Page 21

Haven

Colton brings me back to the loft, which is furnished with a couple couches, an armchair, and a TV. It feels stupid to have two living spaces so close to each other, but maybe it’s a rich people thing.

“My homework shouldn’t take too long, but first…” Colton smirks. “Strip.”

I jerk my head back. “What?”

“Strip,” he repeats, his voice laced with impatience.

It takes more effort than it should to keep my jaw from dropping. Mere seconds ago, Colton was soothing me in his bedroom, and now, he’s back to objectifying me. I should probably expect his mind games and the mental whiplash he seems to enjoy giving me, but this is so abrupt that I feel off-balance.

It stings a little, too. Was he only comforting me so we could get back to this without me falling into another panic attack?

Of course that’s what this is, I scold myself. He doesn’t care about you.

“Do I really need to tell you a third time?” Colton asks harshly.

Terror surges through me, and I stumble away from him. “What are you going to do?”

He catches me with his hand around my throat. “Whatever the fuck I want to. That’s the deal, remember?”

“If you want me to get you off, I can just give you a blow job. I don’t have to—Colton!”

He yanks my tank top down to expose my breasts. My nipples immediately harden at the exposure to the cool air—or, god, maybe they already were hard. He rolls one of them between two fingers, smirking at the way my breath hitches.

Fuck. My nipples have always been so sensitive that sometimes I wonder if I could come just from touching them and nothing else. How the hell did he know that?

“I don’t want to get off. I want my new toy to be the obedient pet I know it can be. And right now, I want it on display for me to look at, like a pretty doll on a shelf.”

Blinking slowly, I stare up at Colton in shock. It registers in my brain that he’s talking about me, but…

“It?” I ask weakly.

He nods. “A toy is an object. That’s all you are now.”

My cheeks burn, but my retort turns into a choked moan as he brushes the pads of his thumbs over both my nipples at the same time.

“You’re nothing more than a pair of tits and three holes to be fucked. A pretty fleshlight, but a fleshlight nonetheless.” Colton squeezes my breasts like he’s testing them out, evaluating if they’re up to his standards.

I’ve never felt so dehumanized in my life.

But, I suppose, that’s the point.

“Strip,” he repeats softly. “You know you have to.”

My self-preservation instincts take over, and I pull my tank top over my head. My shorts come next, and just when I’m hoping he’ll let me keep my panties on, he slides them down my legs himself.

Goddammit.

“Now get in the corner.”

Colton doesn’t give me a chance to defy him. With his hands on my shoulders, he guides me so I’m standing next to the TV. I’m facing the couches, completely on display, just like he said.

There are a few things laid out on the coffee table, and Colton grabs one of them and slowly walks back over to me. It’s not until he’s fastening the black leather strap around my neck that I realize it’s a collar. It fits snugly against my skin, and Colton gives the metal ring in the center of it a tug, smiling.

“Looks just as pretty as I thought it would.”

All I do is glare at him.

Next, Colton takes a light pink box from the coffee table and opens it to reveal a pair of black heels. He sets the box next to my feet and removes the right heel.

Oh, fuck no. I fight the urge to move backward. “You can’t be serious. That’s disgus—”

“Step into it.”

“I could kick you in the face right now.”

“Step into it, angel.”

I slide my foot into the heel.

Gently, Colton does up the straps around my ankle. When he’s done, his large hand travels up my calf, and goosebumps form on my skin in its wake. “Good girl. Now, the other.”

Speechless, I step into the left heel and watch him do the same thing. I wonder if he’s doing this because he likes it, or if it’s purely to degrade me. With Colton, I can never be sure.

“Hands behind your back,” he says as he straightens and pulls a pair of handcuffs from his pocket.

My subconscious mind must’ve accepted that this is happening because I listen without protest. Colton moves behind me, and he leaves a trail of slow kisses down my neck and upper back before pulling my wrists together. It pushes my breasts out, putting them on display even more than they already were.

The metal of the handcuffs is cold against my skin, and the sound they make as he tightens them has my hair standing on end. This is yet another tactic to chip away at my humanity. First, he made me an object. Now, he’s making me a defenseless one.

Colton turns away and picks up the last thing on the coffee table. I was too flustered and pissed off to notice it before, but now my mouth goes dry at the sight of the long, silver pole.

A spreader bar.

I’ve never actually seen one in person. I secretly read a few of the romance books Athelia brought with her to school, and a spreader bar was mentioned in one of them. I had no idea what it was, and I was too embarrassed to ask, so I looked up pictures of it on my tablet.

Since then, I’ve wondered what it would be like to find myself in one of those. I assumed it’d never happen, considering I can’t manage to get past my aversions around sex, but now I don’t have a choice.

“Spread your legs,” he commands as he steps closer. When I do without a fight, he smiles. “Good.”

He kneels in front of me and wraps the leather straps around my left ankle, and then my right. The buckles keep them secure, and with my hands cuffed behind my back, there’s no way I could undo them myself.

Colton takes a step back to appraise his handiwork. His eyes travel up and down my body, lingering on my breasts and my exposed pussy. He isn’t even touching me, but I feel violated. Stripped of any dignity. Debased.

Still looking me over, Colton slowly circles me, stopping when he’s behind me. I gasp when he squeezes my ass. I can’t hit him, can’t fight him, can’t run from him.

I’m completely, utterly powerless.

“What are you?” he asks, and a tingly feeling shoots through my body at his warm breath tickling my ear.

“A… human?”

“Mmm, wrong answer. Try again.”

“A person.”

Colton reaches around me, and when he catches my nipples between his fingers this time, he isn’t gentle. He squeezes so hard that I buckle over from the pain. It’s agonizing, and he doesn’t let up while he forces me to stand up straight.

“Try again.”

My eyes close as shame twists in my gut. “I’m a toy.”

“Go on.”

“I’m… an object.”

“And?”

“Colton—”

“Say it,” he growls.

“A fleshlight.”

“And I believe there was one more thing I said?”

“I’m nothing more than a pair of tits and three holes.”

“Good. Now all at once.”

“Colton, this is ridi— fuck!” I try to squirm out of his hold as he pinches my nipples again, using his nails this time.

“All at once,” he grits out.

“I—I’m an object. A toy for your pleasure. I’m nothing more than a pair of tits and three holes for you to fuck.” Tears prick my eyes. “A living, breathing fleshlight.”

“I knew you could do it.” His voice is proud, and he pats my head like I’m a fucking dog.

With that, Colton moves back to the couch and opens his laptop. He completely ignores me while he begins typing. After a few minutes, he stops, and I realize he’s reading something on his screen. He writes something every once in a while, like he’s taking notes.

Studying for a test, maybe? Doing research for a paper? I’m not sure.

I should’ve told him I had homework to do.

But that could’ve backfired. He could’ve found out I was lying, and then he would’ve punished me somehow. Not that this doesn’t feel like a punishment.

My feet begin to ache pretty quickly, and I shift from foot to foot. I feel so pathetic that I want to scream. Colton has always been good at this—at twisting me up inside until I hate myself almost as much as he hates me.

Finally, Colton lifts his eyes. He watches me for a few seconds before smirking. “I think I’ll do this at least once a week from now on. You look so fucking beautiful like this, angel.”

“I hate—”

“Ah ah, I wouldn’t say that.” He leans back, his arms spread out on the cushions behind him. With the amount of confidence he has, he almost looks like a god. “Wouldn’t want me to clamp those pretty nipples, would you? Hmm, or your clit.”

“Clamp them? What the hell are you talking about?”

His smirk widens, a predatory glint in his eyes. “God, how did someone like you manage to stay so innocent? You’ll let any man use your body, yet you still know so little about what can be done to it.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just glare at him. Whatever he’s talking about doesn’t sound comfortable. In fact, it sounds just the opposite, and I’d prefer not to experience that today.

“Yeah, I figured that would get you to shut up.”

I bite my tongue to keep myself from snapping at him. He wants me submissive, and I have plenty of practice being just that. I may have hated it, but this isn’t the same. This is temporary, and Colton doesn’t subscribe to the beliefs that Cornerstone upholds.

I’m not his wife. I’ll never be the mother of his children. I’m not the one who cooks his meals, cleans his house, and picks up after him as if he’s an irresponsible teenager.

It’s not the same, I tell myself again. And you only have to endure it until Isaiah fucks off.

A chill settles over me after what I think is probably fifteen minutes. Colton said he turned the thermostat up, but the bastard must’ve lied because my skin is covered in goosebumps.

“It’s freezing in here,” I say through clenched teeth.

Colton flicks his eyes in my direction. “I brought it up to seventy.”

“There’s absolutely no way that’s true. I’m covered in goosebumps!”

“I really couldn’t care less, angel,” he says with an annoyed sigh.

“Is this how you treat the other women in your life? Your girlfriends?”

He scoffs. “You are not my girlfriend.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Colton stands so abruptly that I jump. He drops his laptop onto the couch and stalks over to me, his jaw set.

Oh, shit.

“I didn’t—”

He grips my throat and stares down at me with a fire in his eyes that should scare me. But all I can focus on is how tiny I feel compared to him. Even with me in heels, he still towers over me, and it has that tingly feeling shooting through me again. Except this time, instead of moving throughout my entire body, it goes straight to my clit. The sensation is so intense that for a moment, I think he touched me there, but his free hand is balled into a fist at his side.

There’s a part of me that’s always craved feeling small like this—that’s always wanted to let a man have complete control over me once I got past my fears around sex. It’d require more trust than I’ve ever given anyone in my life, but the desire has haunted all my fantasies.

I want to feel helpless.

I want to feel vulnerable.

I want to obey, and in exchange, be taken care of.

Just not at Colton’s hands. I may have hurt him, but what he’s done in return is far past any normal semblance of justice. Now, he’s hurting me for the fun of it.

I can never trust him. Never.

“You don’t ask the questions,” he growls. “I do, and you answer them, plain and simple. If you don’t, there will be consequences. And—”

“Let me guess,” I say dryly. “I should only speak when I’ve been spoken to?”

He laughs, the sound brutal and sharp. “You couldn’t manage that for a single day even if you wanted to. Too mouthy for your own good.”

“I—” My voice is cut off when he tightens his hold on my throat. He’s barely putting any pressure on my windpipe, but panic takes over anyway, and all I can do is let out a pathetic, helpless sound of distress.

“Don’t interrupt me again,” he grits out. “The next time you do, you’ll find yourself bound and gagged in a matter of minutes. Do you understand?”

My stomach drops. “Y-yes.”

“Good. Now please, for the love of god, shut the fuck up. Even you can manage that for a while.” He removes his hand from my throat and moves back to the couch.

Even though he was barely touching me, I miss the heat that radiated from his body to mine. I’m so cold I’m practically shivering.

The coolness intensifies between my legs, which strikes me as odd. There aren’t any vents in this corner, and even if there were, they’d be putting out warm air, not cold. I don’t know what it could be at first, but then it dawns on me with horrifying clarity.

Oh no. Oh my god, no.

That sensation on my pussy isn’t from cool air blowing on it, nor is it from how cold it is in here. It’s because somehow, some sick, stupid part of me is enjoying this.

My bully for the past three years has me naked, collared, and with my legs forced apart for his viewing pleasure, and I’m getting wet from it.

I blink back tears of shame as Colton resumes his typing. I can’t cry, goddammit. If I do, he’ll notice me sniffling, and he’ll make fun of me. Or worse, he’ll scold me for it and think it’s a good enough excuse to punish me.

Desperately, I grasp for anything to distract myself with. My mind lands on the first happy memory it can find—a movie marathon weekend with Athelia during our freshman year. She found out I’d never heard of the Disney princesses—because of course I hadn’t—so we spent a whole Saturday and Sunday watching through their movies.

No. No, wait.

My heart breaks as I remember we’d decided to spend the weekend holed up in our dorm together to escape our bullies. It was a fun time, but it’s tainted by my fear of Colton, Lucas, and Xander. To be honest, most things that have to do with Pemberton are.

Any time we went out, no matter how hard we tried to hide, one of them always found us. Sticking together helped some—they were much more tame if they had a witness—but it was still humiliating. The only thing that kept us going was knowing that the second we graduated, we’d be free of them.

“Open your mouth,” Colton orders without looking up from his laptop.

His voice startles me, and I stare at him silently. What? Open my mouth? For what purpose?

Colton glances at me—to make sure I obeyed, I realize—and raises an eyebrow. “Now, slut.”

Hesitantly, I open my mouth. My mind spirals into thoughts of disgust, not just at Colton, but at myself. Because I’m letting this happen. I’m letting him degrade me. Letting him treat me like a thing instead of a human.

“Stick your tongue out, too.”

I groan. “Isn’t this already humiliating enough?”

“I decide that, not you. Now stick your fucking tongue out and keep it there.”

As I do, I go back to the only thing that’s given me hope over the years.

It’s only temporary.

It’s only temporary.

It’s only temporary.

Colton resumes typing away on his laptop. It feels stupid to have me standing here like this when he’s barely even looking at me, but I don’t dare move. I have my tongue out as far as it can go, too terrified of what Colton will do if he looks up and finds my mouth closed.

It doesn’t take long for my jaw to begin to ache, or for drool to drip down my chin and onto my chest. It only makes me more cold, but my mind is going numb, anyway. It’s the only way I can get through the humiliation.

By the time Colton closes his laptop, I don’t think I’m even feeling the pain anymore. It’s like my body has shut down to its most basic functions in a futile effort to protect whatever shred of dignity I still have left.

When I feel Colton’s hand on my calf, I look down in surprise. I remember him standing, but not him walking over to me. He’s gently undoing the straps on the spreader bar, and when he’s done, he sets it aside and stands.

“You’re dripping onto my floor,” he whispers before placing a lingering kiss right below my ear.

What?

I glance down to realize that a clear, glistening thread of my desire is dangling from in between my legs. There’s a spot on the floor where some of it has gathered, and my cheeks burn at the sight. There’s no denying the reaction my body had to this.

“Look at me.”

There’s something especially horrifying about making eye contact with Colton while drool is falling from my open mouth, but I find the strength to do it. His smile is one of victory. I’ve seen it before, but never when he had this much power over me. Now, his intentions are clear in the dark way he’s staring down at me.

He wants to devastate me so thoroughly that when he’s finished, there’s nothing of me left.

Colton hasn’t given me permission to close my mouth yet, and I’m too scared to ask if I can. So when he pulls me out of the corner, I stumble forward wordlessly.

“On your knees.”

I drop down and look up at him. My assumption is that he’s going to pull his dick out, so when he grabs my hair and shoves my face to the floor, I yelp in surprise.

“Clean up the mess you made.”

This close to it, there’s no way to ignore the small pool of my desire on the floor. My entire body heats with embarrassment. How could I get turned on from this? How do I want more? And why was there a small part of me that was ready and willing to let Colton fuck my mouth?

I can’t want this. Not from him. Never from him.

“Now, you fucking whore.”

Colton’s hand in my hair is replaced with a foot on the back of my neck. He doesn’t put much weight on me, just enough to push me down the rest of the way.

Hands clenched behind my back, I lick up my desire. It’s tangy and a little bitter, mixed with the taste of the finish on the wood flooring. Only when I’m done does Colton let me up.

“Open your mouth.”

I do, grimacing when he spits into it. Even though it disgusts me, I force myself to swallow.

“What are you?” he asks.

Eyes squeezing shut, I whisper, “Please don’t do this.”

He pulls my hair tighter, harder. “Say it. All of it.”

This time, I can’t stop my tears from streaming down my face. “I’m an object. I’m your toy. I—I—” The words get stuck in my throat as Colton gropes my breasts.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“I’m your personal fleshlight,” I whisper. “Nothing more than a pair of tits and holes.”

He drags me in front of the TV so all I can see is the two of us reflected in the black screen. “Now say it again, this time to yourself.”

I look at myself—at my glistening cheeks and drool-soaked breasts, at the collar fastened around my neck, at Colton hovering over me, holding me upright. Like this, I really do look like everything he says I am.

“Don’t make me tell you again, angel.”

“You’re an object,” I tell my reflection, voice wavering. “You’re a sex toy. You’re a fleshlight. All… all you are is a pair of tits and a set of warm holes to fuck. You’re… you’re a whore.”

Colton kisses my temple, and the soft gesture makes my chest ache. “Good girl.” When he straightens, he makes eye contact with my reflection and pets my hair. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

I take a quick shower, and the hot water warms me up some. Using Colton’s shampoo and soap is yet another reminder that, for the foreseeable future, he owns me. I’m pretty sure he’s forcing me to use his stuff as yet another way to strip me of any sense of self I have left. It kills me that, somehow, he’s already managed to do it.

At least his lotion doesn’t have a scent to it, so I slather it on while trying to scrounge up even an ounce of dignity.

Once I’m dressed, I step out of Colton’s bathroom. He’s sitting in an armchair in a corner with a book. A black cat is sitting in his lap, and he’s absentmindedly stroking it while reading. I go still as the years-long worry that Colton abandoned her disappears.

“Star,” I whisper, and my heart squeezes painfully.

Lazily, Colton looks up. When he sees the look of relief on my face, his hand stops on Star’s back. “What, did you think I’d throw her out of the house or something?”

“You’re a horrible person, Colton. You can’t blame me for worrying what you’d do to her.”

“I would never abandon an animal like that.”

“No,” I say softly, but my anger still bleeds through. “Just your friends.”

“A traitor isn’t a friend.”

Star hops off Colton’s lap and meanders over to me. Kneeling, I hold out my hand and let her sniff it, only petting her after she licks at my palm a few times.

“I was trying to make sure you didn’t die,” I mutter under my breath.

But, of course, Colton hears.

“You knew not to believe a damn thing that came out of Mark’s mouth,” he snaps.

“I told him because I cared about you. Why do you refuse to see that?”

“Because you obviously didn’t.” He closes the book and stands. “If you cared, you would’ve called me the second Mark left.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses again. You can say you cared all you want, but your actions didn’t match up with that.”

“I was scared! All I could think was that there was at least a slim possibility that Mark was telling the truth. That you were actually in over your head. It wasn’t worth the risk of losing you. I’m sorry for how things turned out, really, I am, but I did what I thought was best.”

“It wasn’t good enough.”

I bristle. “Well, maybe if you’d explained what was in the briefcase, then I would’ve understood why I needed to keep my mouth shut.”

“Why was it so hard to just fucking trust us?” he shouts.

The anger in his voice clings to my skin before sinking deep. Just like that, I’m hyper-aware of every movement Colton makes, every breath he takes.

“Colton,” I say, keeping my voice soft and placating, “I know you’re hurt, but I promise—”

His laugh is sharp, bitter. “Hurt? No, angel. The hurt passed years ago. This?” He gestures to himself, to the tense way he’s holding himself and the dark look on his face. “This is hatred.”

I don’t think I believe him.

“It’s all for you,” he continues, his voice venomous, “and it’s well deserved.”

Star nudges my hand, and I realize I stopped petting her when Colton shouted. I start up again, sliding my fingers over her soft fur.

If Colton could just be reasonable for five minutes, maybe we could get somewhere. Despite everything he and the guys have done to me, I still miss them. I fell into such a deep and trusting friendship with them so fast, and it still feels like there’s a hole in my chest from when they cut me off.

“Well, I disagree,” I mutter as I drop my gaze to Star. She’s purring under my touch. It’s a glimmer of happiness in a world full of nothing but pain.

Colton releases a frustrated breath and stalks toward me. He raises the hardcover in his hand, and I flinch instinctively. All he does is place it back on the shelf, and I kick myself for reacting like that. I’m sure it’ll only piss him off more.

But he doesn’t yell again. All he does is stare at the line of books, a mix of memoirs and biographies. His jaw clenches before he finally says, “I would never hit you, Haven. Not like that.”

My spine straightens on instinct. “What do you mean, not like that?”

Colton’s gaze returns to me, and it roams over my face slowly. He’s thinking. Weighing his options. Deciding how much he wants to reveal to me. “Sometimes, pain is needed.”

“And let me guess, you’re the one who gets to decide when that is?”

“Well, considering you almost got raped, kidnapped, and run over by a car last night—all by three different men—I’d say you’re not fit to make any decisions about your wellbeing.”

“I didn’t almost—” But then I clamp my mouth shut.

Aaron wasn’t going to rape me. Despite what Colton thinks he saw, when I told Aaron to stop, he did. But Colton is right, just not in the way he thinks he is. If Isaiah had gotten his hands on me, it would’ve happened. Probably not immediately, but eventually.

“What you need is determined by me, Xander, and Lucas now. That’s part of our agreement—us taking care of you.”

“You hitting me doesn’t sound like it fits in with that,” I grind out.

“It does.” He traces his fingers along my jawbone with a deceptively soft touch. “You’ll understand soon. Unless you choose to cooperate, that is.”

“Is it really cooperation if I’m coerced into it?”

Colton shrugs. “All I care about is getting what I want from you. And trust me, I will.”

A shudder rolls through me. He’s telling the truth. Not just because he means it, but because he can back it up. Colton knows how to manipulate me into doing whatever he wants. Even when I try to fight against him, he always wins.

Crouching in front of me, Colton clasps his hands together. “Now, tell me the truth. Did he hurt you often?”

“Who?”

He gives me an impatient look that says don’t play dumb with me. “The man chasing you last night.”

“I told you, I don’t know him.”

Silently, Colton stares at my hand as it travels across Star’s back. “Careful, angel. I already have little patience where you’re concerned. Trying it is risky on your part.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

His mouth curves upward in a terrifying smile. “Fine. Just remember, little traitor. Your actions have consequences.”