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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“Stay with me tonight.” I press mine to hers, but she keeps hers closed, not letting me in. My hands drop to the hem of her dress and slide it up her legs.

She pulls her face back from mine. “I made plans—”

I cut her off, kissing her, this time forcing my tongue into her mouth, and I almost smile at the taste of vodka on her breath. I’ve been on the fence about her being pregnant, but this confirms my suspicion. I do believe she’s trying to get knocked up, though. The question is why?

Gripping the material, I pull it over her head, forcing me to break our kiss. Tossing the useless dress to the side, I look over her standing in front of me with only a nude-colored thong and heels. Her nipples are hard, and her breathing is erratic.

“Let me spend all night telling you I’m sorry,” I offer, my hands going back to her hips. I lift her off her heels, tossing her onto the bed.

She smiles, looking up at me, and I know she won’t be leaving here until morning. I’m going to tie her little, lying ass to my bed, and I’m going to fuck her mouth and her ass. But not her cunt. I’ve got a plan for that, and she’s going to be very disappointed.

My cell ringing pulls me out of that memory and I see it’s Colton. “Yeah?” I answer.

“We’re about to pull up,” he states.

“I’ll meet you down there.” I hang up and pocket my cell. As I go to leave my office, I take one last look at the TV hanging on the wall and see my wife serving tables. My eyes go to Collin and he’s leaning on the back two legs of his chair, his eyes on her ass as he watches her do her job.

LAIKYN

I’m so fucking pissed my heart is still racing. But I’m not even sure what I’m mad about. The fact I didn’t know that my sister and Tyson were engaged? Or the fact that Collin and his friends made fun of me about my marriage to Tyson? I didn’t choose this life. I sure as fuck would have never chosen Tyson as my husband.

I’m also not one of those girls who believe you marry for love.

That rarely happens in our world. Now I’m not saying that Lords and Ladies don’t end up falling in love with one another after they’ve been married. But I’ve seen too many marriages where they still hate one another when their kids are forced to marry someone they don’t want.

I guess I hate myself the most. That fact that I always dreamed of a different life. A special kind of love. That’s for fools.

The club closed an hour ago, and we’re all cleaning up. Thankfully, Bethany has ignored me tonight. The club was packed, and we’ve all been busy with our sections. Plus, there was a fight that broke out in VIP. Security threw three guys out and the girl they came with.

I put my tray of glasses up on the bar and look over at the round booth in the corner. It’s where Tyson always sits while we clean. But he’s not there tonight. I haven’t seen him since I stormed into his office and demanded answers that he, of course, didn’t give. I guess his silence was my answer.

“Have a good night, Lake,” Beau calls out.

I wave at him, knowing that my night will, in fact, not be good. I’ve had a plug in my ass for six hours—is that even healthy—and I’m about to get fucked by my husband, who I insulted by saying his dick was small. Which was, of course, a lie. It’s not small by any means. I know Tyson well enough now to know that he’ll make it as painful as possible. Margaret bled the first time she did it. I’m guessing that will be my experience too.

Making my way to the elevator, I shake my hands and take in a deep calming breath. It doesn’t work as it climbs higher. I take it to the fourth floor and enter our apartment. It’s quiet, the lights off. I walk down the hallway to the bedroom with my heart in my throat.

Pushing the door open, I see the light is on, and he’s already in here, standing by the long dresser with his back to me. “Get undressed,” he commands without even looking up at me in the mirror.

His words instantly piss me off all over again. “I’m going to shower.” And I’m pulling this damn plug out whether he likes it or not.

He turns to face me, and he has pieces of rope fisted in his hands, so long they puddle at his feet. He tosses them onto the bed. My heart picks up, but I square my shoulders, refusing to let him think I’m intimidated. No matter how much I am.


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