by Zavarelli, A
I tried to jerk my other hand away before he fastened it, but he held me until the mechanism clicked into place. The skin on my wrists was still sensitive, and I didn’t dare try to pull on the restraints. But I knew instinctively they were handcuffs.
“Why?” my lip trembled. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You haven’t,” he agreed, smoothing the hair away from my face. “But I want to play with you tonight.”
His voice was pure silk, and it calmed me a little to know he wasn’t angry. I had no idea what he meant by play, but when I heard his zipper, followed by the velvety softness of his cock against my lips, I had a pretty good indication.
“Have you ever done this before?”
“No,” I admitted.
“That’s good.” He released a breath as he stroked my hair with his palm.
He nudged his swollen head against my lips, smearing my lipstick with a light groan. I parted my lips on instinct, the darkness inside of me eager to please him. It was a terrifying sensation, and I had no idea where it had come from. I wasn’t here to please him. I was here to do as was requested of me until my time was up. To play the game I so carefully constructed in my mind. But in order to do that, I had to shield myself from any real emotions towards this man.
He pushed past the barrier of my lips, gliding inside of my mouth much easier than I expected. His skin was soft and musky against my tongue, and I fumbled around the enormity of his size when he edged towards the back of my throat.
It occurred to me I had no idea what I was doing and panic seized me as I gasped for air. Without the use of my hands, I was at the mercy of his.
“Shhh.” He stroked my face with his fingers. “It’s okay Brighton, just relax, and trust me to guide you.”
Trust him. Such a simple request, but it nearly brought me to tears. Trust was a hard thing for me to give in the best of circumstances, let alone to a complete stranger.
I breathed through my nose and formed a suction around him with my mouth, trying my best to work him the way I thought I was meant to. I figured if I did it right, he wouldn’t need to choke me or make me gasp for air for any reason. But I was wrong.
The harder I worked him, the more ragged his breathing became. His hips pivoted forward into my mouth while his hands tangled in my hair. He was completely lost to the feeling, and he told me as much between breaths. Because of me, and what I was doing. I felt that potent rush again. I wanted to bring him to his knees. To show him how powerful I could be as I kneeled before him with my mouth around his cock.
I sucked him all the way to the back of my throat, ignoring my gag reflex and the instinct to pull away. He grunted and wrapped one of his hands around my throat as he rocked forward with his pelvis.
And that’s when I felt it, the enormity of my power. He twitched and convulsed and exploded inside of my mouth with a loud roar. Hot liquid spilled across my tongue as he jerked in my mouth, the saltiness of his semen a completely foreign taste for me. I swallowed it quickly, and only once it was all gone did he allow me some air.
He released another torrent of curses beneath his breath as he padded away from me. I smiled to myself, hoping that I’d somehow defeated him. That I’d surprised him and brought him to his knees like I’d intended.
When he came back several minutes later, he gave me a drink of water, for which I was grateful. But I nearly choked on it as soon as he spoke.
“I want to hurt you,” he said calmly. So calmly, I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly.
On instinct, I jerked on the handcuffs holding me in place and tried to shake off my blindfold.
“Relax.” He smoothed his fingers over my lips. “It’s not what you think.”
A thousand images of knives and blood and other torture devices invaded my mind as I tried to understand what he was saying. But before I could even form the words to ask, he continued on, his voice more aroused than I’d ever heard it.
“Your purity,” he rasped. “I never could have known how addicting it would be. I want to see how far I can take you. How much you will let me do with you.”
“But why?” I whispered.
“I can’t explain why,” he said unapologetically. “It’s just what I want. I want to fuck your ass and taste your tears while I do it.”
The way he spoke was so depraved, I should have been demanding that he release me at once. But I wasn’t sure if it was the challenge in his voice or some baser part of myself that had me hesitating. I wanted to prove him wrong. To show him how strong I was. To play the game, I reminded myself.
“What will you do to me?” I asked.
He ran a hand down my back and over my hip, and my entire body shuddered beneath him.
“I don’t know yet,” he answered. “Whatever I feel like doing in the moment.”
“And if I tell you to stop?”
“Then I would stop.”
“And the agreement?”
“Would not be affected,” he said.
I clenched and unclenched my hands several times, unsure whether this was something I could really go through with. At first I thought I was considering it strictly because of my hidden motivations. But the more that I thought about it, the unknown possibilities… the more my body reacted.
Was it possible that I actually wanted the pain like he said? That I craved it?
“Okay,” I whispered before I could change my mind.
A rush of air escaped his lips as he pulled my face upwards and greeted me with a brutal kiss. His breath was sweet against mine, tasting of mint and a faint hint of Whiskey.
“That’s my good girl.”
***
My ass clenched as he shoved the plug deeper. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from making a noise. I didn’t want him to know how difficult this was for me. How scary.
He twisted the cool metal around inside of me, sending waves of foreign sensations throughout my core. Everything was amplified in this forbidden place, more intense. After the initial bite of pain, liquid heat flooded my body. Somewhere during the process, I had arched into his touch, silently begging for more.
His fingers feathered along my back, warming my already sensitive skin. It was the barest of touches, and yet it threatened to send me over the edge. My skin prickled and my nipples tightened when he twisted the plug again, effectively pulling it free. He replaced it with the head of his cock, and I grunted when he began to push inside.
The plug was one thing, but he was much bigger, and now I was stretched to my limit. There was a burning sensation as he invaded the tight channel, and it took every ounce of my will not to make a sound.
“Goddammit,” he groaned. “I’ve thought about fucking you this way so many times. But nothing compares to the real thing.”
The rapturous tone of his voice continued to surprise me. That I could affect someone this way. I didn’t understand it, and I was certain I never would. But right or wrong, it was hard not to let it get to me. Knowing I could drive someone to this level of crazy. To make him resort to these methods just to be inside of me. It only propelled my need to win this game even further.
He started to move, sliding in and out of me and igniting a dormant furnace inside of my belly. The sounds were flowing freely from my mouth now, and there was no stopping them. He’d reduced me to nothing more than an animal as he gripped my hips and plunged deep inside of me, his pelvis slapping against my ass cheeks.
“Do you like that?” he grunted.
I whimpered but didn’t respond.
He leaned forward and cocooned his body around mine, baring his teeth against the soft part of my throat. He dragged them along the skin and clamped down, making me buck against him as pleasure and pain warred inside of me.
He soothed the sting of his bite with a kiss and then moved his lips to my ear.
“I like to take it out on you.”
His words jolted me into a state of violent convulsi
ons as I exploded around him, held up only by his arm around my waist. When I thought he’d squeezed every last ounce of pleasure from my body, he started to thrust harder.
“Nooooooooo,” I begged when his hand found my clit. “I can’t.”
He didn’t listen. I sobbed when the pressure stirred inside of me again. It was too much. It was too little. I was going crazy while he toyed with me. Blood roared in my ears and spots flashed in my vision. I knew it was coming. I didn’t know if I would survive it.
When the first piece of leather cracked across my back, I knew I wouldn’t. The onslaught of pain and the intensity of my second orgasm made everything else around me cease to exist. I opened my mouth and tried to scream, but nothing came out. I was certain he’d just flayed me wide open and poured gasoline into the wound. I was still spasming beneath him, but I couldn’t tell if it was from pleasure or pain. They were one and the same now.
It took me a full minute to realize that I was gasping for breath, but no sound escaped my lungs. When the second piece of leather sang through the air and exploded against my skin, I jerked on my restraints and fell forward. This time, there was enough air in my lungs to force a guttural sound from deep inside of me. It vibrated through every corner of the room, and it was so feral I couldn’t believe it had come from me.
Undiluted pain invaded every cell of my body as he struck me twice more. When the endorphins finally rushed into my blood stream, a ravenous hunger for more uncoiled from deep inside of me.
He struck me again and again, propelling me into another dimension. This was worse than a coke binge. Worse than black tar or the thrill of E. This was the devil himself snaking his way inside of my heart and bending me to his will. This was addiction, quickly morphing into obsession. And somewhere in the clouded fog that was my brain, I knew this was a game I was going to lose.
It went on forever. And even when he had bottomed out inside of me and filled me with his release, I didn’t want him to stop. I sagged towards the floor like a limp noodle, and he panted against my back. His heart beat savagely against my skin, echoing my own.
I was vaguely aware of a sting, but when he peeled himself off me I crashed and burned. The high I had experienced only moments before disappeared as pain licked along my nerves like fire.
I hissed in a breath, and my captor leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“I wanted to break you, Brighton. I never expected you to like it.”
A sob escaped me, and the dam broke. I didn’t know why I was crying, but I couldn’t stop. What was happening to me? What had he turned me into? And why did it always feel like he was punishing me?
He released the restraints around my wrists and pulled me into his arms. He held me against his chest and rocked me back and forth as if I were a small child. I didn’t fight him. I should have. But he was the only source of comfort I had, and I clung to it instead.
He kissed my tears away and whispered sweet words into my ears. Words he was too afraid to say out loud. He told me I was beautiful. That I was perfect in every way. And that, unconditionally, I was his.
Chapter Twelve
I tried to roll away from the heat penetrating my sore skin, but an arm wrapped around my waist, pinning me in place. I was still wearing the blindfold, and I wanted to tear it from my eyes.
He was cuddling me after what he’d done.
As if he cared about me at all. What a joke.
I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to hurt him like he had hurt me. I flopped onto my side, trying unsuccessfully to rip the blindfold away as I battered his chest with my fist.
“Brighton…” his voice was soft and calm, as though he’d anticipated this behavior.
I didn’t want him to be calm when I was so angry. But I was too weak, and it was no use. He wouldn’t budge as he wrapped his arms around me like a vice, taking the punishment I had to give him without so much as a sound.
“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” I wailed.
He pulled my head into the crook of his neck and rested it against his warm skin as he stroked my hair in a soothing rhythm.
“I think we both know it’s far too late for that,” he said softly. “We couldn’t stop now if we tried, baby girl.”
I made a noise in my throat somewhere between acceptance and denial.
“I don’t know what will happen when your six months are up,” he continued. “Even then, I might not be able to let you go.”
***
I’d never slept on silk sheets before because they were a luxury I could never afford.
But when I woke again, I was certain that’s what I was lying on. The cool material soothed my sore muscles, but it didn’t stop me from crying out when I rolled onto my back. It still felt like hell fire had rained down on me, and I quickly flailed back onto my stomach.
My tormentor’s voice whispered softly in my ear as his hand trailed up my spine, attempting to soothe me.
“Shh, Brighton. It’s okay.”
I wanted to tell him it wasn’t okay. That none of this was okay. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to what he’d asked of me the night before. As though we were lovers and I would do anything to please him. There was something wrong with me. Clearly, I was insane.
This man was breaking down my defenses little by little, and I was nothing more than a fly trapped in his web. I didn’t want to like him. I didn’t want to feel anything when he touched me. But even now, my traitorous body was melting beneath his touch.
He squeezed something cool on my back and I hissed in a breath as he rubbed it around.
“It’s aloe,” he explained. “It will help with the pain.”
Admittedly, the cold gel soothed my burning skin, and I didn’t protest. But when his hand moved down between my legs, I whimpered. I was still swollen and sensitive from the night before, and the last thing I wanted was to have sex.
“Last night was about me.” His fingers slid inside of me. “But today is about you.”
I hid my face in the sheets so he couldn’t see my warring emotions. I couldn’t even articulate what I was feeling at this point, but whatever it was it felt private.
My body relaxed as his fingers glided in and out of me in a slow and calculated pattern. It didn’t take me long at all until I rode the waves of pleasure all the way to the crest. When I burst around his fingers, so did my resolve, and with it came more unexpected tears.
My tormentor showed no surprise as he pulled me into his arms and held me steadfast. We sat in silence for a long time while he massaged whatever part of skin was within his reach. I felt so small and fragile that a part of me enjoyed it. The part of me that had been neglected and starved for human affection my entire life. But on the other hand, he was still the man who was forcing me to do this. I was disgusted with myself for allowing him to comfort me. I needed to get away. I needed some room to breathe, so I said the only thing I could think of in the moment.
“Can I take a shower?” I asked. “Alone?”
He stiffened beneath me, and I was certain that I’d offended or irritated him, but I was long past caring. A moment later, he stood up and helped me to the bathroom.
Before he left, his fingers feathered over the marks on my back, touching each one until he was satisfied.
“You belong to me now, Brighton.”
And with that, he disappeared behind the click of the door, leaving cool air to creep over my body in his absence. When I removed the blindfold and turned to check my wounds in the mirror, I was surprised to see they were just reddish bruises. I was certain he’d broken the skin, but he hadn’t.
What was more surprising was the pattern of the bruises. The longer I looked at them, the clearer they became. The shape of two initials.
JL
He’d marked me as his. Claimed me.
I wracked my brain for what those initials stood for. For anyone I might know that could be a match, but I came up empty. No matter how many p
ossibilities I conjured up, I could never get this scenario to make sense. To understand who this man was. I figured this must have something to do with Brayden, but then again, maybe not. With the exception of a middle-aged father, all the people who could have sought revenge against him were dead. But that last initial haunted me. It was too similar to be coincidence, wasn’t it? Or was I overthinking it? Was it just a stranger I’d never noticed before? Whoever it was, he’d been watching me a long time.
I turned on the shower and tested the water to make sure it was lukewarm before stepping inside. I was careful to avoid my back as I washed and lathered my entire body. The soap was an exotic looking bottle with a French name and a lavender infusion. Expensive from what I gathered. As was the shower, now that I deemed to notice. There were dual showerheads and a sunken floor surrounded by natural stone tiles. It looked as if it belonged in an old castle which made me curious about where I was or whose house I was in.
The wheels turned in my brain, wondering if I’d get a chance to explore more of the place sans blindfold. It wasn’t likely, but I would bide my time if I had to. It was early in the agreement, so I still had plenty of time to figure this mystery out.
A knock on the door startled me as I was drying off, and I realized I’d been in the bathroom for a long time. Probably pushing the limits, I supposed.
“I have some breakfast for you,” his voice called through the door. “Do you have the blindfold on?”
For a moment, I considered lying and telling him I did. But then I thought of Brayden and what would happen to him if I didn’t play along. I slipped the cloth over my eyes and wrapped the large towel around my body.
“Yes,” I answered solemnly.
The energy in the room changed when he walked into it. There was an aura of power that rolled off of him, even though I couldn’t see it. I could feel it, though, in the way he took up space. The way he handled my body and spoke without apology about his wants or needs.