by Chloe Walsh
Die, Ashton.
Kill yourself now.
"You might think you hate me." I sagged against his chest, feeling lightheaded as his erection dug into my back. "I sure as hell know that I hate you, but you need to claim me."
"Why, corderito?" He laughed humorlessly. "Is Jethro so underwhelming that you have to come to his brother?"
Desperate, I nodded.
"You haven't earned my cock, corderito." He chuckled darkly. "Beg."
"Please." Uncaring of how pathetic I sounded, I did exactly as he asked, choosing survival over pride. "Please, fuck me, Trig." Don’t hurt me. I'm scared. Be my Trig. "Claim me."
"And what about Anton?" he demanded accusingly. "Why not run to his oldest prince and beg him for his protection?"
And there it was.
The root of our issues.
"I've never been with Anton," I countered. "I told you –"
"So, it was Jethro you welcomed into your body that night?" he accused. "Or was it Yegor? Forgive me for all of the questions, corderito, but you had so many men in your bed that I am having trouble remembering which one you bled for!"
"None!" I cried out. "If you just let me explain what happened that night –"
"Speak of that night one more time to me and I will follow through on my promises," he warned. "I will kill you, corderito."
A shiver of fear ran through me. "Please, Trig, you have to help me –"
"No," he snarled, hands moving to the straps of my sundress. "Fuck Jethro like you have a thousand times – and every other man you've had behind my back." Dragging the fabric down, he roughly cupped my bare breasts. "Ride his mediocre cock, corderito." He pinched my nipples. "And pretend it is me to get yourself off."
He's close.
Keep pushing.
"Does the thought of him touching me make you mad, Trig?" I lost my ever-loving mind and goaded. "Thinking about your brother pushing himself deep inside of me –"
"You gave him what was mine!" he roared, ripping my dress clean off my body, leaving me in nothing but my panties. "So, return to my brother and jiggle your small tits in his face. Make him lose his mind for you because –" Snarling, he shoved me forward and pressed me face down on his table. "You are worthless to me now."
He was saying the words, meaning them, too, but his actions were all that I cared about. And his actions called him a liar as he thrust himself against me, grinding his hard erection against the fabric of my plain cotton panties.
"Good girl panties on a whore," he mused, snatching the wad of cash from my hip and tossing it on the table.
Dragging my panties down my hips, he gripped me tightly, his long callous fingers digging into my ass so hard that I knew he was marking me.
My body weakened at the notion – the side of me drawn to all things dark and debauchery reveled in the pain he was inflicting.
"Has he had this?" Pushing my cheeks apart, he trailed his thumb over my tight hole. "Did you give him my ass, corderito?"
His ass. "You left me, Trig," I moaned as a mixture of fear and lust exploded inside of me. My thighs trembled and I tried to push them together to soothe the ache, but he wouldn't let me. "You gave me to him," I breathed, rocking my hips. "You left me here." Keep going, Ashton. "It's his ass now." If you don’t stop them.
"Whore!" Roughly spearing my legs apart, he fisted my hair and tugged hard enough to snap my head up. "Do you think you can play me?" He spat on the table, narrowly avoiding me, and released his hold on my head, causing my face to smack against the wood. "Do you think you can mind fuck me into taking this second-hand pussy back?" Gripping my hip with one hand, he slipped his free hand between my legs. "I taught you everything you know, you little fool." Finding my throbbing clit, he teased me with soft strokes before abruptly stepping back, releasing me. "And you failed me."
"No!" Furious from the lack of contact, I swung around to glare at him. "You're failing me."
"You disappointed me," he added coldly, watching me with hard, cruel eyes. "Enjoy your initiation with Jethro and whoever wants a turn at you tonight. Be sure to scream, sweetheart. Put on a show for the old man. I am sure that it will not be difficult for a whore like yourself." Sneering, he added, "You certainly had me fooled for years."
"Trig –"
"Out," he commanded. He gathered up my clothes but made no move to give them back. "We are done talking, corderito."
"I'm naked," I reminded him, shivering.
"I can see," he sneered. "Another disappointment. Now, get the fuck out."
"My clothes?"
"Whores do not need clothes," he deadpanned. "Now get out."
My gaze flickered to the bulge in his pants.
He wants you, dammit.
Badly.
Narrowing my eyes, I flicked my gaze back to him. "You're bluffing," I challenged. "You won't make me walk out of here naked."
"Won't I?"
Don’t cry, Ashton. "You're not that heartless."
"I do not have a heart, remember?" he replied coldly. "Never existed."
"You love me," I bit out. "Admit it."
"Love you?" His eyes bulged. "Oh, corderito, you are so fucking mistaken." Thoroughly enraged, Trig walked over to the window at the far end of the room. Pushing it open, he tossed my clothes out and swung back to face me. "Now, walk out that door while you still can, or join your clothes on the asphalt. Although, I must warn you, I doubt you will survive the drop."
"No." Refusing to roll over and die like I did the last time we were standing in this position, I hissed, "You're bluffing. I know you love me, Trigger Laperro. You've loved me your whole life. Be the bigger man here," I begged. "Open your eyes to the truth of what really happened that night." Blinking my tears back, I whispered, "Save me like you promised you would."
Glowering, he folded his arms across his chest. "Those promises are null and void."
"No," I sobbed, feeling weak. "You can't say that –"
"Your doing, not mine," he hissed. "Now leave me!"
"I can't," I strangled out, shivering violently now. "You know what they'll do to me." Sniffling, I hurried to close the space between us. "I'm begging you." Dropping to my knees, I clutched his forearm. "Claim me."
"You are his," he bit out, voice torn, yanking his arm free. "I cannot claim what has been marked."
"I'm not his," I screamed, loud enough to wake the dead, as I wrestled to cling to his hand. "I'm yours." Sniffling, I scrambled on my knees after him when he tried to step away. "I'm yours, Trig. I always have been. You have to stop this –"
"Well, you are the last person I expected to see tonight." A terrifyingly familiar voice acknowledged, and my blood turned to ice in my veins. "Have you come to watch her initiation, Trigger?"
Freezing on the mortal spot, I clung to his hand and clenched my eyes shut, praying for divine intervention.
If Trigger Laperro was the prince of darkness and Jethro was the prince of light, then the man standing in front of me was Lucifer himself.
Fabio Crellid.
Their leader.
Their father.
My living nightmare.
Fabio stood in the doorway, looking more imposing than ever. "The last time we spoke, you were adamant that you wanted nothing to do with her. If I recall correctly, you gave her to your brother." A faint smile ghosted his lips. "Have you changed your mind, son?" Malice glimmered in his cold eyes. "Has the bastard prince returned home to claim his whore queen?"
Pain; it was more potent than the oxygen filling my lungs. Queasy, I blew out a pained breath and tightened my hold on Trig's hand.
Please, Trig.
Get me out of here…
"Nothing has changed," Trigger replied, ripping his hand free and stepping away from me. "He is welcome to her."
2
"No!" A pained sob escaped me and I dropped my hands to the floor, head bowed, hope lost, painful memories bombarding me. "Trig."
"Jethro!" Fabio Crellid barked, calling his son to h
im. "Looks like you have a problem, son."
Moments later, the sound of Jet's voice filled my ears. "Ashton." His tone was gentle and laced with disappointment. "Get off the floor."
Sniffling, I climbed to my feet and turned to face him. I wasn't afraid of what Jet would do to me. We'd been friends all through childhood, and I knew in my heart that he wasn't a bad man. I should have been grateful that he was willing to claim me, that he had managed to delay my initiation by an extra year, but I couldn't be. Because I was afraid of his weakness – a weakness in direct contrast with the relentless strength and dominance that oozed from his older half-brother.
Jet's weakness terrified me. His need to please his father. His inability to command and control. His soft heart. He was not the man to be tied to in this world.
In a world where the male gender reigned supreme, a woman needed to find her alpha. Jet, as much as his father willed him to be, would never be the alpha son. He was the kind of man who would allow terrible things to happen to his woman and then try to soften the betrayal with gifts and smiles.
When the chips were down, Jethro Crellid could not and would not protect me.
He was useless to me.
"Naughty girl, Ashton," Fabio mused, stroking his jaw. His cold, dead, blue eyes trailed down my naked body and I saw a mild hint of interest in those soulless depths. "I think she needs to be taken care of sooner than expected, Jethro," he announced with a jerk of his chin. "Let the initiation begin."
"You cannot be serious!" I heard Trig snap. "She cannot be initiated – wait, dammit!"
Too little too late, Trig.
Fabio's henchmen manhandled me through the adjoining door and into the king's lair. I knew the man was evil. I'd known it all my life, which was why, when my eyes landed on the woman strapped to the bed in the middle of his dimly lit lair, I didn’t bat an eyelid.
This is it, Ashton.
This is the day you die.
Let your mind slip.
You won't need it after today.
Three men entered the woman in all of her openings as several of Fabio's associates stood around watching. They were spreading her, testing her, preparing her for work.
I, of course, would not be working for Fabio. My father's name both saved me from that fate and thrust me into a far worse one. A high-born woman would serve the men of The Order by bearing their heirs.
In other words; shut up, look pretty, and pop out their high-born spawn until they grow tired of your body and dispose of you.
It's your time, Ashton, I tried to console myself. It's been your time for years now. You're nineteen. You're older than most of the girls that have passed through this room. You're a grown woman now. An adult. Let them all do what they want to you here and then it's just Jet. Jet won't abuse you. Be brave.
I knew the only reason that I wasn't on this table with all these men thrusting into my holes was Jet. Sweet, lovable, useless Jet who had swooped in and picked up the pieces when Trigger cast me aside. Heir to this hell and pride and joy of this devil. Jet delayed my initiation for as long as he could, but I knew he wouldn't protect me in here. I had a virgin pussy and Jet's flavor was cock. Forbidden for the son of a Crellid, the desire to keep his secrets and please his father would surpass his desire to protect me.
When he came to stand beside my trembling body, Jet's eyes were locked on the cock being thrust in and out of the woman's mouth. He licked his lips, expression hungry, and I knew I was in trouble.
"Enough," Fabio barked and the men immediately stopped fucking the woman. Like well trained dogs, all three men and the lone woman climbed off the bed and trailed out of the room.
Whores.
The men.
The woman.
They were all whores.
Puppets to the mad king of drugs, death, and fucking.
The room was filled with men from The Order. Fabio's associates and heavies. Bad men.
Another incline of Fabio's head had me obediently walking over to the bed, naked as the day I was born.
I knew what would happen if I didn’t.
He would take me for himself and that was a fate worse than Jet.
"No," Trig's panicked voice came from somewhere behind me. "This is not happening in front of these pricks."
"Leave, Trigger," his father commanded. "Go find yourself a whore to entertain you for the night. You are far too attached to something that isn’t yours anymore to stay here and witness."
Something.
I wasn't a person.
I was a something.
"But she is not intact!" Trigger bellowed, charging into the room, ignoring the dozens of pairs of curious eyes that landed on him. "He already took her. You know this. It is why I –" His words broke off and he drew in a deep, shuddering breath before continuing, "That makes her initiation null and void! You cannot do this –"
"I can do whatever the hell I damn well please!" Fabio roared back at him, before turning his attention to the youngest brother. "Is Trigger correct, Jethro? Has she bled for you, son?" he asked when I climbed onto the bed. "Have you broken her in? Made her yours?"
"Yes," Jet declared, causing to Trigger to groan in what sounded like physical pain, and me to swing my glare on him.
Fuck.
I had no hope with this man.
He couldn’t keep himself alive, never mind a woman.
"Which is why Trigger is right about the initiation being null and void," he continued, surprising me. "I won't take Ashton in front of you, father." He swallowed deeply. "She is not for show."
"If she is yours and she has truly bled for you, then you should have no problem fucking her," his father snapped. "Come, Jethro, and show your brother just how good his whore queen feels around your cock."
A pained whimper tore from my throat and I heard him snarl. "Do not do this. Fabio, she is not a toy –"
"Shut up or get out," his father roared. "You have no say in my house, bastard. Remember your role!"
"She is your best friend's daughter," Jethro offered weakly.
“Exactly,” Trigger continued, tone as hard as his father's. "Show his memory some respect."
"The same respect she showed you?" Fabio laughed. "Foolish fucking boy."
"She has already bled for me years ago," Jet announced. "The whole point of an initiation is for a virgin high-born to conceive an heir. I've already taken her virginity, so this is pointless."
"Hear that, Trigger?" Fabio laughed. "Your bitch bled for your brother years ago."
A pained snarl erupted from Trig and he flashed a look of pure betrayal in my direction. It was a look that was so full of pain and hatred that I felt what was left of my heart wither up and die.
He's lying, I wanted to scream, he's only saying this to protect me, but it wouldn’t do me any good.
"You know the rules of the code, Jethro," Fabio continued, tone hard and unyielding. "You wanted Ashton for your own when your brother had a change of heart. You intend to marry her and have her take our name. If she was any other man's daughter, I would have her thrown in the ocean and fed to the sharks for the discord she caused between my sons. But she's Royce's blood, therefore, I will allow this pairing. But my patience is wearing thin, boy. You know the rules, you've seen how this works, so, fuck the girl, son –" His hands moved to his belt. "Or I'll show you how to." His eyes narrowed. "And you know what happens if I find her innocent." Another pained growl from Trig. "The cock she bleeds on, the cock she belongs to."
A trickle of fear rushed through me.
I had seen what Fabio did to girls.
I had seen the blood.
Heard the screams.
"Father –"
"Fuck her or I'll do it," his father snarled and I clenched my eyes shut. "Take her now, son, or I'll keep her for myself. She'll be a nice addition to my personal whores. The only child of the mighty Royce Northwood is bound to one of my son's – a vow I made to my oldest friend – so show me you're worthy of such a prize."
"Who contests?" Fabio asked the question I had been dreading. "Rather pointless all things considered, but code of The Order never the less. Who will fight my son to claim her?"
Several of the men from The Order stepped forward.
Repulsion swept through me.
Close your eyes, Ashton.
It will be over soon.
"No, it can only be me," Jet argued weakly, his poor attempt at protecting me. "Ashton is mine."
"You know the code," Fabio interjected. "Every man in this room has a right to contest – to claim her for their own."
I could hear the unravelling of clothes as one of Fabio's heavies loomed over me. His huge hand clamped down on my small breast, roughly pinching my nipple while another heavy strapped my hands to the headboard.
Another man leering by my hips plunged a thick finger into my pussy. "She's tight." He grunted his approval. Forcing myself not to resist, I let my legs fall open. "Shaved pussy," he added, like they couldn't already see that I was bare. "Wet."
"Step the fuck down," Trig warned, his voice a vicious snarl, and my frozen heart thawed in my chest. "Any man to lay his hands on her flesh will die roaring. You want someone to contest him, padre? Is that what you need? To make this sick fucking show more entertaining for you?" Trig snarled, hands moving to his knife belt as he stepped forward. "Fine. I contest." His dark eyes flicked to mine and I could see the burning resentment mixed with guilt and pain. "You win, puta.” He stepped closer, brandishing a shiny dagger. "Again."
"You gave her up a long time ago, Trigger." His father sounded amused. "You begged me to take her back, remember? When your baby brother took what was yours for his own. And still, you try to protect her? How very noble of you."
"I said that I would fuck her, not marry her," Trig replied flatly. "You want someone to contest and I am that someone." Pain clouded his features for the briefest moment before his anger quickly consumed him once more. "Besides, she already gave herself to him."
"What are you doing, Trig?"
