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I can’t help but laugh at that, and he arches a brow. “Funny, huh?”
“You make it sound like a bad thing.” I’m still laughing. “You saying you didn’t want it?”
He places his right hand on my face and leans down. His lips almost touch mine, and my laughter dies completely. I hold my breath, knowing it smells awful. “I want nothing more than to fuck this pretty face, sweetheart,” he says softly, his eyes drilling into mine. He moves his fingers to run over my trembling lips. “And I’m going to. But when I do, it won’t be in a car with you drunk off your ass.”
I take a shaky breath, and he sits up, pulling his hands away. Pushing myself up as well, I lean my back against the headboard. “I hate this,” I whisper. “Will it always be this way?”
He sighs, running his hand down his unshaven face. “The Lords have rules for a reason,” he deflects.
“They don’t make any sense,” I growl.
“They don’t have to make sense to us. We just have to follow them.”
I roll my eyes and bow my head, rubbing my temples.
“It’s only three more weeks,” he reminds me, and I snort. It might as well be three years.
The sound of my phone going off with a text gets our attention, and he stands to pick it up off the floor where I threw it at him. He reads it and then hands it to me.
MOM: Tomorrow afternoon at 3. I’ll pick you up at 2:30. Be ready.
“Fuck this day,” I say, tossing it back on the floor without responding.
“What’s tomorrow at three?” he asks.
I curl up onto my side, facing him. “Therapy.”
“Want me to go with you?” he asks, his fingers gently pushing the hair off the side of my face.
“No,” I rush out, and he frowns. “God, no. You’ll only make it worse.”
“I just want to help.”
“I know, but she’d just try to convince you that I’m a whore addicted to sex and watching porn.” Aren’t I? I’ve let him call me his whore. Fuck, I want to be his anything. He can call me whatever he wants as long as he lets me come. I kind of even like the fact that he doesn’t allow me to. It makes it much more exciting and confusing.
“You make that sound like a bad thing.” He smiles, throwing my own words back at me.
I pull on the covers, yanking them up to my neck, suddenly self-conscious that I’m still naked and he’s fully clothed. “No man wants a whore,” I say.
That’s what my mom and her therapist tell me. Not one who actually enjoys sex anyway. We’re supposed to do it because it’s expected of us. You’re supposed to do as you’re told but hate it at the same time. It’s all a fucking mind game that no one is supposed to figure out.
He gets up off the bed, and I roll over, giving him my back. I’m tired. I need more sleep and for this headache to go away. The text from my mother just made it worse. Yawning, I close my eyes, but they spring open the moment the covers are yanked from my body. I’m turned onto my back as Saint’s knee digs into the bed beside me. He shoves my hands above my head, and I scream out, legs kicking as he secures them in place. “What the…?”
Positioning himself between my legs, he easily spreads them wide open, and I pant, looking up at him. “Saint,” I breathe, yanking on my hands. “What are you doing?”
“Let’s get one thing straight, Ashtyn,” he says. Both hands grip my hips, and he holds me pinned to the bed. The soft sheet underneath me hurts my ass and thighs that he took a belt to last night. “There’s nothing wrong with watching porn. Or wanting sex. And there’s sure as fuck nothing wrong with wanting to bemywhore.”
My breath catches at his words. The reminder ofSaint’s good girlin Sharpie makes my thighs tighten around his waist. He could write it on my neck for all I care. Let him show my mom that he wants me.
“Because I’m going to make you exactly that.” His hand moves over my pelvic bone and between my legs. “They’ve got you brainwashed if you believe that shit.” His thumb runs over my clit, and I moan, lifting my hips off the bed. “And although I don’t like what they’ve made you believe, I have no problem undoing it. So, starting today, right now, I’m going to train your body and your mind to be my whore. And I’ll continue to do so. Do you understand me?”
I nod quickly, trying to catch my breath.
“Say ‘I’m going to be your dirty little whore, Saint.’”
Sucking in a deep breath, I whisper, “I’m going to be…”
He wraps his hand around my throat, cutting off my words and my breath. He lowers his face to mine and speaks. “Louder, Ash. Make me fucking believe it.” He sits back up, but his hand remains around my throat, though it no longer cuts off my air.
