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I gather my spit and wet my fingers before I coat my dick with the saliva, then I repeat the motion and slide my fingers through Taylee’s folds.

She doesn’t move immediately, her body rigid and stiff, that is, until I start stroking her clit. I can’t look back at Avah, my guilt consuming me in a way that it’s never done before. I cheated on Savanna often and never once felt even an ounce of guilt, but this feels like the worst kind of betrayal.

Inhaling a deep breath, I guide my cock toward Taylee’s entrance and slowly bury myself inside of her. Sliding my hand around her hip, my fingers find her clit again and I stroke.

“Look at Avah, Orson. I want you to see her come on my fingers,” he growls.

With a grunt, I swing my head around and look at Avah. She has tears forming in her eyes, but they don’t fall. Gripping Taylee’s hip with my free hand, I slowly fuck her, sliding in and out of her warmth, my gaze never leaving Avah’s.

My strokes stay slow, my fingers building Taylee up and bringing her closer toward the edge, closer and closer with each thrust of my cock and every swirl of my fingers. I’m close, so is she, and judging by the way Avah’s chest rises and falls with her panting breaths, so is she.

I thrust harder and harder, my gaze never leaving Avah’s and I hope that she sees the apology in my gaze when Taylee comes and a few strokes later, so do I. Avah lets out a cry, her body trembling as her orgasm is pulled from her as well.

“Pull out,” Walsh demands.

I do, not looking between Taylee’s legs, not looking anywhere but in Avah’s eyes. A single tear falls, but no more. She gives me a small nod and an even smaller ghost of a smile before Walsh jerks her chin down to focus on the bed.

“Look at his cum leaking out of her body, Avah. He is not yours. He will never be yours again. Now lick that cum from her cunt. It’ll be your last taste of him. Savor it and you better make her come on your tongue.”

Fuck me, that shit should be hot, but it’s not. It’s just fucking sad, so goddamn sad. I hear Walsh moving around the room and then glance over to him. He’s got a cane in his hand and I inwardly cringe at the pain that he caused the last time he used it. Poor Taylee’s skin has not returned to its normal shade, it’s still bruised as shit.

“You don’t watch, Avah gets the cane.”

Jerking my chin, I look over to the women. I watch, reluctantly. “Avah, you touch that cunt, you get the cane,” he announces, making his second threat.

Avah doesn’t respond. She continues eating Taylee’s cunt, my cum, until Taylee’s hips are jerking and she lets out a soft cry as she comes.

“Beautiful,” Walsh grunts. “Come here, sweet Avah,” he rasps.

Avah must know exactly what he wants, because she doesn’t stand up and walk over to him, she crawls. She stops at his feet and I want to kill him. Her at his feet is worse than him making her come on his fingers, it’s worse than anything else that’s happened so far.

He does not deserve Avah on her knees for him.

He doesn’t deserve a goddamn thing.

Chapter Twenty-Six

AVAH

Curling up into a ball in the middle of the bed, freshly showered, I wonder how this has happened. I shouldn’t even need to wonder, I know how it happened. I became a fucking call girl, a hooker, and this is my penance for that, for everything that I have done that has been immoral.

I don’t even blink, I can only stare straight ahead. I now understand why Taylee’s gaze was so blank when I was taken into that room.

Hours.

We were forced to perform for the senator for hours. That’s exactly what it was, too, a performance. I’ve never felt so degraded in my entire life and I’ve done a lot of degrading things.

I hope that the Beasts make their way into this house soon, I’m not sure how many more times I can do what I just did, again. And I know that next time will be worse, and the time after that, and the time after that until I no longer recognize who I am, inside or out.

This has to end soon. For me, for Taylee, for Hawk and especially, without a doubt, for the senator and his guards. I want the three of them to suffer the most. I want to watch them cry. I want to hear them beg. I want to watch the breath leave their body.

Closing my eyes, I silently beg for the Beasts to come in and end all of this. I hope for it over and over, allowing the hope to play on repeat inside of my mind before I eventually drift off to sleep.

I sit up, startled.

My breathing comes out in short, quick pants as I try to calm myself, unsure of what startled me and why. Looking around the dark room, I blink a few times to try and allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness, in hopes that I’ll see whatever woke me up.

It happens again.

This time, I hear it.

There’s a loud noise and my heart slams against my chest. It was not just a loud noise, it was a boom. Pressing my lips together, I pull the top sheet over my breasts. Maybe my hopes came true, maybe they’re finally here to save me, to save us.

Another loud boom sounds, this time the bed shakes from the vibration of the noise. Wrapping the sheet around me, I slide off of the bed and gather the sheets around myself so that I can run if I need to, though I’m not quite sure where I’ll go.

Then when I’m trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do next,

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