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)
Growling, I open my laptop that sits on my desk in the corner. Leaning over, I ignore the sting on my ass and send an email to the Lords.
Slamming it shut, I stare at the wall trying to wrap my head around what the fuck happened. I don’t even know what day it is or how long I’ve been here in my house. A prisoner in my own basement.
I fucking peed in front of him. I let him wash me. He humiliated me for his own sick pleasure. I can never face him again. No matter what his body made me feel.
Picking up my cell, I pull up my friends group chat and send a text. The ones who don’t know the real me. The friends I had to make with my fake life…for him. At least something good came out of it.
Night out tonight?
I pace my room as I wait for a response. I’ll get drunk here by myself tonight if they can’t go out, but seeing them would be better. Getting the fuck out of my house knowing that I spent—however long—in the basement while Haidyn hung out here as well.
I’ve still got the bruises on my knees from the storm drain and his fingerprints on my hips where he held me in place and fucked my ass.
I kneeled and peed in front of him. Does he think he can humiliate me like that and just walk away because it wasn’t up to his standards? Fuck Haidyn Jamison Reeves! He’s not walking away. I’m walking away. I’m fucking done!
My phone dings, and I rush over to the bed to see they responded. My hand instinctively goes to my ass to rub the fucking Band-Aid. Goddamn, why does it hurt so much?
CHELSEA: Absolutely. Let’s go to Blackout.
NIKKI: Going out? Aren’t you on vacay? What are you doing back so soon?
Shit! I forgot I’m supposed to still be gone. I never gave them a timeframe, but surely, I haven’t been gone long enough to be done backpacking through Europe. I look at the date on my cell.
Two days? I was in my basement for two days? What the actual fuck! It felt like at least five. How do I explain two days of being gone? How weak am I that I gave in to what he wanted that fast? What does that say about me? I can say that he blackmailed me—forced my hand—all I want, but I wanted it too. I could have chosen death over being his whore.
Before I can come up with a lame lie, my other friend responds.
CHELSEA: Who the fuck cares why she’s back early. I’m glad she’s home and ready to party.
She sends another.
CHELSEA: I have Molly. Let’s spend the night getting fucked up.
Setting my phone down, I make my way to my bathroom with my head held high, trying to tell myself not to feel defeated. Women have been doing dumb shit for men long before me.
Flipping on the light, I come to my mirror and gasp as my eyes get a look at myself in front of the his-and-hers sinks. I’m covered in fresh bruises from my neck to my ankles. I look like I got hit by a car. Some are from the belts and collar, and others are from Haidyn’s hands. Swallowing the knot in my throat, I turn around to inspect my ass, and my body stiffens when I see there is a large bandage on my left cheek. With shaky hands, I start to remove it.
THIRTY-THREE
HAIDYN
Isit in my office at my house, watching her on one of the monitors. She’s standing naked in her bathroom, her back facing the mirror as she looks at her ass over her shoulder. Removing the bandage, she hisses in a breath before ripping it off.
She freezes where she stands, the used bandage dropping to her bare feet. Eyes wide and lips parted, she stays silent and unmoving as all the color drains from her pretty face.
I smile to myself as I read the word HAIDYN on her ass cheek. I branded her after I fucked her last night. It was the icing on the cake. It was something too good to pass up. In weeks, months, years from now, I want her to remember who the fuck I am.
I may have not been her first, but I will be the one that reminds her who the fuck she is—a pretty little whore that I once used.
The sound of her screaming fills my office as the initial shock wears off at what she sees. Leaning forward, I turn off the monitors and sit back in my seat, placing my hands on my thighs. I fucked my little whore and branded her. She’ll never be the same. No matter who she ends up with, he’ll see that. Hell, a fucking bikini will show the world that I was there. Nothing she can do will cover it up. I mean, I guess she could tattoo over it. Unless she cuts it off, it’ll remain.