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)
“Help me out.” I bark at him as she goes feral. I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself. That’s for me to do.
He holds both sides of her face as I rip off the end of the duct tape that they obviously wanted me to use. He holds her head helping me as I wrap it around her head, covering everything from her chin to underneath her nose, making sure not to cover the hole in her mouth guard. Once done, I toss the tape to the side and go over to my nightstand and pull out what I need. Then I go back over to her, grip her taped cheeks, and bite the lid of the Sharpie and write on the tape.
They want me to make her mine? Then I’ll do just that.
I grab the blanket and toss it over the lower part of her body, so no one sees her as we push out of her room.
TWENTY-FOUR
ASHTYN
One, two, three, four… I count the buzzing fluorescent lights that pass by as I stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the burning of my skin. I have no control over any part of my body. I’m strapped down to a bed as Haidyn and Saint push me through Carnage.
My vision has finally returned, but they took away my voice with the gag. It’s bulky and rubber, filling my mouth. My teeth dig into it as saliva runs down the back of my throat and every now and then, I gag on it. They ignore me. The tape that he wrapped around my cheeks is pinching my skin.
I love you, sweetheart.
His words keep echoing in my head like a song on repeat. It’s what every girl wants to hear, right? I’ve heard others at Barrington say love is hard. I never believed them. Loving Saint has been the easiest thing in my life.
Until now. Why does it have to be so painful? Why do I have to be so stupid?
It’s a game of lose-lose. I mean love is like anything else—temporary. People fall in and out of love just as easily as people pass away. You just wake up one day and no longer feel anything for them. I’ve seen it. Not in my world, but the one that doesn’t know we exist.
They bring me to a stop, and I hear the metal squeak of a heavy door. I can’t breathe. My arms are secured tightly to my chest. My legs are also strapped down and I try to yank them free, but there’s no use. The leather straps I’m buckled in just rub against my skin, and I feel like I’m covered in razors. It burns so bad. But why am I so wet?
My pussy clenches, and I cry into the gag, hating how fucking wet I am right now.
Saint looks down at me, and his eyes soften. I close mine as a sob wracks my body. This isn’t about pleasure. He’s going to hurt me. But he knows I like pain and get off on it.
Is that his plan? Humiliate me? Have me beg him to fuck me? I’m naked and my nipples are hard rubbing against the itchy inside of the straitjacket. My arms are crossed right underneath my breasts and my body gently rocks back and forth with the movement of the bed they’ve got me tied to.
They wheel me forward, and the sound of a door latching behind us has my heart racing. Looking around aimlessly, I see nothing but concrete walls. I’m strapped in a straitjacket sweating my ass off with a blanket over me, yet coldness sets over me. The room is freezing.
They place me in the center and rip the blanket off.
I buck, thrash, and scream into the gag. I can’t stop trying to escape. But do I want to? I’m not sure. I pull my thighs to close to hide my wet pussy, but of course, it doesn’t work. I’m wide open for him to see, and my face heats up with embarrassment.
The bed I’m strapped to is adjusted where my head is lifted and my feet lowered, tilting me so I’m more upright than lying down. The new position has me sliding down just a tad, pushing the already tight belt around my neck pushes deeper against my throat.
My eyes catch sight of the mirror in front of me, and suddenly, I can’t breathe.
I’m the woman. The one on display for whoever is on the other side of the two-way glass.
My eyes shoot over to the back of Saint, and I see him at a counter, but he’s standing in the way. I can’t see what’s in his hand. Haidyn stands next to him. “Adrenaline?” he asks, but it’s muffled over the blood rushing in my ears.
“No,” Saint answers. “I don’t want to kill her.”