Chapter 8His fingers dig in, bruising the flesh, and he yanks me off the dining table. My legs buckle, the sticky residue of champagne and cum making me slip on the polished floor, but he doesn't wait for me to find my footing. He drags me toward the heavy oak door tucked away in the shadowed corner of the foyer.I stumble behind him, my bare feet slapping against the marble as we reach the narrow staircase leading down. At the bottom, he shoves me forward, and I stumble into the dim room.It’s a dungeon. Stone walls line the space, and the light from a single bare bulb overhead casts long, distorted shadows. Hooks are bolted into the ceiling and walls, holding an array of chains, leather restraints, whips, and devices I can’t even name. A St. Andrew’s cross stands in the center, and a heavy, padded table sits against the far wall."This is where you belong," Dominic growls, as he shuts the door.He pushes me against the rough stone wall, the cold scraping against my already tend
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