More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
So what am I afraid of if death isn’t it? I’m afraid of failing those that I love. Of letting my brothers down and leaving them to fend for themselves. I hate being unable to protect the ones who rely on me.
My cock is so fucking hard. I’ve gone three years without sex, and I’m going insane. My hands itch to tangle in her perfect hair, bend her over, and rip the fabric as I fuck her in front of everyone. That’s what we’re taught to do—take what we want in front of others. It’s to prove ourselves. To show we have power. But do we? Not really.
She’s what a man dreams of—dress her up and show her off to your friends, make them jealous of what you have. And then take her home, tie her down, and make her your dirty little whore. Show her what it’s like to be owned.
He spanked my ass with his belt like an unruly child while I was on all fours and gagged. Then he fucked my pussy while I wrote I’m Haidyn’s dirty little whore in a notebook.
“If you let another man touch you, I’ll string him up and cut off his eyelids so he can’t miss you crawling naked on your hands and knees to me. I’ll fuck every hole you have, doll face, and let him see you whine and beg to be used like the whore I know you to be. Then after I’m done with you, I’ll cut his dick off as well and force it down his throat because he will no longer have any use for it.”
Excuse me sir.
“That’s it, Charlotte. Fuck, you’re so goddamn pretty when you’re coming.” I try to pull my legs closed as another wave washes over me, taking my breath away, and he smiles. “That’s two.” Leaning down, he kisses my sweat-covered forehead and orders, “Don’t stop counting, doll face.” Then he pulls away and is out of sight.
“Tell me that you’re mine, doll face,” he demands.
