Chapter 8 Olivia
Olivia
He can’t just take me and expect me to bend to his whims. He thinks he's my Master. He can go fuck himself. I’m not some sort of sweet little thing, so desperate to live I’ll let him whittle me down into nothing.
I refuse to give in to him. I take out the bottom drawer of the dresser.
Or rather, I rip it out. I pick it up by the handle.
It’s fucking heavy and made of real wood, but I’m able to swing it with all my weight against the side of the armoire.
It barely breaks, and that makes me even angrier.
I scream out and swing it again. This time it cracks and splinters, and falls into large pieces.
One board almost lands on my foot, but I move it in time.
I pick up a small splinter that split off and shove it under the duvet in the bed. I'll start storing weapons.
I breathe heavily, staring at the armoire.
I want that fucking door. I can see myself smashing it over his head.
Or maybe using it as a shield to break down the bedroom door.
It looks heavy, but I only need one chance.
I toss the board onto the floor and grab the door to the armoire, tugging it, trying to bring it down.
I hold onto the door as the armoire tilts and gravity takes over as it falls to the floor with a loud crash.
My hand on the door slips, and it smacks my arm as it falls.
Fuck! That hurt like a bitch. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise.
I almost kick the damn thing in my rage, but that’d be worthless.
Instead I grip it and pull, trying to break it off. I’m tearing this fucking door off, and then I’m smashing through the door to the bedroom keeping me prisoner. I’ll fucking break my way out of here.
“What the fuck!” The door slams open and Kade stares back at me with a look of contempt.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he sneers at me. My chest heaves. I don’t know. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, but it doesn’t matter. It was my choice. And I'll do whatever I want.
He stalks toward me and I grab a piece of the drawer that broke off. I point the jagged edge at him. He wants to tame me, break me, fuck me… well then he’s going to have to fight me first.
“What are you going to do with that, angel?” His dark voice sends a warning that makes my breathing come in frantic pants. I ignore the pulsing desire deep in my core.
I can see him overpowering me, ripping my weapon from my hand and making me pay for disobeying him.
But he just punished me last time. Tears prick my eyes and my throat closes as a lump grows.
I don't want this. I don't want any of this.
This is some fucked up twisted mix of a nightmare and fantasy.
Kade pauses on his way to me, sensing my anger starting to wane. He holds his hand up like he’s approaching a wounded animal. And maybe that’s what I am. But he made me this way. It’s his fault. I fucking hate him.
“Olivia, put it down.” No fucking way. I shake my head and hold up the board with my trembling hand. I try to steady it, but I can’t.
The reality of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m fucking dead. I can't fight him. Even with this board, I don't stand a chance. But at least I'm trying.
I shake my head again and the second I blink away the tears, he’s on me. I scream as his body slams against mine and he pushes me down onto the rug. He grabs the board before I can do anything and pulls it from me.
I thrash under him, but his weight is too heavy. He cages me in, leaning his chest against mine.
“Shh, it’s alright. Calm down.” He whispers comforting words into my ear. His hand rubs along my hip and up my side then back down in soothing strokes. His lips barely touch my neck with his head safely nestled in the crook of my neck. The position also forces me still, unable to move much at all.
Minutes pass. My racing heart starts to slow, and the adrenaline rushing in my blood begins to melt away. I lie still under him, not knowing what he’s going to do next.
“You shouldn’t have done that, angel,” he says after a long while. His hand steadies on my hip.
“I’m sorry.” The words slip past my lips instinctively. Am I sorry? No, I’m not sorry. Not right now. I don’t know what the consequences will be, but right now, I’m not sorry.
“Did you really think having a tantrum was going to help you at all?” He tsks in my ear.
He slowly rises, pinning my wrists down at my side. It’s only then do I feel his raging erection against my hip. My eyes widen, and I force myself to look anywhere but at him.
I can’t breathe.
“Get on your knees, angel.” I shake my head, but I’m not given any choice. He flips me over and splays his hand on my shoulders, leaving me prostrate and completely vulnerable to him.
My breathing comes in ragged pants. “This would hurt to spank you with, angel,” he says as he places a piece of the broken armoire against my bare ass. I hold my breath waiting for the blow. But nothing comes.
“You’ve already hurt yourself with your display of disobedience, haven’t you?” His fingers gently touch my arm and I wince. I can’t see, but I’d be damned if there isn’t already a bruise there.
His fingers run along my spine and down to my ass.
He leans down and plants a tender kiss on my neck.
“I understand, angel. I do. But you can’t behave this way.
” My pussy heats, and my back bows. I instantly regret it, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
Shame replaces my arousal. He places another sweet kiss on the nape of my neck this time, pushing my hair out of his way.
“I can’t allow it,” he says with a deep voice laced with regret.
Smack! His hand comes down hard on my ass. Smack! The pain shoots through my body. It's a sharp, stinging pain. My skin reddens with his repeated blows until I’m crying hysterically into the rug.
My ass and thighs sting. My eyes are swollen with tears. “Shh,” he tries to comfort me, leaning down to kiss me again, but I pull away. I hate him. I hate him with everything in me.
“Now now, angel, you knew this would happen. Didn’t you?”
I hate how he makes it seem like it was my fault. How could anyone blame me for trying to get out of here? I don’t want this.
“I told you, you need to be good for me.” I bite my tongue to keep myself from telling him to fuck off. I don’t want any more punishment. He leans down to comfort me again with his hand still on my stinging ass, and again I move away from him.
“Let me comfort you, angel.” No, fuck that. He hurt me, I won’t seek shelter from him. No matter how much I want it. He pulls me into his arms and although I don’t fight back, I don’t lean into him either.
My ass burns as he moves me closer to him. I try not to whimper and hold it in. I won't let him see how much it hurts.
“I don’t want to hurt you, angel.” I hate that he keeps saying that. If he didn't want to hurt me, then he wouldn't. It's as simple as that.
“I wanted to keep you to myself, but now you’ve given me no choice.” My heart rate picks up. “I don’t have much time, and it’s obvious you’re going to fight me.”
I risk a glance back at him as he says, “I’m sorry, angel.” I don’t believe him for one second. I know the sympathy and compassion in his eyes are complete bullshit. “I didn’t want this for you.” He’s a liar.
Tears roll down my cheeks and I don’t even bother to brush them away. He lays a hand on my cheek and I hate that it brings me warmth. “Please,” I beg him again, “just let me go.”
“If only you knew.” I turn away from him, hating how he’s acting like this is out of his control.
He huffs a humorless laugh. “I’m taking you to a place where you won’t get away with this. You’ll be running to me to keep you safe.”
My body chills at his words.
“I won’t let them hurt you.” I look deep into his eyes and some na?ve part of me believes him.
“But you won’t get away with this shit over there.”