Page 40 of Worth Risking It

“Then just stop!” he shouted, stressing each word while tapping his finger on the counter. His chin lifted, his arms folding as he leaned to one side. “Devil’s advocate. You keep your side whores and Chazzy has her little flings while you’re out of town.”

My lids rounded, my heart sinking. A volcano of rage erupted inside, the lava burning my veins and breaking me into a sweat. Curling my fingers into fists that shook at my sides, my teeth ground together, an image of another dick touching that pussy infuriating me like nothing ever had. That was my pussy! I broke that hymen, she bled on me, she was mine!

In a flash, I was lunging toward him, my fingers around his throat, shoving his head back. Seething with a rage I couldn’t control, I hissed, “What the fuck are you saying, Wyatt?”

His eyes bulging, his hands fell to his sides. “Nothing, Milo. Jesus Christ, I said devil’s advocate. I was simply making a suggestion.”

“You’re suggesting my lady fuck another man? Huh?” I barked, my voice hitting the ceiling and ringing through the air. “Why? Why the fuck would you put those images in my head?”

His brows furrowed low, his nostrils flaring. His arms folding over his chest once more, he lifted his chin to try to break my hold. “Now you know how she feels. The only difference, her visions are real, yours aren’t. Devil’s advocate.”

Blinking, my fingers slowly uncurled as I backed away, my pulse thudding at my temples.

“Worse,” he croaked, rubbing his throat. “She has actual visions and sounds since she walked in on you twice.” Shaking his head, he strolled away from me without breaking our stare. “I swear, man. You’re like my brother and I love you to death.” His lids narrowed, his lip twitching. “But you are so goddamn selfish, you sometimes can’t see past the tip of your own fucking nose.”

His palm slammed to the door, and he strode through it, letting it swing back and forth behind his retreat.

My palms fell to the edge of the sink, my head dropping between my shoulders. Cursing under my breath, I closed my lids against the thoughts my brain concocted of Chastity being intimate with another man. It made my skin crawl and my gut curdle, my heart twisting with agony.

Was this really what she felt? How I made her feel? I promised to give her the world, to make her happy. I was failing the woman I loved.

Pushing off with a huff, I rested my hip to the counter, crossing my arms. My weight in one leg, I bent the other at my side, staring at the floor. Giving up all my mistresses meant I was one hundred percent giving control to one person. It wasn’t about a game, or even sexual with the other women. It was about clinging to the last bit of freedom I had.

Letting that go, being monogamous, putting someone’s needs above my own was something I had never done, never even thought I would be interested in doing. It terrified the hell out of me. I had never put so much faith, hope, and expectation into another human being. What if Chastity couldn’t handle it and everything fell apart? I would be devastated.

In my gut, I knew I would not survive if I had to kill her. Keeping my lovers was my last string to my old life where I didn’t need someone as much as I needed my fiancée. It was so intimidating, knowing how much my existence relied on her presence.

I rubbed at my face and cursed, shoving off the counter to walk out the kitchen. It had been months since I promised to be faithful. I had dragged this out as long as I could. It was time for me to bite the bullet, take that final plunge, and just completely commit, once and for all, because if I ever caught Chastity cheating on me, I would have no choice but to kill them both, and then myself.

Chapter 16

Chastity Monroe

The old, glass doors to the study in his apartment were opened, my arms and legs stretched wide and tethered to the corners. Clamps on my nipples, another on my clit, all were connected with three chains pulled tautly to tug at the sensitive nubs. With a blindfold on, I couldn’t see what he was doing, my ears tuning in to every sound.

My cheeks were drenched with tears, beads of sweat trickling down the dip in my spine. My muscles cramping and shaking, my heart rattling on my ribs, I was sniveling, my throat scratched, my voice croaking.

That morning, an emergency had popped up in Florida, sending Milo out of town once again. He had been gone for two hours, and I had been bound for almost one, Wyatt torturing me, denying one orgasm after another. I was hurting, tired, and frustrated. After not being able to touch one another for two weeks, how was he able to maintain control like this? I was fucking dying, and he’d not let me touch his dick once.

His feet pattered on the floor, approaching slowly. With bated breath, I tensed, squeezing my lids behind the silk, my teeth gnawing the red ball in my mouth. His large frame ducked beneath my arm to enter the study and stand before me. I strained my ears, trying to force my heartrate to quiet long enough for me to determine where he was.

A sharp pain ripped through my system when he tugged the loop where the three chains met, wrenching the nipples and clit. Throwing my head back, I wept, yanking on my restraints.

Feeling the coldness of the chainmail, I screeched and froze, shuddering as the strands roamed up my thigh to my stomach. A second later, they were crashing over my torso, smacking my flesh, drawing instant welts.

I screamed and whimpered, my insides lurching.

He tucked the whip between my thighs, rubbing at my pussy with the part that connected the links to the handle. My eyes rolled and I bucked wildly.

“My beautiful kitten is so fucking wet,” he rasped, his voice much closer than I expected.

My heart skipped and my head snatched toward his words. I tried to call out to him, but the gag muffled my pleas.

Wyatt added pressure, grinding the metal to the opening of my pussy. It felt so good! The coolness was sublime against my enflamed, hot skin. Wrapping my fingers around the ropes holding my wrists up and out, I circled my hips, praying he let me release.

Right as I was about to, he withdrew and slapped me hard with the chains.

Whining, I sagged, the weight straining the muscles on my shoulder blades.