Page 91 of Lucky's Trouble

The hint of mint on his breath invades my nostrils, and I shove at his chest, needing him off me. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t process what he’s telling me. The whole time I was living with Lucky, falling in love, thinking I had the rest of my life ahead of me, and it was all pretend. My life had already been purchased by another man.

He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, halting my attack. “I wasn’t happy about sharing you with that biker. It was obvious he was fond of you, and I knew you’d eventually succumb. It made me sick to think about you smiling for him, living with him, fucking him,” he grits out like the last part is painful. “But look who’s on top of you now.”

“Let me go,” I say, desperately trying to get away.

“Never. I’ll never let you go.” He releases me, tossing his hair back as he climbs off the bed. “Not until I’m done with you.”

I want to ask him to clarify because how long will it be until he’s done with me? And what will happen when that time comes? Will he send me home? Kill me? I can’t bring myself to ask because I’m not sure I want to know.

Walking over to the other young women, he selects one and takes her leash. She crawls on hands and knees, a foot behind him, over to the giant wooden X.

“Stand, Pet.”

She stands in front of the X, feet hip-width apart, hands clasped behind her back, gaze lowered. It’s not a casual position, leaving me to believe it’s a position she’s been taught.

“I heard you were disobedient today. You talked back when you were told your shower time was over. Is that true?” he asks calmly, undoing the clasps behind her neck and at her back. He continues on to the ones at her hips, and the strappy outfit falls to the ground.

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.” Her small voice nearly breaks my heart.

“You will be.” He smirks and meticulously secures her wrists and ankles in the cuffs attached to the wooden structure. Walking over to the cabinet of torture devices, he reaches for a whip that’s split at the end, looking like a snake’s tongue. “Twenty-five should do it.”

The whip whirs through the air until it lands on one of her small breasts. I suck in a sharp breath, but she barely reacts.

“One. Thank you, Sir.”

He repositions himself and whips her again, this time across her other breast. Angry red lines appear almost immediately, but all she does is count and thank him. I draw my knees to my chest, not wanting to watch but unable to look away.

By the time she’s counted to twenty-five, her breasts, stomach, and pelvis are covered in marks. He puts the whip back and brings out something I don’t recognize. Being so tall and broad, I can’t tell what he’s doing with it as he stands in front of her. That is, until he steps to the side to release her wrists and ankles. The woman has two metal claws holding the sides of her mouth open, secured by a leather strap around her head.

What the hell? It occurs to me what it’s for, and I cover my horrified gasp with my hand. I’m proven right when she drops to her knees the second she’s released and goes right for his belt, eager to pull him out.

He slaps her across the face so hard it echoes in the room. “Nuh-uh. You didn’t ask for Sir’s cock.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. May I please take your cock out?” The words are garbled and nearly unintelligible.

“You may.”

With deft fingers, she unbuttons his pants and pushes them over his hips. His cock juts straight out, dangling in front of the woman who seems to be salivating for it.

“Will you please fuck my face, Sir?”

This is the most insane and disturbing thing I’ve ever seen. Maybe in another world, it’d be hot, but knowing these women have been bought and paid for, ripped from their lives, and so brainwashed that they think they want this just makes it sad. It could be an act, but I’ve never seen acting this good.

“I’d enjoy that very much, Pet, but could you move so your back is to our guest? I think I’d like to watch her expression as you pleasure me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

For the next four hours, I watch as Sir uses and abuses the four women, all while they beg for more. The whole time, he makes sure I’m watching, getting off on making me uncomfortable. If he thought his performance would intrigue me, he was wrong because each minute that ticks by only gives me more reasons to get the hell out of here.

By the time a guard delivers me back to the empty room with bars, I feel broken inside. I’m staring at a future I don’t want, all while grieving the loss of one I thought I might have had.

The only conclusion I come to is that I’d rather die than become one of the women he’s tricked into thinking they want to be here.

After being allowed a shower and a simple dinner of baked chicken and vegetables, I collapse into my bed. I lie on the gross, smelly mattress, eyes closed and picturing Lucky. Is he looking for me? Is he taking care of Myla? Is he thinking of me right now? Tears spill down my cheeks, and I fall asleep crying, wishing I was still with him, safely tucked away in his big arms.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

LUCKY

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