Chapter 19
Belle
My heart slammed against my ribs—fear and fury tangled so tight I couldn't separate them.
I'd known he'd be pissed. Knew the moment I stayed late at the bookstore instead of sitting in those stands wearing his name like a brand that there would be consequences.
But knowing and experiencing were entirely different things.
Especially when Gideon looked at me like this—jaw clenched, eyes dark with something beyond anger. Something possessive and wounded and dangerous all at once.
"Strip."
The word came out rough. A growl more than a command.
My stomach dropped.
"There's no way in hell—"
"Shut up." He cut me off before I could finish the sentence. "You knew you were playing with fire by deliberately disobeying me."
His hand shot out, gripping my chin hard enough to force my eyes to his.
"This is your punishment, and you'll take it." His voice dropped lower. Colder. "Strip now, or it will be worse for you." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Do not test me."
The air between us crackled with tension—volatile, suffocating, inescapable.
I wanted to scream at him. Tell him to go to hell. Remind him that signing a contract didn't make me his puppet.
But the look in his eyes stopped me cold.
Not cruelty.
Not sadism.
Control hanging by a thread.
And I suddenly wasn't sure what would happen if that thread snapped.
My hands shook as I weighed my options.
Fight and make this worse.
Comply and survive it.
Neither felt like winning.
I swallowed hard, tasting bile and pride in equal measure.
Fine.
If he wanted this over with, so did I.
I grabbed the hem of my shirt with trembling fingers and yanked it over my head. Tossed it aside without looking at where it landed. My bra followed—quick, mechanical, stripped of any grace or seduction.
Just obedience wrapped in fury.
My jeans came next. I stood on shaking legs long enough to shove them down my hips along with my underwear. Kicked them away.
Then I stood there.
Naked.
Exposed.
Hating him.
Hating myself more for giving him this.
"There." My voice came out rough. Defiant despite everything. "Happy now?"
Gideon's eyes raked over me slowly.
Not lustful.
Assessing.
Like he was cataloging every tremor, every flush of humiliation coloring my skin.
"Not even close."
His gaze burned over me, dark and hungry, like he was memorizing every inch of skin I’d just bared for him. My pulse hammered in my throat, shame and something worse—something hot and traitorous—twisting low in my stomach.
"Spread your legs."
The command was rough, a growl that scraped along my nerves. My face flushed, heat crawling up my neck, but I clenched my jaw and didn’t move. Not at first.
His voice dropped lower, darker. "Either you can do it." A pause. A threat wrapped in velvet. "Or I can."
I swallowed hard. My legs trembled as I forced them apart, the cool air hitting places no one had ever seen before him. My breath hitched, humiliation burning through me like acid.
Gideon exhaled sharply, almost a groan. His eyes locked between my thighs, and the sound he made—low, approving—sent an unwanted shiver down my spine.
"Fuck, Belle." His voice was rough, almost reverent. "Look at you. So pretty. So fucking perfect."
I hated it. Hated the way his words made my skin prickle. Hated the way my body reacted, heat pooling where his gaze lingered. Hated that part of me—some sick, traitorous part—liked the way he looked at me. Like I was something rare. Something his.
His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was fighting the urge to reach out. "You’re dripping for me," he murmured, voice thick. "Even when you hate me, your body knows who it belongs to."
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. "I don’t—"
"Don't fucking speak." He cut me off, stepping closer. The heat of him radiated against my bare skin, making me ache in ways I refused to name. His breath ghosted over my collarbone, then lower, until his lips brushed the shell of my ear. "Your cunt doesn’t lie, Belle. It’s wet for me. Always wet for me."
A whimper clawed its way up my throat before I could stop it. His chuckle was dark, satisfied, as he pulled back just enough to see my face.
"Good girl," he murmured, like I’d done something worth praising. Like I hadn’t just sold myself piece by piece. Like I wasn’t drowning in the wreckage of my own defiance.
His fingers tightened on my jaw, forcing my gaze to his. The heat in his eyes burned through me, searing away every last scrap of resistance. I could see it there—the promise of endless nights like this if I didn’t obey. The threat of something darker if I fought.
My breath came in sharp, uneven gasps. The air between us felt charged, electric, like the moment before a storm breaks. His thumb brushed my lower lip, rough and possessive.
"Now, Belle," he murmured, voice a dark velvet command. "Touch yourself. Let me see how you like it."
I hesitated, my body trembling with humiliation and something worse—something hot and aching that made my fingers twitch with the need to obey. My face burned, but I couldn’t look away from him. Couldn’t pretend this wasn’t happening.
"I want to watch yourself play with your body," he continued. "I want to see how you make yourself come. And when you do come, you'll scream my name so you know who's making you feel like this. And if you don't… if you don't, I'll make you do it again and again until you do. Do you understand?"
I clenched my teeth together, praying the tears wouldn't come.
"I need to hear you say it," he said.
"I understand," I snapped.
He smirked. "Then begin."
Slowly, my hand drifted down between my legs. The first brush of my fingers against myself sent a jolt through my body, sharp and unwanted. A whimper escaped my lips before I could stop it.
Gideon’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he watched. "That’s it," he murmured, voice rough. "Just like that. Show me how you make yourself feel good."
I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, but my fingers kept moving, circling, teasing, my body betraying me with every shuddering breath. The pleasure coiled tight inside me, shame and need twisting together until I couldn’t tell them apart.
His hand slid from my jaw to my throat, not squeezing, just holding me there—trapped between his body and the wall, his gaze burning into me as my fingers worked faster, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Look at you," he growled, his voice thick with something raw. "So fucking beautiful when you’re like this. When you’re mine."
I wanted to scream at him, to tell him I’d never be his.
But my body arched into my own touch, my hips rolling against my fingers as the pleasure built, relentless and overwhelming.
My cheeks flushed, my skin slick with sweat, my entire world narrowing to the heat between my legs and the man watching me with dark, hungry eyes.
"Come for me, Belle," he ordered, his grip on my throat tightening just enough to make my pulse spike. "I want to hear you scream my name when you do."
I shook my head, my body trembling on the edge, my mind screaming in protest even as my hips jerked forward, chasing the release I didn’t want to give him.
"You will," he promised, his voice a dark whisper. "Or we start all over again."
His cock strained against his sweatpants, thick and heavy, the outline obscene. My stomach twisted, heat and revulsion warring inside me. I hated the way my body reacted—how my pulse jumped, how my fingers twitched between my legs. How wet I was.
Traitor.
Gideon’s voice dropped to a growl, rough and commanding.
"Stick two fingers in your dripping pussy, Belle.
" His breath was hot against my skin, his lips brushing my collarbone before his mouth closed around my nipple.
The sharp pull of his teeth sent a jolt straight to my core, and I gasped, my back arching against the wall.
I obeyed.
Two fingers slid inside me, slick and shameful, my body clenching around them. A whimper escaped me, high and needy, and Gideon groaned against my breast, his tongue swirling before he sucked hard enough to make me cry out.
"Fuck, just like that," he murmured, his free hand gripping my hip, fingers digging in possessively. "You take them so well. Imagine how you’d take me."
His words sent another wave of heat through me, my fingers moving faster, my breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. His mouth was relentless, switching to my other nipple, lavishing it with the same brutal attention.
"I can only picture you pregnant with our child," he growled, his voice vibrating against my skin.
"Your glorious tits growing heavy with milk.
Leaking for me." His teeth grazed my nipple, just enough to sting, and I moaned, my hips jerking against my own hand.
"Fuck, I can only imagine what it would taste like—sweet and rich, just for me. "
My face burned, shame and something darker, something hungrier, coiling tight in my stomach. His words should’ve disgusted me. Should’ve made me scream, should’ve made me fight.
Instead, my fingers curled deeper inside me, my thumb pressing against my clit, my body betraying me with every shuddering breath.
"You’d be so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his lips trailing down my stomach, his breath hot against my skin.
"Round with my child. Mine. Only mine." His hand slid up to join mine, his fingers pressing against my wrist, guiding my movements. "You’d beg for it, wouldn’t you?
Beg for me to fill you up, to breed you like the good little girl you are. "
His fingers tightened around my throat, just enough to make my pulse spike, my breath come in sharp, desperate gasps.
The pressure of his hand between my legs guided my own fingers deeper, forcing me to touch myself the way he wanted.
My body responded despite everything—my hips rocking, my back arching, my skin flushed and slick with sweat.