Pushing off the wall, I try to calm my breathing as I look down at my dick. There’s not any blood that I can see. But I’ve fucked enough women before college to know that not all of them bleed. I figured the odds of her doing so were small. When I dropped her off at her apartment after the party, I went through her drawers and found all the toys that I’m guessing she uses on herself. Anything like that could have stretched her hymen over the years. Plus, she didn’t bleed when I finger-fucked her. Shoving my dick into my jeans, I zip them up.
Crouching down to her level, I reach out and run my finger through the cum that’s smeared across her cheek. “Tongue out,” I order.
She swallows before parting her lips and doing so. “Good girl,” I praise her, and she whimpers, her body shaking. Running my finger across her tongue, I clean it off. Then I run three fingers along her chin, picking up more, and stick them into her mouth, pressing them to the back of her throat and forcing her head back. She gags, eyes blinking with fresh tears, but she doesn’t try to pull her head away. “Close.”
Her lips close around my fingers the best she can, and her tongue wraps around them, making me groan when she sucks, wanting it to be my cock inside of her mouth again. When done right, a mouth can feel better than a pussy. Slowly, I pull them out, letting her lick them clean once again.
Satisfied with her obedience, especially with her lack of experience, I stand and reach into my back pocket, pulling out the handcuff key.
She drops her head and lets out a soft sob knowing she’s being freed from the unforgiving metal binding her wrists. I walk behind her and grip her upper arm, pulling her to stand. She cries out and stumbles forward in her heels, but I hold her. I inspect her wrists and hands before I undo them. There’s a little bit of blood running down her hands from them cutting into her skin, and they’re blue from lack of circulation.
This is her doing.
I had asked her if they were too tight in front of the Lords. It was for show. When she said yes, I couldn’t show any weakness, so I tightened them. But in all honesty, it was setting her up to fail. If she had said no, I would have tightened them too.
The ritual is crystal clear on how we treat our chosen during the vow ceremony. Whatever I do with her behind closed doors is a different story. But I won’t go soft on her. That’s not who I am.
I was trained by a fellow Lord, and Ty taught me what was expected. We are training these women for a higher power. Even I can’t save her from her future. All I can do is prepare her.
She will know hell, but for now, I shall be her devil.
I undo the cuffs, and she lets out a soft cry before pulling her hands around to the front. I yank her dress back down into place and bend down, picking up her underwear before sticking it into my pocket. “Let’s go,” I say and grab her arm, leading her around the building and to her car parked out front.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BLAKELY
HE PUTS ME in my passenger seat and gets in the driver’s seat. I had left my keys in the car, along with my purse and phone; he starts it up and drives us away from the building. I was in the middle of nowhere, so I wasn’t worried about anyone taking anything.
I stay silent, rubbing my hands together. They tingle as the feeling finally returns to my fingers. My wrists are raw and bloody. I still have cum on my face, my hair, and on my chest. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to wipe it off. I’m freezing cold, sitting in my wet dress, and my underwear are in his pocket. My thighs burn, and my pussy is sore. It wasn’t nearly as painful as I thought it was going to be, and it makes me wonder even more if I’ve already had sex with him. After everything that has happened since classes started, I don’t regret my decision to live my life how I want.
Yeah, some would argue that my agreeing to be his chosen one strips away any say I have over my body, but I see it differently. I see freedom in knowing that I belong to him. Someone who physically wants me. A person can only handle so much rejection before they start to question why? What is wrong with me?
“Where are we going?” I whisper, biting my bottom lip nervously, wondering what now.
He looks over at me for a quick second before placing his eyes back on the road. “House of Lords,” he answers before “I Don’t Give A …” by MISSIO and Zeala begins to fill the car.
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WE PULL INTO the gate of the hotel, and he parks my car before opening my door for me.
Entering the place, it’s odd being here without it crowded with people. No flashing lights or blaring music. Just silence. “Everyone is still at the vow ceremony,” he states, knowing what I’m thinking.