Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
The gorgeous house feels as cold as his eyes look. And it lacks any color other than black and gray. It fits his dark and mysterious personality.
“Which room is mine?” I ask, stepping through the front doors he holds open for me.
“You’re sleeping in my room. With me.” His response is clipped.
I let out a nervous breath. I knew that was coming, but I just needed confirmation. He walks off the first hall to the right, and I follow him. He pushes the black double doors open to what I assume is his primary suite.
It looks every bit of what a man like Haidyn would have as a bedroom. It lacks any type of decoration. One entire wall is nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows. The dark and thick curtains are open, showing off the woods. His large Alaskan king-sized bed sits up on a platform. It too is covered in a black comforter and two matching pillows. Who the hell only has two pillows?
He enters the adjoining bathroom and returns without my bags. “There’s plenty of room in the closet for your things,” he tells me, walking over to me.
I take a step back from him, and he comes to a stop. “Did you do this yourself?” I arch a brow, needing to know.
“No.” He scoffs as if that question is offensive.
I set down Muffin’s carrier and open it up, letting her run free and out of the room. “So you expect me to believe you suddenly care for my safety?” I ask, exiting his room and heading to the kitchen to get Muffin a bowl of water.
His boots on the dark marble floor tell me that he’s following. He has a couple of upper cabinets with glass doors, so I open the one with bowls. Looks expensive-crystal-and pick one out. Turning, I face the sink and him, turn on the water, and fill it up before placing it on the floor for Muffin. Then I give Haidyn my undivided attention.
He didn’t answer my previous question, so I ask another. “Then why would you care? Are you jealous?” Even I laugh at that thought and continue to dig at his silence. “That another man might be interested in me?” The guy was fucking stalking me. I didn’t imagine it.
He walks around the kitchen island, grips my hips, picks me up, and sets my ass on the cold surface. He shoves my knees open, standing between them, and cradles my face. His hands gently hold my jaw, forcing me to look up at him. “It’s not about jealousy, doll face. It’s about principle. You belong to me.”
I snort even though the brand on my ass proves his point. “Tell that to my boy toy.” That’s what he called my fake boyfriend when Haidyn showed up at my house, announcing I had an appointment, and I told him I had dinner plans. The thought reminds me that I still need to text Wesley to let him know I’m at least alive on my made-up vacation.
He gives me a smile, one as cold as his voice. “We both know that boy toy hasn’t touched you like I have.”
My breathing becomes labored, and he continues.
“If you let another man touch you, I’ll string him up and cut off his eyelids so he can’t miss you crawling naked on your hands and knees to me. I’ll fuck every hole you have, doll face, and let him see you whine and beg to be used like the whore I know you to be. Then after I’m done with you, I’ll cut his dick off as well and force it down his throat because he will no longer have any use for it.”
My eyes search his, looking for any kind of sign to tell me that he’s joking, but all I see is a man who means every fucking word he says.
“Do you understand, Charlotte?” he demands.
Swallowing, I answer, “Y-yes.”
“Whose little whore, are you?”
I hate the butterflies in my stomach at his command as I answer, “Yours.”
“Good girl.” He gently kisses my forehead. “I have work to do.” He steps back like he didn’t just go into detail about what he would do to another man who thought about me. “Make yourself at home.” With that, he walks away leaving me alone as if he didn’t just get me wet.
HAIDYN
I enter my office and shut the door, needing a moment to myself. My clothes smell like her, and now my house will too. But this was my only option. A part of me knows this was a setup, but the other part doesn’t want to take the risk of being wrong. I’ve claimed her as mine, meaning I must protect her. She’s mine to fuck, mine to ruin, and mine to use. I wasn’t lying when I told her exactly what I would do to another man who thinks he can have what belongs to me.
I pull my cell out of my pocket and dial Adam.
“Hey, man.”
“Charlotte is at the house,” I inform him.
“Everything okay?” he asks, sounding concerned.
“Long story short, she was being followed.”
“Need me to run some plates?”
“No. Didn’t get a look at them.”
He’s silent for a second. “Okay. Is there anything I can do?”
Not this time. “Just wanted to let you know I’m not at the house alone. Were you able to find anything out about her being arrested?”
“Nope. Nothing.” He pauses for a second. “You think she might have lied to you about it?”
“She couldn’t have,” I inform him.
“Got it,” he says in understanding. “I’ll keep digging and let you know what I find.”
We say our goodbyes, and I exit the office, going to look for her. I have her right where I want her. In my house, under my roof, she’ll sleep in my bed. Instead of watching her on my computer, I can just walk into my room and see her naked. It’s like handing candy to a baby. Even I can see the red flags, but I can’t not take advantage of them.
I find her on the second story by the railing, staring down into the living room and open kitchen.
I walk up next to her and watch her sigh when she notices me out of the corner of her eye.
“Did you buy this house, or was it your parents?” she inquires.
“You tell me,” I counter. I never asked her how she knew where I lived when I taped her to the chair in her kitchen, but I didn’t have to. I know how she knew. Only one other person knows I have this house, but she hasn’t been here in years.
Charlotte huffs, then pushes off the railing and turns her back to walk away.
“I bought it.” I decide to answer. I don’t need her to be happy with me. I’m still going to get what I want out of her, but it can’t hurt.
Stopping, she turns back to look at me but says nothing, so I continue. “A contractor built it for his wife.”
She frowns. “Then why did he sell it?”
“He caught her cheating with his business partner. He beat him to death.”
Stepping back over to the railing, she asks, “And his wife…what did he do to her?”
“He dragged her to the cathedral, tied her down, and offered her to the Lords.”
She snorts. “Of course he did. Did she survive?”
“No.”
Her hands wrap around the metal as she stares out the floor-to-ceiling windows for a long second. “When a Lord dies, his Lady is regifted.”
For some. My brothers and I are different. “Yes,” I decide to say even though it wasn’t a question.
“What happens to a Lord when his Lady dies?”
“He gets a new one.”