Iread over the text before pocketing my phone. Looking up from the front pew, I watch the naked woman struggle in the rope displayed on the Lords’ table. She’s been there for over an hour, waiting, screaming nonsense into her gag.
My wife is pissed at me, but it’s nothing new. It’s also something I’m more than willing to live with.
Ryat enters from the side door that leads back to the hallway and office. “Done.”
I nod. “Package will be here any minute.”
He runs a hand through his hair nervously, and I wait for the inevitable. He doesn’t make me wait long. “You sure you want to do this?” His green eyes slide to the table at the sound of her gagged sobs and then back to mine.
Do I want answers to who took my wife away from me? Abso-fucking-lutely. Does that mean she may hate me the rest of her life? Yes. But I can live with that. I’ve been her husband while she hated me, and it didn’t bother me. I won’t let it now.
Sighing at my silence, Ryat adds, “I hope it works.”
It will.It has to. “Bring in our guests,” I tell him. “Place them in the front pew.”
Walking away, he goes back through the door but returns seconds later with our two guests we brought with us from Carnage. They’re both dressed in black cloaks and white masks—just like the Lords do when they gather here to perform some ritual or tradition.
The only difference is they’ve got their hands cuffed behind their backs and gags in their mouths. Jackson’s is full of an inflated ball gag—just like the one I used on my wife. I wanted him as silent as could be. The woman has tape over hers.
Ryat pushes them both to sit in the front pew. I can tell which is which just by looking at them. The woman is significantly smaller, so the cloak swallows her up. Ryat sits between them. If need be, he has to make sure they don’t get up and try something.
The sound of the front doors squeaking alerts everyone that our package has arrived. I straighten my shoulders as a set of dark eyes meet mine. He’s at the far end of the aisle, but he’s slowly walking toward me.
I want to smile but don’t, too much could go wrong at this point. “Tyson.” He draws out the single word and then snorts. “I should have known it was too good to be true.”
Shrugging, I place my hand on the edge of the Lords’ table. His eyes drop to it before meeting mine. I see the apprehension in his.
“Is she your wife or mine?” I question as her tied body trembles. She’s been in this position for quite some time.
He fists his hands and takes a step back.
“Go ahead.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Have a look.”
Reaching out, he unclenches his hand and grabs the drawstring holding the hood on. He pulls it gently, untying it, and his eyes rise to mine. He yanks it off, showing off our main guest—his wife.
I look at mine who sits in the front pew next to Ryat. I wish I could see her face, but I can’t through the Lord’s mask. But by the way she jumps to her feet, I’m glad I placed tape over her mouth because she’s screaming into it.
LAIKYN
I’m exhausted,body still shaking from the way Tyson used it in the cathedral at Carnage. I lie in the passenger seat of his Bentley, eyes closed and pussy soaking wet. He brings the car to a stop, gets out, and picks me up out of the passenger seat.
Opening my eyes, I notice we’re at the Cathedral. The same one where I became his wife. He starts to take the stairs, and I look over his shoulder to see Ryat pull up into the dark parking lot and get out of an SUV I don’t recognize. He goes to the back and opens the hatch. He’s reaching into it when Tyson enters the building, and I can no longer see.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, my tongue as heavy as my eyes.
“We’re having a confessional,” Tyson answers, walking me down the aisle to the chancel. It feels like it’s been years since we were here saying our vows.
I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face into it as well. I open my eyes moments later when he sits me down. I look around to see we’re in an office. I’m sitting on a leather couch, and he kneels in front of me. His hands on my shaking thighs.
“Why?” I wonder.
He stands, leans over, and gently kisses my lips. That’s as much of an answer as I’m going to get. I know my husband well enough by now to know when he’s going to keep secrets from me.
“We won’t be here long,” he assures me, pushing my tangled hair behind my ear. “And when we’re done, I promise to fuck you.”
I groan. “Please.”
He chuckles at how much he got me worked up. The door opens and Ryat enters. He tosses a cloak and a Lord’s mask on the couch beside me. “Our main attraction is in place,” he informs my husband.
