Breathless Read online Cara Dee (The Game #3)

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
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“Grade your pain level, boy,” River ordered.

“Almost eight.” I swallowed hard, refusing to sob like a baby.

I went rigid and steeled myself as one of them came closer. Something heavy and metallic clanked against the floor. At the same time, a door opened and closed.

I jumped at the contact when two hands materialized along my sides.

“Stand up,” he commanded quietly. It was River’s voice. I was certain now.

He didn’t touch my arms but tightened his grip on my sides and hoisted me up.

“Ow,” I whispered. Every joint and muscle hated me.

Uncuffing me was next. He stuck a key into the lock, and I heard the little snick.

“Careful when you move your arms now.” He removed the handcuffs. “So, you’ve been sitting here this whole time?”

No, I went fucking shopping.

“Where else would I go?” I groused.

He flicked the back of my head with a finger. Who the hell did that anymore? My mom did it when I was little.

“I meant, you’ve been sitting here on your ass the whole time,” he said. “You haven’t gotten up to stretch your legs or anything.”

Oh.

I…didn’t know what to say. Why hadn’t I gotten up? Why hadn’t the thought even entered my stupid brain? The silent tears kept rolling down my cheeks, but for every inch I brought my arms forward, the pain intensified and messed with my head. I was losing my footing. It’d been such a long day. How long had I been in this room, or wherever I was? Six, seven, eight hours?

“I’m tired,” I mumbled.

“No, you’re just weak.”

I flinched.

By the time my arms were hanging limply along my sides, River left his spot and walked away. But he wasn’t leav—

“Gah!” I recoiled at the sudden downpour of cold water, which automatically made me lift my arms—and my God, that hurt. Owww. Was I in a freaking shower? My voice echoed, though. Like, enough that it’d convinced me I was in a bigger space. My voice carried farther than it would in a small shower.

No, no, no, this was too much. I couldn’t process anything anymore. The cold turned warm, but there was never a second left over to relax. One pain set off another. If it wasn’t my arms or my itchy face, it was the cramps from having to piss or exhaustion or hunger or thirst… I could drink. The waterdrops trickled into the burlap sack, and I tried to catch them with my tongue.

“You’re still not moving,” River said, baffled. “What the fuck is wrong with your head? Two steps sideways and you’d be away from the water, but you won’t even try. You can’t think that far. If I came at you with a knife, would you just stand there and bleed out?”

I screwed my eyes shut and felt a wave of shame roll over me.

What was wrong with me?

“Fucking useless,” he laughed, a dark sound that echoed in the room and reverberated in my skull. “And since you insist on standing there, even when I’ve told you that you can move, let’s test my theory.”

What was he going to do?

Fear twisted my insides.

A small voice at the back of my mind screamed at me, urging me to move, urging me to think faster, urging me to react. But where would I go? I was so tired, and I couldn’t focus on anything for longer than fragments of moments.

“No!” Panic slashed through me as something sharp sliced up my back, and I flinched away and turned around. Ignoring the throbbing ache in my arm, I reached back to feel if I was bleeding. “Why are you cutting me? I haven’t done anything wrong!” A new round of tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over.

“For all the bragging you’ve done about your martial arts skills, you have the reflexes of a fucking toddler.”

Fuck. I gulped and turned around again. I couldn’t be sure where his voice was coming from—or rather, it was moving. And I couldn’t see shit through the sack over my head. Not even shadows or contrasts.

The pressure in my lower abdomen grew heavier and heavier, and I couldn’t stop the whimper from falling out.

“Please,” I cried. “I need to go to the bathroom, River. Please, Sir. I’ll do anything.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any dumber,” he muttered. I didn’t know what made me flinch more, his words or his hands landing on my shoulders. He guided me to where the water came down the most and told me to stay put. “You’re willing to do anything…except for piss where you stand? In a motherfucking shower?”

I sucked in a breath and froze. The sharp cold was back. He dragged his knife slowly over my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut. The soft rasping sound from the blade traveled to my ears. Was he drawing blood?



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