The Sacrifice Read Online Shantel Tessier

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
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He starts rubbing them, and I can’t stop the sobs. My chest heaving.

I’m so embarrassed. He made me come. Again. It hurt and also felt good. I don’t know why or how he makes me like things that I know I shouldn’t.

Rolling me over onto my stomach, he unties my wrists and picks me up off the bed. I lie lifeless in his arms, burying my face into his bare chest, not giving a fuck that his cum is smeared all over it. At this point, nothing matters.

I stay cradled in his arms while he sits on the edge of the tub and turns it on. Closing my eyes, I just want to sleep. I’m not sure I can even bathe myself at this point.

He steps into the bathtub, lowering us both to sit in the same position we were at the house after the house of Lords party. I’m thankful I don’t have to face him.

“Lake, little darling.” He pulls my hair off my chest to rest over my other shoulder.

A sob racks my body.

“You’re okay.” He wraps his arms around my chest, pulling my back into his. I bring my hands up and grab his skin, trying to calm myself down. “You did so good, Lake. So good.” He kisses the side of my head and I sniff while the water fills the large tub.

The fact that he just fucked my ass isn’t what upsets me. It’s just the fact that I feel overwhelmed. The truth is I loved it. I hated that I was sucking on the ball inside my mouth, loving how full it made me feel. Thankfully, he couldn’t hear me beg him for more. Or the way I lifted my ass the best I could so he could get deeper. Or that I loved my hands were tied behind my back. A woman shouldn’t enjoy such things.

He told me I’d be sorry for letting another man touch me, but I’m not. Because it was a punishment and I enjoyed it.

My family was right—I’m a disappointment. A sick whore that enjoys whatever her husband wants to do to her.

We sit in the bath until the water is cold, but my cries have subsided. Now I’m exhausted. The aftermath hits me like a train. I can feel my body shutting down on me, needing some rest.

He gently washes me clean and then helps me out. My legs shake so bad I can barely stand. So after he dries me off, he picks me up and places me in our bed under the comforter. I curl up into a ball away from him, still too embarrassed, and close my eyes.

He shifts behind me, and then his strong arm wraps around me from behind, pulling me into him. I wish I had the strength to push him off, but I don’t. So instead, I allow him to hold me like he cares, and fresh tears sting my eyes as a sob escapes my trembling lips.

He pulls away from me, and I let him go, unable to hold onto him. I feel cold all of a sudden, but then his hands are on me, and he’s pulling my shoulder, forcing me to roll toward him. “No—” I choke out, trying to push him away, not wanting to have to face him, but he doesn’t stop.

“Come here, little darling. Let me hold you,” he says softly. Pulling my front into his, he wraps his arm around me once again, and I bury my face into his chest. He kisses my forehead. “You’re okay, Lake. I’ve got you.”

I cling to him, hating that the very man who forced me to marry him is the same man who makes me feel safe. I’m not sure why he’s being so nice. Tyson isn’t the kind of guy I’d expect to cuddle after he uses you. But I don’t push him away. Instead, I cling to him, loving the sense of security no matter how fake it is.

When you’ve been starving for affection all your life, you’ll accept the least amount of effort given and turn it into something it isn’t. Tyson is that man for me. He’s what I wish I always had even though I know it’s what I’ll never find.

THIRTY-NINE

TYSON

Three years ago

Ryat and I are sitting in my car in the house of Lords parking lot about to get out when my cell rings. Whitney lights up my screen. “Hello?” I answer.

“Hey,” she responds, sounding breathless.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Can you meet me?” she asks. Before I can answer, she goes on, “Someone has been following me all day.”

I sit up straighter. “What do you mean all day?” A look at the clock says it’s after six p.m. “Why are you just now calling me?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. But…”


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