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He shakes his head. “No. There was one time I was at her parents’ house, and she was there but asleep.”
ASHTYN
Four days,I’ve stayed in my room. I haven’t left once. I eat, I sleep, and I cry mostly. I also spend a lot of time in the bathtub or shower. There’s just something so therapeutic about crying in there.
Saint visits me once a day for training. I’m getting better, or so he says. I suck a rubber dick, and then he fucks my mouth with his, leaves me crying, and then I scream into my pillow because I’m dying to fucking come so bad. I can’t even explain how raw, swollen, and wet my pussy stays. It’s a constant reminder that I’m his whore. This has to be his plan. I feel like I’m going through withdrawal. It could be the lack of alcohol, drugs, or the need to get off. It’s an itch that I can’t scratch because my hands are tied. My body has no clue what the fuck is going on anymore. I used to drink every night at work. More often than not, I’d pop some pills to get through my night. Then I’d go home and fuck James. Even if the sex wasn’t amazing, I still made sure I was getting myself off. Now none of that is happening.
Thoughts of my encounter the other day with Haidyn keep running through my mind. What did he mean bywe all take our punishment? What were they punished for?
I haven’t seen him since. I know he’s avoiding me, and I’m fine with that. The less I have to see him and Kashton, the better. It’s hard enough to handle Saint. I’m just waiting for all three of them to enter my room and for Saint to tell me it’s part of my “training.”
I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling. What else am I supposed to do? So I just lie in bed, eat when Jessie brings me food, and try my best to ignore the need to be fucked. My deep throat training is still daily, but I haven’t been granted a release.
Typical Lord.It’s all about them. It’s how they show their power. Their dominance. I’ve always been the submissive one in our relationship, so my body doesn’t understand what my mind knows.
I’m a toy now. He used to love me. But not anymore.
My throat is raw, my lips cracked, and my pussy is so swollen it aches. I find myself waking up in the middle of the night rubbing my thighs together praying it helps. It doesn’t. I’ve cried myself back to sleep and find myself having dreams that I get off.
Saint hasn’t come in and visited me yet today, so I’m not surprised when I look over to see my door open. My heart begins to race in anticipation to show him how much progress I’m making. Maybe this time he’ll let me come.
The bed dips at my side, and a hand caresses my cheek. It feels …wet. Am I crying? Possibly, I’m not sure.
My head tilts to the side, and I meet a set of green eyes. Saint stares at me with an emotionless look. I wish I could turn mine off. I’ve never been one to hide how I feel, and since I’ve returned, my emotions are tenfold.
“Get up and get ready. We’re leaving in two hours,” he states.
My heart leaps in my chest. “Where…where are we going?” I ask roughly. There’s no one for me to talk to so I never use my voice. The only thing my mouth is good for is for his cock to fuck. At least I’ve made progress in that department. Drooling all over myself like an infant while he calls me a “good girl” is the highlight of my day.
“An art show,” he answers, running his tatted knuckles down my jawline and chest. My nipples harden, and my breathing picks up.
“So…we’re going out?” I whisper. “Leaving Carnage?”
“You can stay here if you want.”
“No.” I sit up, and he arches a brow at my quick movement. “I want to go.” I clear my throat.
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, his hand makes its way back up over my breast and chin. He cups my cheek and leans in. I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead, he places his lips to my ear. “If you’re good for me, sweetheart, I’ll let you come tonight.”
I bite back a groan. Finally! My pussy throbs.
FIFTY-ONE
ASHTYN
Less than three hours later, we’re boarding a private jet in the middle of the woods. Nothing but a runway. Just like anything else the Lords have, it’s over the top. Black carpet with white leather seats with black stitching. And several tables around the aircraft are black marble.
Haidyn sits on a couch, texting away on his cell. He looks up, and his cold stare meets mine for a brief second before he goes back to what he was doing.
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear as Saint guides me to a seat. I sit down, and he buckles my seat belt as if I’m incapable of doing it myself. Kashton walks onto the jet a moment later, his cell to his ear. He walks right past all of us, and I watch him enter a door in the back.
A flight attendant walks over to us, and he gives me a kind smile. “Anything I can get you, miss?”
“We’ll take a bottle of Moet Imperial Brut.” Saint answers for me.
“Of course, sir.” He turns and walks away.
“Maybe I didn’t want champagne,” I say.
