I grab a roll of duct tape off the table and toss it over to Alex, who catches it midair. “You’ll talk when we tell you to,” I say.
Nate tries to fight them, but Finn grabs his hair, holding him in place while Alex takes the duct tape and wraps it around his head a few times before tearing it off and tossing it onto the coffee table.
I wait to see if Raylee says anything, but she doesn’t. Instead, her eyes drop to what I hold in my hand, and her breathing picks up. Pushing off the table, I walk over to the side of the couch so I don’t block Nate’s view of her. I push her bleach blond hair off her chest so I can see her tits. I slide my hand down her sternum, watching her nipples harden at the simple touch and her body silently begging me for more.
“What do you say?” I ask, lowering my hand over her stomach.
“Please?” she whispers.
I drop what’s in my hand and grip her hair, yanking her head back so she has to look up at me hovering over her. “I didn’t hear you. What does a slut do, princess?”
“She begs,” she answers, sucking in a deep breath.
I get to her lower abdomen, and she spreads her legs wider for me. I smile, bringing my hand to a stop and pulling it back up her body, making her growl in frustration. When it gets to her neck, I wrap my fingers around it and squeeze. “What are you waiting for?”
“Please?” Her voice rises just a bit with a little more desperation than before but still not enough.
I sigh in disappointment. “I guess if you’re not going to use your voice, then I’ll take it away.”
“No. No.” She tries to rise up on the couch but goes nowhere. “Please?” she asks, her hands fisting the couch on either side of her. “Please, I need it.” New tears spring to her gorgeous eyes. “I need you.”
“Need me to what?” I want Nate to hear her say it.
“Let me come.”
God, she’s fucking perfect. I spent the first year hating her because I wanted her so bad and knew I couldn’t have her. Then I did, and it made things even worse. My hatred grew for her every time I heard someone say her name. She was fucking everywhere. My home. My school. She walked into my life and turned it all upside down.
It’s not like we’ve fucked every day for the past six years. There were times when we’d go months without so much as a hello when we crossed paths in the halls at home.
That first year when I was at Barrington and she was still living with her mom and my dad was excruciating. I imagined her fucking all those high school guys. It was like taking away a child’s favorite toy. I still had eyes and ears at the school for me, but it was different. I couldn’t physically see what was going on with her.
We had a family dinner night twice a month and I’d make sure to remind her who she belonged to after our parents went to bed. But it still wasn’t enough. I couldn’t take it.
Then she finally graduated, and my father got her into Barrington University. That’s when I knew I had to have her in my house. I had to make her just as miserable as she made me.
Now I realize I could have had her this way every day. I should have made her mine sooner.
I look over to Nate sitting in the chair. His brown eyes are narrowed to slits, and what part of his face I can see that’s not duct-taped is red with embarrassment.
“Did Nate ever get you off, princess?” I wonder out loud, already knowing this answer. She tells Tatum everything. Sometimes I hear their conversations when she’s over at the house visiting, or when they’re talking on the phone. Other times, I read her texts while she sleeps.
She whimpers but answers softly, “No.”
“Did you fake it every time?” I also know this answer.
“Yes.” She tries to pull away because I’m still holding her head back, making her look up at the ceiling. But I don’t let go.
Nate’s shaking his head while sitting in the chair, but I ignore him, looking down at her. She’s crying, tears running down both sides of her face.
I let go of her, and she softly cries when I take a step back from her. I spot her underwear on the coffee table and get an idea. “Finn, why don’t you pour me a drink.”
He nods and makes his way over to the kitchen area, and I hear him fixing one while I watch her squirm in place. “Place your hands behind your back,” I order.
She lowers her head, sniffing, and pulls her arms behind her. I grab what I dropped and cross her wrists, securing the zip tie around them. Tight enough to pinch her skin. I want her to suffer tonight in the best way. I want her to have marks once I’m done with her.
“Here you go.” Finn sets a glass of scotch on the table and then goes back to his spot by the chair.
I pick up her thong and turn them inside out. “Look how wet I got you,” I say, holding them up to her.
