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)
My clit is swollen, pussy wet just from watching them in her bedroom. Some would say eighteen is too young to be interested in a twenty-one-year-old, but at least I’m legally of age. Plus, my father is six years older than my mother. Her father gave her away when she was seventeen.
There are no age limits when it involves the Lords. I’ve heard of girls marrying as young as fifteen. We have our own laws. Our own traditions. That any outsider would disagree and look down on.
Tyson holds me pinned over the side of the bed and wetness runs down my legs while he fucks me once again. I can’t fight him, and the worst part is, I don’t want to. It hurts so bad, but I’m also already craving that sensation that takes my breath away. I’m still shaking from the other two he gave me.
“Ple-ease?” I beg through a sob. My shoulders are screaming while he holds my arms to my back, pressing me into the bed. I’m having trouble breathing from the pressure.
“Please what?” he commands, thrusting into me.
“I need—”
He pulls out and slams forward, making me scream, and his body tenses against mine before his cock pulses inside me. He comes, not letting me.
Pulling out, he lets go of my arms, and they fall to my side as a whimper escapes my lips. My legs can’t hold me up and I fall to the floor, twisting so my back leans against the side of the bed, pulling my shaking legs to my chest. I look up at him through watery lashes as he stares down at me.
Kneeling, he pushes my wet hair from my tear-streaked face. “You will have to earn to come from now on, Lake.” Then he stands, giving me his back and exiting the bedroom.
Valet had his blacked-out Bentley Continental GT V8 Coupe waiting for us when we exited the hotel not even thirty minutes after he left me shaking on the bedroom floor. We ride through the city in silence once again. We haven’t spoken to each other since he told me I’d beg him to get off.
Being this close to him in such a confined space has my breathing ragged. I’m trying to calm my racing heart, hoping he doesn’t hear how worked up I am while “Just Pretend” by Bad Omens softly filters from the speakers. I wish he’d turn it up to drown out any chance of hearing me.
I can feel his cum leaking out of my sore pussy and soaking my underwear. He’s proving a point. Dominance. Not like I needed a reminder. I’m very well aware of how powerful Tyson Riley Crawford is. He might not have taken over his father’s multibillion-dollar company like he was supposed to, choosing a nightclub instead, but he is still a Lord. And they’re all the same—ruthless.
The rain continues to fall, but it’s not as hard as before. He takes an exit, and I run my hands over the shorts my mother had packed in my bag. Tyson didn’t even bring it. I picked out what I wanted to wear at the hotel, and he made me leave the rest behind. I’m guessing he’ll make me sleep naked at his house. Hell, will he even let me wear clothes during the day while at his home? Doubtful. Visions of chains, cuffs, and leashes come to mind. I’ll be his personal pet. A slave to serve him. I’ll be lucky to sleep on a bed. He’s probably had a cage made just for me. The thought makes my chest tighten. Lords are all about humiliation. It makes them feel powerful to belittle others.
I once overheard my mother’s friend telling her that her husband threw a party for his three best friends and made her wear a gag in her mouth while she served them food. That was all she was allowed to wear. After they were done with dinner, she was ordered to lie on the table where they tied her down and each took their turn with her for dessert. I was disgusted at how turned on I got at the thought. All she could do was tell my mother how amazing it was to serve them. And how her husband’s one friend had the biggest dick she had ever seen. It was the best night of her life.
Slowing the car down, Tyson pulls into a parking lot, and I read the white sign outside of a redbrick building—Walls Dentistry. “What are we doing here?” I ask.
He comes to a stop in a front row parking spot and shuts off the car. Without answering, he gets out, and I let out a huff, doing the same. Taking my hand, he drags me into the front glass double doors. It looks closed. There isn’t a single person sitting at the front desk, and it’s a weekend. The row of chairs up against the far wall are also empty. A black coffee table is in the middle with a stack of magazines.