Chapter 33 Delilah
DELILAH
It’s dark when I feel a presence looming over me. I refuse to acknowledge Helene, so I pretend to be asleep, but she gets closer and softly kisses my temple.
“Koukla mou?”
“Kane?” I spring up.
Cupping the side of my neck, he traces my bottom lip as he holds his finger in front of his lips.
He’s here and he’s had a haircut, but there’s so much sadness in his eyes as he leans over me.
Before I can ask him if we’re leaving, he draws me into his arms like he needs me to breathe as he shakily whispers, “I’ve missed you so much. ”
“I’ve missed you too,” I admit.
He buries his face into the crook of my neck. “My Delilah.” His arms are like iron bands caging me in as he carries me into the bathroom without turning on any of the lights until we’re trapped inside. I’m unprepared for the sheer exhaustion on his face when he flicks the switch.
“Are we leaving?” I ask, clutching his face with both hands.
He shuts me up by softly kissing me. I don’t want a distraction anymore, so I push my weight down to escape him. Weaving his fingers through my hair above my nape, he pulls my head back to lightly nip under my jaw with his teeth.
“Ka-Kane.” My voice wobbles as I try to claw his attention back to the conversation, but he continues kissing a path down my neck while lowering to his knees.
He holds my waist, nosing my hoodie up to uncover the belt.
As soon as it comes into his sight, he relaxes.
He jumps up, wrapping his arm around my waist, the other hand around my neck.
His kiss is full of need, forcing me to lean back to escape the intensity.
Only for him to guide me into the shower without removing his lips from mine.
When he reaches for the switch to turn on the spray, I lightly push against his chest. “Your clothes are going to get wet.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he snaps, pulling my hoodie over my head. “I need to fuck my wife.”
He lifts me off my feet to drag my sweats down my legs, then uses his foot to pull them off in his urgency. The chastity belt doesn’t allow any space for his fingers, and he groans before he abruptly drops to his knees, tugging at something under his collar.
The shoelace holding the key leaves red lines on his cheeks as he roughly drags it off. It doesn’t stop him from unlocking the belt as it clatters against the tile.
I’d become accustomed to feeling it on my skin, so the air touching me is strange. Kane reverently traces the small bruises the belt left behind, his lips fluttering against them as he whispers, “I’m sorry, pretty girl.” He continues kissing down my stomach.
I panic when he reaches my hips, slamming my palm against his forehead to push him back, my face heating.
“Don’t stop me again.” He wraps his fingers around my wrist. “You are mine.”
“I’ve had it on for ages,” I whisper, skin flaming.
Why am I embarrassed? He’s the one who put it on me, and his face is right there without any disgust. I’ve kept myself clean, but I can’t stop the thought that I’m not clean enough, so I push against his head again.
“If you’re not going to let me eat my favorite meal,” he says lightly, “put on a show for me.”
“You’re not leaving again.” I grab his hair, pulling his head back.
He massages the outside of my thighs as he softly says, “I will always come back for you.” Pressing a kiss to my stomach, he whispers, “Find our baby while I make sure we’re all safe.”
How do I tell him I can’t do it? Helene is hellbent on torturing me. She’s never distracted enough for me to search through the house. Even if I did, I don’t even know where to start so I’ve been hiding in the bedroom, the window ledge, or the roof to escape her.
“Can you do that for me, my pretty girl?” he asks, hope lightening his pale green eyes as he stands.
“Yeah, I can,” I lie.
The warmth of his palm glides along my cheek as he softly presses his lips to my forehead. “Good wife.”
Isolation has messed with my head because I blush instead of telling him I’m not his wife.
He slowly walks backwards, smirking like an idiot, then leans against the sink as I turn the shower on.
For once, I’m not forced to rush through the motions or stare at the door in fear of Helene barging in while I’m exposed.
The first time she did it, she stared at me.
The second time, she attempted to strike up a conversation as I covered myself with my arms. When Lennox came, she accused me of fucking him.
Now that Kane’s here, he won’t allow her to do it again. Hopefully.
“Fuck,” he groans low in his throat as I bend forward to pick up the body wash.
His steps slam against the tile and I’m roughly tugged backwards by my hips. There’s no other warning as he buries his face between my thighs while slapping my ass. I have to catch myself against the tiles, my fingers slipping against them as the spray beats down on my nape.
“Don’t fucking move,” he moans into me.
My eyes roll back in my head as he painstakingly slowly pushes two fingers into me while teasing my clit with the tip of his tongue.
The dichotomy of the slow pace of his tongue compared to the brutal way he fucks me with his fingers works me up faster.
My body sways, chasing more of his tongue, less of his fingers—wanting him either way.
I reach behind me, searching for his hair to get more, but he pulls away from me. Can I have one fucking moment where he doesn’t switch personalities on me?
He wraps my hair around his fist, pulls me out of the water, then forces me up on my toes as he fits his lips by my ear. “Play the game, Delilah.”
Helene is watching us again.
He grabs my throat, gritting, “You filthy fucking whore.”
I don’t have to fake my choking when he squeezes harder, pushing two fingers into my mouth.
“Have you forgotten I own you?” He marches me out of the bathroom.
The bedroom door is open an inch. It’s too dark to see anyone standing in the shadows, but I can hear the stick tapping as Kane throws me face-first through the thin drapes around the bed.
I kick backwards, catching his thigh as he climbs over me while undoing his belt then pulls his zipper down.
There’s a pause as he pushes me deeper into the sheets, distorting the sounds in the room.
The sheets are covering my ears, amplifying my own heartbeat as they rustle against my hair.
A deathly cold wraps around my ankle and I scream. The sheets absorb it as I continue kicking, thrashing, anything to get it off. Kane is on top of me. It’s not his hand. He’s not the one forcing my legs apart. He’s letting someone else touch me.
The same is done to my other ankle as he lessens the weight against my back.
A click vibrates around the room.
Both of my ankles have been secured in cuffs with something between them, forcing them further apart. The harder I fight the restraints, the further they pull my legs apart.
“Stand back,” he barks. “It is my job to make her obedient.”
Tap.
Step.
Tap.
Step.
It’s Helene.
“Further!” he roars as he kneels between my thighs, covering me. “She is not entertainment. This filthy thing is a means for my power, so move back while I get it.”
He places his palm flat on the bed in front of me, curling his fingers into the sheets, flexing his wrist. It’s fake.
This Kane who sees me as nothing more than an agreement between our families is fake.
It’s a game, like he said. So I push my face into the sheets, forcing my body to become limp as I hold the cuff of his shirt.
And when he roughly pushes inside me in one thrust, I scream out like I’m in pain.
Kane runs his fingers up my nape, gripping my hair at the root. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
I continue screaming as he fucks me in brutal strokes.
Each one is progressively harder than the last while he pushes my face deeper into the sheets.
My scream is cut off as he tugs my head back, forcing me to look up at the ceiling.
Those pale green eyes nearly glow in the small amount of light seeping through the open bathroom door as he leans over me.
My, he mouths, filthy whore. He spits down in a line as I smile, opening my mouth to catch it.
Wrapping his free hand around my jaw, he forces my head back even further. His fingers dig into my cheek and jaw, but the other side is gentle as he sweeps his thumb against my jawline, out of sight from his grandmother.
I push my hips up in thanks for his attentiveness, instantly regretting it when it pushes him deeper into me. I can’t escape the intensity as he tightens his hold on my head.
Come for me, he mouths, tilting his hips. Just for me.
Make me, I mouth back, clenching around him.
We’re both fucked up because he smirks. I have the urge to laugh even with the tapping in the room.
He slowly massages down my jaw to wrap his fingers around my neck, quirking his brow as he squeezes.
My moan is trapped in my throat from the lack of air, forcing my heart to beat faster.
Fear mixes with my endorphins, flooding my body with a beautiful mix of emotions, making the world drop away.
A garbled scream leaves me as he alternates the pace of his thrusts.
Some hard, hitting a spot that builds my release, others slower.
The slow ones are worse, they allow me to feel every inch of his dick.
He lightly shakes his hand on my neck, causing my fingers to slip from his cuff, then mouths, Play with that needy clit. He spits in my open mouth.
I open wider so he can see me place two fingers against my tongue before I slip my hand under my body and circle my clit. He pushes his hips forward, trapping me beneath him, controlling my fingers to be in time with his thrusts.
“Fuck,” I moan.
He tightens his fingers around my neck. “You are for me to use, not fucking listen to.”
The bite of pain against my scalp, my air being cut off, the way he fucks me harder has my entire body shuddering. My fingers shake against my clit as he mouths, That’s my wife.
One thrust. My dirty wife. Another thrust. My pretty girl.
Light bursts behind my eyes and he stills in time with me with his lips pressed to my hair—out of sight from Helene. Still covering me as much as he’s able to. Still showing me care when we’re forced to hurt each other.