The Sacrifice Read Online Shantel Tessier

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
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I pray to God it holds him because if he gets loose, I’m fucked.

“Lake,” he growls, his eyes meeting mine. “Untie me right fucking now.”

I tilt my head, my lips puckering in thought. “I don’t think so.”

“LAKE!” he shouts, his chest rising and falling fast. He takes in a deep breath. “If you don’t…”

“What are you going to do?” I stand, and his eyes shoot daggers up at me. I walk over to him and straddle his legs.

He stiffens when I drape my arms over his shoulders. I can feel his body vibrating with rage. I start playing with his hair, and he yanks his head away. I grab it and yank it back, and he bares his straight white teeth, growling at me.

I lower my face to his. “It sucks knowing that you’re helpless, doesn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer.

I get up off him and look down at his slacks. Bending over, I unzip them and reach inside, pulling his dick out. He’s not hard, but I didn’t expect him to be. Men like Tyson have to be the ones in control. They make the rules, the final decisions. But I have a feeling if I start playing with his dick, it’ll be inevitable.

I drop to my knees, and he shifts in the chair. I bite back a smile and look up at him as my tongue runs across the head of his pierced cock. His head falls back, giving me a view of his defined jaw. I can see his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows, and I his dick swells in my hand. I wrap my lips around the tip and push it into my mouth.

“Lake.” My name is breathless on his lips, and his head drops to look back down at me. His eyes are on fire, but his jaw now slack. Lips parted as he sucks in a deep breath.

“Tell me to suck your cock, baby,” I order softly, using a nickname that I know he’ll hate. Tyson isn’t the kind of guy that you call baby or sweetie. No, you kneel and call him sir or god. Fuck, I’d call him daddy if that’s what he was into. But he’s not in charge right now. I am.

“Suck my dick, Lake,” he orders. “Swallow it. I want to hear you choke on it.”

I smile and lick up his now hard shaft. I have a plan as to why I tied him up and am still giving him what he wants. I have to do this part in order to get to the point I have to prove.

I take him into my mouth, and he lifts his hips, pushing it farther down my throat and making me gag. I should have tied his damn body to the chair as well.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans. “That’s the sound I’ve been wanting to hear.”

I hate that my pussy throbs at his words. I’m supposed to be in charge here.

I suck on his dick, stopping here and there to swallow the saliva. I’ve never done this before—taken control. I’m not into being messy.

His leg muscles stiffen against my body, and I pull my mouth away, my hand taking over, and I quickly run it up and down.

“Fuck, Lake. I’m coming.”

I hold his dick in place as cum squirts from his cock up and down his chest. Some covering my hand. I pull it away and run it over his thighs on his slacks.

I stand to my full height and look down at him. His heavy eyes start narrowing on mine when he realizes I won’t untie him. “Enjoy breakfast, baby.” I turn and exit the formal dining room laughing.

FORTY-FIVE

TYSON

I yank on the rope, but it’s useless. She didn’t tie them incredibly tight; I’ve just got whatever she gave me still in my system. So I’m going to have to get out a different way.

Bending over, I pick the back two legs up off the floor and slam them down, breaking them in the process, and the rope falls off my wrists. The room still sways a little, but I’m able to stand and have full function of my limbs.

I run out of the formal dining room just as she looks over her shoulder, hearing me. She screams out as I grab her hair and yank her to me, spinning her around to face me.

Holding her hair, I shove her face into my cum-covered chest, smearing it all over her. Then pull back on her hair. “That’s more like it.”

Her eyes are closed, face scrunched. I drag her back into the room and shove her facedown over the side of the table. Reaching down, I grab the rope and double it over, making a quick single-column tie along her forearms, her arms parallel to each other. I allow the excess to fall down her back, knowing I’ll need the extra rope. If done correctly, it’ll look like a snake head with a hissing tongue—a loop at the top—that I will also need to use.


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