Page 154 of The Pact

His head and shoulders drop as his body relaxes. Damian pulls out and sits on the bed next to me. Despite the aching in my wrists at any movement, I adjust to lie flat on my back. I watch as he reaches somewhere near the foot of the bed. Then I see the glint of metal in his hand.

He shifts to lie on his side, one hand holding the knife while the other dips between my legs.

“Damian...” I try to squirm away and push my legs together, unsure of what he’s trying to do. I’m too sensitive to take another round of orgasms.

“Open up for me,” he orders, his voice gravelly. I whimper in response, although I don’t fight him.

He pushes my legs open, sticking his fingers inside of me. My head falls back and my whole body tenses. But he pulls them out quickly and I see that he’s coated with our come.

Damian holds up the blade and drags the two fingers over it.

“Stick out your tongue, princess.” My head jerks back in resistance. “Now.”

Reluctantly, I open my mouth and push out my tongue. He angles the knife, running the flat part over it, forcing me to clean it off. Taking my chin in his fingers, he pushes my mouth closed and I swallow, although the bitter saltiness lingers.

Leaning over, he kisses me. Damian forces his tongue inside and sweeps the entirety of my mouth. “Fuck. We taste so good together.”

52

THEA

I’m a changed woman. I stare at myself in the mirror and I might look the same, mostly, but there are subtle changes I can see.

My shoulders are pushed back and I hold my head a little higher these days. A new level of confidence has settled over me. My skin glows and there’s a permanent sparkle in my eyes. Well, maybe that’s taking it too far, although I feel better than I have in years.

Then, there are the not-so-subtle things.

I glance down at my wrists. The red imprints have faded since last week. However, my skin was rubbed raw in a couple of areas and I’m still healing. Damian was pissed when he untied me—at himself, of course. He chastised himself for being impatient and for not using his own higher quality ropes.

We had a long talk about whether I liked what we did and when I told him I did, he explained that there were rules we’d need to follow next time—for safety reasons.

I’m finally able to sit down after both the paddle and Damian’s hand. While the lingering pain is uncomfortable, there’s also another feeling I can’t quite pinpoint. Every lovely ache is a reminder of our first time together.

Then there are the marks from Wes—bruises from him gripping my thighs, scratches down my back, and bite marks on my shoulders, legs, breasts, and ass. These little imprints of our adventures bring me a strange kind of joy.

A year ago, hell, a few months ago, I would have felt ashamed of the life I’m living now. Until a few days ago, I was questioning my sanity at the things I’ve found myself craving.

I’m fucking four hot men and my body is marked up in ways that would make most people blush. Technically, I’m also a kept woman. During these last two months, I haven’t paid for very much. My only contribution is my body. I should feel dirty, but I can’t muster it.

I feel liberated.

Maybe that’s why when my mom texted me early this morning, I didn’t hesitate to let her know exactly how I feel.

Mother: Theadora Noelle Griffin. I haven’t heard from you in weeks. Call me. - Mom

Me: Yes, you’re right. I haven’t spoken to you in weeks because the last time you reached out, you asked about Gavin. My ex, who cheated and put his hands on me. I have no interest in talking to you since my wellbeing isn’t a concern of yours.

I thought I’d regret sending it after a few minutes, yet the more I think about it, the more I wish I’d done it sooner. So far, no reply. And I’m fine with that.

Clipping my hair up messily, I spritz the new perfume Damian bought me over my skin, then head upstairs.

Cole and Sutton are standing around the island, discussing something important by the looks on their faces. Cole scribbles on a piece of paper as he shakes his head.

“Good morning.” Their heads turn in my direction simultaneously. I get a different look from each of them.

Sutton is all seduction as he licks his lips, giving me a glimpse of those tongue piercings. Cole gazes at me sweetly, like he wants to sweep me up in a hug.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Sutton calls out. He rakes his gaze up my bare legs, up to my black biker shorts and over my matching sports bra. His eyes linger on my chest. As respectful as Sutton is, he’s still a man and the desire in his eyes right now makes me want to drag him down to my room. “Do you know how good you look in all black?”

---