Shackled (The Lord Series) by Amy T

204. Olivia - Shopping III

I face the mirror and forget to breathe for a moment. The dress has long sleeves and the skirt falls below my knees. It's not revealing, but at the same time, it doesn't make me look like a prude.

Tyson gets behind me and puts his hands on my hips. "Do you like it?" Doubting that I can speak, I nod. His hands move up until they reach my breasts. Running his fingers across the underside of my tits, he adds, "I like how it hugs all your curves perfectly." His palms cover my chest. "Especially your gorgeous tits."

I chew my bottom lip while I look at the mirror, my eyes fixed on the reflection of his hands. "You say gorgeous tits, yet you hate the rest of my body." "No, I don't," Tyson quickly denies it.

My brow furrows. "You are confusing. Earlier in the kitchen—”

He gropes my tits hard. "Earlier in the kitchen, there were five men who were looking at your half-naked body, thinking of all the ways they would get to fuck you. You might be a slut, Olivia," my breath catches in my throat when he says my name, "but you can whore yourself only for my blood-brothers and...me."

His left hand goes to my neck, his fingers wrapping around the hickeys on my skin, covering them until they can no longer be seen, while his right one slides to my ass.

"You'll never fuck," I whisper.

His eyes turn red. "You think you can stop me?"

I shake my head. "I know you, Tyson. You never want someone else's sloppy leftovers."

you are? A whore without hope to

a mirage. I don't believe in it anymore. But you are wrong

pulse. "I am rarely wrong. And in your

His eyes go wide. "Because I have nothing more to give."

a nun,” Rueben comments. “I might have found something you

random white t-shirt from Rueben's arms and to my shock, it's clean. Or at least as clean as

before giving me another dress, just

turn to play dress-up

Are you saying the Diseased Cunt is

else to do." After making sure Rueben left, Tyson takes another dress from his pile and turns his attention

red. My fingers grip the fabric hard. "I hate this color." My voice breaks. "I

over his shoulder. "Nothing red then." Swirling a finger around a strand of my hair, he adds, "Pity. It matched the shade of your

you doing this?" I

"Doing what?"

inside of my cheek. "Suddenly acting nice to

fingers through my hair, pulling my head back, making me look up at him. "I'm not nice. Not even my demon can stand you." He dips his

his