The Sacrifice: Chapter 19

She sits next to me in my car, wearing the red dress I picked out for her along with matching six-inch Gucci heels. The butt plug in while my cum coats her black lace thong. The wedding ring and collar top off the look that screams MINE.

I watch her out of the corner of my eye, noticing the way she keeps moving in the seat. The butt plug doing what I wanted it to do—turn her on. Her cunt was soaked when I fucked her in the bathroom. Even now, she keeps running her hands up and down her bare thighs. She’s silently begging to get off. To get a release that I’m going to make her earn.

She sits up straighter when she sees me pulling up to our destination. “Do we have a room?” she asks, her breathing picking up.

“No,” I answer honestly. “We’ll only be here for an hour.” Less, if I have my way.

I come to a stop, and a guy opens my car door while another opens hers and helps her out. “Have a good evening, Mr. Crawford,” one says as I take her hand and pull her up the stairs and into the Minson Hotel. We ride the elevator up to the twentieth floor and step out into Marble, the elite restaurant, that overlooks the city.

“Hello, Mr. Crawford. Your party is already seated. Please follow me.” The blonde smiles at me brightly, completely ignoring the fact that I’m here with a woman.

“Party?” my wife whisper-shouts in my ear. “Who the fuck are we meeting for dinner, Tyson?”

I ignore her and follow the hostess to the back room. We’re not here for an audience. Well, none other than who I have called to join us.

The hostess opens the double doors and steps aside to allow us to enter the dimly lit room. “Here you go, Mr. and Mrs. Crawford.”

Lake stops, and a small gasp escapes her red-painted lips when she sees who we’re dining with tonight.

The man stands from his chair and clears his throat. “Laikyn, Tyson.” He nods to us, but I see the sharpness in his tight jaw. He doesn’t want to be here, but he also couldn’t turn down my request to meet us for dinner. I’m pretty sure he just agreed to have proof she isn’t dead yet.

“Dad,” she whispers. “Mom.”

Her mother rolls her eyes and then throws back most of the wine in her glass. She also didn’t have a choice to be here. Like her daughter, her husband informed her she’ll attend. My father-in-law refusing my request to dine at his hotel would make him look foolish. And Mr. Minson is anything but a fool.

“I’ll let your server know you’ve arrived,” the hostess states, exiting the private room. She closes the tinted black glass double doors at her departure, silencing the chatter in the main part of the restaurant.

I help my wife over to the table and pull out a chair for her to sit in. I take the one next to her while we both face her parents. A silence lingers over the room, and I feel for the object in the pocket of my dress slacks. It’s the icing on the cake for tonight.

The double doors open, and our server arrives, approaching the table. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Minson. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford. What can I get you all to drink tonight?”

“Scotch.” Her father answers first.

“Bring me a bottle.” Her mother speaks, lifting her now empty wine glass. She’s obviously had a head start.

“Of course. For you, Mrs. Crawford?” He looks at Laikyn.

She swallows nervously. “I’ll take a glass of what she’s having.” She nods to her mom.

The server looks at me. “She’ll have a water, and I’ll take a whiskey—neat,” I inform him.

“Perfect. I’ll get those right out to you.” He turns and takes off.

Lake’s mother snorts at the fact I won’t allow their daughter to drink. Her husband prefers her drunk all the time, but I’m nothing like him.

Reaching under the table. I rub my hand up and down Lake’s thigh, making her jump. Her knees hit the table, causing it to rattle, and she clears her throat as if that’s going to distract them from what really just happened.

“So Lake,” her mother starts, “are you ready for your initiation?”

Her body tenses under my hand. “I, uh—”

“Lake won’t be doing initiation.” I interrupt my wife’s rambling and calm her unease. There’s no reason for her to be worried about that.

“All Ladies must participate in initiation.” Mr. Minson looks over at his daughter. “Don’t worry. I highly doubt that it’ll be anything too drastic. It goes by level of power.”

I refuse to acknowledge that he just tried to make a dig at the fact that I no longer hold the powerful title I was supposed to have before and gave it up for the opportunity to be sitting here with his daughter as my wife.

The server reappears and passes out our drinks. I pick up my whiskey. “Rules have changed for some,” I decide to say, not wanting to give too much away but also making sure he understands he’s not right.

He looks at me and then at his daughter. His jaw sharpens and he slams down the drink he was just given. Is he mad that she’s not going to be initiated? If so, I don’t know why he’d care.

“You’re not a Lady unless you pay your dues,” her mother adds, throwing back her now full glass of wine.

I look at Lake, and she drops her eyes to stare at her glass of water. It’s like they want her to fail, which would make sense. They don’t want her with me, and if she were to fail initiation to become a Lady, then she’d no longer be my wife. Would they rather her be shunned by the Lords? Killed? Than be with me? Abso-fucking-lutely.

To them, a dead daughter is better than one serving me. I know. History proves that.

“Are you ready to order?” the server asks.

We each take our turn ordering, and then he’s gone. We sit in silence once again and I feel it’s time to prove the point that I came here to prove.

I reach into the pocket of my slacks and push the button.

“FUCK!” Lake slams her hands down on the table, her body jerking in surprise.

“Laikyn,” her mother scolds her. “Language.”

She starts to stand, but my hand on her thigh tightens to prevent it. She stays here, where I want her. When she realizes that, she reaches out, grabs her mother’s glass of wine, and takes a big gulp, coughing through a gasp when she pulls it away. I know she’s never been a drinker before.

I bite back a smile at the thought of what she’s feeling right now. She had no clue that the butt plug vibrated because I hadn’t turned it on until now. I have it on the lowest setting, but it was still a surprise nonetheless. Not only does it vibrate but it’s not called the rimmer for nothing.

She’s rocking her hips in the chair and she sets the now empty wine glass down. “Tyson?” She growls my name. Her hand drops to wrap around mine that sits on her thigh, and she digs her nails into my skin.

“Yes, little darling?” I ask, unable to stop my grin.

“May I speak to you for a second?” she asks tightly. “Privately?”

I push my chair back and stand, letting go of her thigh. “Of course.”

She shoves hers back and jumps to her feet. Then she turns and all but runs off to the private restroom that’s provided for this section of the restaurant.

I follow her. The moment we enter the restroom, she spins around on me. “You son of a—”

I wrap my hand around her throat and shove her back into the now closed door. I press my body into hers, and she whimpers, her eyes falling shut before they open to meet mine.

“That’s no way to talk to your husband,” I tell her.

She lets out a shaky breath, and I hold up my free hand with the remote in it. “Especially when he has the control.”

“Please, Ty—”

I up the intensity and she cries out, her hips pushing into mine. “Oh my God.” She gasps, her hands gripping the sleeves of my crisp button-up.

I lean forward, my lips gently kissing her parted ones, tasting the lingering wine on hers. “I am the only god you will worship, little darling. Ready to get on your knees for me?”

“Please,” she begs, her pretty plump lips trembling. “Turn it off. Or I’m…”

“You’ll what? Come?”

She closes her eyes tightly and whimpers once more, but her body presses into mine as her fingers dig into my arm. She’s holding on for dear life.

I step back, pull her from the door, and turn her to face the bathroom mirror, wrapping my arm around her neck from behind. “Watch yourself, Lake. Watch yourself get off with nothing but a butt plug up your ass.” I hold up the remote and turn it on full blast. I also take away her air at the same time, knowing if I don’t, she’ll be screaming so loud they’ll hear her.

This part of the restaurant is reserved for her family. Her daddy fucking owns this hotel. I’m sure her parents are out there right now trying to hear whatever we have to say. And although I want them to know I’ve made her my whore, now that we’re here, I’d rather not have them hear her come for me. That’s for my ears only.

I lean down, whispering in her ear. “It’s okay to like it, Lake. It won’t be long before you beg me to fuck your ass.” This is also why I didn’t allow her to come earlier when I fucked her pussy in the bathroom. I wanted it to build and for her to explode when I finally allowed her this privilege.

She swallows, her hands coming up and gripping my shirt once again. This time trying to pull my arm away so she can breathe. I hold it in place.

Her lips are parted, hips rocking back and forth, and the thin material of her dress displays her hard nipples. I want to bend her over and bury myself inside her pussy but that’s not what tonight is about. It’s to prove just how much power I have over her without my dick. With a simple flick of a wrist, I can have her begging me.

Her eyes grow heavy, dark, thick lashes fluttering, and her body stiffens against mine. Her arms drop to her sides, and I loosen my hold on her neck just as she comes. She’s gasping for air when I remove my arm from around her neck completely, and her head sags as her hands flatten out on the counter.

I gently gather her hair off her back, and she raises her head, her narrowed eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “You’re a fucking bastard,” she says through gasps, trying to catch her breath.

I pull on her hair, not enough to be rough but enough that she stands. I turn her to face me and cup her cheeks, loving how flushed her face looks. “That’s no way to talk to your husband who just got you off.”

She bares her straight white teeth at me, and I smile.

“What do you say?” I ask her.

“Fuck you,” she snaps, panting.

I bite back a smile. Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead and say, “You’ll learn to be more appreciative of my kindness, little darling.”

LAIKYN

I fall into the passenger seat of his car that the valet had waiting for us outside the Minson Hotel. After I came in the bathroom, we sat back down with my parents. All I could think about was the cum-covered underwear I had on. It was more awkward than it had been in the beginning. I felt like they could see it written all over my face. My father couldn’t stop looking at my choker. My mother drank herself into a drunken stupor, but that was nothing new. She’s been drunk most of my childhood. It got worse after Whitney passed, though.

Tyson gets into the car and drives off.

I cross my arms over my chest, pissed at him. But what did I expect? I should have known he had an ulterior motive to even take me out in public. Some of me thought he was taking me out on some kind of date. Fuck that. He wanted to show me off. Show his power off. He only married me in the first place to throw it in my parents’ faces.

For a second, I was the dumb bitch I swore I’d never be. The same one that he turned my sister into. Well, that won’t happen again.

Thankfully, he remains silent while we drive back to Blackout. I want to ask him about initiation but refrain from doing so. He’d probably lie to me anyway. My mother was right—a Lady has to be initiated. I’m not sure if he was telling the truth or not about me not having to. I’d rather not know, honestly.

If I’m given an assignment, I’ll make sure to do whatever the fuck it is. That’d be an easy out for him—me failing at initiation. I would never willingly give him that kind of gratification.

Pulling up to Blackout, he parks in his designated spot and turns off the car. I get out and make my way over to the door. I have to wait for him to punch in the code to open the back door because I don’t know it. The thundering bass vibrates my heels and I make my way to the elevator, knowing I’ve got to go upstairs to change into my work outfit.

He grabs my hand as we step off the elevator, and I let him pull me down the hallway to the door to the apartment. Once we’re inside, he lets go, and I make my way to the bathroom.

“Bend over the counter,” he orders, entering as well.

The hairs on the back of my neck instantly rise, and my breathing picks up. Doing as I’m told, I bow my head and stare at my heels. My hands on the cold marble surface.

He comes up behind me, and I shiver as his knuckles run up my thighs, lifting the soft material of the dress in the process. My heart starts to pound when I feel my ass exposed to him. He bunches the dress at my waist and abandons it to pull my thong down my shaking thighs.

“I love how much my touch affects you, little darling,” he says, sounding amused.

A whimper escapes my lips before I can stop it.

“Your body practically begs me to fuck it,” he goes on, and I shuffle from foot to foot, knowing he’s looking down at the butt plug in my exposed ass.

I jump at the feel of his hand between my legs, his fingers running over my soaked pussy before he pushes two into me, making my breath catch. When he pulls them out, I sag at the sound of his zipper. He told me he’d fuck me each night before my shift started. I guess he’s getting it over with.

It’s part of his plan of humiliating me. My family’s name.

My breath catches when he pushes his cock into my already sore and sensitive pussy. Stretching me wide open to accommodate his size, he doesn’t waste any time. Immediately, he starts fucking me. The sound of my heavy breathing fills the bathroom, along with the sound of his body hitting mine.

He places his finger over the butt plug, pushing on it, and it makes my pussy tighten around his dick. I bite my lip to keep from begging him to turn it on. I can’t show how much I like being used by him. He already knows how much my body enjoys it.

“Tyson.” His name slips from my lips, unable to stop it.

His free hand grips my hair, and he yanks my head up, forcing a soft cry from my lips as I stare at him in the mirror over my head. “Don’t you dare come,” he demands.

My eyes fall closed. “I can’t stop it.”

He slams his dick into me, and I snap my eyes open when he lets go of my hair, reaches around, and wraps a hand around my neck, pulling my back to his front. He lowers his lips to my ear, his hard eyes still holding mine in the mirror. “If you come on my cock, you will be punished. Do you understand?”

I swallow against his fingers crushing the choker into my sensitive skin. “Please—”

“Begging will only make it worse, Lake,” he warns, and my pussy once again clenches around his dick that is resting inside of me.

I need him to move. “Yes, sir.” I manage to get out.

He growls, his hand tightening to the point it takes my air away. I don’t fight him. I’d rather pass out than come on his dick. I don’t want him to think that a part of me wonders what kind of punishment coming will get me. Instead, I grip the edge of the counter tighter while his hips start to move again.

He’s brutal, shoving mine into the counter, not giving a fuck if he leaves bruises. Or maybe he’s doing it on purpose. Either way, I let him take what he wants. My body, my dignity, my fucking mind.

I’ve only been Mrs. Crawford for two days, and already I’m his little bitch to treat as he pleases. He shoves his hips forward one last time with a grunt as his cock pulse inside me.

Letting go of my neck, it falls forward, and I suck in a ragged breath as he pulls out of my dripping pussy. He places his hand on my back, pushing my front onto the counter, and I go willingly, unable to meet his stare right now.

I want to cry from how sore I am, but I also want to beg him to let me come again.

I feel his fingers on the butt plug, and I try to relax, not sure what he’s going to do with it, but a second later, I feel him pulling on it. I surprise myself as a moan escapes my parted lips when he pulls it free of my ass.

Trying to calm my breathing, he grabs my hair and yanks me to my feet, spinning me around to face him. I watch him bend down and grab my underwear bunched around my ankles. Standing, he pulls them up my shaking legs and places them on me.

Leaving my dress up around my waist, he steps into me, his hands on either side of my face. “You will not shower before your shift.”

I lick my dry lips, already knowing this was coming. He wants me to feel him running out of me all night. “I understand.”

“Good girl.”

I don’t know why those two words make me feel butterflies in my stomach all of a sudden. I shouldn’t like pleasing him. I don’t need praise or validation for something that I didn’t even have a choice on. But he’s shown me that when I’m good, he rewards me. And I’d love to get to come again tonight.

“Get changed. Your shift started an hour ago.” With that, he lets go of me and walks out of the bathroom.

I take a second to collect my thoughts before entering the bedroom to find him already gone, and I take in a calming breath. My leotard, boy shorts, and fishnets are on the end of the bed. I pick them up to notice this isn’t the leotard I wore last night. It looks identical except it snaps between the legs. It only takes me a second to understand why the change.

Trying to ignore those butterflies that flutter again, I quickly get changed before he comes back to punish me for taking my sweet time.

I’m dressed and down at the bar in less than fifteen minutes. The club isn’t packed just yet since it’s not quite ten, but it is busy. I wonder just how busy it’ll get since it’s a Sunday night.

“Hey, Laikyn,” Bethany yells at me over the music. “Tyson wants to see you.”

I frown but set down my tray and start to walk toward the back hallway I know leads to the elevator for his office.

“He wants you in his back office,” she calls out, taking a turn down a hallway that I’ve never been down before. There’s a door at the end. She pushes it open, and I step inside.

I turn around when she chooses not to enter with me and instead shuts the door. “Hey!” I try to open it, but it’s locked. What the fuck? “Bethany?” I shout, knowing she can’t hear me over the music. I yank on it, but nothing. “Open the damn door.”

“You know…”

I spin around at the sound of a familiar voice. “Fuck.” I place my hand on my chest, leaning back against the door and letting out a long breath. My heart now hammering in my chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

His brown eyes narrow on me. “Watch your language, young lady.”

I stand, straightening my shoulders.

“Married for forty-eight hours and already he’s got you talking like him,” my father growls.

What just happened hits me, and I gasp. “Dad, you can’t be here. I can’t be here.” I turn back to the door and try again, but we’re locked in here. “She’ll go tell Tyson.” I don’t trust Bethany as far as I can throw her. I haven’t gotten close enough to her to find out if her and my husband have a past or not, but the comment she made about my sister tells me she’s known him for quite some time. Her loyalty will lie with Tyson, not me.

“She will not.”

“Dad, she—”

“Works for me,” he interrupts me, making me frown.

“What does she do for you?” I wonder but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he just stands there staring at my neck to the point it makes me nervous. I reach up and rub the shock collar. It’s irritating to say the least.

“God, you’re a disgrace,” he growls.

My stomach sinks at his words. I’ve never been one of his favorites. I was actually the only one he didn’t care for. My sister was his baby girl. And my brother was going to run the world like my father does. I was the leftover who didn’t matter.

“I don’t have a choice.” I try and justify what I’ve done. I try to think of what he’s seen. Blood all over the bed in his hotel. Me almost coming at the table while at dinner. The way I’m dressed right now to go and work at a nightclub. “Dad—”

He backhands me across the face, making me cry out. It wasn’t as hard as the day of my wedding, but it still stings.

“At least your sister was willing to do what needed to be done,” he snaps.

Cupping my throbbing cheek, I look up at him through my lashes. “What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He fixes his tie and has the audacity to look annoyed. He steps closer, and I cower against the door as he towers over me. “You will do whatever needs to be done for this family, do you understand me?”

I nod and whisper, “Yes, sir.”

Adjusting his shoulders, he sighs as if momentarily satisfied with my answer. “That means if he wants to pass you around like the whore you’ve become, then you spread your fucking legs and let whoever he chooses fuck you.”

I flinch at his words. The fact he’s talking about me having sex with men makes me want to vomit. Even if I know Tyson won’t do that. He’s too possessive. His point is that he owns me. He proved that when he shot his employee for just touching me. “Yes, Father,” I say to please him, knowing the only person who will fuck me is my husband. I never thought I’d be thankful for that. Because what my father just said proves he’d force me to whore myself out if need be.

“This is for you.” He removes a cell phone from the inside of his suit jacket.

I take it from him with my shaking hands.

“Hide it but have it on you at all times. Do not let Tyson find it.”

What? Tyson is so hands-on; I’d never be able to hide it on my body. “How am I supposed to—”

“Figure it out!” he shouts, interrupting me. Taking a deep breath, he lowers his voice. “You will receive your initiations through this phone.”

“Initiations? I thought there was only one?”

“You’ll have as many as they send you,” he snaps. “And they will be completed, do you understand? Tyson wants you to fail. To be even more of a disgrace.” His eyes drop to my black Vans and move up my fishnet tights to my booty shorts and leotard with a look of disgust. “Our family name would have been better off if you had been the one to die.”

His words hurt me more than the slap to my face ever could because I’ve thought of them more times than I can count over the past few years. As a Lady, you are raised to serve. We were meant to bring our family pride by making the next generation of Lords and Ladies.

Only Tyson and I are aware that I’ll never reproduce. Again, I’m thankful that my husband is too ashamed to knock me up. Even if my father doesn’t want me to birth a Crawford, not having a child is a worse kind of failure in the Lords’ eyes. Because to them, I can have a daughter that could one day marry up. It’s a vicious cycle that I can’t put on an innocent child. The women are to be used and the men rule.

“I’ll be checking in frequently,” he informs me as if I thought he wouldn’t.

“Yes … Father.” I manage to get out without sounding like I’m about to cry.

“In the meantime, when I’m not around, just know Bethany will be watching.”

She’ll be his bitch. I wonder what he has on her to make her willing to be my babysitter. Or maybe she just hates me that much that she went to him and offered her services. “I understand,” I whisper.

He knocks his knuckles on the door three times and then it opens, letting him out. I take a second to collect my thoughts and get my breathing under control, unsure of what to do with the phone he gave me. I decide to run to the locker room and hide it in there for now before I make my way back to the side of the bar and grab my tray. I ignore Bethany, but I can feel her stare on me. I’m outnumbered. If I betray Tyson, there’s no telling what he’ll do to me. But if I betray my father? He’ll have me killed. I’ve seen him do it for less. No one stands in a Minson’s way. Not even blood.

I’ve got to pick a side and hope it’s the right one.