that she hides from the world.
She hates her husband. He’s a Lord. She was his chosen, and they were forced to marry when he knocked her up. She swears that the baby might not even be his, considering the night of conception lines up with the fuck-fest weekend when he passed her around to his friends. But their parents didn’t care. It’s whatever you make it look like to the world, not what it really is. I'm not sure what they expected to happen. He wasn’t letting her take birth control, and he didn’t have his friends use condoms. That’s how a baby is made.
He flew her to the Bahamas, had a lavish proposal set up, and made sure someone recorded it all. She posted it on social media the following day with the typical I SAID YES post. It was followed with a hundred photos of the trip showing off the happy couple, kissing on the beach, cuddling in the infinity pool, and sharing romantic dinners.
She’s gorgeous in a supermodel runway way, and he’s hot in that “I wear loafers, drive a Rolls Royce, and work for Daddy” kind of way. They look like real-life Barbie and Ken except they hate one another.
He cheats on her every chance he gets, and she fucks his friends behind his back. A Lord can do whatever and whoever he wants, married or not. But a Lady? She has rules. If he caught her…well, I don’t even want to think about what he’d do to her. But then again, maybe he knows and doesn’t care. To each their own.
His best friend has a breeding kink, and since Hannah is currently four months pregnant, she meets up with him almost daily and lets him pretend he’s the one who knocked her up. Which might actually be true since he was one of the many that her Lord let fuck her that weekend. Who knows.
“Were you even listening to what I just said?” she asks, setting down her water.
I nod, eyes meeting hers. “Mm-hmm.” Lie.
“Then what did I say?” She arches a perfectly shaped dark brow.