The Sacrifice: A Dark Revenge Romance

I sit back in the corner booth inside of Blackout, reviewing paperwork while my staff picks up after closing. Every man who works for me is training to be a Lord.

The lower part of the totem pole, but a Lord nonetheless. Unless you’re like Ryat, Sin—another Lord I’m close with—or myself, high up in rankings, you have to provide a service as you go through your initiations while attending Barrington University. When I took on Blackout, the Lords came to me and asked if I could employ some while they go through initiations. I didn’t see why not. They saved me the trouble of going through the hiring process.

I look up to see Lake sitting at the bar, her back to me. “Come here,” I call out, not even bothering to use her name. She knows I’m referring to her.

Her back stiffens, but she makes no move to acknowledge me.

I pick up my cell off the table to turn on her collar but stop myself. Instead, I sit back in the booth and cross my arms over my chest. I watched her all night on the cameras, and she did better than I thought she would. “I’m going to give you to the count of five to crawl your ass over to me.”

That does it.

Her head whips around, her hair slapping her in the face in the process. She jumps to her feet, glaring at me. “I’m not fucking crawling anywhere in this place. That’s disgusting.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

As if she’d crawl anywhere else. “One.”

She huffs, her large tits rising with the action, and then places her hands on her narrow hips. My eyes drop between her legs, and I wonder if her underwear is as soaked with my cum as her leotard is from the beer that got spilled.

“Two.”

“I’m not fucking doing it, Tyson,” she snaps, her voice ringing out through the silent club.

“Three.”

“Fuck you.” She turns her back on me to storm off and up to the apartment, but she runs face-first into one of my bartenders, Walter. Everyone is aware she’s my wife. I sent out an email before we opened this evening. It wasn’t for her to get special treatment, but to see if they picked on her more. Some chose to ignore her. Others chose to show her just how much they don’t want her here, and I will say she handled it better than I expected.

“When your husband gives you an order, you follow it,” he tells her.

“Fuck you, Walter.” She slams her hands into his chest and shoves him out of the way, but instead, he grabs her hair and yanks her toward me while she screams, trying to untangle herself from him.

My skin instantly begins to burn. My teeth clench, seeing his hands on her. I shift in the booth but stop myself from getting up. I wait to see what she does. How far will she allow him to go? Just how much fight does she have in her?

Finally, she manages to slam her hand into his face but not before he pushes her to the floor. “Don’t fucking touch me, you piece of shit!” she screams at him, shoving her now tangled hair out of her face.

“Four.” I keep counting, my eyes on her while my hands are fisted on the table.

Her narrowed eyes are on mine while she’s gasping for breath.

“You’re already on the floor.” I add to her already pissed-off attitude. “Crawl to me.”

Walter reaches down for her again, and she scrambles away from him. Pressing her back into the side of the bar, she knocks over a barstool in the process.

Everyone just stands around watching the exchange. I look over at Beau—another bartender—and arch a brow. He wants my wife. I also watched the way he looked at her tonight on the cameras. I’ve noticed the way all the men who work for me looked at her. I understand that they are all horny boys who haven’t had sex in years, but I still don’t like how they look at what’s mine. As if they think they’d have a chance with her. That I might be nice enough to strip her naked and tie her down to the bar for all to sample. Offer her up as a bonus. Over my dead body.

Beau throws his hands up. “Respectfully, sir. She’s your problem. Not mine.”

I smile and get up from the booth. She huffs, getting to her feet, and pretends to dust dirt off her already dirty uniform.

Stopping in front of Walter, I remove my knife from my back pocket and flip it open. Grabbing his wrist, I slam his hand down onto a table and stab the knife through it, pinning it down.

He screams, trying to jerk it away, but the knife is in the wood.

“Apologize,” I order.

“Wh-hat?” His shrill voice fills the open club.

I grip his hair, yanking his head back. “Apologize to my wife. Now.” My eyes go to hers, and she’s looking at me wide-eyed, her body frozen in shock.

“I’m … I’m sorry,” he growls through gritted teeth.

I remove the knife from his hand. He drops to his knees, holding it to his chest as it bleeds everywhere. Running the blade across my thigh, I close the knife and slip it back into my pocket. “Walter?”

“Yeah?” He lifts his head to meet my glare. I remove my gun from the back of my slacks and shoot him right between the eyes.

Lake’s scream follows the sound of my gun as blood splatters her uniform, and his body falls to the floor where she had been lying. She places her hand over her mouth, and silence follows as everyone stands paralyzed at what I just did.

“This will be your only warning. Don’t put your hands on my wife. Ever.” My voice rings loud and clear. Reaching out, I grab her shaking hand and yank her to me. “Clean this shit up,” I order, and everyone scrambles, getting back to work.

I pull her into the hallway, and she yanks her arm free of my hold. “Why don’t you just whip your dick out and piss on me,” she growls. “It might help get your point across.” Her palms hit my now bloody shirt.

I wrap my hand around her throat and shove her back into the wall, pushing my hips into her to pin her in place. “Nothing is off the table, darling.”

Her nostrils flare, her pretty blue eyes swimming in tears that she hasn’t allowed to fall yet. “You’re disgusting.”

I lower my lips to her ear, and whisper, “I am, but I will make you crave everything I choose to do to you.”

LAIKYN

I’m not surprised Tyson just killed that guy. I’ve known my father was a Lord since I was young, and I also knew what that entailed. What I am surprised about is that he killed Walter because of me. I don’t want that on my conscience. Another dead body because I couldn’t save them. Even if the man was a fucking prick.

Tyson steps back, grabs my hand, and I look over my shoulder to see the body already gone. Beau is on his hands and knees, cleaning up the blood that remains with towels and a bucket of water.

We get into the elevator and ride it up to the fourth floor in silence and step off. We enter the apartment, and he pulls me through the master bedroom and into the bathroom. “Get undressed. We’re showering and going to bed.” He lets go of my hand, and I come to a stop, watching him undo his blood-covered button-up and then shrug it off his shoulders. He removes his gun from the back of his slacks, pulls back the slide, and removes the magazine. He places them all on the countertop by his sink.

If I knew how to use a gun, I’d take the opportunity to shoot him but, I know I’d fail or end up shooting myself. Then he toes off his shoes and removes his socks. Last, he undoes his belt before unbuttoning his slacks, shoving them down his legs along with his boxer briefs.

This is the first time I’m actually paying attention to his naked body. Last time we showered, I was too embarrassed to even look at him. And thankfully, he demanded I turn around. When I watched him with my sister, I never paid much attention to it. But now I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

He’s got scars on his back, above his right shoulder blade. Looks like a small circle. Bullet wound, maybe? I hate that I want to ask what it’s from. Another on his arm, and a third scar down on his left lower back. Possibly a stab wound?

My eyes drop to his ass and my breathing picks up at how chiseled it is. His muscular thighs flex when he opens the glass door and steps into the shower, turning it on.

I sigh, removing my clothes, knowing I’m covered in blood and alcohol and need to clean off before I go to bed. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day, and I never stay up this late.

Getting naked, I step inside and pause for a second, remembering he’s got a fucking shock collar around my neck. I’m afraid to get it wet, but then I remember I already took a shower with it on before I even knew what it was. I highly doubt he’d kill me this soon. He married me for a reason. Whatever it is, I’m sure he’s playing the long game here.

He turns to face me, and I step back until I’m up against the cold tile wall. He cages me in, a smile tugging at his lips. “What’s wrong, little darling?”

I snort. Way too many things to answer that question.

“Afraid of me?”

Squaring my shoulders, I say, “If you think I’m going to bow down to you because you’re my husband, you’re wrong.”

He reaches out, hands on either side of my face, tilting my head back so I have to look up at him as he presses his slick and firm body into mine. My hands come up instinctively to grip his wrists, trying to pull them free of my face, but it doesn’t work.

I expect him to choke me, slap me, grip my hair, yank me under the sprayer and drown me. Instead, he lowers his lips to mine and kisses me. A slow and soft sensual kiss that makes my heart race with unease while my body melts for him.

My eyes fall closed as a tingling sensation slowly runs up my spine, making me shiver. I moan into his mouth, my body going soft and pushing into his. My arms drop from his wrists to wrap around his waist, my fingers digging into his wet skin.

It’s in this moment I realize just how fucked I am. I’ve never considered myself to be fragile. But he’s taking my body to places it’s never been before. He’s forcing it to experience things it didn’t know existed. And I can admit that I don’t know how to fight that.

He pulls away, my lips stay parted, gasping in a shaky breath, and my heavy eyes open. His thumb runs along my upper lip before tracing the bottom. “I can’t wait to see you on your knees, crying for me while you choke on my cock.”

My thighs clench on their own at his words, reminding me how sore my pussy is. They’re just fucking words and I’m already going weak. They’re not even endearing, they’re vulgar and disgusting, yet my body likes the way they sound.

He pulls back just enough to separate our bodies, and my eyes drop down his chiseled abs to his deep V and I see his dick. He’s as hard as my pussy is wet. Or that could be his cum from when he fucked me before my shift.

“You want that, little darling?” he asks, and my eyes snap up to meet his. His left hand leaves the side of my face to trail down over my heaving chest until he gets to my breast. He’s gentle, his thumb running over it. “Tell me, Lake. That you want me to fuck your mouth.”

I realize my lips are still open, so I close them, swallowing the saliva and water from the shower before they open again on a gasp when he pinches my nipple, making my hips rock forward involuntarily. It’s like he’s got a map straight to my pussy. He knows exactly what to touch, what to say. Are all women like this? Or am I just a stupid bitch? I hate how inexperienced I am.

I can’t make the words come out no matter how much I want to. So I reach up, grip his wrist once again. Out of amusement or curiosity, he allows me to guide his thumb back to my lips. I pull his thumb into my mouth and close my lips around it, sucking on it.

His baby-blue eyes grow heavy, a growl comes from deep in his throat, and I feel a small sense of pride, but it’s gone immediately when he yanks it free from my mouth. “Ty—”

He shoves his middle and ring finger both into my mouth, interrupting what I was about to say, and it makes me gag. My body jerks involuntarily.

“That’s it, Lake. That’s the sound I want to hear you make. Suck on them, little darling. Pretend it’s my cock. Show me how good you’re going to be on your knees.” He splits his fingers inside of my mouth, one on either side of my tongue and I close my lips the best I can to swallow. “That’s it.” He slides them out, and I keep my mouth open for him, waiting for whatever he wants to do next. My tongue is out and ready like a hungry slut begging to be fucked.

He pushes his fingers back into my mouth, and I gag once again. My hips push forward, and my eyes start to sting with unshed tears. I arch my neck, trying to pull his fingers from my mouth, but he just pushes them farther down my throat, and I choke on them.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, eyes on mine. “Such a good girl.”

My thighs clench while my pussy throbs at his words. I want to hear them again, so I open up for him the best I can.

He adds a third finger, making me whimper around them filling my mouth.

“You’re doing so good, Lake,” he praises, and I drool runs out of the corner of my lips. “Look how needy you are.”

I blink, trying to nod.

He gives me a smile. “Your body is begging me to fuck it.”

I’m having trouble breathing and I can’t swallow, but I look up at him through my lashes, unable to look away from the hunger in his eyes.

He removes his fingers from my mouth and steps back. I sag, dropping my head and sucking in a ragged breath, needing a moment, but he grabs my arm, yanking me across the shower, and pushes me down onto the bench. I gasp, the tile freezing against my ass, legs, and back. He stands in front of me before I can get back up. He reaches over and grabs a bottle of soap and pours some onto his hard dick, then lets the bottle drop to the floor.

“Wrap your hands around my cock, Lake. Show me how much you want me in your mouth.”

Licking my wet lips, I drop my eyes to his dick right in front of my face. I do as he says, wrapping my hands around the long and veiny shaft. There are still inches that they don’t cover. I don’t know how big he is compared to others, but I’d say he’s on the larger side. His cock is the only one I’ve ever seen, let alone touched.

I start to move both hands up and down, smearing the soap. I’ve never done this before, so I have no clue what I’m doing.

His hands gather in my wet hair, and he holds my head in place, making my scalp tingle while I jerk him off in the shower.

“Fuck,” he groans, lifting his right foot on the bench next to me. I release his dick with my right hand and start massaging his balls. His body jerks, and he sucks in a deep breath through his teeth.

I smile to myself. He likes it. I’m controlling him right now. He’s my puppet. Sex is a two-way street. I never thought about it this way. I was afraid he’d use me, but I can use him.

“Tyson,” I moan. My mouth waters, imagining being on my knees for him just like he described—crying and gagging.

“Yes, little darling. That’s it.” He groans.

I look up and watch him slap his free hand on the wall behind me. He throws his head back, showing me his chiseled jawline, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. “Goddammit.”

My hand goes back to his dick, and I move them faster, grip him harder. I’m in awe of the way his muscles tense and his hips thrust forward. I can only imagine what he’ll look like when I’m on my knees for him.

I slow them down and run my fingers over the barbell at the bottom of his shaft. I want to lick it, pull it into my mouth to see what kind of sound he makes when I suck on it. Running my hand up to the head, I twist my hand and his breathing becomes erratic. Then all of a sudden, he steps away from me, yanking his dick from my hands. He holds my head in place with his hand still in my hair while his free hand grips the base of his hard cock. He runs it up and down his shaft a few times before he comes all over me.

I close my eyes just in time to feel it hit my chest, neck, and bottom half of my face. He tugs me to my feet and slams my back against the wall. “Open your eyes,” he demands.

I do as I’m told and look up into his eyes blazing down on me. I’m not sure if it’s anger or want. I’m hoping the latter because I’m so turned on right now, I can’t even be ashamed.

He runs his thumb over my lips, and he smears his cum before he lowers his to mine and kisses me once again, forcing his cum into my open mouth with his tongue. The texture is thick, but I don’t really taste anything. My arms wrap around his neck on their own, both his hands grip my hair, forcing me to cry out into his mouth.

He swallows it, devouring me, and I let him.

My hips push into his, and I’m desperate. My extremely sore pussy throbs, begging to be used. Fuck, I’m pathetic. This man is a monster. A killer. I haven’t even been married to him for twenty-four hours and he’s already got me trained. Just like he said he would.

All of a sudden, he pulls away, leaving me gasping, and my arms fall to my sides.

“Get cleaned up,” he commands and turns, leaving me in the shower all alone and needing him. I don’t know if I should cry or beg him to come back.