Chapter Eight
B ig mistake.
He pulled out abruptly, leaving me exposed and trembling. My body pulsed from the loss of him, from the sudden emptiness.
Without a word, his hand shot out, grabbing the belt still tightly wrapped around my ankles. One sharp yank—and I was dragged to the top of the bed, sprawling across his lap again, his hard cock pressing into my groin as my bare ass lay before him.
Not again.
I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut, bracing for what was coming.
“I warned you not to disrespect me,” he hissed, his voice sharp and unforgiving.
His hand came down hard, the force of it sending a sharp sting through my body. My eyes flew open, my breath leaving my lungs.
“Goddammit!” I screamed, my voice cracking under the pain.
“That’s it baby,” he murmured, his tone suddenly soothing, almost gentle. “Take your punishment like a good girl. You’ll learn who’s in charge. You don’t talk back to me, understand?”
Another slap—harder this time. I gasped, the burn radiating through me.
“Beg me to stop,” he ordered, his tone unrelenting. “And maybe I’ll consider it. Show me how much you respect me—how much you worship me.”
I froze, the words caught in my throat, humiliation battling with desperation. But there was no choice. If I wanted this to end, I had to play his game.
I took a deep breath, forcing the words out.
“Please… stop, Sir,” I stammered, voice trembling with defeat. “I beg you.” I hesitated, heat crawling up my face before the final words slipped free. “I’ll do anything. I’ll worship you. I’ll worship your cock.”
A low groan rumbled in his chest and I felt him throb beneath me.
But he didn’t stop. His palm came down again and again, each strike sharper than the last, the sound of flesh meeting mixing with my cries.
“Not yet, baby,” he murmured darkly. “Not until I’ve had my fill.” His voice was thick, almost reverent, like he was savoring every second of my suffering.
“Fuck, I love hearing you cry. Watching this perfect ass shake every time I strike it.”
The belt at my ankles kept me locked in place, at his mercy. Trapped. Vulnerable. Finally, just when I thought I couldn’t endure another blow, his hand slowed. His palm smoothed over my skin in a deliberate, almost gentle massage—a cruel contrast to the pain he’d just inflicted.
I trembled beneath him, body raw, breath shaky.
“Good girl, good girl,” he cooed, his touch warm and careful. “You took that punishment so well.”
A small, broken whimper escaped my lips as he continued.
“You understand why I did that, don’t you?”
I nodded, terrified.
His soothing words scared me more than the pain—they curled around me, pulling me deeper into his control.
“Tell me why I had to punish you,” he murmured, still rubbing my sore skin, his grip firm but almost… tender.
I hesitated, throat tight, voice cracking.
“I disrespected you,” I managed. “I… I told you to leave me alone.”
A quiet, shuddering sob broke free, a single tear slipping down my cheek.
His hand reached out, wiping it away, with a touch so gentle it made my stomach flip. “Mmm,” he hummed in approval. “See? You’re learning.” His lips brushed my temple, his voice a low purr. “Soon, you’ll be my perfect little slut.”
A thrill coursed through me, his words doing exactly what they were designed to—pulling me under, anchoring me to him. I chanced a glance at his face, heart hammering.
His eyes were dark pools of blue steel, his lips parted slightly as he stared at my ass. Mesmerized. He looked utterly entranced, staring at the marks he’d left with an almost reverent hunger. For a fleeting second, his expression softened. Like I’d pulled back the curtain, glimpsed something raw beneath the cruelty. A piece of him he didn’t mean to show.
But then his lips curved again, the wickedness returning. The moment was gone.
“Get up.” His voice was firm, commanding.
I tried to scramble off his lap, but the belt at my ankles left me flailing awkwardly, wiggling like a fish out of water. My balance wavered, body tipping as I struggled to find my footing.
“Bend your knees, sit up, heels under you,” he sneered, watching me with clear amusement. My movements were clumsy, and the moment I nearly toppled over, his brow arched, his lips curling into a cruel smile. He shook his head slowly, mocking.
“Look at you,” he taunted, voice thick with condescension. “Wriggling like a helpless little slut.” His smirk deepened, his amusement growing darker. “I love seeing you like this—so vulnerable. Completely under my control.”
His hand grazed my breast as I rose shakily to my knees, his fingers pinching my nipple hard enough to make me gasp.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured, his tone low and dripping with menace. “I’ll train you. You’ll get plenty of practice being tied up, taking my cock, and accepting every punishment I decide you need.”
His grip slid down to my waist, steadying me as he reached for the belt at my ankles. With a deliberate tug, he unfastened the restraint.
I exhaled sharply, the brief taste of freedom almost enough to soothe the burn still lingering on my skin. I spread my knees apart for balance, trying to regain some semblance of control.
His eyes flickered. Like he could read my mind, sharp and knowing.
“You’ll behave now, won’t you?” he sneered, snapping the belt in his hand with a sharp crack— a sound sharp enough to make me flinch.
A threat. A warning.
My throat tightened, pulse hammering against my skin.
“Y-yes, Sir,” I stammered, trembling under his gaze. “I’ll do anything you want.”
His erection pulsed, growing harder, his wicked smile spreading as he drank in my submission.
“Perfect answer,” he said, his voice full of dark satisfaction.
“But just in case you change your mind…”
Before I could react, his arm shot forward, looping the belt around my throat. He fastened it just tight enough to make its presence known, the weight and tension a silent threat with every breath I took.
“If you don’t obey,” he murmured, his voice soft but deadly, “this will remind you who’s in charge.”
He tugged the end of the belt just enough to restrict my air for a moment. Panic surged in my chest as I gasped for air, my vision dimming at the edges, before he loosened it again. My heart pounded as I stared at him, my eyes as wide as saucers.
“Take a deep breath,” he coached me, his tone calm but dripping with authority. “I’m just showing you what will happen if you disobey.”
I nodded, tears welling in my eyes as the belt remained in place, its weight a constant reminder of his dominance. The leather dug into my skin as my chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, my body trembling under the weight of his power.
“Good little whore,” he murmured, that sick, wicked smile returning to his face. “You’re learning to obey. To serve me.”
His gaze roamed over my trembling body as he stroked his cock, reaching for the lube again, spreading it all over his shaft, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re going to take me again, aren’t you?” he taunted, his voice dangerously low. “You’ll take every inch, anywhere I want.”
Rising to his knees, he pushed me down to a sitting position. Grabbing the base of his cock, he smacked it against my breasts, his dominance clear. His hand reached for the belt again and I winced, but he held it loosely in warning. With a calculated motion, he forced my head to tilt back, his gaze locking onto mine.
“Ride me,” he ordered, his voice rough. “I want to see those tits bounce while you take my cock in your ass. Show me you can follow instructions. Otherwise…”
He gave the belt a small, deliberate tug, making his threat crystal clear.
“I can’t,” I said softly, my voice shaking. I looked away, unable to meet his piercing gaze.
The thought of positioning myself like some porn star on his cock made my stomach twist. The belt around my neck barely registered anymore, I was too embarrassed, too humiliated. He could choke me all he wanted—I wasn’t going to be his… anal slut.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for another yank of the belt, but instead, I felt his hand softly graze my chin, bringing my face back to his.
“Look at me,” he said, his tone steady, almost coaxing. “You can do this.”
Hesitantly, I opened my eyes, his words drawing me back into his control.
“You’ll do this to please me,” he murmured, his voice like a dark caress. “You’ll look so fucking hot on top of me, my dick burried deep in that tight ass.”
My lip quivered as his words penetrated my mind, making me feel cheap, like I was nothing more than his plaything.
“I’m not your fuck toy to do whatever you want with,” I said, a flicker of defiance creeping into my voice.
His gaze sharpened, the softness vanishing in an instant. He sat up straighter, pulling the belt taut around my neck, just enough to make me gasp for air. My hands flung to my neck, desperate to loosen the belt. But it was futile. Tears welled as my eyes pleaded for mercy.
“You are MINE,” he growled, his voice low and menacing, vibrating with raw authority. “That means you are my fuck toy. You’re anything I want you to be. And you will obey me.”
His grip tightened slightly as he leaned in close, whispering. “Unless you’d rather me use my belt on your ass, whipping you until you learn who owns you.”
My breaths came fast and shallow as I shook my head quickly. “N-no Sir,” I squeaked, the words rasping from my throat. “I’ll ride your cock.”
“Good girl,” he praised, though his tone was still razor-sharp. His gaze bore into mine, daring me to defy him again.
“Now get on that dick.”
“Yes Sir,” I croaked, barely able to force the words out.
I trembled as I positioned myself over him, my body shaking with a mix of dread and raw anticipation. There was no getting out of this. My hands trembled as I grasped the base of his cock, hesitant, almost unwilling, as I guided it toward my tightest entrance. I paused, looking at him, searching his eyes for confirmation.
“That’s it,” he cooed, his voice dripping with approval. “Lower yourself down.”
A gasp tore from my lips as the head of his cock pressed into me, the intense pressure sending a jolt through my body. Slowly, I began to sink down, each inch forcing my body to stretch and adjust. Pain and pleasure mingled in a way that left me breathless, a hot wave of intensity spreading through me.
I whimpered as I moved lower, overwhelmed by the sensation of being so completely filled. My pussy throbbed, begging for attention, as my body strained to take him.
His head fell back, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. “Your ass is so fucking tight,” he murmured, his voice heavy with lust.
When he opened his eyes, they locked onto the spot where his cock disappeared into me, his gaze hungry, devouring every movement.
“That looks so fucking hot,” he muttered, his hand reaching forward to circle my clit in slow, deliberate strokes.
My breath hitched as the dual sensations threatened to overwhelm me. I moved up and down, taking as much of him as I could, whimpering as his cock opened me up. My breasts bounced in their constraints, drawing a pleased growl from him as his hand came up to cup them.
“So fucking beautiful,” he moaned. “I want you to cum with my cock deep in your ass,” he demanded. “Get down lower on it, take all of me.”
“I can’t,” I whimpered, by body tensing. “This is as much as I can take.”
“You can take me now, baby,” he coaxed, his tone softening. “Now that I’ve worked you in, your body’s ready. Let’s try again from behind.”
His hands gripped my hips with effortless strength, lifting me off him as if I weighed nothing. He guided me onto my hands and knees, his grip firm.
“Face the mirror,” he ordered. “I want to see that pretty face when I’m pounding into you.”
I hesitated, my gaze flickering to my reflection. My flushed face stared back, framed by disheveled hair and the belt tight around my throat—like a mark of ownership. The bra lifted my breasts high, accentuating every curve, while my body trembled under his looming presence.
It all felt surreal, like I was watching someone else.
A wave of shame spread over me as I took in the sight. I looked exactly like what I had become.
His little slut.
His fuck toy.
The realization twisted something deep inside me, leaving me torn between humiliation and a dark, undeniable thrill. Slowly, I positioned myself as he wanted, my breath shaky as I braced for his next attack.
A sharp slap landed on my already burning skin, making me flinch.
“Where’s my invitation?” he growled, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “Don’t forget your manners.”
Heat rose to my cheeks as I leaned down, my shoulders braced against the mattress to steady myself. With trembling hands, I reached back, spreading myself open for him.
“Please… fuck my ass, Sir,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
A low hum of approval rumbled from his chest. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, positioning his cock at my entrance.
With one swift, unrelenting thrust he buried himself inside me.
I screamed—a raw, desperate sound—the brutal stretch stealing the air from my lungs, my body instinctively resisting his impossible intrusion. Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and endless.
I realized that up to now, I’d only taken a few inches of him. But this time, his cock was nearly halfway in on the fist thrust. I gritted my teeth, every muscle in my body seizing up as I braced for the rest. But the pain was too much, too sharp, pushing me to beg for mercy one last time.
“I… I can’t take it anymore,” I gasped, my voice trembling as pain lanced through me. “It hurts too much.”
The tears streamed freely, but through them, I caught a glimpse in the mirror. His reflection stared back at me, his wicked grin twisted with pleasure, his eyes hooded, ravenous.
“You can take me, baby,” he murmured, his hips rolling in slow, taunting thrusts.
His heavy breaths filled the room, his teeth sinking into his lower lip with every movement. He loved this. Everything flicker of resistance, every moment of my surrender–it fed him.
This man is truly psychotic .
And yet, as if sensing my breaking point, he reached out, his touch surprisingly gentle as he wiped away my tears.
“You’re doing such a good job, taking me even though it hurts.” His voice was low, coaxing, filled with something darkly satisfied. “You like it, don’t you? The way pain consumes you when it’s mixed with pleasure. The way it takes over your senses, pushing everything else out.”
“I don’t!” I screamed, a reflex—sharp and immediate. But even as the words left my lips, something dark coiled deep inside me.
Because he was right.
“If you really want me to stop,” he murmured, dragging his fingers over my skin, “just say the word. Otherwise, I’ll keep pushing you. I know just how much you can take, baby. I can feel when you’re at your limit.”
“What word?!” I gritted my teeth, body trembling. “I already told you to stop!”
“Not that word. That’s too easy.” His breath was hot against my ear. “A more dangerous word. You know it.”
What the fuck was he—
Then it hit me. That word.
He was testing me. Forcing me to say it out loud, if that’s truly what this was. To call him on it. And if I did, he would stop.
I let out a slow, unsteady breath, my body aching from his thrusts. He was deeper inside me now, the pressure unbearable, stretching me to my limit.
He stilled, waiting.
But I couldn’t say it.
Because it wouldn’t feel true.
So I stayed silent, burying my face into the pillow, surrendering. Taking it.
“That’s what I thought,” he muttered, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
I let go, surrendering to the moment, letting the tears fall as waves of sensation washed over me. Just when I thought I could only feel pain, bursts of unexpected pleasure crept in, stealing my breath. My body betrayed me, responding to his every movement, every touch.
I gasped as his fingers found my clit, circling with precision. The overwhelming combination of his cock stretching my ass and the relentless stimulation at my clit sent shockwaves through my body.
“Fucking slut,” he hissed in my ear. “You’re my little whore. No one else’s. You understand that?”
I nodded, my breath hitching, the humiliation burning through me, but a thrill coursed beneath it.
“You’ll be sore for days when I’m done with you,” he taunted, his voice low and dripping with dark satisfaction. “Every move you make will remind you of me. Tell me… who will you be thinking about when you can barely sit down? When you’re struggling to walk tomorrow?”
Heat rushed over my skin, my throat tightening around the answer. “You,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I surrendered completely. I swallowed hard. “Sir.”
“That’s right,” he groaned, pumping into my ass, his cock stretching me with each brutal thrust. “Fuck, that’s right, princess.”
He was deeper than ever, but he still hadn’t pushed in all the way. I hadn’t yet felt the full press of his hips against me, the sharp smack of his balls against my ass. A silent prayer formed in my mind, begging that he wouldn’t force me to take more—that he wouldn’t make me take all of him.
“Take it. Take that fucking cock,” he groaned, his pace unrelenting. “You’re mine. Say it.”
Then something in me broke. The pain dissolved into intense, throbbing waves of pleasure. It shot through my body like a bomb, radiating, pulsing from my clit, where his thumb continued to circle me, colliding with the deep ache in my ass, combining to form something so powerful it was all consuming.
“I’m coming!” I screamed, the pleasure searing through me as he finally buried himself to the hilt, just like he’d promised.
“Fuuuuck!!” I screamed. It tore from my throat, raw and unrestrained, like I was going to break through the sound barrier. “Oh my fucking god, Adrian! I’m yours.” I cried out, feeling like I should be detained. A ravenous, wild beast had awakened inside me.
“Fuck, Scarlett,” he roared, his voice a deep, guttural rasp. His thrusts grew frantic, desperate. He pounded into me once more. One final, earth-shattering drive, as his whole body tensed, spilling his hot, scalding liquid deep inside my ass.
“Take it—all of it,” he ordered, holding my body tight against him as his release poured into me. His words sent a final shudder down my spine. He held me there, pinned beneath him, as our bodies convulsed together, locked in the aftershocks. His weight pressed me into the mattress while I gasped for air, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
Finally he rolled onto his back, collapsing beside me. Without a word, he pulled me into his arms, his grip possessive and firm. I shook with the lingering tremors of pleasure, every nerve frayed, hypersensitive.
I pressed into his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, listening to the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat. For a moment, I let myself sink into it—the warmth, the quiet, the safety of his arms.
Then his voice came through, cutting through peace.
“You’re mine. All mine now,” he murmured, his voice low and dark. Rolling onto his side, he traced his fingers down my spine, sending a shiver through me. His eyes locked onto mine, sharp and probing.
“I’ve claimed every part of your body. Your beautiful mouth, your sweet pussy. That hot ass.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse spiking. The words sent a deep, conflicting heat through me—humiliation, ownership. And something even darker tangled beneath it.
I wanted to look away, to escape the weight of his gaze, the raw intensity of his words. But his hand came up, firm yet gentle, holding my face in place, not letting me turn away. Not letting me hide.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his thumb stroking my cheek. “You know I own you now.” His voice dipped lower, thick with possession. “No one else gets to touch what’s mine.”
I shut my eyes, too drained to think. He’d pushed me past limits I hadn’t known I had—physically, emotionally. A part of me recoiled, desperate to pretend none of this had happened. But another part… wanted more.
What’s happening to me?
He held me close, his lips brushing my forehead, his fingers gently sweping the hair from my face. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost reverent. “You were amazing. My princess.”
The tenderness in his words made something inside me shift, soften despite myself. I searched his face, desperate to understand the man before me—this relentless, commanding force who was taking over my life.
“How did you get this way?” The question came out sharper than I’d intended, accusation laced in my voice. “If you wanted me so much, why didn’t you just ask me out? Treat me like a normal person?”
His head tipped back as a deep, unrestrained laugh broke free—a genuine sound I hadn’t heard before. For the first time, I saw a flicker of something human beneath the dominance. A glimpse of the man he kept hidden.
His fingers traced along the curve of my body, gliding up from my hips to my waist as he held my gaze. “I want to give you that too,” he murmured, his voice low but certain. “I want everything with you. But I needed you to see this side of me first. To know how much I need to dominate you. To control you.”
He paused, his eyes darkening, intensity simmering beneath the surface. “From the moment I saw you, something awoke in me—a beast I couldn’t contain.” His voice dropped lower, each word heavy with meaning. “I wouldn’t have been satisfied writing you love letters, holding your hand, making love to you softly.”
A low laugh escaped him, the sound cutting through the tension but did nothing to ease it. He took a slow breath, exhaling as he added, “That would never be enough for me. I had to own you. Completely.”
A knot formed in my throat, the weight of his words pressing into me. And yet… I was beginning to understand. The questions swirling in my mind were far from answered, but a strange clarity settled in my chest, comforting me slightly.
He slid out of bed, his movements unhurried, and returned with a damp towel. His touch was unexpectedly tender as he cleaned me, undoing the belt from my neck and placing it carefully on the nightstand.
“Thanks,” I said, smirking as the tension finally lightened just a bit. “What a gentleman.”
He winked, tossing the towel into the hamper. Standing beside the bed, his gaze softened, his demeanor shifting. He passed me the gift bag he’d brought—the same one the lingerie must have come from.
I reached in, unsure, my fingers brushing over the crisp tissue paper before pulling out a small velvet box.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, his voice low, carrying a hint of pride, as I opened the lid.
I blinked, caught off guard. “But… Valentine’s Day was weeks ago.”
His lips curved into a sly smirk. “I know. I wish I’d made you mine sooner. This will just have to do.”
Inside, a dazzling necklace sparkled in the dim light. A fine gold chain, studded with delicate diamonds, led to a rose-shaped pendant with a ruby at its center. It was exquisite, fragile yet bold. Delicate enough to wear every day, yet striking in its beauty.
I traced the pendant with my fingertips, studying it. Was it real gold, real jewels? Of course it was. It must have cost thousands.
A gasp caught in my throat as the realization sank in. Why would he spend so much on me?
“Why?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
His expression softened, a vulnerability flashing in his eyes—so quick, I almost missed it.
“Because you’re special,” he said simply. “I want you to know how much you mean to me.”
Before I could respond, he gestured for me to stand. Leading me to the mirror, he fastened the necklace at my throat.
The gold and ruby gleamed against my skin, the deep red stone stark against the raw marks left by his belt.
“Why a rose?” I asked, my tone cautious, half-expecting some teasing remark comparing it to a part of my body.
But he surprised me.
“Because of that poem you wrote. In high school.”
I blinked, struggling to remember. Then it came to me—the piece I’d written for English class that got published in the school newspaper. Comparing people to roses. Delicate. Their thorns capable of inflicting pain. Yet still carrying a quiet sweetness, despite their danger.
Emotion swelled in my chest, and I spun to face him, my eyes misting. His gaze locked onto mine—intense, unrelenting. But beneath it, there was something unspoken. A question. A hope.
He lifted my chin, his thumb brushing over my jaw.
Then he kissed me—deep and claiming, stealing the breath from my lungs, his tongue invading my mouth, mingling with mine. His kiss was as hungry as his body had been earlier, a raw, possessive need that sent heat pooling low in my stomach. I moaned into him, surrendering. Letting him have all of me.
Finally, I pulled back, my eyes wet, heart hammering. A sudden rush of emotion welled up, raw and overwhelming. I pounded my fists against his chest, desperate, shaking.
“Why didn’t you—why weren’t you like this from the start?” I sobbed, tears slipping past my lashes. My hands balled into fists, pressing into his solid strength. “Why? Why torment me for years?”
Silence. A long, suffocating pause. Then, his hands moved to my wrists, gently prying me open, baring my chest to him.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. His voice was low, almost uncertain. But his grip was sure.
“This is me. Who I am.” He exhaled, his fingers brushing my jaw, voice dropping to a charged whisper. “I’ll be anything you want me to be.”
A promise. A plea. “I’ll take you on dates, buy you roses. Jewelry. I’ll give you everything.” His hands slid lower, possessive. Wanting. “I want all of you.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering at my jaw, his touch deceptively tender. Then his lips parted and his voice turned to silk, rich and deadly.
“But don’t think for a second,” he murmured, “that I’d ever let you go.”
His thumb dragged slowly over my lower lip, his voice turning velvety, dangerous. “Even if you fight me, even if you run… I’ll always catch you.”
His hand slid down, gripping my ass, firm but possessive. Not a threat, but a claim.
I glanced up, my breath hitching despite myself. That face—gorgeous, masculine, all sharp lines and brooding intensity—it was a trap. A beautifully constructed snare I didn’t know how to escape.
A thrill coursed through me as his eyes locked onto mine, his lips curving into a knowing smirk. The bastard knew exactly what he did to me. And he loved it.
My breathing quickened, thoughts spiraling. How could I crave his dominance, his control, after everything he’d done to me?
And then there was Ryan. A pang of guilt twisted in my gut. Sweet, patient Ryan. He made me feel special, cherished. He’d honored my wish to wait, never pushing my boundaries. He was everything Adrian wasn’t—safe, steady, predictable. Could I even go back to him after all this? Could I pretend Adrian hadn’t rewritten something inside me?
Adrian stepped closer, pulling me into his arms, his hands moving over my body, with slow, deliberate carasesses, each touch igniting a fire that I wasn’t sure I wanted to distinguish.
“Let me make you feel good,” he murmured, easing me back onto the bed. His hands glided over me with practiced precision, massaging every knot, every ache. The tension in my body unraveled beneath his touch and a soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.
In that moment, I realized it didn’t matter. Logic, reason—none of it stood a chance against him. Right now, I was choosing Adrian. Maybe tomorrow I’d regret it, once the ache of everything he’d done settled in. But for now, I let myself go, surrendering to the sensations as they washed over me, drowning out the questions, the guilt, and everything else.