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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Margaret’s father was a Lord, and she was already promised to marry another Lord. He was nine years older than her. They were to get married on her twentieth birthday. One of her requirements was to be a virgin for him. So at fifteen, she started having anal.

I remember her telling me about how painful her first time was, but she expected it to be. So she did it again. And again. She ended up loving it. She told me that she had to prep herself each time. Otherwise, it would have been messy.

The moment Tyson said preparation, I knew exactly what he meant. I knew this time would come. When he’d claim other parts of me.

He was right. I held in whatever he put inside me as long as I could. I’m not sure if it was ten minutes or not, I didn’t time it. But I then poured myself a bath where I cried from embarrassment. It’s humiliating. To have a guy—your husband—tie your hands behind your back and give you an enema so he can fuck your ass. Tyson told me to shower, but I didn’t want to ruin my hair. It had been dyed and fixed at the salon earlier today, and it looked too pretty to mess up, so I put it up in a big clip and took a bath. I had to get out twice to use the restroom.

I had cramping, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

I finish getting dressed and go down to his office. I’m more nervous now then I was after our wedding. I’m sweating. Rubbing my hands on my shorts. I was planning on asking him what Ryat meant but after I saw what he had planned for me, I decided against it. Now wasn’t the time. Plus, if I say something to Tyson, he may tell Ryat and then Ryat can order Blake not to see me. I’m not sure about their marriage. I don’t want to chance Ryat forcing her to stay away from me.

I open Tyson’s office door and come to an abrupt stop. He’s sitting at his desk, his eyes down while signing a piece of paper, and Bethany is leaning over it, her tits in his face. Her hands on the surface.

The moment she hears someone enter, she turns around and her eyes meet mine. A cruel smile instantly spreads across her face. “Well, well, well. Trying to look like Whitney?” she asks.

“Get the fuck out of my office, Beth.” Tyson dismisses her. He doesn’t sound mad or irritated. Just bored.

Her words make my heart race faster. My sister had dark hair and it’s exactly why my father made me bleach mine. Why can’t I want to be me, without trying to be my sister? Why do I have to change my appearance? I always had dark hair too.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” she tells him over her shoulder before she exits, shutting the door behind her.

I look at him. He sits there staring at me, but his blue eyes give nothing away. It drives me nuts that I can’t guess what he’s thinking. Was she in here to fuck him? Did he call her up here because he wanted to see her? He knew I was coming to his office; did he want me to catch her in here? Another way to remind me that he can do whatever he wants.

“Stop,” he commands, and I jump at the sound of his voice.

I square my shoulders. I hate that he can read my face. That my mind screams so loud that he can hear it.

“Come here,” he orders.

I walk over to him, my heart still racing, but now for a different reason. Anger. Jealousy. I’m not stupid. Tyson Crawford could have any woman he wants. I’m sure women have dropped to their knees for him without him having to say a single word. Or let him fuck their ass. I watched my sister let him have his way with her—however he wanted it. I heard the stories she’d tell her friends when she called them after he left our house. Or after she’d come home from spending a weekend with him at the house of Lords. I was jealous then too. Of her. Of what he did to her.

It's been two days since he’s even spoken to me. Does that mean he’s gone to Bethany to fuck? If not, then someone else? Who knows how many women he’s been with since he was dating my sister. I’m sure he’s fucked more than half the female staff here at Blackout.

He picked me. I’m his wife. He’s my husband. A man like Tyson needs a woman. A slut. His own personal whore. I’m determined to be that. I want him to see Bethany and think of me. I want her to throw herself at him and him turn her down because he knows that I can give him what he needs. Because I know for a fact Bethany isn’t going to stop. My father is controlling her. But Tyson—he can control me, and I can control him.


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