Chapter 15 #2
I stay like that for a moment, my cock twitching at the sound of her soft sobs, before reaching up to trap her nipples between my fingers and twisting.
She cries out and the sound makes me harder than ever.
I start to pound her hard, driving deep within her, my balls slapping obscenely against her bottom.
She’s still tight in spite of our daily fucking, her pussy milking my cock in a way that almost hurts.
But she’s so wet and I’m so hard that I’m able to slide into her easily.
I let go of one of her nipples and she exhales in relief, but it’s only a temporary reprieve as my hand finds its way first to her hair, pulling it back roughly, then to her neck, closing my fingers around her, feeling the beat of her pulse.
I squeeze just a bit, just to remind her that her airflow belongs to me.
Her life, too. Her body, her soul, her everything.
Everything but her goddamn mind.
I keep going, settling into a fast, hard rhythm that leaves both of us breathless.
She’s no longer able to stay arched in position under my continued assault.
She falls to the bed and I crash on top of her, working her relentlessly.
One of my hands still clasps her neck, the other leaves her nipple to find her clit.
I rub away the wetness, and I can tell it drives her frantic.
Moments later, I feel her spasm around me. She comes, her body shuddering under mine, as thick strings of cum fill her pussy.
We stay still for a long time, my cock still deep within her. She’s the first one to stir, but I keep her trapped under me for a while longer, reveling in my strength over her. She has no choice but to submit.
And she doesn’t seem to mind. She merely sighs in apparent contentment as I nip at her ear.
“You’re going to make me a baby,” I whisper, so low that I wonder if she’s heard. Her wide eyes are the only thing that betrays she has.
Well, fuck.
All my resentment is back. Withdrawing my cock from her, I lift a hand and let it fall hard on her already pink ass. She yelps in surprise.
I can’t tell if my desire to give her another spanking comes from arousal or frustration. But I smack her once more, harder than I meant to, then again and again, resentment overtaking all else.
Her wide eyes just now reminded me that everything still feels wrong. Upside down.
She’s mine. My possession. I’ve fallen in love with her, and that in itself is insane.
But her own feelings remain guarded, and that’s the part that drives me mad. Something is going on, and she won’t tell me. When did I stop being able to read those violet eyes of hers?
I can glean just enough from her stressed reactions to realize that she doesn’t share my enthusiasm about the future.
The ring on her finger doesn’t seem to mean a thing.
The house in the countryside clearly fills her with dread, and I have a feeling it’s not only the dirt.
And any mention of children is met with wide eyes and a tied tongue.
What the hell is going on?
I snap out of my thoughts as I realize I’ve been spanking her longer and harder than I’ve meant to. Far harder than the flogging. Everything I do lately is tempered by the memory of that horrible beating in the woods. But now, I’ve turned her ass a mottled crimson.
And she never uttered a sound.
Which means she’s accepting that this is punishment. Real punishment, just like the beating.
Overwhelmed with remorse, I crash down beside her on the mattress. Her face is wet with tears, and my heart feels like lead in my chest. I dry her cheeks with a finger and press my lips against hers.
“I love you, do you know that?” I whisper.
As the words leave my mouth, I’m aware it’s the first time I’ve said them.
She looks at me, blinking slowly.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I say, trying to keep a touch of humor in my voice, but it sounds harsh and distant.
She moves her lips a few times before managing, “Thank you.”
It’s all I can do to keep from responding to those words with another volley of punishing smacks.
But I’m not a monster.
Okay, well, that’s not true.
Still, I’m determined not to play that part anymore with her. I’m going to restrain myself, even if it costs me my sanity.
Clenching my jaw, I turn away, leaving her helplessly hogtied to the bed.
I may be determined not to be a monster, but that doesn’t mean I’ll restrain myself from being an asshole.
I won’t hit her again, but this way she’ll remember she has no power.
She might keep me out of her mind, but she has no say when it comes to her body.
As I hear her heavy breathing behind me, I allow myself to sink into bitter thoughts.
I was once perfectly satisfied at the knowledge that I could soothe her with a touch of my fingers, punish her with my hands, come and go as I pleased as she helplessly waited for me to visit her.
But that form of control doesn’t satisfy me any longer.
I may have bought a house, and I may have decided that she’s going to live there with me, whether she wants to or not.
But I can’t control her mind. No matter how hard I try.
She holds the real power, and it scares me. Not just scares me. Infuriates me.
But my anger is tempered by admiration at her resolve. Under the quiet exterior, she’s made of granite. Despite everything, she’s remained strong. And guarded. Which I guess I can’t really fault her for. I was cruel to her. I’m lucky she belongs to me at all.
The painful memories are enough to melt my fury, or rather, to turn it inward. To direct it at myself. But I crush it deep down at the sound of an uncomfortable cough.
I turn back to her, a smirk playing at my lips as I see that she’s blushing. She’s so cute when she blushes. Almost as cute as when she’s angry.
“Uhm… Damien? Do you think you could untie me?”
I run my eyes over her gorgeous body, her dark hair framing her pale face, her breasts crushed against the mattress, the torture I inflicted on her nipples searing them a bright red, her ass crimson. Beautiful. Goddamn beautiful. And all mine.
Well, mostly.
“And why should I do that, pet?” I ask, my voice dark with desire.
“Uh…” Her blush deepens. “I have to pee.”
I let out a loud laugh, half-hoping to make her angry. Because the truth is, it’s kind of addictive.
But instead, she just looks relieved. I guess my punishment, the real one, scared her.
But when her long lashes bat at me, I don’t see fear in her violet eyes. Just a pleading expression. She really wants me to untie her.
My smirk deepens. “How long do you think you can hold it in?”
“I have been holding it in,” she admits, blushing even harder. “Can you uncuff me? I promise I’ll let you tie me right back after.”
“Oh, you’ll let me?” I chuckle. “I didn’t realize you were letting me do anything.”
She buries her flaming face in the sheets.
I can’t resist teasing her a bit more. “Just wet the bed, pet. I can always buy a new mattress.”
“Damien!” she exclaims in a stifled voice.
“Fine, fine.” Making a mental snapshot of her body, stretched and helpless, I undo her restraints then prop her over my shoulder and carry her to the bathroom like that, ignoring her yelps of protest. I’m tempted to force her to pee in front of me, just so I can exert a bit more of the control that feels like it’s slipping through my fingers.
But I take pity on her. “Don’t be long,” I warn, closing the door.
Then I head into the spacious closet next to the bedroom. Time to go visit our new home. Now that the house is finally ready, I’m impatient to see it. I grab a few garments from the rack and fold them into a suitcase. If we decide to stay for good, I’ll have the rest sent over.
Early this morning, I had texted Vincent a list of requests, and I check my phone to make sure everything’s finalized.
I asked him to find me a private, secluded bridal boutique and an even quieter wedding planner.
If my pet behaves, I’ll allow her to choose the cake flavor and the dress.
Vincent also organized a church wedding, because I may be a Devil, but that doesn’t mean I’m not planning to get married in a church.
And whatever Seraphina’s secret thoughts are, she’ll do as I say.
She’s getting married to me, whether she wants to or not.
I still control a few things. Her future, namely.
And during the eight months that I believed her dead, I was haunted by visions of what could have been.
My girl in a white wedding dress, at the altar, promising to love and obey me for the rest of her life.
Now that I have her again, I will, at the very least, force her to speak those last words.
Obey me.
I made sure Vincent would find places far away from here.
I have no doubt he’ll spill the beans to the others, but at least I won’t have to deal with Logan’s smirks or Everest’s over-the-top enthusiasm.
Nor do I want Igor’s cruel eyes glinting at me, reminding me of what I am deep down…
a criminal, a sadist. Not a man fit for a sweet girl like Seraphina.
After the wedding, we’ll head up to our new home.
I’m impatient for Seraphina to see it, and to see it myself. I wonder if the smell of dirt will prevent her from liking it. I’m not that much of a monster. If she truly can’t stand it, we won’t stay.