Page 13 of Dirty Little Saint

As if he can read my mind, the nightmare begins again.

Holden motions for them to stop wiping me. He paces in circles around me, appearing as if he’s deep in thought. “You took something from us, Miss Blackwell. Rather, someone, I should say. If you weren’t under Riot’s protection, you’d already be dead.”

Fuck.

“It was self-defense—”

“Quiet!” Holden slaps me across the face so hard I lose my breath. “I don’t want to hear traitorous things about my son. I can’t kill you, but I will dole out a punishment.”

I fight back the tears, but it’s getting harder not to fall apart. “What are you going to do to me?”

He chuckles. “It’s what all of us are going to do to you. For my son, for their fallen brother… One lashing from each of us. They get to choose your ass or your cunt. You think you can handle thirty-five lashings, Miss Blackwell?”

The tears stream down my cheeks. “Please…”

He swipes his thumb across my wet cheek. “The best part is that I get to watch you cum again.”

“What? Are you crazy? You think I’m going to get off on this?”

He sucks my tear off his thumb. “Oh, that sigil I gave you will make sure of it. You’re going to beg for each and every lashing.”

My face burns with humiliation. I want this to be over so fucking bad. But he just keeps making up new rules as we go along. I’m at the mercy of a madman.

“Get on your knees, temptress.” As I turn over and shift to my knees, he pushes me down hard. I catch myself with my palms just before my face smashes against the cement.

I’m on all fours, shivering as I wait for whatever happens next. I cringe as I hear him slide his belt out of his pants. He drags the end of it down the length of my back before letting it rest on my ass.

“Widen your stance.” He watches my every move as I spread my legs farther apart. “Yes, like that. Angle your ass up and get down on your forearms. Press your face against the ground.”

The cold cement touches my cheek first and then grazes my nipples as I lower myself down to the position he demands of me. I take deep breaths, readying myself for the world of pain this maniac is about to bestow upon me.

“I will inflict the first lashing and the last. For my son,” he growls. And I’m not entirely sure which son he’s referring to at this point. For killing Zeke or claiming Riot.

Without warning, I feel the woosh of air before the belt snaps down on my ass.

“Fuck,” I cry out. It stings and prickles.

He ignores my cry. “Next.”

The first initiate steps out of the circle and stalks toward me. Holden hands him the belt, and he cracks it down just as hard, wielding it with the same undercurrent of anger. My knees are already starting to throb as I try to hold myself up.

After three more initiates inflict their lashes, I am almost positive that I’m swollen. I’m shaking all over. Only thirty more to go.

“I think she could use a few on the other side, don’t you think?” It’s a rhetorical question posed to a group of psychos who will always agree with him. “Get on your back, temptress.”

I whimper in pain as I lie back on the cold ground. While I’m grateful to give my knees a break, it hurts to put weight on my ass. “Please… show mercy.”

He snarls down at me. “I’m getting really tired of having to tell you to open your fucking legs.”

This man fucking hates me.

I spread my thighs apart as far as they’ll go.

He smirks and hands the belt to another initiate. “Now, this is where we’ll get to see her unravel.”

The initiate towers over me, readying himself. I can almost feel the sick pleasure twisting in his gut. He drags the tip of the belt down my slit. I don’t look away.

“That’s it. Do it for Zeke,” Holden coos.

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