The Sacrifice: A Dark Revenge Romance
The Sacrifice: Chapter 61

I wake to a loud noise. Sitting up in my bed, I notice it’s dark in my room. Not a single light is on. It was when I closed my eyes earlier. “Tyson?” I call out, blinking to get my eyes to adjust.

Getting out of bed, I place my hands out in front of me as I walk toward where I think the door is. I feel the wall and then a light switch. I flip it on and let out a deep breath. Turning around, I scream when I come face to face with a man dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie. He’s got a mask on, making my heart leap into my throat.

A Lord’s mask.

It’s solid white with black lines all over, giving it a cracked look. The eyes have black circles, and the lips are the same. He’s got his hood up and over his head. “Ty—”

His hand comes out to wrap around my neck and pins me against the wall. My heart races as I reach up and try to shove him away, but he only pushes his hard body farther into mine. His mask-covered face goes to my neck, and I suck in a deep breath when I realize my collar is on my neck. My thighs tighten at the thought he put it on me while I was sleeping.

The fact he has that power over me makes me wet even though I know he won’t use it on me. I’m pregnant. But maybe once I have the babies…

“Beg me,” he whispers in my ear. His deep voice is deliciously dark, making goose bumps rise along my skin. “Beg me to stop, little darling.”

Why would I want to beg him to stop? This is what I’ve been wanting. My body needs him. Now more than ever. “Please?” I whisper, knowing I’m begging for it and not the other way around.

The hand around my throat tightens, and then loosens in a subtle warning. My hands come up, and I try to push him off me, but his strength is unmatched. “Pl-ease.” I gasp. “Please … don’t hurt me.” I try to be as believable as possible, feeling like this is some kind of test. If it is, I’m determined to pass.

“What if I want to?” He gives a dark chuckle at his own question, and my legs buckle, but he holds me up.

“What … what are you going to do to me?” I swallow, my body begging him to fuck me as I push my hips into his. Clearly failing at being the victim he wants me to play.

“Whatever I fucking want.”

I whimper, my breath catching.

He lets go of my neck, spins me around, and pushes the front of my body into the door. His body holding me captive. A hand grips my hair, yanking my head back, and I cry out at the sting. He shoves something round and rubber into my mouth, and I don’t fight him as he buckles the ball gag at the back of my head.

My tongue explores the smooth rubber as saliva pools around the large ball. My arms are pulled behind my back and I whimper when he cuffs my wrists together, cinching them tightly to make it hurt. Turning me back to face him, he cups my face, and my eyes are closed while I try to catch my breath.

“Look at me, little darling,” he demands.

Opening my heavy eyes, I look up into the white mask. I hate that I can’t see his eyes. A Lord’s mask is to keep him hidden from the world.

“That’s more like it.” He runs his knuckles down my cheek, and I pull my face away.

He grips my jaw and shoves my head into the door, making my nipples harden. He steps into me, and I cower. The fear of not seeing his face is turning me on more than it should. Even though I know it’s him, my imagination still runs wild. Is he going to hurt me? Fuck me? Tie me up and leave me?

“I wanted to gag you at our wedding,” he admits shamelessly, and I blink as my heart pounds in my chest. “I was hoping you’d fight me then so I could use that collar and leash on you. Watching you crawl to me would have been so sweet.”

I whimper, my hips pushing forward into him, and I can feel how hard he is. My thighs as wet as the drool starting to run out of my gagged mouth.

Cupping the right side of my face, he slowly runs his thumb over my bottom lip, smearing the drool.

“I’m in the mood to use my wife,” he growls, and the words make my pussy clench, loving the reminder that I’m his. No one else has ever held that title, and I’ll make sure no one else ever does.

He yanks me from the door, opens it, and pulls me into the hallway. I try to pull away and go back into the room, my heart now racing with fear. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. As much as I enjoy it, I’m too embarrassed to let someone see me so vulnerable.

His laughter fills the cold hallway as he drags me down it. “I want to show off what’s mine,” he adds. I try to dig my heels into the floor, but I’m powerless. He walks me onto an elevator, and it’s filled with my heavy breathing while it starts to carry us up.

My hands fist, pulling on the metal cuffs, and the drool drips onto my chest from the gag. A muffled moan escapes, and his soft chuckle tells me he heard it.

The door slides open, and I look wide-eyed at what resembles the Cathedral. But I know it’s not. It’s on a much smaller scale but looks almost identical.

He drags me down the aisle between the pews and to the altar. Several long pieces of black rope lie across a table. Turning me to face him, he pulls out his pocketknife and flips it open.

I hold my breath as he places it inside the collar of my shirt and cuts down the middle before yanking it off my body. My nipples are hard, and I shiver at how cold it is in here. Then he’s shoving my cotton shorts down my legs along with my underwear until I’m standing naked before him. Like always, he’s fully dressed. It’s not fair that he gets to hide his body from me.

He picks me up and sets me on the Lords’ table. I’m shaking, my breathing erratic and my pussy fucking soaked. He grabs my hair at the base of my neck, avoiding the buckle on the gag, and forces me down on my stomach. I close my eyes, knowing I’m about to serve my Lord.

For all I know, I’m about to be his sacrifice, and that’s why he married me. You don’t get to rule the world without shedding some blood along the way. The sad part is, I’d gladly do it.

TYSON

I pick up the first piece of rope and slide it underneath my wife, stopping it at her upper chest. I wrap it around her upper body and arms, bringing it to her back and tying it off with a knot. Then I take the extra rope down to her elbows, tying them together as well.

She moans, her body rocking from side to side, testing them. I smile. She won’t be able to move once I finish with her. Removing the keys from my pocket, I undo the cuffs and toss them to the side. I don’t need them right now. I continue with the rope around her wrists as I order, “Interlock your fingers.” She does as she’s told, and I slap her ass, making her jump. Rubbing the now red spot, I murmur, “Good girl.” She lifts her hips in the air, begging me to lower my hand between her legs, but I don’t. This is about me. Not her.

Tying her wrists together, I stand back and admire the rope wrapped around her flawless skin. “So perfect,” I praise her, and she whimpers.

I pick up the second piece of rope and do the same to her legs, tying them together on her upper thighs, above her knees, and then her ankles. She wiggles her body around, and I imagine how soaked her cunt is for my cock. I wish I had the time to bury my face between them, but I don’t. We’re on borrowed time as it is.

We broke her out of the psych ward a week ago. People know she’s missing by now. Luke is MIA and I’ve got two people who won’t tell me what I want to know. The rest of the world thinks she’s dead. As much as I wish to keep her safe, I don’t want her to have to live a life where no one knows she exists.

I take the last piece of rope, loop it around her tied ankles and then pull her legs, lifting them off the Lords’ table and tying the excess to the rope wrapped around her upper arms, securing her in a hogtied position.

Tying it off tightly so she has no way of getting free, I walk around to stand at the end of the table by her head and look down at her. Removing my mask, I smile at her as she looks up at me through her lashes. “Now I play with my wife.”