Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
“I told you, little darling. I’d only go easy on you the first time,” I grind out, shoving my cock into her while my feet hold hers open. “From here on out, you will be reminded who the fuck you belong to.”
LAIKYN
I sit at the kitchen table with my parents as Tyson and Whitney enter the room. He pulls the seat out for her, and she thanks him.
My cheeks blush when his eyes briefly meet mine. I watched him fuck my sister’s mouth. My bedroom is across the hall from hers, and I could hear her. They’ve been going at it for six weeks now. All I hear is her screaming his name and him telling her how good she feels.
Our parents have raised us to understand what sex is and what is expected of us. My sister and I are both meant to be chosens. She got to be Tyson’s-without my parents’ permission-and I hope when my time comes, the Lord I want, also wants me in return.
I watch my sister fix the collar of her shirt to hide a hickey that he’s obviously given her. I also don’t miss the fact that she’s washed her face after he came all over it. When he started, she had makeup on. Now she looks like she just woke up.
My sister slides her arm through the crook of his and pulls him closer to her. My mother frowns at the PDA but doesn’t say anything. My sister tends to get dramatic. Her and my mother have had several very intense conversations that have turned into yelling matches over Tyson. My sister wants to marry him. My parents have shut that down. She is his chosen, but she will be another Lord’s Lady.
They are two very different things.
I lean against the table, my eyes looking over Tyson. His chiseled jaw, baby-blue eyes, and broad shoulders. His muscular arms and chiseled abs. He’s fucking gorgeous. And the fact that I’ve seen him in action just makes him that much more attractive.
My clit is swollen, pussy wet just from watching them in her bedroom. Some would say eighteen is too young to be interested in a twenty-one-year-old, but at least I’m legally of age. Plus, my father is six years older than my mother. Her father gave her away when she was seventeen.
There are no age limits when it involves the Lords. I’ve heard of girls marrying as young as fifteen. We have our own laws. Our own traditions. That any outsider would disagree and look down on.
Tyson holds me pinned over the side of the bed and wetness runs down my legs while he fucks me once again. I can’t fight him, and the worst part is, I don’t want to. It hurts so bad, but I’m also already craving that sensation that takes my breath away. I’m still shaking from the other two he gave me.
“Ple-ease?” I beg through a sob. My shoulders are screaming while he holds my arms to my back, pressing me into the bed. I’m having trouble breathing from the pressure.
“Please what?” he commands, thrusting into me.
“I need-“
He pulls out and slams forward, making me scream, and his body tenses against mine before his cock pulses inside me. He comes, not letting me.
Pulling out, he lets go of my arms, and they fall to my side as a whimper escapes my lips. My legs can’t hold me up and I fall to the floor, twisting so my back leans against the side of the bed, pulling my shaking legs to my chest. I look up at him through watery lashes as he stares down at me.
Kneeling, he pushes my wet hair from my tear-streaked face. “You will have to earn to come from now on, Lake.” Then he stands, giving me his back and exiting the bedroom.
* * *
Valet had his blacked-out Bentley Continental GT V8 Coupe waiting for us when we exited the hotel not even thirty minutes after he left me shaking on the bedroom floor. We ride through the city in silence once again. We haven’t spoken to each other since he told me I’d beg him to get off.
Being this close to him in such a confined space has my breathing ragged. I’m trying to calm my racing heart, hoping he doesn’t hear how worked up I am while “Just Pretend” by Bad Omens softly filters from the speakers. I wish he’d turn it up to drown out any chance of hearing me.
I can feel his cum leaking out of my sore pussy and soaking my underwear. He’s proving a point. Dominance. Not like I needed a reminder. I’m very well aware of how powerful Tyson Riley Crawford is. He might not have taken over his father’s multibillion-dollar company like he was supposed to, choosing a nightclub instead, but he is still a Lord. And they’re all the same-ruthless.
The rain continues to fall, but it’s not as hard as before. He takes an exit, and I run my hands over the shorts my mother had packed in my bag. Tyson didn’t even bring it. I picked out what I wanted to wear at the hotel, and he made me leave the rest behind. I’m guessing he’ll make me sleep naked at his house. Hell, will he even let me wear clothes during the day while at his home? Doubtful. Visions of chains, cuffs, and leashes come to mind. I’ll be his personal pet. A slave to serve him. I’ll be lucky to sleep on a bed. He’s probably had a cage made just for me. The thought makes my chest tighten. Lords are all about humiliation. It makes them feel powerful to belittle others.
I once overheard my mother’s friend telling her that her husband threw a party for his three best friends and made her wear a gag in her mouth while she served them food. That was all she was allowed to wear. After they were done with dinner, she was ordered to lie on the table where they tied her down and each took their turn with her for dessert. I was disgusted at how turned on I got at the thought. All she could do was tell my mother how amazing it was to serve them. And how her husband’s one friend had the biggest dick she had ever seen. It was the best night of her life.
Slowing the car down, Tyson pulls into a parking lot, and I read the white sign outside of a redbrick building-Walls Dentistry. “What are we doing here?” I ask.
He comes to a stop in a front row parking spot and shuts off the car. Without answering, he gets out, and I let out a huff, doing the same. Taking my hand, he drags me into the front glass double doors. It looks closed. There isn’t a single person sitting at the front desk, and it’s a weekend. The row of chairs up against the far wall are also empty. A black coffee table is in the middle with a stack of magazines.
Tyson pushes open a door, pulling me down a hallway, passing room after room where the hygienists clean their clients’ teeth.
We pass another reception desk, and he then comes to the last room on the right. A man sits in a chair, his back to us. A dentist chair sits in the middle of the room. “Sit,” Tyson orders, pushing me toward it.
“Ty-“
“Good afternoon.” The man turns around to face us. He gives me a warm smile and looks to Tyson. “Congratulations on the wedding. It was beautiful.”
I shift uncomfortably in the chair. He’s a Lord. Of course, he is. “Tyson?” My wide eyes find his as he sits down in a chair in the corner. “What are we doing here?” I ask, licking my lips nervously.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls his cell out of the pocket of his jeans and drops his eyes to it while he types away. The guy I’m assuming is the dentist chuckles softly. “We’ll have you guys out of here in no time.” He places the blue paper bib on my chest, fastening it around my neck, and I try to even out my breathing. I’ve never been a fan of the dentist. And to be here, not knowing why, makes my heart race more so than it already was.
Turning his back to me, he resumes whatever he was doing when we arrived, and Tyson continues to type away on his phone as if he’s writing a fucking novel to someone.
I close my eyes. Deep breaths, Lake.
“Open wide,” the guy says, and my eyes spring open just in time to see him leaning over my chair from behind. He’s shoving something into my mouth, and I don’t even have the chance to fight him.
It’s big and bulky, filling my mouth, and he presses it to the top, his fingers making sure to pull my upper lip around it. I start gagging as something touches the back of my throat.
“Breathe,” he tells me. “Through your nose.”
I pull my knees up, my back arching off the chair, but no matter how much I try to move, he keeps his left hand in my mouth, his fingers holding the device to the roof of my mouth. Tears sting my eyes, and just when I think I’m about to puke, he pushes down on it. I feel suction before it pops loose, and I watch him remove it. It’s a paste of some kind. I realize that I’ve done it before. He’s having molds made for whitening trays. Luke had me bleach my teeth. He wanted a Barbie for a wife. Small framed, glowing white teeth, and big tits. He always told me things that needed to be changed about my body. How he wanted to be attracted to me. He’s spent the last few years of my life altering what needed to be changed.
Why the fuck would Tyson care what color my teeth are?
I sit up, coughing. My tongue feeling the small pieces left around my mouth. I dig my fingers around and spit them out, not caring what I look like. Tyson has already seen me come and cry. I’m sure his plan is to make me feel humiliated in my everyday life.
I’m grabbed and pulled back down before I can fight the dentist again. He pushes my lips apart and does the same thing to the bottom. It’s not nearly as bad as the top was.
I stare at the clock on the wall, watching the secondhand make its way around sixty seconds before he removes it. “When was the last time you went to the dentist?” the man asks, placing the small mirror inside my mouth and looking around.
Hell if I know. “Six months ago,” I say, trying to think when the last time I had a cleaning.
He removes the mirror and mumbles a, “Hmm,” to himself.
Looking up at the ceiling, I run my tongue over my teeth, spitting out the chunks of the leftover mold.
Then his fingers are back in my mouth, pulling my lips apart. “Let that sit there,” he says, removing his hand, and something remains in my mouth.
“Wh-“
“Don’t talk,” he scolds me. “That numbing cream needs to set up. You’ve got a cavity that I’m going to fix. Afterward, I’ll clean them, and you kids will be on your way,” the dentist now sings, tapping my shoulder.
My eyes go to the corner to see if Tyson is still on his phone, but he’s no longer there.
THIRTEEN
TYSON
I pull up to Blackout and turn off my car. She hasn’t spoken to me since we left the dentist’s office thirty minutes ago. Getting out, I open her door and grab her hand, pulling her from it.
“Why are we here?” she asks softly when we enter through the back door.
All the lights are on, but we’re the only ones here at the moment. “This is where we’ll live,” I inform her.