Page 101 of Sacred Vow
I suck in a breath and lean into his soft touch as he fixes a padded cuff around my wrist, sending a wave of excitement crashing through me. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting tonight, but being cuffed certainly wasn’t it. I don’t hate it, though. I suppose it all comes down to what he intends to do with me once he’s got me where he wants me.
Caesar lifts my cuffed wrist to the X frame, attaching the cuff to the small restraint, keeping me bound to the frame. I glance back at him over my shoulder, watching his movement when he cuts behind the frame and takes my other wrist. I settle into the center of the frame and voluntarily hold out my other wrist, only as he fixes the cuff around it and restrains it to the other side of the massive X, he steps around me.
I follow the movements, my stomach instantly sinking as I quickly realize this person isn’t nearly tall enough to be Caesar. He’s only a little taller than me with a slim build, petite like . . . like a woman.
My heart races, and as she moves in even closer, I can make out her features perfectly.
Annie.
A smug expression crosses her face, looking at me as though she’s somehow won, but what could she have possibly won here? Her son died today, and she has me restrained to an X frame in a BDSM room. What does she think is going to happen? Is shegoing to whip me until I cry? Spank me until I stutter out some half-assed apology?
She moves right into me, gripping my chin in a tight hold. “Well, this looks familiar, doesn’t it?”
I spit at her, knowing she’s referring to the storm cellar and how they had me chained by my wrists. “Whatever you think is going to happen here, you’re wrong. Caesar is already looking for me.”
Annie scoffs and reaches for my strapless dress, gripping the small zip and dragging it right down my body until the fabric falls to the ground, leaving me in nothing but the black lace underwear I’d carefully picked out for Caesar.
“You murdered my son,” she tells me, looking over my body as though it disgusts her. “And today, you will pay for what you did.”
I laugh, kicking out at her. “Your son was a psychopath,” I tell her. “He signed his own death certificate the second he decided to fuck with me.”
Her eyes flare with rage, a crazed wildness flashing within them and showing me just how similar to her son she really is. They’re both psychotic. “Say what you want,” she says, dipping her hand into her pocket and pulling out a long piece of black material. “But either way, you get what’s coming for you.”
“What the fuck are you—” she cuts me off as she reaches up, grips my chin, and forces the black material into my mouth. I try to fight her off, yanking against my cuffed wrists as I whip my head back and forth, but she holds me tighter, and despite biting at her fingers and spitting back, she forces it in until there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. The remainder of the fabric is wrapped around my head and knotted at the nape of my neck, leaving me unable to scream.
“That’s more like it,” she says, stepping back to survey her handiwork, and all I can do is glare.
Annie laughs and goes to step away before coming up short and looking back at me with a wicked smirk. “Oh, I almost forgot the best part,” she beams, her hand digging into her pocket and producing a brown wristband, making my stomach sink as her plan reveals itself.
She steps into me, reaching up and ripping the purple wristband straight off my wrist, and as I try to fight her off, try to kick her away, she replaces it with the brown, making fear pulse through my veins. Wearing this wristband inside this club means only one thing: BDSM submissive.
Annie grips my chin once again, her sharp nails digging into my skin. “There, that’s better, don’t you think?” she laughs. “Now, let me leave you to your fun. I’m sure you’re really going to enjoy what I have in store for you.”
Then, not a moment later, she walks away, leaving me nearly naked and restrained to the X frame. As she reaches the door, she adjusts the lighting in the room, turning it up just enough so that I can see exactly what’s coming for me, and when she opens the doors and three men stride in, she grins wide.
“Have at it, boys,” she purrs. “This little wild one has a rape fetish. She wants to be thoroughly rocked and degraded with no safeword.”
The men look shocked as they stare at me, but the intrigue is there, feeding the undeniable fear that rocks through my chest, leaving me crippled.
“No safeword?” one of the men asks, glancing back at Annie as I frantically shake my head, hoping like fuck he can see through her bullshit, but apparently, when a woman shakes her head to say no, they assume that means, yeah, no safeword.
Fucking assholes.
“That’s right,” Annie confirms. “No safewords. This one likes it freaky. She has no limits, so make sure you give her exactly whatshe wants. We wouldn’t want her to leave thinking we couldn’t satisfy that wild beast within her, would we?”
Then just as she goes to step out of the room, Annie looks back at me one last time. “Do your worst,” she says, repeating the same words she’d said to her son right before he attempted to end my life.
And with that, she walks away, leaving me to endure whatever fresh hell these assholes have in store for me, completely unaware that they’re pawns in a much larger game.
31
CAESAR
Izaac walks beside me as we step out of his office, making our way toward the main bar on the VIP floor, my gaze already sweeping through the club. There’s no sign of Tilly. She should have been here at least fifteen minutes ago.
She usually likes to wait at the end of the bar, sipping her drinks as though she’s actually enjoying them, while waiting for me to find her. Only tonight, there’s no sexy little minx occupying the lonely chair at the end of the bar.
In a perfect world, I would have driven her here, but I came straight from a long day at the office, and Tilly Bardot is far too impatient to have waited for me to get home after work. She insisted that she meet me here, and to be honest, I thought she would have shown up long ago.
