Chapter Twenty-Seven
Juliet
Why does he have to make me ask for it?
I’m floating in a fuzzy haze of pain and lust, but the shame of having to say it knifes its way through. The fucking vibrations kick off again, getting me close but not quite there, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming.
My throat aches from the aftermath of the gag, my ass is burning, but my pussy doesn’t seem to care. If I could move, I’d be riding the dildo shoved up inside me already. I’d have been doing it for the last half hour. The complete immobility of the chair is driving me insane.
How did Hadrian come up with something so devious? It’s cruel. It’s painful. It’s humiliating.
It’s everything I ever wanted and more.
Fuck.
Somewhere in the last hour, I stopped seeing Hadrian as just my ex-husband.
He’s still that, but he’s Saldar too. Saldar, but better.
He’s giving off feral energy beneath his carefully controlled facade.
Without the mask to hide behind, I can see the strain on his face as he tries to calm himself.
He’s fighting to hold himself back, and it’s setting my blood racing.
But still—why does he have to make me say it?
I hate being forced to talk dirty. Act dirty—no problem.
But speaking the words makes me want to shrivel up and die.
And what he wants me to ask for? Christ. I should be stronger than this.
The threat of a few days without an orgasm shouldn’t convince me to beg my captor to violate me.
He’s done it before, but this time will be different.
This time, it’s really him.
Not a stranger in a mask, who sometimes felt like a fever dream. A real man. A real captor. I still have no idea what is going on, but if I beg nicely for his cock like a good little slave, it doesn’t exactly strengthen the case that he should let me go.
My pussy spasms on the dildo at that twisted thought, and I’d give anything in the world just to be able to move my hand. If I could rub my clit, I’d detonate straight away. It’d be that easy.
Hadrian sighs and drops his hand to his cock again.
How is he so comfortable doing this in front of me?
I once came home early and caught him jacking off, and he was so embarrassed I worried his face would ignite the atmosphere and kill us all.
Yet here he is, handling his cock and staring right at me from eyes that are blacker than I remember.
“If you don’t feel like speaking up…”
He works himself in slow, lazy strokes, and I’m mesmerized. He’d feel so good inside me. Even in my ass, though it’s sore as all fuck. My pussy gives an angry clench, reminding me to hurry the fuck up. If he orgasms, it’s days of misery for me.
Fuck it.
I fight through the paralyzing wave of humiliation and manage. “Please, Master, take my ass.”
There. I said it.
His hand stills, and that brow climbs up again. Such a familiar expression, given new and dangerous life in this situation. “You can do better than that, doll. Convince me.”
Fuck. Him.
My lips feel numb, and my stomach knots as I manage, “Please fuck my ass. I need it. I need to come.”
It’s getting easier now that I’ve got started, and the way he draws in a breath at my words doesn’t hurt either. He likes this. “I want you inside me. Please!”
He smiles, and the lethal expression has no place on his face. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Adrenaline scorches my veins. I did it. I just begged Hadrian to fuck my ass, and now he’s going to oblige. He moves quickly, and I don’t miss the tremor in his fingers as he undoes my restraints. When he reaches the one at my waist, he pauses to reattach the clit clamp.
Finally, all the straps are off. I’m free but still impaled, and my body has forgotten how to move.
Hadrian disappears behind the chair and extracts the dildos from my body.
The whole panel must detach from the chair.
I draw in a breath at how stingy and sore my ass feels.
Why did I beg for this again? It’s going to fucking hurt.
But then the clit clamp buzzes to life, and my brain short circuits. God. Oh God, yes. It runs for a few seconds before it cuts off, and Hadrian chuckles as I groan. “Not till I’m in your ass. That’s the deal.”
He lifts me from the seat. He can carry me about so easily now. I expect him to bend me over the altar face down, his preferred position as Saldar, but instead, he lays me on my back almost reverently. I’ve never felt more like a sacrifice as he pulls my ass to the edge and tips my legs up.
Being face down would have been easier. Staring into his eyes as he runs his cock through the soaked mess of my pussy and lines it up with my ass is intimate in a way I’m not sure I’m ready for.
My mind should be fuzzing over, slipping into the place where only sensations matter, but it doesn’t.
His gaze holds me in the present. Right here with Hadrian.
He presses into me. I’m open from the dildo, but the stretch still makes me hiss, and he cups my cheek in his hand. “You’re doing well, doll. Really well.”
I melt at the praise as he slides himself all the way in; then the clamp comes to life.
It’s different this time, a series of low pulses that build in intensity as Hadrian starts to thrust. I’m braced for disappointment, waiting for it to cut off, but it doesn’t.
Thank fucking God. It’s not strong enough, not yet, but it’s getting there.
Hadrian picks up speed, settles his free hand on my breast, and pinches my nipple as the vibrations ramp up.
Rich tendrils of pleasure uncoil in my guts, and this is where my eyes should be closing, but they don’t.
I’m too fascinated by his face. His lips are parted, and his eyes move with rapid flickers, down my body and up to my face.
The vibrations ramp up another notch, and I’m lost. The orgasm rips through me as Hadrian’s hand slides up and tightens in my hair. Electric pleasure sears me from the inside out, and my body spasms.
He grips my hair harder and hammers into me, breath coming out in short gasps. His eyes close, and he grinds out, “Fuck. Yes. Juliet.”
Juliet.
I’m still riding the aftershocks of pleasure as my name drops from his lips.
MY name. It’s water in the desert after so long without it.
I thought I might never hear it again. His eyes fly open, and the shocked expression isn’t Saldar or his new role as my master.
It’s him. Purely him, the expression he makes when he fucks up.
It’s not enough to put him off, though, and he closes his eyes again as he groans, wrenches my hair, and shoots deep inside me. He stays frozen for a long time as his breathing gradually slows. His skin is flushed, real, human. Not hidden behind a cold mask.
He used me as Saldar and must have enjoyed himself, but I never really got to see it. Now, I study the red mottling on his chest. The beads of sweat at his temples. He fucking loved it.
And so did I.
The punishment chair, the pain, the teasing. All of it scratches the itch I’ve had my entire life, and if the evidence wasn’t right before my eyes, cock still buried in my ass, I’d never have believed Hadrian could do it. But he is.
He opens his eyes, and there it is again, that flash of guilty panic.
Hadrian hates making mistakes. He’s the ultimate perfectionist, and letting my name slip out like that will haunt him for days.
It’s almost funny, given the circumstances, and I’m still giddy enough from the orgasm that I open my mouth to say so, but he beats me to it.
His finger lands on my lips. “Don’t say a word, doll. Think about how you can behave better in the coming days.”
Back to his master tone, stern and uncompromising. I keep my mouth shut. I enjoyed what just happened, but another punishment right now would cross the line into too much. And I have no doubt that Hadrian would do it. If I’m disrespectful, he’ll pull me back into line. He’s just proven that.
My pussy throbs at the thought. Fuck.
He extricates himself from my body and dresses quickly, in a hurry but trying not to show it. I imagine him taking a shower, berating himself the whole time for his mistake, and have to fight back a smile.
God, a shower. I’d give my left tit for a hot shower and not the freezing cold trickle I’ve become accustomed to. If Hadrian lets me out of here, my love of camping will be a thing of the past forever. I’m never going anywhere that’s more than five minutes away from a real bathroom.
What the hell am I thinking? I don’t even know where we are. For all I know, we’re in an underground bunker with a bunch of insane end-of-the world cultists and I’ll never see daylight again. That’s if Hadrian doesn’t keep me locked up in here forever.
Once dressed, Hadrian strides to the door and leaves without a word. Very typical behavior for Saldar, but from him, it feels somehow rude. What about goodbye, asshole? Not that I’d ever say it.
As I clean myself up and wrap myself up in the blanket, my chest feels lighter.
***
The next week—I think—passes in a haze. Hadrian sticks to Saldar’s schedule, visiting twice daily, and doesn’t slip up again. I’m Doll once more, but I don’t mind as much as I did. My name is still there, and he’ll say it again. I’m sure of it.
My ass is permanently sore, as he seems to have decided my pussy doesn’t exist. When did he become so much of an ass man? I asked him why once, and he told me, “You don’t deserve it yet, doll.”
Why does that make me want to earn it? I’m truly messed up.
He doesn’t give me much time for conversation, issuing orders and doling out punishments if I’m slow to obey. I fall into the rhythm of it, just as I did when he was Saldar, but it’s different now. I can’t believe this is all Hadrian has planned for me. There must be more to it.
One morning, I’m working at training Charlie, persuading her to move from her paintbrush to my hand.
A smile splits my face when she does it, tiny legs almost impossible to feel against my skin.
I keep my hand lowered into her vivarium, not wanting to run the risk of her making a dash for it. When the door clicks open, I jump.
Shit.
I’m supposed to kneel, and my body twitches toward the position, but I can’t do it without endangering Charlie. When Hadrian enters, I rush out, “I need to get her vivarium closed before I kneel, Master.”
It’s weird how not weird that name is starting to feel.
“Take your time, doll. Finish what you’re doing.”
I flash Hadrian a quick glance and almost knock the tank over. He’s dressed. His uniform of jeans and bare chest had become as much of a constant as Saldar’s red cloak. Now, he wears a plain black T-shirt.
Nondescript clothing, but my hand shakes as I take in his black combat boots. He’s dressed for the outside world. This is different. It has to mean something is coming. Information. A change. Something.
My fingers are clumsy as I use the brush to lift Charlie off my hand and onto her favorite branch. The lid rattles as I close it, and I take deep breaths to calm myself as I take up my position at Hadrian’s feet.
He leans forward, expression warm. He’s pleased with me. Good. He runs a finger down my cheek, and I shiver at the touch. I find myself holding my breath, unwilling to risk breaking the silence with the slightest sound.
He smiles slightly before he speaks. “Your good behavior has earned you some information. It’s time you learn about the Onyx Brotherhood.”