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My throbbing clit reminds me that we like being tied up. Case in point: my pussy is as soaked as my drool-covered face.
His face grows serious, smirk fading away as his eyes harden on mine. “If you make me punish you, Ashtyn, I will make sure you don’t enjoy it.”
My breath hitches, and he reaches up to cup my face in his hands. He tilts my head back; the movement pulls the rope tied to my collar, and I know he does it on purpose when a moan escapes my lips after it pulls on my pussy. Lowering his lips to mine, he kisses me. I open up, needing to feel some kind of physical touch from him. It’s been years since I’ve felt them. He always had power over me that made me a stupid bitch. This time will be no different. Like a tsunami hitting a city, it knocks me down and washes me away with nothing left.
I moan, leaning into him, wishing I could touch him. Feel him and pull him into me. His lips are soft, his kiss tender, whereas my lips are desperate. My tongue enters his mouth, and I lean forward, opening up more and wanting him to devour me.
But he lowers his hands from my face to my chin and holds my head into the wall while he pulls away. My heavy eyes open to see him glaring at me. He’s panting, and I’m still trying to catch my breath. His eyes look over my face, and I hope I made him proud today. I’m going to change, do better for him. Be the woman he deserves. He wants to make me his little slut, so I’ll be the most devoted, dick-crazed whore he’s ever seen.
I lick my lips, silently begging him to kiss me again, but instead, he pulls me from the wall and steps behind me and begins to untie the knot that’s wrapped around the ring to my collar. I feel his eyes on mine as I look up and meet his stare as he grabs the rope where it’s tied at my wrists behind my back, and he slowly pulls on it.
My thighs tighten on their own, feeling the rope slide along my pussy. A moan escapes my cracked lips as the rope burns the sensitive skin between my legs. I feel frustrated when it pops free, and he finishes untying me. My arms fall to my sides like dead weights once they’re free, and my eyes drop to the counter as I feel them tingle. I suddenly feel lost and cold. A shiver runs through my body.
The piece of rope is removed from around my upper arms and chest before he drops it onto the bathroom counter. Then he unclasps my collar. I’ve never felt so naked in all my life. His cum on my face, my body shaking, and my knees buckling while my pussy throbs with need.
He doesn’t say anything, just turns and exits the bathroom. When I hear the sound of the bedroom door shutting, I fall to my already sore knees in the middle of the bathroom and cry it out.
FORTY-FOUR
ASHTYN
Saint and Kashton may have dragged me back here, but that doesn’t mean I’ll spend my life locked in my room. I’ll go crazy. Literally. Maybe that’s their plan. Let me drive myself nuts. It wouldn’t be hard to do in Carnage. Look at my track record.
I wasn’t even here a month last time, and I shot Saint and escaped.
I’ve been wandering the halls for an hour now. Not really going anywhere specific. I just needed to get out of my room. There’s not even a TV in there, and listening to my own thoughts was giving me a headache. And that damn annoying clock…was driving me mad.
Coming to a stop in the hallway, I hear voices down at the end and make my way toward them.
No one is ever alone here. The place was always full of those that the Lords no longer wanted to deal with. The justice system puts criminals away in the real world but here, Carnage is where you go when death is too good for you. Carnage is a punishment for the ones who the Lords can’t control. They get the taste of power and wealth. They think that they can pull a fast one over on the Lords and the Lords prove them wrong. An overpopulated prison isn’t enough. Here, you are tortured and wish for death.
Eventually, I know I’ll feel the same way. I might not be a prisoner locked in a cell in the basement, but I’m also not free.
I’ll die here.
Saint was right. He’ll keep me alive and use me until he gets bored. Then he’ll bury me in the woods with all the others. The world will never know the difference. To them, I’ve been dead for years.
Coming to a stop, I peek into a room and see two guys and a woman. None of whom I know. I bite my bottom lip, watching the man separate the large batch of coke out onto a coffee table while he sits on a leather couch. Both men are wearing faded blue jeans and black T-shirts, and each has a gun on their hip attached to their belts. Security of some kind, I’m sure.
“Can I have some?”
He pauses, the razor blade in the center, and he looks up at the woman. “What will you do for it?” he asks. His dark eyes lazily run over her body. She’s dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. Her dark hair is matted, and her clothes are too big. They’re starving her. They do that to you here. It’s harder to run and fight when you’re weak. They love to see you beg for the essentials.
“Anything,” she says desperately, licking her cracked lips. Her vacant eyes focus on the drugs she’s craving. Another way to keep you compliant—get you addicted to drugs.
She reaches up and moves her hair to lay over one shoulder, and my breath catches when I see the 666 brand on the back of her neck. It’s her! The one I watched get dragged into the room and was placed in the straitjacket and then tortured.
She changed my life that night. I’ve wondered more than once if Tyson and Miles showed up at my mother’s to get rid of me for what I saw here at Carnage while trying to blame it on my brother and whatever he was going through. I hate that I’ll never know the truth.
After that night, I had fallen for Saint more than I already was. I still wish things would have been different. I never blamed Saint, Haidyn, or Kashton for the life they were going to live one day. They hated their fathers, but they were Lords, and a Lord never questions when he’s asked to serve. I actually wanted to be his and love this life with him. I would have run hell with him, no questions asked. But I was an idiotic little girl who didn’t understand what lay ahead.
“Hey. I bought it. I get a piece too,” the other guy whines.
“Sure. To show you our good faith, we’ll let you take a hit before payment,” the guy on the couch says as he finishes separating five lines. He removes his wallet, rolls up a hundred-dollar bill, and hands it to her.
She bends over and takes her hit before throwing her head back, sniffing. The muscles in her neck tighten at the motion.
“Go ahead. Have another,” the guy offers with a smile.
