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.
Saint snorts, and I cross my arms over my chest.
I rub my sweaty hands down my bare thighs, and I readjust myself in the seat. The flight attendant returns with our bottle and pours us both glasses. I greedily take a sip, trying to calm my nerves. I feel like this is a setup of some kind.
Saint hasn’t even let me leave my room in days, and all of a sudden, he’s got me going to an art show with them? I’m horny, not stupid.
I sit silently beside him while he does the same as Haidyn and goes through his phone. At some point, Kashton joins us. He sits down next to Haidyn on the couch, and they hold a quiet conversation. I look out the window, trying to figure out where we’re going, but it’s too cloudy to see anything. Not like I’d know anyway. I’m not an expert at landmarks.
I jump when Saint taps my leg. “Come on,” he orders, standing up from his seat.
“What—?”
He takes my drink from my hand and places it on the table. Then he undoes my seat belt and pulls me up by my hand and drags me down the aisle.
Coming to a stop at the door that Kashton had entered earlier, he ushers me inside and shuts it behind us. “Strip,” he commands.
My wide eyes look up at him, waiting for him to say more, but when he just stares at me, I reach down and grab the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. Then I remove my bra, undo my shorts, and shove them down my legs along with my thong. I kick off my shoes and stand before him naked.
If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you come later.
I need that. So I’ll do whatever he wants me to do right now.
“Turn around.”
I give him my back and place my hands behind me, expecting him to tie me up in some way, but his dark laughter makes me question what the fuck I’m supposed to do.
He walks over to the bed and opens a box. Removing something, he says. “Hold your arms straight out.”
Like a zombie, I lift my arms out in front of me, and he slides both of my arms into what looks like bra straps. He pulls it up to my chest and moves to stand behind me. Once they cover my breasts, I hiss in a breath, my shoulders instinctively rounding in at the sting on my chest. “What the—”
“This bra is made especially for you.” He interrupts me as I feel him fasten it. “It’s got spikes on the inside that will dig into your breasts.” Grabbing my shaking shoulders, he spins me around to face him. “Don’t worry, they’re not going to pierce your skin or anything, but they will poke you.”
I whimper as my nipples harden, and the spikes dig into my sensitive skin. “Oh God.” I reach up to adjust it, but he grabs my hands and holds them down to my side.
“No touching,” he warns, and I want to scream in frustration.
Letting go of my wrists, he cups my face, and I lean into it. His thumb runs over my lips, and my tongue darts out. He takes the hint and pushes it into my mouth, and I suck on it.
My body craves to suck on him. My training is working. I feel him empty when he’s not inside of me. He pulls it free from my lips, and I inhale sharply. “Saint?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?” He gives me a proud smile.
“Kiss me.” I lean into him, his hard chest pressing my spiked bra into mine, and wetness pools between my naked legs.
The smile drops off his face, and his cold green eyes meet mine. “You don’t kiss a whore, Ashtyn.”
My stomach drops at his words, but they also make me mad. He made me this way. Yes, I wanted to be his slut before I even knew I’d belong to him, but he made me want more. His friends. Did he expect me to never have sex again? How is that fair? How many women has he fucked since I left? I’m sure the number is high.
I slap him across the face.
He wraps his hand around my neck, shoving me backward onto the bed. He straddles me, pinning me down. His hand tightens, taking away my breath, and he lowers his face inches from mine. “You know what you do to a whore, Ash? You strip her naked, put a collar on her, and parade her around for all his friends to see.”
I try to push him off me, but it doesn’t do me any good. Instead, it just makes the spikes dig more into my chest, and it has my hips lifting to grind into him.
“You put her on display, let everyone see how much she begs for it. Then you fuck her ass to remind her who the fuck she belongs to.” His eyes search my watery ones, and my hands grip his wrist that is wrapped around my neck. It digs the collar into my already sensitive skin. “That’s what you do to a whore, sweetheart.” Letting go, he gets up off me, and I roll onto my side, coughing and sucking in a deep breath.
“Fuck…you…Saint.” I manage to get out through gasps.
His laughter fills the small room, and my hands fist the white comforter, messing up the bed. Grabbing my hair, he yanks me to stand, and I cry out. “Now, let’s finish getting you ready for the show.”
SAINT
We step off 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 that she wouldn’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.
