Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
She stands up, towering over us as she zips herself back up like nothing ever happened.
“Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?” Orion bemoans, smearing his own blood all over.
Sunny casually taps Orion’s cheek. “Not yet, pretty boy. Stay alive. I’m gonna need you for a second round later.”
“Second round?” he squeaks, before his head flops down onto the wood like his soul has left his body.
A rattled, hacked-up laugh exits my mouth. “Guess we both got what we deserved.”
The giant slowly falls out of us, and she pulls it away from between our legs. “I’ll take this back before you two decide to start playing with each other without me.”
“Pfft, never,” I retort.
“What do you mean, ‘never’?” Orion quips, lifting his head solely to scold me. “You just did.”
I roll my eyes and ignore him, while Sunny chuckles.
“No matter. You begged to be mine, so I will make you my sluts.”
Two metallic things dangle between her fingers.
“What are those?” I mutter, completely bamboozled.
She hops on over to us and opens them up, and before I know it, she’s already wrapped one around my flaccid dick and sealed it in tight, then does the same to Orion.
“A chastity cage?” Orion blurts out.
“What the—”
One finger on my lips is enough to silence me.
“You will keep this on until next time I require you. Understood?”
She pulls her mask off to wink at me while holding up the only key to the lock that seals away my shaft.
I nod quietly.
“Good boy.”
A single kiss is placed on top of my forehead, but it radiates like the fires of a thousand suns, scorching its way into my brain.
“See ya later, boys!” she says, as she sashays off and slams the door shut behind her as harshly as my heart just throbbed.
Fuck.
She wasn’t lying when she said I’d get exactly what I deserved.
CHAPTER 24
Atreus
Scoot. Scoot. Scoot.
Sweat droplets roll down my back, my neck, and my forehead while I scoot ahead inch by inch. When I finally reach the phone lying on the small table that she tarnished with her juices. Fuck.
I lean over as far as I can until the chair begins to topple, stretching the limits of the restraints as well as my body as my muscles tense. I groan in frustration and pain when I finally reach the phone with just the tip of my chin.
I manage to activate the screen and slowly but surely swipe upward with my nose, rubbing the screen until I find the goddamn call button and press the number for the station.
The phone rings.
Fucking finally.
But the balance between me and the chair is fragile, and I yell out loud when someone picks up only to fall headfirst onto the table and then the floor.
“Hello. Mr. Foley?”
“Fuck,” I mutter, face squashed into the floor.
“Sir? Sir, are you okay?” I hear Stacey, a front desk receptionist, on the other end of the line.
“I’m fine,” I rasp. “I need you to get someone to my house immediately.”
“What happened?” she says, typing something into her keyboard.
“I … Someone broke into my house and tied me up. It’s hard to explain. I need help.”
“Oh no, oh geez.” She sounds frazzled. “Okay, I’ll get Officer Jones to drive over to you.”
“Thank you,” I groan, trying to breathe through one nostril.
“You can hang up the phone now.”
“I would, but my hands are tied. Literally,” I reply.
“Oh, right,” she murmurs, clearing her throat. “Well, I will do it on my end then. If you need anything else, just call.”
As my lips part, the conversation is cut off.
“Just call,” I repeat, rolling my eyes.
Like it didn’t just cost me my entire reserve of energy to hop this goddamn chair over to my phone and swipe it into call mode with my nose.
I take another deep breath while trying to adjust my face, but I’m painfully aware of my junk flopping about freely through my zipped-open pants. I can’t do shit about it, and once that cop comes into my apartment, he’s going to have a field day, I’m sure.
Guess I’ll just have to suck it up.
After a good fifteen minutes, someone knocks on my door. “Mr. Foley? Are you there? You called us for help.”
“Yes!” I yell back as best I can.
“Can you open the door for me?”
“No, if I could, I wouldn’t have called!” I scoff. “I’m fucking tied to a chair.”
“Oh shit.” It’s quiet for a few seconds, then there’s rustling at the front door. “I’ll use a lockpick. Hold on.”
I breathe out another impatient sigh.
CLICK.
My door creaks open, and I turn my head as far as I can so at least one eye can catch a sliver of my entryway. He drops his bag and stares at me for a good five seconds, and the moment our eyes lock, my whole face turns beet red.
“Oh my God …” he mutters. “You’re naked.”