Chaotic (L.O.R.D.S. #7) — Chapter no 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

EV ERETT

e played me, and I fucking let him.H Kashton knew my next move just by reading my face. I was going to knock his ass out and run for it. Get the hell away from here. To save him. In stead, he challenged me, and I lost. Fair and

square.

You’ll make the perfect dolly.

You’ll make the perfect whore. His words were like a knife to my chest. It made me angry. I had to fight. To show him that he didn’t own me. He won. I lost.

He may marry me, but I’ll be nothing more than a toy to him. I’ll never be known as a Lady in our world, and I’ll never get to be a mother in mine.

I sit on the end of my bed, gulping down a water while Kashton rushes around my house. He brought me home after he was done fuck ing my face and gave me a bath. I sat there in the tub in silence while he washed my hair and his cum off my trembling body.

Everything hurts, including my still burning nip ples and pussy lips. I al ready want him to fuck me again, and it’s giving me mixed feelings.

I’m not sure if that’s progress or re gres sion.

I didn’t feel the need to vomit afterward, so maybe progress is the correct answer.

I look over the clothespins in my hand. Who knew something so small could be so power ful? Each one has one of the vows written in his handwriting.

They appear to look like any other wooden clothespin, but the ends have been dipped in something rough to cause pain when used.

“What is on these?” I call loud enough so Kashton can hear me.

He answers from my bathroom, knowing what I’m re ferring to. “I painted Mod Podge on the tips and then dipped them in coarse-grain sand. Once they were dry, I sprayed a clear lac quer over it to help seal them.”

He made these for me? I love how much thought he puts into mak‐ ing sure I feel…something. That he keeps me present when I want to curl into myself. Kashton wants me to know that he’s the one play‐ ing with me. That I’m getting off for him.

“Ready?” He exits my bathroom, pulling my Prada embroidered fab‐ ric trolley and matching duffel bag.

“Yeah,” I an swer softly, getting to my feet.

While he was bathing me, he talked me into going back to Carnage with him. Well, I can’t say that—he told me we were going to Car‐ nage, and I didn’t have the mental strength to argue with him.

If that was his plan, it worked. All Lords are cal culated in how they play the game.

Taking my hand, he es corts me out to my garage and opens my passenger door. “You’re not following me?” I wonder.

“No. Leaving my bike in my garage. I’ll come get it another time.”

I fall into the car while he places my bags in the trunk before get‐ ting behind the wheel.

I look out my window. It’s still daylight. The clock tells me it’s a little after four p.m. How long were we in his basement? How many times

did I come all over myself?

I can’t answer either question.

He reaches over, and my fin gers automat ically curl into his, hold ing his hand. It’s terrifying how good it feels to be wanted by some one you know will desert you when they find out who you truly are.

“How do you feel?” he asks, interrupting my internal rambling. He

al ways knows when my mind slips away.

“Fine,” I answer.

“Eve.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Talk to me.”

Laying my head against the headrest, I give him a re as suring smile.

“Re ally. Just tired.” The sedative still lingers in my system.

“When we get home, I’ll have Jessie bring us some lunch and have Devin give you an IV. Afterward, we’ll take a nap. How’s that sound?”

Is he going to tie me up and make me wait to be played with while we nap? Fuck, I hope so. “Sounds good.”