Hana
We exited the city, the cab still driving toward Greenwich. I didn’t know why Michael was taking me to Greenwich, but I didn’t ask any questions—I was still trying to process the fact that I was in Michael’s presence. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it; he seemed anxious and somber. He seemed desperate. I didn’t know what his plan was, but I knew the likely outcome: I would probably have no say in it.
I realized I did have a choice when it came to staying with Jack. It had been so easy to leave him behind. All I had to do was ditch my purse, phone, and coat? I could have done that a million times, yet I didn’t. He had threatened me and my loved ones to get me to stay in the beginning. But I had fallen in love and he didn’t need to bring any of that up anymore. He knew how madly in love I was with him. But did I still want to be with Michael?
“Michael,” I whispered, pulling him out of a daze.
He turned to me and his eyes were tired, but I realized that my beautiful ex-fiancé still had the same impact on me as he did before. My heart leapt and crashed to my knees at just the sight of him. His eyes darkened as he looked down at my stomach, shaking his head.
“I can’t believe you were going to get rid of it. And you don’t even know who the father is? What the fuck, Hana? Why would you do that?” His Irish accent sounded more pronounced than I remembered, and his scolding made heat rise to my cheeks.
“Why would I do that? Because it’s my fucking body and I want some say in one aspect of my life, especially something as major as having a child!” I blurted out angrily.
Michael’s eyes widened. “I don’t believe a fucking thing you say anymore. You really had me going for a while, Hana,” he scolded again.
My mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
“What? You really think I would believe you after all that you put me through? After sending me that fucking video of you and Jack having sex? God fucking damnit, Hana!” he huffed out, the angriest I had ever seen him.
“Then why am I here, Michael?” I shouted out angrily, tears streaming down my face. “Why the fuck do you want me still?”
I jumped as he shouted back. “Because you are mine, Hana! You promised to marry me. You promised to spend the rest of your life with me!”
I started bawling into my hands. I was too overwhelmed, too hurt and ashamed to face him now.
“And to top it all off, you’re pregnant. Possibly with my child,” he continued in a barely audible whisper.
I looked up at him through my tear-soaked eyes. Michael was weeping into his hands now. My heart ached more than it ever had, even when I was first taken away from him. I did this to him. Why did I keep breaking hearts like this? Why did I keep driving men to their breaking points?
I looked up at the cab driver and his eyes were still pointed at the road, no emotion on his face whatsoever.
“Can someone please tell me where we’re going?” I asked, my voice raw and quiet.
“Why? So you can tell Jack where we are again?” Michael spit out.
Again?
“For the record, Michael, I never told him we were there. I don’t know how he found us,” I explained, as if it made any difference.
Michael began to laugh. It was a chuckle that turned into a frantic, manic laugh. I sat there watching him, stunned. I had never witnessed this Michael before.
“I don’t fucking believe you anymore, Hana.” He shrugged.
“Yet you still want me to be ‘yours,’” I quipped back with air quotes.
Michael shook his head with contempt. “You are mine. And I will break you, just as Jack did.”
We sat in angry silence until the cab pulled up to a townhouse in Cos Cob, a little neighborhood in Greenwich not far from where I grew up. Why are we here? All I could think about was how much my heart ached at how I missed Jack and how I worried about his mental well-being. He had to have been going out of his mind now. Would he find me again?
Michael tipped the poor cab driver generously before taking my hand and pulling me out of the cab. We walked up to the front door, and he pulled a key from his pocket then quickly unlocked the door, looking around as if we were being watched. I mirrored him before he led me into the townhouse. The place seemed almost like a model home; it was neatly and modernly decorated. The living room was spacious and led to stairs on the left and into a beautiful kitchen and dining area to the right.
“What are we doing?” I asked for what seemed like the thirtieth time that day.
I hesitantly sat on the couch after eyeing the place for a moment. Michael crossed his arms as he surveyed me. I realized how strong his arms looked bulging from his long-sleeved cotton shirt. He wore black cuffed jeans with brown suede boots. His eyes were sullen as he shifted his weight, his arms still crossed, then made his way directly in front of me. He put his hands on his hips and looked at my hands.
“You’re still wearing your sub ring. Why?” His tone was harsh and accusatory.
I looked down at my right-hand ring finger and twirled the ring around.
“Because I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you, Michael,” I responded quietly, unable to look up at him.
“Look at me, Hana,” he snapped.
Butterflies suddenly swarmed in my belly as I looked up and our eyes met.
“And you love Jack as well,” he spit out.
I nodded slowly, desperately trying not to break eye contact. He was still the intimidating, dominant boss from all those months ago.
“Take his ring off,” he ordered, his eyes dark and angry.
My heart dropped.
“Why?”
What a stupid question to ask, Hana.
Michael’s expression quickly went from angry to confused. “Why, Hana? Because you are mine, and I don’t want his fucking ring on you when you’re mine,” he muttered, leaning down only inches from my face.
He knew how to intimidate me. It was working. But I was not the same woman I was when we met all those months ago. I wasn’t going to keep my mouth shut any longer.
“I don’t belong to anyone, Michael,” I hissed, positive that my heart was going to burst out of my chest.
Michael’s eyes flickered with amusement for a moment before he slowly stood. Then he raised his hand in the air and slapped me across the face. I immediately gasped and covered my raw cheek with my palm. I had felt pain far worse, but this? It truly shocked and surprised me; it broke my heart. Tears began streaming down my face before he started to speak.
“If you keep talking to me like that, Hana, you’ll see just how rough I can be. But that’s what you like, isn’t it?” His angry gray eyes looked down at me. “I saw how much you liked getting roughed up, choked out and spat on. I can do all that and more, Hana.” He paced the room, his eyes never leaving mine.
I glanced down at the bulge in his pants, his erection desperately trying to escape. He was right, because at that moment, having him scold me and hurt me…I was dripping wet.
And then a thought occurred to me.
“You liked watching us,” I blurted out.
Michael stopped and widened his eyes at me.
I looked down at his huge erection. “Look at you. You fucking loved watching us,” I continued with my heart racing, widening my eyes and opposing my body’s normal urge to flight—I was fighting now.
Michael stayed silent; he almost looked ashamed with his eyes slightly widened, surveying my body.
“On your knees, Hana,” he ordered, his voice deep and gravelly.
Instinctively, I did as I was told and quickly got to my knees in front of the couch. Michael unzipped his pants and slowly walked toward me.
“You know I’m the biggest you’ve ever had, Hana,” he said quietly, stroking his cock over his boxer briefs. “Why would you fib about that, hm?”
He suddenly let his cock spring free in my face, and my pussy started throbbing with need. A gut-wrenching, terrible guilt overwhelmed me.
“I’m married now, Michael,” I whispered as I looked up to him.
He narrowed his eyes down at me. “Legally, on paper, sure. But you’re mine.”
“Michael—”
He slapped my face again. I gasped and shut my eyes tightly, the sting on my cheek burning. He gripped my hair and jerked my head up, forcing me to look at him.
“I’m sir to you, Hana. You know that,” he spit out.
This was not the Michael I knew. I drove this man to the edge, over the cliff and into the deep end where it swallowed him whole.
“Yes, sir.” My voice quivered.
Michael let out a sinister chuckle.
“Look at you shaking and crying. And we haven’t even started yet.”
I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
“Now open your mouth,” he demanded.
I couldn’t deny the fact that I was aroused, that my pussy was drenched and I ached for his cock. But I felt a profound urge to disobey, to push him and test him. I wasn’t going to not fight this time.
“Make me,” I muttered. “Sir.”
Michael shook his head at me with amusement, his eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. He suddenly let go of his grip in my hair, easily picked me up, and threw me over his shoulder.
“Michael!” I screeched out, startled as he made his way up the stairs.
I knew I fucked up by not calling him sir when he slapped my ass with a heavy hand. He carried me into a bedroom and threw me down on the bed, quick to grab something from underneath it. I started to lift myself up to get off the bed when Michael popped up with rope in his hand. My heart immediately dropped. This wasn’t just some ploy to get me to come back to him. This was him keeping me here.
“Michael, please. Let’s just talk about this,” I started, standing in front of him.
“Strike two.” Michael shook his head, grabbing my hands as he pushed me back onto the bed.
He quickly and elaborately tied my wrists together. I had to do something; once my legs were bound, that was it. I waited until he reached over for more rope then I jumped up and bolted out the door. I was all too aware of how ironic this was: I was running away from the man that I had been utterly in love with for the last several months. In fact, even longer than that.
“Hana!” Michael yelled, directly behind me as I ran down the stairs.
I missed the last three steps and fell straight down on my ass on the bottom one. I tried to get up before he tugged on my hair. I screamed out, more startled than anything. Michael picked me up over his shoulder again, and I began to kick my legs, fighting for whatever kind of dignity I had left.
“Let me down! Let me go!” I cried out, now banging my fists against his back.
Michael threw me back down on the bed upstairs, face first, and quickly took my legs and started to tie them together. I couldn’t help myself: I began to sob into the bed, my tied wrists on the side of my head feeling raw already.
“You’re going to stay like this until you behave, Hana,” he hissed, turning me over onto my back.
I don’t think I had ever felt so scared before, not even with Jack. I never would have dreamed that I would be feeling this terrified with Michael, the perfect man of my dreams. I knew I broke his heart, but I had transformed this man into a different person.
I had no idea where Michael was or what he would do next. I kept my eyes closed tight as I sobbed on the bed, my tears dripping on the side of my face and trickling into my ears. My heart stung at the thought of where Jack was and how he was handling this.
“Can you please let Jack know that I’m okay? Please, sir?” I croaked out after several minutes. I didn’t even know if Michael was still in the same room or not.
I blinked open my eyes and the sun was starting to set. Michael stood from an armchair I didn’t even realize was there.
“You mean with the same courtesy you gave me? With a fucking email?” He sat on the bed beside me, his eyes looking ominous in the dark room.
“I told you. I didn’t write that email,” I snapped back; I guess I still had some fight in me.
Michael let out a soft laugh. “I’ll let him know you’re alright. We’ll send him a special video.”
I started to cry again. “Why are you both using my body to make each other jealous?” I snapped. “I’m so fucking sick of this! Let me have my body back! Let me do what I want with it!”
My chest began tightening, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I knew what was happening: I was having a panic attack. Michael could tell; he sat me up on the bed and put my knees up to my chest.
“Come on now, Han. Breathe. Just breathe with me.” He began to exaggerate his deep breaths, and I tried to follow. His voice was so soothing and calm—this was a familiar moment with Michael, and I clung to it.
I nodded as I mimicked his deep breaths until I finally calmed down. Still shaking, I looked into Michael’s eyes and I knew he still cared about me. He was angry at me, but he still loved me.
“Can we please talk like normal people for a second? Please?” I whispered in between hiccuped breaths. “Sir.”
“No.” Michael shook his head at me. “Because we’re not normal people, Hana. You’re a fucking liar who shattered my heart, and I’m the man you turned into a monster.”
I shook my head back at him. “Aren’t you the one who said that you’ve gotten your heart broken before but never went and kidnapped them over it? That I can’t feel responsible for how someone reacts?”
Michael smiled slowly. He gently put his hand up to my cheek then put a strand of hair behind my ear. His face grew somber again.
“That was before I knew what true despair felt like. You did this, Hana. You do this to me.”
He pushed me back down on the bed and began to unzip his pants. I started to cry gently—I knew this was my fault. And the fucked-up thing was that I was still dripping wet. I wanted this.
“Come on, Hana. Don’t make me be the bad guy here. You know you still want to fuck me.”
He lifted my ankles and slid me to the edge of the bed where he knelt down beside it. My ankles were still bound, but that didn’t stop Michael from pulling down my pants and thong. Before I knew it, he quickly stuck a finger inside of me.
Michael chuckled. I knew how wet I was for him.
“Jack was right. You like being scared, don’t you?”
He easily slid another finger into me, his hard cock bulging inside his pants.
I nodded, my heart audibly beating inside my ears. I had dreamt about another reunion with Michael, but in no way was this ever a possibility in my mind.
“This is what you want, isn’t it? You want chaos. You want fear. You want it rough and dirty,” he continued, his mouth trailing kisses down the back of my thigh and one hand holding up my tied ankles.
“Yes,” I breathed out, closing my eyes and trying to take my mind to its empty bliss, something I was accustomed to now.
Michael removed his fingers from me and then slapped my ass.
“I think you’re doing this on purpose. Do you want to keep pushing me, Hana?” His voice was so eerily calm.
“No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” My words were on autopilot now.
“Oh come on, Hana.” He slipped two fingers back inside me. “Now you’re going to behave? I was starting to enjoy bratty Hana.”
There was a stillness for a moment as Michael let go of my ankles and released his fingers from me yet again. I moaned with disapproval and desire.
“Michael, please,” I begged, my eyes closed.
I couldn’t believe I was begging for him while literally enslaved by him; that’s just what he did to my body.
“Say that again, Hana,” he ordered, smacking my ass hard again.
“Please. Please, sir,” I breathed out.
Michael let out a soft laugh that made me open my eyes. My heart dropped when I realized he was holding his phone above us, recording this moment. I started to cry, knowing that Jack was going to see this.
He lowered his phone to face only him now. “See how quickly she succumbed to me, mate? I’ve had her for only a few hours and she’s already begging me—”
“No, Jack! We’re in Cos Cob in Greenwich—”
I was immediately interrupted by Michael tossing his phone to the ground and grabbing my neck. He squeezed hard, his body above mine and his eyes clouded with rage. I started to get lightheaded as Michael put his other hand to my neck, squeezing tighter. I kicked my legs out, my eyes fluttering shut, before he finally let go. I gasped for air and the endorphins rushed through me, a mixture of tears and laughter and pleasure.
“You really are a sick fuck, aren’t you?” Michael’s eyes were nearly bulging out of his head as he stared down at me.
I nodded. “Do your worst.” And then I spat at him.
Michael seemed truly shocked as he dismounted me. He grabbed his phone and took something from a drawer beside the bed then revealed the duct tape in his hand.
“For your filthy fucking mouth.”
He stuck a piece to my mouth and then quickly removed my shoes. He easily tore my jeans apart before ripping off my thong. He continued by tearing open my shirt, exposing my bare tits and leaving the shreds on either side of me. I turned and saw his phone recording video on the dresser in front of the bed.
“Perfect,” Michael whispered to himself. “Wait.”
Suddenly, Michael removed the duct tape from my mouth and pressed his lips firmly onto mine. I couldn’t help but kiss him back. Our tongues swirled together desperately before I snapped out of the trance and bit down hard on his lip.
“Fuck!” Michael yelled, hovering over me.
He quickly pressed the tape back to my mouth, and I giggled triumphantly. I eyed the blood on Michael’s lip and raised my eyebrows at him. His tongue collected the red drops and then he spat down at me, the mixture of his saliva and blood on my face and tits. He pulled out his hard cock and started stroking. The tingle deep in my core and pussy made it abundantly clear that I was ready for him.
“Funny, is it?”
He grabbed my bound ankles, lifted them in the air, and then quickly thrust himself into me, making me scream out with pleasure. He pounded into me furiously and moaned loud over the sound of our bodies slapping together. The tape muffled my moans and screams. Just as I was about to come, he pulled out and quickly flipped me over onto my stomach. I moaned with disapproval until his cock started to enter my ass. My moans turned into screams when he fully plunged himself into me, deep and hard. Jack was kind enough to use lube, but Michael gave me no mercy. Tears started streaming down my face, my screams loud and muffled, when Michael pulled out and poured liquid on my ass. Thank fuck: lube. He rammed back inside of me, his thrusts filling me with more pleasure than pain now. I felt shame as my orgasm grew close as Michael tugged my head back with his fist in my hair.
“You better come loud, Hana. I want him to know who you belong to,” he whispered in my ear right at the release of my orgasm.
I screamed out with pleasure, my mind blank, my body vibrating with the intense pulsing of my pussy, and my ass filled to the brim with his cock.
“Good girl,” Michael said into my ear and then pulled out and quickly rolled me onto my back.
I figured he was going to recreate mine and Jack’s cumshot, but he had more planned. He pulled something else out of the drawer and I realized it was my magic wand, the one he had gotten me at our condo. There was a sting in my chest as our old memories flooded back to me. He was so perfect. Or was that something I just made up in my head because I was so in love with him? Clearly, he was far from fucking perfect.
“I’m going to make you weep from how much you fucking come for me, baby,” Michael declared as he turned on the wand.
He wasn’t lying; I easily came four times in less than two minutes. Tears streamed down my face from how fierce my orgasms were. When I recovered from my last orgasm, I looked up and Michael was jerking off to me.
“Now who’s the better fuck?” he said before he released his cum all over me, his warm liquid shooting all over my bare body.
I couldn’t even think or move. I was depleted of all energy, mentally and physically. My eyes were closed in a state of pure bliss, so much so that I jumped when Michael quickly removed the tape from my mouth and threw it on the ground.
He left me there without cleaning me up or untying me. I let my eyes flutter shut again and realized that as much as I wanted to hate my captor, I didn’t. How could I ever hate Michael? This was happening all over again and as terrified as I should have been, I wasn’t. As much as Michael wanted to hurt me, to punish me, he had no idea that I was my own worst enemy…and I would hurt myself far worse than anyone else ever could.