Chapter 35
The Prey
Embarrassed and scared, I stashed the burnt veggies into the dustbin and eyed the remaining stock.
There wasn’t much left now after over-cooking the soup four times in a row.
I had a shameful confession to make: I did not know how to cook.
In my defence, my mother never taught me, or simply, I never wished to learn.
I could do other chores though—washing, laundry, cleaning, mopping, or even repainting the whole house—but cooking?
I couldn’t fix a sandwich to save my life.
And now, I was saving my life.
If this kept up, I hardly thought Judas would let me leave after emptying his fridge and ruining three of his pots.
Heaving a defeated sigh, I shook my head in frustration. Cook? What the hell did he want me to cook? Or better, why did he want me to cook? What games he was playing now?
Whatever it was, I was glad he wasn’t forcing me or placing his unwelcome lips on mine.
His touch infuriated me. My first instinct was to knee him in his precious jewels and scratch his eyes.
However, I resorted to a less violent plan.
To follow his orders. Cooking for him was better than sleeping with him by a long shot.
So that’s what I did. Or was trying to do.
I was grabbing another stash of mushrooms and veggies when a sudden chill ran down my spine, my breath momentarily hitched, and my body stiffened.
I felt him before his voice reached my ears.
“My little bird is struggling, I see,” I stilled the moment his dangerous voice purred into my ears. I ignored him and kept cutting the veggies.
But Judas wasn’t the type to be ignored.
He stepped closer, his presence like a storm gathering on the horizon.
His breath tickled the back of my neck as his hand snaked around my waist, slipping under the blazer he had forced me to wear earlier.
His touch was invasive and cold, and I tensed at the unwelcome incursion.
“Such a good little chef,” he mocked. I see, so he was back to his overbearing self, calling me little bird and all. “But I can’t help but wonder… are you trying to cook for me, or poison me?”
I tried to jerk away, my body reacting on instinct, but he was faster. His pelvis pressed into my back, trapping me against the counter. My breathing quickened, heart pounded in my chest as I desperately searched for an escape. My eyes darted around, landing on a sharp knife just within reach.
But the spawn of the devil saw it too. His hand shot out, grabbing the knife before I could even move. He held it up; the blade catching the light as he twisted it between his fingers.
“Ah, getting braver.” He chuckled, and I flinched as he pushed his pelvis into my behind. “But let’s not get any ideas, hmm? I wouldn’t want to have to ruin that pretty little face of yours.”
His other hand tightened on my waist, fingers digging into my skin as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Now, be a good girl and finish what you started. Or I might just find another way to keep you busy.”
Rage flared within me, fuelled by fear, but I didn’t let it consume me. Not yet. “Get off me,” I hissed through clenched teeth, my voice trembling with barely suppressed fury.
He reached for my nape, and I flinched back out of pure survival instinct. “Now, now, is that any way to speak to the man holding a knife?”
Everything in me told me to escape this man, to stay as far away from him as possible.
His grip on my waist tightened, and before I could react, he spun me around to face him, slamming my back against the counter. The impact stole the breath from my lungs, but I refused to back down, glaring up at him with all the hatred I could muster.
His lips curled into a smirk, and a shadow cast a darker hue over his face. The knife hovered near my jaw, the blade pressing just enough to send a spike of fear through me. The sharp edge grazed my skin, a stark reminder of how easily he could end this—end me.
“I hate disrespect, Ptichka. Either you lower that tone, or we’ll do this my way.”
“You don’t own me—ah!” The words choked off as his hand fisted in my hair, yanking me around and forcing me over the counter.
My cheek collided with the cold surface, and my heart hammered in my chest, eyes wide with terror.
He leaned in, his nose brushing against my hair where his fingers gripped me like a vice, then trailing down to the soft curve of my throat.
Shudders wracked my body, goosebumps breaking out in waves, one after another.
His hot breath tickled the shell of my ear before he bit down lightly, his voice a tight, threatening whisper. “Watch that mouth, little bird. It’s going to get you into trouble.”
My eyes widened even more as I tried to glance back at him, but his iron grip kept me pinned. “P-please—”
“I’m trying not to hurt you, Ptichka,” he hissed. “But don’t mistake my leniency for ignorance. I’ve let your little stunt at the college slide, but you play the innocent while letting some boy put his hands on what’s mine.”
I ground my molars together, struggling to steady my breath. “I didn’t—”
“Yes, you did,” he cut me off, his tone laced with venom. “Do you enjoy men fawning over you? Do you know what that makes you? A slut.”
Pain choked my words as he yanked the hem of my jeans down roughly, the fabric scraping against my skin. The kitchen’s warmth was a stark contrast to the cold air that hit my exposed backside.
Judas’s hand cupped me through my plain panties, and I gasped. The touch was far from tentative—it was possessive, a claim. “Were you planning to fuck him, little bird? Or do you prefer a man to take away your choices and do things for you instead.”
Nothing. I wanted nothing from him. Shame washed over me as he held me down, my half-naked body on full display for his twisted pleasure.
Judas bunched the fabric of my underwear in his hand, yanking it tight so it dug into my core, rubbing with a cruel, merciless force. I clenched my thighs, desperate to push him away, but the cunning bastard only quickened his pace, driving me to the edge of the counter, trembling and humiliated.
I was still writhing in his steel-like grip when a sharp slap echoed through the air, and the burning sting registered on my arse.
I froze; the sudden jolt of pain slicing through the shame, my heart nearly stopping.
“Keep squirming, and I’ll make sure your ass matches the flush on your pretty face. ”
“It’s too much—”
Another slap landed, sending me jolting against the table, my hands gripping the edge like a lifeline. “Come on, Ptichka, defy me again, and I’ll spank you until you’re the obedient little girl I know you can be.”
“I… I won’t…” My voice cracked, the threat of tears clawing at my throat.
Slap. “Won’t what, Ptichka?”
“How does it feel, Ptichka?” he purred so seductively that it sent a jolt of pure desire straight to my core despite every resilience. “Having my saliva coating your walls? Feeling how badly you want to swallow me whole?”
He withdrew his finger just enough to tease the opening, and I unconsciously winced at the emptiness.
“Savor it, sweetheart,” he growled, rubbing my wetness. “Because very soon, it won’t be just a finger. It’ll be me. And soon enough, it’ll be my cum bathing your greedy, beautiful cunt, filling you up until you can’t think of anything but the taste of me.”
A violent tingle wrecked through my core, leaving me trapped in a feverish tug of war between the desperate urge to scream in frustration and the shameful, aching need to press my naked arse back against the massive, pulsing heat of his erection.