The Sacrifice: A Dark Revenge Romance
The Sacrifice: Chapter 20

It’s almost two in the morning and Blackout is slammed, which surprises me. I really didn’t expect it to get this busy tonight. It looks like last night. Don’t these people have to work tomorrow? Or go to class? It is a party town. Barrington University is a college for kids from all around the world. It costs families millions for their kids to go to college here. It’s full of the elite and the one percent.

I’ve already watched two guys puke in trash cans. One guy had to carry his girlfriend out over his shoulder because she was passed out drunk. I had one table full of guys offer me a line of cocaine. It was right there on the table.

Blackout is known for drugs. If you want to get fucked up, this is where you come. I honestly don’t know how Tyson keeps this place running. The cops have to give him a hard time. Maybe he pays them off, or perhaps they just don’t care because a Lord runs this place.

“Lake?” Bethany yells at me, and I hold in a sigh.

“Yeah?” I ask, approaching her at the server station on the side of the bar.

“Tyson needs to see me upstairs; can you watch my section for me?”

I shouldn’t care that she’s going to be with my husband up in his office. But the first thought that enters my mind is that he’s going to bend her over his desk and fuck her. And then there will be two of us working with Tyson’s cum running out of our pussies.

“Laikyn?” She snaps my name, making me flinch. “Yes or no?”

It’s not like I have a choice, right? If Tyson expects her to be in his office and she doesn’t go, then I’ll be in trouble for keeping her. Then I have to explain to him why I wouldn’t watch her section for her. I nod. “Sure.”

She turns, flipping her hair so it slaps me in the face, and practically runs across the floor to the elevator. My shoulders slump that I care if my husband is cheating on me already. I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised. Lords aren’t faithful. They don’t have to be. Tyson didn’t marry me because he loves me. Only stupid Ladies think their husbands will be faithful.

Our world teaches us to be nothing more than baby factories and sex dolls. And Bethany just asked me to watch her section to make it known that she will be in his office. She wants me watching the clock that Beau has behind the bar. She wants me to be aware if she spends five minutes or thirty with my husband.

“Lake, that table is looking for Bethany,” Beau calls out, lifting his chin behind me.

Picking up my tray, I turn and walk over to the table with three guys and one woman. There are only three chairs, so she’s sitting on one guy’s lap. He’s got one hand wrapped around her throat with her head back while he speaks into her ear. The other rests on her bare thigh that her mini dress shows off. It reminds me of Tyson.

He’s so hands-on that it makes my mind race with all the possibilities of him and Bethany up in his office right now. “What can I get you guys?” I call out over the remix of “Hungry Eyes” by Eric Carmen vibrating the floor under my feet.

He lets go of her, and she lowers her head to look at me. Her heavy blue eyes are unfocused. She’s probably on drugs, or already drunk. They don’t have any drinks on their table, so they have just arrived.

They each give me an order before he slides his hand between her thighs, and she pushes it away. “Can we get another chair?” she asks me over the pounding bass.

I look around quickly. Their table normally has six chairs at it, but others have taken them to accommodate their overcrowded tables. “I’ll see what I can do,” I tell her and walk back over to the bar to place their order.

Once done, I return and give them their drinks, informing her that there are no other chairs at the moment, but I’ll keep an eye out for one.

“It’s fine. You can stay on my lap,” the guy tells her, his hand slipping higher up underneath her dress. She goes to push his hand away, but he grabs her neck with his free hand, yanks her head back to where she must look up at the flashing lights, and lowers his lips to her ear, where he says something to her, making her legs fall open to give him access.

I turn, giving them my back and walking away, planning on coming back to check on them later. My husband is upstairs in his office possibly fucking another woman, so the last thing I want is a visual of what I think they’re doing.

Thirty minutes have gone by, and I hate how pissed I am that I’m still watching her section. The guy and the girl abandoned their friends at their table and are probably fucking in a hallway or the bathroom at this point. He was practically finger fucking her just minutes ago when I checked on them.

I’m standing at the bar, checking Beau’s clock once again, and I look away when I see him catching me.

My body tingles, and my skin feels hot and sweaty. I have no right to be this mad, right? He may be my husband, but he definitely doesn’t belong to me. He never has, so I’m not sure why I think he should now. He wants everyone to know that he owns me, not the other way around.

I turn to go check on the tables once again but stop when I see Bethany walking across the floor toward the server station. She’s fixing her hair up into a high pony and pulls on her leotard. She spots me and winks. “Thanks,” she says, and my hands fist the sides of the tray.

“Did you just fuck my husband?” I turn and demand. I’m not sure why I even asked. Or why I even care. But he’s fucked me like five times in the last forty-eight hours. How much sex can the guy have? I know I’m not an experienced whore, but fuck, I don’t think I’m that bad. It’s not like he allows me any control when it comes to him fucking me. And I have a feeling that Tyson always has to be in control in the bedroom.

She throws her long ponytail over her shoulder, smiling at me. Stepping in, I hold in my breath when she lowers her lips to my ear and speaks over the music. “I’m just doing what your daddy asked me to do.” Then she pulls back and gives me a fuck you smile. “I can’t help it that your husband didn’t turn me down. He loves a woman on her knees with an open mouth.” With that, she picks up her tray and goes to check on her table.

Tears sting my eyes. Why would my father want her to fuck Tyson? To prove that he doesn’t love me? I already know that. Why is he proving it? The Lords won’t care that he’s being unfaithful. I can’t divorce him. I have no fucking choice but to do what he wants when he wants it, so why make him fuck Bethany? In front of me? Why does my father want to make my life more miserable than it already is?

Slamming my tray down on the bar top, I march my ass across the floor and to the elevator. If he’s going to fuck around, I’m going to make sure he’s aware that I know it.

TYSON

I’m sitting at my desk when my wife comes barging in, shoving my door open so hard that it hits the interior wall.

“Your shift isn’t over.” I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

Storming over to my desk, she slaps her hands down on it, glaring at me. I can’t help the smile on my face at her little attitude. It’s cute.

“If you fuck other women, I’m going to fuck other men.”

The smile immediately drops off, and I stand. She pushes off the desk, taking a step back. Her shoulders pulled back, but I watch her swallow nervously. Making my way around the desk, I reach out, grip her fragile neck, not restricting her air just yet, and yank her to me, forcing a gasp from her plump lips.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” I demand, my face so close to hers I can see the fear set into her eyes. Just who the hell does she think she is?

“Why did you marry me?” she asks, her voice much softer this time.

Her pulse races under my fingers. “If I have to ask you again, you’ll answer from your knees,” I growl, tightening my hand around her throat, hoping she understands that I’m referring to her shock collar. I want to know why she has an attitude all of a sudden. Even though I’m hard at the fact she’s jealous of me fucking other women. The fact she wants to fuck another man makes me want to hurt her. Fucking brand my name into her soft, flawless skin so every man who looks at her will know she belongs to me.

Her hands grip my forearms, and she tries to arch her neck to get in a breath, but I don’t allow it. Her red-painted lips open and close before she finally gives up and her hands drop to her sides. I relax my grip just a little but still hold her in place.

“If you … fuck other women … I’m going to fuck other men.” She manages to speak through gasps.

I let go of her, and she steps back, rubbing the sensitive skin and sucking in a deep breath.

“Look at me, Laikyn,” I command.

Her watery eyes snap up to meet mine at the use of her first name, and I step into her. She doesn’t retreat, but she’s lost some of that confidence she had when she entered my office. “If I even think you’re going to fuck another man, I’ll kill him. In front of you. It’ll be slow and painful. You will see his bloody corpse in your dreams for years to come.” She swallows nervously. “And then I’ll make you wish I did the same to you,” I say honestly.

Her eyes narrow, and she lifts her chin. “But you’ll fuck whoever you want?” She slams her hands into my chest, but I don’t budge. “Why did you marry me if you’re going to fuck around? To throw it in my face?” She slams her hands in my chest once again. “Like you did my sister?” her voice rises. “Huh? Just divorce me,” she goes on. “You’ve proven your point.”

I stare at her while she tries to catch her breath. She’s panting, the anger evident all over her pretty face. “Just do us both a favor and divorce me!” she screams.

I grab her arm and yank her forward while spinning her to face my desk. I grab the back of her neck and shove her facedown, making her cry out at my force. “Remove your shorts,” I snap, stepping back and letting go of her.

Reaching behind her, she shimmies out of them while remaining bent over. Her soft cries now filling the room. As they fall to her Vans, I step forward and reach between her shaking legs, undoing the snaps that hold her leotard in place.

“I knew these would come in good use.” I yank the material up to rest on her lower back, giving me a full view of her round ass and fishnet tights. “Hands behind your back and don’t move.”

Sniffing, she does as she’s told while I walk over to my desk. I open up the top drawer and grab what I need before going back to stand behind her. I wrap the zip tie around her wrists, pulling it tight, pinching her skin and making her whimper.

I reach out, grabbing a hold of her fishnets and ripping them over her ass, but allow her to leave her thong on. Then I undo my belt and yank it free of the belt loops on my dress slacks. I double it over and bring it down across her ass, getting to the point.

She screams, her body jerking. Standing to the side of her, I place my hand on her back, shoving her down when she tries to stand. “Count,” I order.

“One,” she cries out.

I let go of her back and do it again a little lower, hitting the top of her thighs this time, right across her fishnets, and they rip a little more.

Her body shakes. “T-wo.”

Whack.

“Th-three.” She’s sobbing, and she’s got several marks from my belt.

Whack.

“Four.”

Whack.

“F-” She hiccups. “Five.”

I drop it, grip her hair, and yank her to her feet. Turning her around, I grab a hold of her hips and pick her up, slamming her red and freshly spanked ass down on the desk.

She cries out, and I grip her chin, stepping between her open legs and forcing her to look up at me. Her makeup smears across her face from her tears. I didn’t plan on hurting her, but she needs to understand I won’t tolerate her attitude. I could have given her ten more, but even I know my limits. She got the point.

“If a Lord divorces his wife, he gets to choose who she is regifted to. Did you know that?”

Her bloodshot eyes widen, and she shakes her head the best she can with my hand gripping her chin. She can’t push me away because her wrists are tied behind her back.

“I can’t hear you,” I growl.

“N-o. I didn’t … know that.” She sniffs, her chest rising and falling quickly with each intake of breath.

“Is that what you want, Lake? Want me to divorce you and hand you over to another Lord of my choosing?”

“No.” She licks her wet lips. “Please. Don’t.”

Although she hates me, she understands that there are way worse Lords out there. Ladies have come up missing, others dead. When a Lord is forced to marry a woman due to their name, rank, or convenience, they tend to get bored. And it’s easier for them just to eliminate them completely.

Letting go of her neck, I run my fingers down her sternum, over her heaving chest. “I think we’ve got something special, Lake. Don’t you?”

She nods quickly, and I refrain from smiling at how well she’ll lie to please me. I’d never give her away, but she doesn’t need to know that. That would defeat the purpose of marrying her in the first place.

Reaching up, I gently push her hair off her shoulders to fall down her back. “Tell me, little darling, are you going to fuck another man?”

“No,” she rushes out.

“Are you going to let another man touch or kiss you?” I go on.

Shaking her head, she sucks in a deep breath. “Only you.”

“And who am I?”

Swallowing, she answers, “My husband.”

Leaning in, I gently kiss her forehead. “Good girl.” Pulling away, I grab her hips once again and pull her off the desk. She bites her bottom lip to keep from whimpering at the movement with her spanked ass. I pull her around my desk and open up the top drawer, grabbing my knife. Flipping it open, I cut through the zip tie. “Go upstairs, shower, and get in bed. I’ll be there soon.”

She goes back to the front of the desk, grabs her shorts, and pulls them up before running out of my office.

Sitting down, I pull up my surveillance and sit back, watching to see what happened tonight for her to get all pissy with me about who I fuck. I come to a spot where I see her talking to Bethany and push play. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Bethany walks off across the dance floor, and I watch Lake take over her section.

Changing cameras, I follow Bethany to see her enter the locker room. I don’t have cameras set up in there, but I fast-forward to see she was in there for almost thirty minutes. When she returns, she goes straight to Lake, and I can tell the moment she comes onto the camera that she already looks pissed. They exchange some words, and then Lake storms off to my office.

I turn it off and sit back. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was said between the two of them. Bethany wants her to think that she was up in my office fucking me. The question is why?

Is Bethany jealous of my wife? I mean, we fucked around, but it was never more than sex. I used her, and she enjoyed it. That was that. Maybe she did it knowing Lake would come up here and be punished. Or maybe she was hoping Lake would find a guy and retaliate. Making me push my wife away so I’d fuck Bethany again.

Making my way down to the first floor, I get off the elevator and go over to the bar while the “S & M” club remix by Rihanna plays as the purple and blue lights flash to the bass.

Beau spots me from behind the main bar and frowns. “Everything okay, boss?” he yells as I approach the server station.

I lean over the counter and holler back, “Have Nicki take over Lake’s section for the rest of the night.”

“Not sure why you even gave her a section to begin with.” I look to my right and see Bethany now standing next to me. She nods to Beau and orders a bottle service for one of her tables.

I decide to keep my mouth shut for now. I want to see how this plays out. I like my wife jealous.

Bethany looks up at me at my silence and adds, “She can’t cut it.” Pressing her side into the bar, she pushes her tits into my face. I’ve never cared about them before, so I’m not sure why she’d think I do now.

“She can.” I decide to say, defending my wife. “But I’d rather have her on her back than working on her feet tonight.”

Her eyes widen at my words for the briefest second before narrowing at my comment.

Beau laughs, handing Bethany her order. I tap the bar top with my knuckles and then turn, walking off and making my way back up to my office.

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