I sit on my bed at the house of Lords, watching her on my phone. I have cameras in her room at her parents’ house and her place. They’ve been there for over a year now. I was up all night last night with the Lords and finally dropped her car off at seven this morning. I wanted to go inside and see her so badly but made myself leave.
I forced myself to go home and get a few hours of sleep. When I woke up, I couldn’t help it. I pulled up the footage of her in her room and watched her wake up this morning.
She left an hour ago to go to her mother’s therapy session that I know she makes her attend. But on my cell, she’s lying on her bed watching porn on her phone. I can hear the woman moaning and gagging as she gets fucked by what sounds like several men.
Ashtyn rocks back and forth on top of her duvet. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and her left hand massages her breast. She’s so fucking needy it’s adorable.
I imagine my sweetheart on her hands and knees crawling across the floor to me with tears in her eyes begging me to fuck her. To let her come.
“Saint,” she moans my name, and I groan.
Fuck, I’ve never heard anything so desperate, and I’ve watched grown men beg for their lives. Nothing can top her.
I push my sweatpants down and grab my hard cock in my hand. I imagine her on her stomach lying between my open legs with her lips wrapped around my cock. Pretty blue eyes full of tears looking up at me as she gags. Drool running from her perfect lips as tears fall down her cheeks. It’s a sight to see, and I can’t wait to record her on my phone so I can show her how pretty she looks being my dirty whore.
Her head falls back, and she pinches her nipple, pulling on it slightly, making herself gasp. But she doesn’t let go. Instead, she pulls harder, her teeth sinking into her lip to stifle a cry.
She likes pain. I’ve watched her push herself over and over the last year on the hidden cameras I have in her room.
Reaching over, she grabs the vibrator that lies next to her, and her room fills with the buzzing sound. She spreads her legs wide and places it on her pussy over her nude color underwear. She’s never naked when she gets herself off. I think the thought of touching herself makes her nervous. Too afraid she’ll go too far and end up fingering herself.
“Oh…God…” she moans, her hips bucking as she sinks further into her mattress.
I’ll be the one she fucks soon, and she’ll understand that God won’t be able to help her.
Her phone falls from her hand, and she lets it lie next to her as she rides the vibrator. Her voice rises, and she slaps her free hand over her face. My hand tightens on my hard cock when she pinches her nose, restricting her air.
“Oh sweetheart,” I whisper, loving that she’s showing me what she likes. She’s not afraid to experiment. She has no clue just how good it can be.
I’m not a virgin. I fucked in high school. The thought of having to go three years without sex during college was a challenge that I was more than ready to accept. But the moment I realized that the one I desired wanted me back was when I almost said fuck the Lords. But the thought of anyone else having her won over.
If I fucked her, I’d be kicked out, and she would be a used-up whore since she has to be a virgin for her Lord. I refused to take that chance. If anyone else fucks her other than me, it’ll be because I’ll allow them to.
I watch her hips buck, and she shakes her head while still holding her hand over her face and pinching her nose. She stiffens, and her neck arches as she comes in her underwear.
Removing her hand, she gasps and turns the vibrator off. She’s panting as she throws it to the floor, and I look over the now wet stain that covers her pussy. If I were there, I’d tear them off and shove them into her mouth so she could taste herself while I bury my face between her shaking legs and force her to come again on my face.
After a minute, she gets up and puts her vibrator away and walks to her bathroom. The woman still getting gangbanged on her phone is the only sound I hear.
Moments later, her door opens, and I release my dick and sit up straighter. Her mom walks over to her bed and picks up Ashtyn’s cell. Her mouth drops open at the sound of the woman gagging.
Just then, Ashtyn exits her bathroom now fully dressed, and her mother looks up at her. “Mom?” she shrieks.
“What in the fuck are you doing?” her mother demands, holding Ashtyn’s cell up.
She crosses her arms over her chest and rolls her eyes. “It’s just porn, Mom. Not like I’m fucking anyone.”
Her mom huffs and stops the video before throwing it onto her bed. “Get ready. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
“Where are we going?” Ashtyn asks, stepping forward.
Her mother storms out without answering, slamming her bedroom door, and Ashtyn huffs. She knows where they’re going and so do I. Her mother is taking her to see her therapist. She swears she’s a sex addict.
She doesn’t like that Ashtyn is curious.
My cell rings, interrupting the video, and I see it’s a Lord. I take a deep breath and hit answer. This is the call I’ve been waiting for. He better hope it’s the news I want.
ASHTYN
My mother and I enter my parents’ house, and my father’s right-hand man stands in the foyer. “Your father wants to see you in his study,” he says to me.
I nod and begin to walk that way. My mother’s heels clapping on the marble floor lets me know she’s following.
“He wants to see Ashtyn. Alone,” Dean calls out.
“I’m her fucking mother and will accompany her,” she snaps at him. Grabbing my upper arm, she drags me down the hall and bursts through the double doors.
My father stands at the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the woods at the back of the property. “Altus—”
“Leave us,” he commands.
She straightens her stance. “I will not…”
“Get the fuck out before I have you thrown out.” His voice is calm as he swirls his scotch in the glass. He takes a sip, and I see Dean standing at the double doors with an “I told you so” look pointed at my mother.
She lets out a huff, and I drop my eyes to the floor. The doors slam shut moments later.
“Ashtyn?”
“Yes, Father?” I raise my eyes to meet his.
“The vow ceremony is soon.”
“I understand what is expected of me.” My mother has made it very clear she does not want me offered to a Spade brother, but it’s out of her control. My father is a Spade brother, and since he has a daughter, I must serve the next generation. I’m currently the only daughter of a Spade brother among the Lords. The other three women who are chosens are from high-ranking Lords. The Spades only accept the top tier when it comes to pussy. And the Lords are like anything else—some hold more power than others.
A Spade brother is a Lord, but they have their own rules, initiations, and ways of performing the ritual when taking on a chosen. Other chosens have the option of accepting their Lord. I do not. I’m given away no matter what.
He finishes his drink before setting the empty glass on his desk. Pulling back his suit jacket, he places his hands in the pockets of his dress slacks. His cold stare meets mine. “You won’t disappoint me, will you?”
“No, Father,” I rush out. “I’m still…”
He holds up a hand to stop me, and I bite my lip. Running his hand down his face, he sits in his chair. “Your mother thinks you’re out whoring around.” He glares at me, and the way he says it, I feel he’s still on the fence. “That fucking therapist she takes you to said you’re too advanced for a virgin.”
I flinch at his words. Sex is so openly discussed in our society, yet they don’t want us to have it. It’s like dangling a feast in front of a starving man. Most fathers in the world would never mention the word sex to their daughters. Yet my father is going to watch another man fuck me for my first time. “I don’t understand what that means,” I say honestly. “But I assure you, she’s wrong.”
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
I swallow nervously. I’ve done my research, and I may not bleed my first time for several reasons. Like when I was twelve and spent my summer away at horse camp. Nonintercourse trauma is a thing. I’ve read up on it before.
“You may go.” He drops his eyes to his computer, dismissing me.
I turn around to leave and see Dean open the door for me. Of course, he didn’t leave when my mother did. I softly thank him for holding it open. Once in the hallway, I run to the grand foyer and rush up the stairs into my room. I’m going to grab a few things and head to my house for the week. I’ve had about enough of my mother for the day. She’ll be watching me like a hawk now.
My black curtains are closed, so it’s giving the illusion it’s nighttime. I make my way to my nightstand and flip on the small lamp. Seeing a box sitting on my bed below my pillow makes me frown.
I untie the white lace and remove the lid. Pulling back the tissue paper, I find a folded piece of paper. I open it up.
I vow.
You vow.
We vow.
Six words and fifteen letters that everyone in my world knows by heart. The vows we must take in order to give us purpose. They are what a chosen must speak to her Lord. Some even say it in their vows for marriage. It is an oath, a promise to serve.
My hands shake, and I drop the letter to pull back the black tissue paper. Inside the box sits pieces of leather of various lengths and widths.
Two are longer and wider than the other two. There’s a fifth one thinner in width with a silver ring in the middle.
A collar.
I’ll be a Lord’s pet.
Something to be used and played with. The thought has my breath hitching and my pulse racing.
A light turns on, illuminating the room, and I jump back with a scream when I see a man sitting on the small couch by my bay windows.
He’s leaning back into the cushions, arms fanned across the top, legs spread wide. He’s dressed in dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and a Lords mask—white with gray lines on it that resembles cracks. The eyes and lips are black as if a bottomless pit of darkness.
I place my hand on my pounding chest and take a step back from the side of my bed as he gets up and walks toward me. He’s in no rush, and I swallow nervously. I turn to face him as he rounds the end of the bed. When I step back, my ass hits my nightstand, and I whimper.
Coming to a stop, he stands silently in front of me. My heart hammers in my chest as my pussy clenches. My breathing fills the room. I’m terrified and turned on at the same time. I’ve felt this way while watching scary movies, but to experience it firsthand is like nothing I’ve ever known.
He just stands there, and I can feel his eyes on me. I shuffle on my feet in the silence, wondering who it is and what he’s thinking.
Slowly, I reach my hands up and quickly pull them down. When he makes no move to stop me, I do it again. I lick my lips, and my fingers touch the tip of the mask on the chin and start to push it up.
A part of me hopes he stops me. I like surprises. The unknown. Another part is terrified that it’s not Saint. And if so, I’m going to cry. Don’t get me wrong, I love Haidyn and Kashton, but Saint is it for me.
Taking in a shaky breath, I push it up. The mask pops off his head and falls to the floor, and I look into a set of bright green eyes. I’ve seen them a million times, but they’ve never looked like this. Hungry. Forbidden.
“Saint.” I manage to whisper his name, and a whimper escapes my parted lips when his knuckles touch my face.
“Sweetheart.” He smiles down at me.
My thighs clench. This has to be a dream. “You’re my…” I swallow. “I’m your chosen?”
“You’re mine.” He nods once, his eyes roaming my face.
I look over at my bed, and his hand drops from my face. “Are these from you?”
“They are.”
My pulse races at his confession, and the blood rushes in my ears. Suddenly, the room is too hot, and I tug at my shirt, needing some fresh air.
“I can’t wait to see you dressed in nothing but them.”
I never understood the meaning of butterflies in your stomach until now. Nothing about his words are vulgar, but the thought of standing in front of him naked makes me nervous. Terrified actually. I’ve always wanted this, yet I’m still afraid of what’s to come. What he’ll do to me once I’m his. Last night, I was drunk, but now I’m sober and realize he’ll be able to do whatever he wants to me in three weeks.
Avoiding his stare, I pick up the leather straps. I hold two in my hand. “What are these for?” I ask, although I have an idea.
“You’ll wear these for the vow ceremony,” he answers.
My eyes snap up to his. That butterfly sensation intensifies. “Ceremony?”
He holds the one in his hand out, and I give him a nod, like I’m curious. I’ve watched some fucked-up shit when it comes to porn. I know damn well what they are. But I’ll let him think he’s teaching me something. I have no problem dumbing myself down for a man who wants to feel superior. Especially if it’s Saint. Sacrifices must be made in our lives.
He wraps the rough leather around my small wrist, buckling it in place. Then he turns it to where the small silver ring is at the top.
I pick up the second one that matches it in the box and hold it out to him with shaky hands. He places it on my other wrist as well. The leather that lines the insides, rub against my skin and make my arms heavy. “And these?” I point at the ones just a tad longer in length.
“They’re for your ankles.”
A tingle runs up my spine. I’ll be strapped down when he takes my virginity. For some reason, that thought never crossed my mind. Did I expect it to be on a bed of roses with candles lit all around us while soft music played in the background? No. But I didn’t think it’d be a BDSM scene either. Is he going to whip me too?
“So…” I stop myself, unable to finish my question. My breathing comes quicker and quicker. I’m excited but also nervous. I’ve read where fear can feel the same as excitement. So the fact that my underwear is soaked, I’d say both turn me on.
“It’s going to hurt.” My pussy clenches, and he reaches up, pushing my hair from my face. “But I promise to make it feel better later.”
Translation—when we’re alone.
“We’ve got to give them a show,” he continues at my silence.
A show? “You want me to fake it?” I ask. Maybe my mother was right. She’s been through this before and knows exactly what will happen.
“You won’t ever have to fake it, sweetheart.” He smirks. “If I want you to come, you’ll come. If I don’t want you to, you won’t.”
I frown, not understanding. “Why wouldn’t you want me to come?” I’ve never seen a video where a woman doesn’t get off. Usually, they come over and over. They make it look like the best type of torture.
He chuckles. “I have so much to teach you.” Leaning in, he gives my forehead a gentle kiss and then turns to walk toward my door.
My pulse races, and I step forward. “Teach me something now,” I rush out.
Stopping, he places his hands in his pockets and turns to face me once again. I hold my breath, waiting for him to leave. We’re not allowed to do anything together. We’ve both gone this long, what’s three more weeks? But the fact that he’s here in my room, and I now know that he’ll be my Lord, I don’t want him to leave. I’m desperate to keep him here for as long as possible.
I look down at the box, desperately trying to find something. A shiny silver thing gets my attention. It’s got a latch on either side. There are four of them, but I pick up one. “What is this?”
He takes it from me, answering, “It’s a double-ended bolt snap.”
I frown. Sounds like it belongs in a garage, not in the bedroom. “Will you show me what it’s for?”
Stepping back, he slowly looks me up and down. I want to ask if he wanted me to be his chosen or if he got stuck with me. But does it really matter? No. He’s the one I’ve hoped to serve, and I won’t ask why I was so lucky.
“Get undressed,” he orders.
I lift my eyes to meet his, and I stare at him in disbelief, but my nipples harden at the way his voice changes. Authoritative. Commanding. I have the urge to disobey to see if he rips them off me, but I don’t want to take the chance of him leaving.
I’m not as drunk and as ballsy as I was last night at the party. I’m sober and terrified now.
He arches a dark brow at my hesitation.
Afraid he’ll leave, I take a shaky breath and grab the hem of my T-shirt. I pull it over my head, toss it to the bed, then undo my bra. I let it fall and instinctively shield my chest with my hands.
“Modesty is something you’ll learn to get over, sweetheart.”
My wide eyes go to his, and he stares at me expectantly. He waits for me to follow through on my end.
Slowly, I drop my hands from my chest and undo my shorts, kick off my shoes, and lower them along with my thong. I stand naked in front of him, and my heart hammers in my heaving chest.
“Turn around. Hands behind your back,” he orders.
I gladly turn my back to him and take a deep breath, doing as I’m told. He jerks on the leather around my wrists, bringing them behind my back, and places his hands on my shoulders, turning me to face him. “Better.” He smiles, his eyes dropping to my bare chest.
Pulling on my arms, I realize the silver thing he held in his hand is now gone. It must connect the cuffs to one another with the silver rings attached to the leather. I get confirmation when I try to pull my arms apart from behind my back. They’re tied together, and the inside of the leather rubs harshly against my wrists.
I bite my lip to keep from moaning, but my pussy throbs, loving the lack of movement. I’ve never wanted to touch him more than I do right now, knowing that I can’t.
He walks over to the couch where he was when I entered and sits down on it. “Come here,” he commands, and wetness pools between my shaky legs.
I slowly walk around my bed and over to him to stand in front of the couch. This is what I’ve dreamed of—Saint and I together. Me naked and begging him to fuck me. But my heart is racing. I never expected it to play out this way. And he’s fully dressed.
“Spin around for me, sweetheart. Show me what I’ve waited to see.”
Dropping my head, I do a slow spin, trying to calm my breathing and ignore my racing heart. When I get to face him, he pats his jean-clad thigh. “Have a seat.”
It’s hard, but I manage to straddle his right thigh. His hands go to my waist, and the touch burns my skin. “Push your ass back, hips forward. Open your legs,” he commands as he spreads his wide, giving me room to do as he says.
“I—”
He slaps my outer thigh, and I yelp in surprise as the lingering sting makes my pussy clench.
“It wasn’t a question or a suggestion. Do as you’re told, or I’ll gag you.”
I moan, not even realizing it before it’s too late, and he smiles at the sound. My cheeks heat with embarrassment, but I manage to position my hips, pushing them forward while I arch my back and push my ass back. My head drops forward when I realize why he wanted me in this position. The roughness of his jeans rubs against my swollen clit.
“That’s it, Ash.” His fingers dig into my thighs, pinching the skin.
I lift my head and move my hips back and forth. “Oh God…” I swallow and gasp in a breath as my hips pick up speed, rocking back and forth on his thigh.
“Look at how fucking needy you are, sweetheart.” He lets go of my thigh and slaps it again.
I’m gasping. All hesitation I had a second ago is now gone.
Both of his hands leave my thighs, and he grabs my hard nipples and pulls them forward.
I cry out, hips now bucking in response to the pain.
“You like that?” He pulls harder, and my shoulders shake at the sting. “Fuck, you’re a needy whore. Aren’t you?”
“Y-es,” I say, nodding. The friction of his jeans rubs in just the right spot. “God—”
He slaps the side of my breast, cutting me off. “There is no God here, sweetheart. Make no mistake, you will kneel for me, but the things I have planned for you are anything but holy.”
I moan, knowing that I’ll devote my life to him. I’ll be his most trusted servant.
“You’re going to beg me for it, aren’t you? Like a good girl needing to be treated like the slut she is.”
I already knew that, but I love how he makes it sound like a promise I’ll make him keep. “Yes…please…”
“Please what?” His hand goes back to my nipples, and he pinches them harder than before. I find myself pulling away, liking the way it stings.
“Please, may I come?” I ask, knowing I’m so close. I’ve never come without a toy before. I didn’t even know it was possible to get off without touching yourself in some way.
“Not yet,” he answers.
“Saint,” I gasp, “please…”
He slaps me across the face this time, and my pussy pulses. It wasn’t like when my mother hit me. It felt different…sensual. I imagine it’s what a kiss feels like, and I lick my lips.
His hand then grips my chin, my hair wild in my face. His free hand pushes it back, and I’m gasping for breath. “Did I say stop?” he asks, and I realize I’m no longer moving.
“No,” I choke out, pulling on the leather cuffs that bind my hands behind my back. My shoulders burn, and my hands fist. I just want to touch him. To kiss him. Run my hands through his dark hair and pull his face to mine. My lips are parted, and his eyes are on them like he wants to taste me.
“Keep riding my thigh, sweetheart. Show me how desperate you are.”
I start again, and my pussy is so swollen. I’m wet, dripping for him.
His one hand remains gripping my chin while the other pushes two fingers into my mouth. I suck on them but gag when they hit the back of my throat.
“We’ll work on that. You’ll spend a lot of time on your knees, sweetheart, while I fuck those pretty lips.”
I whimper, loving the idea of that. “Yes, sir.” I don’t know why the breathless words come out of my mouth, but they do. I’ve seen it in the videos I watch, and it just felt right. Fuck, I’ll call him Daddy if he wants.
“That’s a good girl,” he growls, slapping me again, and my hips buck involuntarily. “You’re just a toy begging to be played with, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I nod frantically. Tears sting my eyes, and my thighs clench both sides of his. “Please, play with me,” I beg, shamelessly pushing my chest closer to his face, wanting him to pinch my nipples again.
“In time, sweetheart. In time.” His fingers wrap around my throat, forcing my head back.
I stare up at the ceiling while tears fall from the corners of my eyes, and my hips move back and forth. When I swallow against his hand, it tightens, and my lips part, but there’s nothing to breathe in.
My chest bows out, my thighs clenching the one I’m grinding my swollen pussy on. Stars dance across my vision as if they’re falling across a dark night, and heat rushes over my skin like I’m on fire. My nipples are hard, and my tied hands fist. I stop, my body stiffening as a wave washes over me, drowning me in an endless ocean.
He releases my neck, and I suck in a deep breath. My body shakes, and he cups my face, forcing my head down to look at him. He’s smiling, but I can’t even feel my lips right now. “You came all over my leg, sweetheart. Such a good little whore.”
I blink, and fresh tears run down my face. My head spins, and my heart races. I’m high. I’ve smoked weed before, and it didn’t feel this good. I’m giddy, like a schoolgirl who has a crush. I’m ready to beg him to give me another one. Saint can tie me up and play with me for hours if he wants.
Leaning in, he kisses my forehead tenderly and picks me up off his thigh. He places me on my shaking legs. Turning me away from him, he undoes the cuffs, removing them from around my wrists.
I let out a sigh of disappointment when my hands are free, and he places his on my back. “Bend over,” he orders.
I drop my head and place my hands on the cushion of the couch, my already heavy breathing going erratic, scared and excited to see what he’ll do to me next. My thighs clench while I stand on shaky legs.
“Don’t move,” he orders, and out of the corner of my eye, I watch him walk over to my desk. He picks up something and then comes to stand behind me once more. He places a hand on my back, and I frown when it feels like he’s drawing on me.
“Saint—?”
He slaps my ass. “You’re mine now, Ash. That means I can do whatever the fuck I want. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I say breathlessly when his hand drops to my left thigh before going to my right. When he finishes doing whatever the hell he’s doing, he grabs my hair and yanks me to stand. My lips part, and I gasp as he spins me around. His free hand goes to my neck once more.
Fuck, I knew he’d be this way, and I’m already drooling for him to tie me up and play with me again.
“Say it,” he demands.
My heavy eyes search his. “I’m yours.” I know exactly what he wants to hear, and I’m more than willing to do whatever it takes.
“Goddamn right, you’re mine, Ashtyn.” He steps into me, his hand around my throat forcing my head back to stare up at him. “And from here on out, no one sees your body unless I want them to. Do you understand?”
I nod, sucking in a deep breath. “I understand.” I want him to show me off. Be proud of me.
Letting go of my throat, he runs his knuckles down my heaving chest and over my breast. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” With that, he exits my room like I didn’t just ride his thigh like the needy slut that I am.
I fall onto the couch, staring at the now closed door, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. My mother was right. Sex makes you feel things. I’ve always been in love with Saint, but after what I just felt…I realize I’d crawl across the floor and ride his shoe while vowing to be his “good girl” to have that feeling again. It wouldn’t matter who the fuck wanted to watch me.
