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“Tyson Riley Crawford.” He states my name, stepping forward.
“Whitney Minson.”
her brown hair up in a messy bun, and bright blue eyes.
Sometimes the villain is the only one who wins because no one else is ruthless enough to fight him.
LAIKYN
Give me a beer, a cheap hoodie, and a hat to hide my three-day old mop of bleach-blond hair, and I’m happy.
Luke Cabot is the highest-ranking Lord you can come by, which just makes this even worse. Lords are like anything else in this world. You have some at the bottom, and others at the top. There are different tiers. But honestly, it doesn’t matter; they’re all sick fucking bastards who will kill anyone to get to where they are. Even the bottom feeders will destroy anything to get a chance at serving.
It’s been three years since I’ve seen her, and she looks nothing like she used to. She once had dark hair, now it’s bleach-blond. She has it pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, showcasing her Barbie-doll face, pouty lips, and bright blue eyes. Her wedding gown is strapless and dips down between her breasts into what gives the illusion of a heart. My eyes drop to look, and I can tell she’s had her tits done.
Laikyn Grace Minson is nothing more than a doll to be played with. A toy to be used and put on display for the world to see.
It’s black velvet with various sized diamonds. From the outside, it looks like any other choker. It’s the inner leather lining that makes it so unique.
“Welcome to hell, little darling. You’ll only be able to crawl as far as my chains will allow you.”
My eyes drop to the blood trail that makes its way from her neck to her chest. She will bleed for me in more ways than one tonight.
That it would be my wedding day when a man would take my virginity. I just never thought it’d be my sister’s ex.
“I want you to feel me holding you down. I want you to hear yourself gasping for breath when I force you to come. And I want your eyes on mine while I make you cry. I’ll never drug you, Lake, because I don’t need you compliant. You’re now my wife, and I can take whatever I want from you.”
The daughter of Frank Minson will crawl on her hands and knees while begging me to use her however I want.
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.
“Take my cock, Lake. Let me use you.”
A groan escapes my lips at the feel of her cunt tightly wrapped around my cock. “You feel so good, Lake. So fucking tight,” I tell her, listening to her mumbled cries. “You’re doing so good for me.” She tries to take in a breath, but my hand covers most of her tear-streaked face. “Taking my cock like the good whore I knew you’d be.”
My face is covered in tears, drool, and my blood. I can’t stop sobbing. I feel like twenty-one years were just ripped away from me, but my body is enjoying it.
He spreads my legs wide with his, and my eyes drop to his dick. It stands straight up, long and hard. A barbell piercing through the bottom of the shaft. It’s covered in blood and so is his lower abdomen.
“You’re doing so good, Lake. So fucking good. Look how well your pussy is taking my cock.”
I lean against the table, my eyes looking over Tyson. His chiseled jaw, baby-blue eyes, and broad shoulders. His muscular arms and chiseled abs. He’s fucking gorgeous. And the fact that I’ve seen him in action just makes him that much more attractive.
“Just Pretend” by Bad Omens softly filters from the speakers.
The Spade brothers are Lords in a sense, but not what you’d think. They run their own hell, their own way. Just like I do with Blackout. They don’t have to answer to the higher-ups because you don’t get any higher than them. Not all who rule choose to watch peasants from their thrones. Some of us like to keep our hands dirty.
Getting to my feet, I walk around my desk and lean back against it, arms crossed over my chest. My eyes drop to her black Vans and slowly take in the black Charmnight fishnet tights—they have rhinestones on them to shine while working under the neon lights—up to her black booty shorts that I know show off her bubble ass with a form-fitting matching leotard that has a deep V showcasing her large breasts.
“Before every shift, you will come to my office, and I will fuck you,” I tell her. “You will feel my cum leak out of my pussy while you work. Do you understand me?’ “Yes,” she gasps, her body trying to fight me, but I’ve got her pinned in place.
I fuck her with my mouth and fingers until she’s crying out my name once again and she’s coming in my mouth while I devour her like she’s my last meal, loving the way she tastes like a peach—sweet and oh, so juicy.
This was the only way I knew to save her. But I’m no saint. I’m going to make her hate me more than she already does. Is one devil better than the other? No. Evil is evil. It doesn’t matter who dishes out the punishments. She’ll still see this as her hell. It’s taken years to get to this point. I’m not stupid. I didn’t expect her to accept her future with me overnight. She’s not like her sister was.
“I am the only god you will worship, little darling. Ready to get on your knees for me?”
So when he pulls through a wrought-iron gate and up to a house that could only be described as a haunted mansion, my eyes widen in surprise.
I pause, straightening my back, and turn to face him. He’s leaning up against the doorframe to the bathroom. One hand is shoved into the pocket of his slacks; the other holds a glass with nothing but ice left in it. He’s already finished the drink.
I’ve never been the girl who got turned on by the thought of role-play. But right now, I’d drop to my knees, pucker up my lips and call him Daddy if it meant he’d let me suck on his dick like it was my own personal pacifier. So I say, “Please, sir, fuck me.”
“You’re so beautiful when you’re a desperate slut, Mrs. Crawford.”
My eyes lift to the top of the stairs, and I see my wife in a red dress. Her hair down and curled, my collar around her neck and ring on her finger. It’s what I don’t see that has me hard as a rock. The bands around her nipples.
“When we get home, I’m going to rip this dress off you and tie you to our bed.” My cock hardens at the sound of her sharp inhale. “And if you don’t have two bands around your nipples, I will beat your ass black and blue with my belt.”
“Tyson.” She whimpers my name while her hand adds pressure to my now hard dick. But I’m not done. “And then I’ll put a vibrator up your cunt on the lowest setting so you can’t get off and then sit down and watch you beg and cry the rest of the night to get you off, but I won’t, Lake. It’ll be a punishment, just like last time. Not a reward.” I pull back and look her in the eyes. They’re as heavy as her breathing. I drop my free hand and very subtly run my knuckles over her dress, and her mouth parts when I reach her nipple. “Do you understand me?”
“But then I had asked Ryat about her, and he told me not to believe everything I hear. That she didn’t cheat on anyone with Tyson. That she had a stalker.”
I want a fight. A sick part of me likes when I make him feel something. It means I’m getting to him.
She’s panting, body shaking, and chest heaving. I hold the cylinder while my cock slowly fucks her pretty shaved pussy. Just teasing her, slowly, softly. I look up at her to see tears running down both sides of her face while her neck is arched. I twist it two more times, and she’s soaking wet. Once I feel she’s had enough, I unscrew it and release her clit. Her body sags into the bed, and I smile. “Not even close to being done, little darling.”
Licking my lips, I tell her. “I’m going to enjoy using you tonight.” I place my mouth on her pussy, and I eat her out as if every man who has ever wanted my wife is watching me please her, listening to her scream my name while she begs me for more.
“They removed her teeth,” Ryat speaks, obviously already having gone through these pictures. “They were pulled, not knocked out. All ten fingers had been dipped into some kind of liquid. Guessing acid. Maybe.” “No fingerprints,” I say more to myself than to him. But why? “She was also raped. By the bruising, I’d say multiple times over the course of when she went missing and when she was found.”
I lean back in my chair. “My freshman year at Barrington, twenty girls went missing over about five months. Five of those twenty were found raped and murdered. The bodies were recovered from different locations, but autopsies concluded barbwire was used as restraints.”
“This guy is either the original killer or a copycat.” “Why her, though?” I ask, knowing he can’t answer that. “The Lord back then did not choose girls old enough to be chosens, let alone Ladies. His victims were locals and didn’t attend Barrington. The girls didn’t even know Lords exist. This has to be personal. No one goes to that much trouble to torture and hide the identity of a body, and it not be for a personal reason.” “Her father is a Lord.” He shrugs.
She comes to a halt, and my eyes drop to the long dark strands of curled hair that fall down her back. Slowly, she turns to face me, and I’m not prepared for what I see. The dark color of her hair against her tan skin makes her eyes bluer. They look bigger, sexier.
She looks up at him through watery lashes, tears running down her face, body shaking uncontrollably. “Saint, please. I can’t…” “I’m going to fuck your mouth,” he tells her, and she shakes her head at him. “Yes. And after I come down your throat, I’m going to fuck that ass.”
Once they returned, he kissed her before he tied her down once again, this time facedown with her ass up in the air. And he fucked her ass just like he promised while we all watched her get off on it. Then he let his two friends fuck her ass as well. I get the whole watch me fuck what’s mine. But even then, I didn’t understand the concept of sharing. What’s the point of having something if everyone else gets it too?
To have a guy—your husband—tie your hands behind your back and give you an enema so he can fuck your ass.
“What if I have to fart?” I ask softly, my cheeks heating up with embarrassment.
“You like when I use your cunt, little darling? When I make you my whore?” Her lips are parted, her eyes growing heavy. She’s close to coming all over my cock. “Fuuuucckkkk,” her perfectly pouty lips say.
“It’s not the most attractive, but it gets the job done,” I tell her, looking over the large, black gag. It covers her mouth, cheeks and chin. It’s thick and bulky. “They call it the silencer,” I continue. “Because no matter how loud you scream, you won’t be heard.”
