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SAINT
We stepoff our private jet and get into the waiting limo. She hasn’t even looked at me since I refused to kiss her. Honestly, I’m dying to kiss her lips both on her face and the ones between her legs. I used to love going down on her. The way she’d call out my name and grab my hair. Pleasing her made me happy. Now I have to deny myself because I refuse to give her what she wants.
I know it sounds childish. But it’s not the first thing I’ve done that seems stupid.
She sits beside me in the limo, legs crossed over one another. Refusing to pay me any attention, she stares out the window as New York passes by. We’re here to support a friend. A fellow Lord who started his own business right out of Barrington.
He owns twenty-five locations in the world, but the very first one was here. He’s turned it into a franchise. I look up at Kash, and he’s staring at his cell. He swore to us thatshewouldn’t be here tonight. Otherwise, Ashtyn wouldn’t be joining us.
I didn’t want to leave her back at Carnage, though, not with all three of us gone. Even if it is just for the night. So here we are.
We turn down into an alleyway, and the car comes to a stop. I get out first, then reach my hand inside to help her. Her hard eyes look up at me while ignoring my help, and my lips twitch, holding back a smile. I always win. And I will make sure to remind her that later tonight when I get her all alone.
A man stands at a black metal door with a clipboard in one hand and wearing an earpiece, dressed in an all-black suit. His eyes go straight to Ashtyn. I reach out and take her hand, tightening my grip when she tries to pull away.
“Name?” he asks.
“Spade,” Haidyn answers before I can.
The guy finds the name, and you can see him counting in his head to make sure it says times four on the piece of paper he’s been given. After a second, he nods and steps to the side. Kashton opens the door, and I usher Ashtyn in first.
We walk down a dimly lit hallway. Ashtyn’s heels are the only sound. I pull her behind me, still holding her hand captive in mine. We come to a new set of doors, and we enter the main building.
FIFTY-TWO
ASHTYN
“What is this place?” I whisper, looking around with wide eyes, no longer caring about giving Saint the silent treatment.
There’s a woman on all fours and a piece of glass that sits on top of her flat back. People are sitting on a couch surrounding her using the glass as a coffee table while her back supports it.
Another naked woman is on her knees and elbows in the middle of the room. Her legs spread wide open for everyone to see her ass and pussy. Cum leaks from it as if she was just fucked. Her wrists are tied together and behind her head, secured with the rest of the rope wrapped around her neck, forcing her forehead down onto the marble floor.
A set of hands land on my hips, and I jump. Saint leans his lips down to my ear. “This is an art show, sweetheart. An exhibit of sorts.”
“Of sex?” I question, mouth open.
He chuckles in my ear and then slaps my ass. “Come on. We’ve got a show to catch.” Grabbing my hand, I allow him to pull me down a hallway to a set of double doors at the end. He pushes one open, and we enter a room.
We walk down the aisle with rows of chairs on either side. A chill runs up my spine of how much it reminds me of the vow ceremony day when I gave myself over to him in front of the Lords. But I’m not the one on center stage this time.
We make our way to the front, and I sit next to Kashton on my right. Saint sits to my left in the aisle seat, and Haidyn is on the other side of Kash.
I look over the set that is center stage. There’s a red leather couch with a black curtain backdrop. That’s it. Nothing and no one are present. The lights are dimmer in here than out in the hallway.
I lean into Saint and ask, “What are they going to do?”
He places his right hand on my left thigh, and my eyes drop to look at it. My inkless skin looks out of place against his tatted knuckles. He squeezes my thigh before he slides his hand up my leg. I tense when it reaches the hem of my black shorts. Saint notices and looks over at me. The cocky smirk he gives me makes me nervous as if he knows what’s to come.
“You parade them around in front of their friends.”I pray this isn’t some sort of show where they take volunteers from the audience.
A man walks out onto the stage, and all chatter ceases.
“Hello, gentlemen.” He claps his hands once, and I notice that he makes no attempt to acknowledge the women in the room. Giving a quick look around, I count several. But I get a sickening feeling in my stomach once more, reminding me that it’s like the night of the vow ceremony at the cathedral where we willingly gave ourselves to our Lords. The women here are to be put on display, not respected.
He continues to address the men in the room, and I tune him out as I look him over. He’s attractive—dark hair, clean cut, and shaven face. He wears black slacks and a matching button-down with his sleeves rolled up his tan and muscular arms. I see no wedding ring—just a watch on his right wrist.
He looks familiar, though. Something about him…
