Page 53 of Endgame

Page List

Font Size:

The locks of my long brown hair fall smoothly down the front of my body. They curl at the ends. He’s turning me into some kind of actual princess.

We’re almost done. After this, I’m sure he’ll be back to his asshole self.

This is my last chance to reach out to the human side of him. “Everett.”

“Shut up.” He carefully wraps the final lock around the brush.

“Did I ever offend you or something?” I hate apologizing for shit I didn’t do.

It feels necessary now. It feels like a way to his heart.

“I said.” With an arm around my waist, he guides me out of the bathroom. “Shut. Up.”

Quickly, before I can catch my breath, we get to his bed. There, a white thong, a white lace corset, and a white gown wait for me.

My wedding outfit.

Next to them is my collar, a brand-new-looking butt plug…

And lube.

A whimper escapes me.

Everett groans at that, bending me over by my hips and kicking my knees apart.

“Hands on the bed.” His tone broaches no argument. Shamefully, it sends heat down my body.

As I lean on the bed, I pray he won’t notice it, knowing he will.

“You’re learning.” Cold liquid lands on my crack. Fear sends me up on my tiptoes. “Heels on the floor.”

“I’m not your dog,” I repeat. “You can’t order me like one and expect me to heed.”

“But you will be my wife.” Everett isn’t gentle when he nudges his finger into my forbidden hole. When he drags it inand out of me. It doesn’t hurt like I thought it would, after being stretched for hours. “You’ll either obey, or be punished. It’s that simple.”

“Please.” The stretch becomes pleasurable, and no. I don’t want it to be. “Please. I’m sorry if I offended you. It hurts.” Hurts to feel this good at the hands of a monster. “I don’t like it, Everett.”

“Liar. You’re dripping.” He slides a finger over my inner thigh. Keeps finger-fucking my ass. “You’re so fucking wet that I smell you, Aurora.”

Tears line my eyes. I won’t let him see them. I won’t look back at his evil face and search for an ounce of kindness in it.

Why bother? There’s none. Any trace of compassion was lost when he stopped working on my hair.

Everett leans over to where the butt plug is. I’m quick to blink the tears away.

“Got nothing to say?” His mouth is close to my ear. His low voice is unbearably sexy.

“I do.” Nervousness has me brushing a lock of hair off my face.

The head of the butt plug nudges at my entrance.

Everett grips my hip, standing firm behind me.

I stare at our reflection, at his new emotions flashing in his eyes.

Desire. Ache.

Lies. He’s manipulating me. He doesn’t feel a thing, just like my parents.