Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
When he pulls back, I’m sucking in a deep breath. He spins me around, shoves me over the counter, and kicks my legs open with his shoes.
“I hope you like it rough.” Letting go of my hair, he brings my hands behind my back, and before I realize what he’s doing, I feel handcuffs tighten on my wrists.
I kick my legs out and go to scream but he lays his body on top of mine, pinning me down onto the counter, his body weight taking my air away. “Because we’re going to fucking use this body as it was intended for.”
We’re? “We?” I manage to rush out as fear grips my chest.
His weight is lifted from my back and he grips my hair, yanking me to stand. “What do you think?”
I frown, confused by the question, but he spins me around and my legs threaten to buckle at what I see.
Sin leans against the entrance to the kitchen. Arms crossed over his chest and eyes on mine. My heart is in my throat. The blood rushing in my ears is all I hear.
He pushes off and takes a step toward us. I go to run but Marcus wraps an arm around my neck, tight enough that I can’t breathe.
Sin comes to stand before me. His hand runs down my breasts over my shirt, and I fight the hold Marcus has on me.
Reaching into his pocket, Sin pulls out his pocketknife. He pops it open and slices down my shirt. My chest heaves when his fingers lightly run over my ribs and pull down my skirt. It falls to the floor.
When his cold eyes meet mine, he finally answers, “She’ll do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
SIN
MARCUS LAUGHS AT my answer while she stares at me wide-eyed. She is going to hate me when I’m done with her, but I don’t give a fuck.
My skin is on fire, my pulse racing. She let him touch her. Finger her. Put her in handcuffs, for fuck’s sake. Forget the fact that she belongs to me. The things Marcus and his friend could have done to her are endless.
Has she learned nothing about men? Fuck, growing up in a world knowing that Lords even exist should be enough to terrify her.
“Hear that?” he asks her, his mouth by her ear while she struggles in his grip. “You’re good enough to be our whore.”
She whimpers, tears fall over her bottom lashes.
“Put her on her knees,” I order.
He lets go of her neck and shoves her to the kitchen floor. She cries out when they hit the tile.
I grip her ponytail and yank her head back. She goes to speak but I press the tip of the knife to her cheek.
I stare at her unblinking. Her wide eyes go from mine to Marcus. “Don’t kill her before I get my turn.” He laughs, a smile spreading across his face at the thought of what he’s going to get to do to her. “We’re going to fuck you up, you little whore. You’ll be begging for death before we grant it.” He stands and leans his back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, getting comfortable to enjoy the show.
I’m going to give him one. “Drugs?” I question him.
“Gave her a little something,” he answers.
“What was it?” I snap, glaring at him.
“Something to put her in the mood.” His eyes are on hers kneeling in front of me. “She’ll enjoy being used. Well, until she loses consciousness anyway.”
I look at her, and sure enough her eyes are dilated, eyelids growing heavy. “Did she ask for it?” I need to know if she went to him for something, or if he just offered and she took it. Not sure why, it’s not going to change how I treat her.
He snorts. “She didn’t have to. The slut’s a druggie. Sold to her in the past. Saw her at the club and took the opportunity.”
She whimpers and my eyes drop to her pierced nipples, and they’re hard. I tilt my head, watching the way her chest rises and falls as she breathes.
I kneel before her, my knuckles run over her breasts and stomach. They drop to her thighs, and I gently run the back of my knuckles over them. She shifts on her knees that rest on the cold floor. Her throat moving when she swallows. I get to her underwear. “Spread your legs,” I demand.
She sucks in a deep breath but doesn’t argue. She opens them the best she can. I drop the knife to her underwear, cutting them away. I want her nude. I want her vulnerable. I want her to understand that her life is in my hands.
I run my fingers over her pussy, and she closes her eyes in shame. The movement of her chest picks up while her heavy breathing fills the room.