Page 7 of The Sinner

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“Easton Bradley Sinnett, welcome to the Lords. For you shall reap the benefits of your sacrifice,” Lincoln states before I feel the hot searing pain in my chest and smell my own flesh burning.

CHAPTER FIVE

SIN

THREE YEARS OF celibacy can make a man go crazy. Just ask any Lord. We are to show just how far we will go to prove ourselves. We have to be initiated into the secret society our freshman, sophomore, and junior years at Barrington University—only the elite attend from all around the world. But not every male student at Barrington is a Lord. Some don’t even know we exist, and we prefer it that way. It’s easier to attack when you jump out from the shadows.

We’ve officially been Lords for seven weeks now. We’re two weeks into our classes at the university. Our senior year, we get pussy. A chosen is given to us. She is offered on a silver platter to use however we want.

For someone who hasn’t had his dick sucked in three years, I’m not all that excited about accepting a chosen. Nothing about that process appeals to me. I like the chase. The hunt. A challenge.

It’s funny how the Lords teach us to take what we want, including a life, but we’re supposed to accept the pussy they offer us. Where is the excitement in that?

I sit at the round poker table at the house of Lords—we’re required to live here while attending Barrington—looking over the cards in my hand with a cigar in my mouth. I can’t stand them but thoughtwhat the hellwhen Jasper—a fellow Lord—opened the box that sat on the table. His father gave them to him in celebration that he gets some pussy tomorrow.

“Pick a name, dude. You’re taking forever.”

I look over my shoulder to see a few guys standing at the pool table. A black vase in the middle full of folded-up pieces of paper.

“What’s the point in picking names again?” I ask curiously. “You’ve already decided on your chosens.” They’ve been talking aboutdrawingall day, but I’m not sure why. The vow ceremony for our chosen is tomorrow night, and we already know who we’re getting. Some of us get who we want, and others don’t. I only want one woman, but unfortunately, she wasn’t on the list.

“Pussy,” Jasper answers, looking up at me. “Want to draw?”

I shake my head. “No thanks,” I say, turning back to my game.

“Ryat, how about you, man?” I hear Jasper ask.

I look at Ryat, who sits across from me at the table. He, too, stares at his cards. “No.”

“Come on, Ryat.” Jasper whines like a chick, and Ryat’s green eyes snap to glare at him, getting his attention. “What if she doesn’t show?” Jasper asks.

“She will,” Ryat says matter-of-factly.

“Dude, why are you putting all your eggs in one basket when you can have six baskets?” Larson jokes from my right, listening in.

“You mean, why is he putting his cock in one cunt when he can have twelve?” Jake mumbles around his cigar. “Seriously, man. I wouldn’t waste your time on Blakely. She’ll never be over Matt.”

Ryat tenses but doesn’t acknowledge that statement.

“Well, I’ll be nice.” Jasper goes on from behind me at Ryat’s silence, “When she doesn’t show up tomorrow at the vow ceremony to be your chosen, I’ll share my pussy with you. Hell, I’ll even be nice enough and give you her ass.”

Ryat tosses his cards down and gets up from the table, leaving the room without another word. I can’t tell if he’s mad or just tired. We’re not close. Over a hundred men of all grades live in this house right now. Only fifteen of us made it to be seniors this year. His two best friends, Prickett and Gunner, who sat on either side of him, also get up and silently exit the room.

“Hey, Sin, you sure you don’t want to draw?” Jasper asks again.

“Positive,” I answer with a sigh. The guy is relentless. Ryat had the right idea by leaving the room.

“I bet you’ll change your mind when you see who I just got,” he adds with a dark laugh.

It’s not like women volunteered for their cocks. They just wrote down the names of girls who attend Barrington that they want a piece of and threw them in a vase to draw from. Then they’ll do whatever it takes to fuck them. They’ve got a bet going on who can fuck the girl they draw first. I think the pot is up to fifty thousand dollars. They’re bored as fuck, if you ask me.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, not giving a flying fuck whose name is written on his piece of paper.

“Two words,” he calls out, and my body tenses when he speaks again. “Ellington Asher.”

“Damn.” Nate sighs. “I’ll trade you.” He holds up his folded piece of paper with a frown. “Elli’s a freak in bed. Lets you do whatever the fuck you want.”

“How the fuck would you know that?” Jacob shoves his shoulder.


Tags: Shantel Tessier Erotic