I don’t speak because I’m afraid of more reproach, so I don’t say a thing.
“Do you understand?”
I nod, but this isn’t the right answer. He glares down at me with one eyebrow arched.
“Yes, Sir,” I bite out through my teeth. He puts his booted foot at the base of my spine and presses down hard. I have no choice but to move forward over my knees or risk an even greater punishment.
“I don’t like your tone, Pet. Say sorry now.”
“Sorry, Sir.” My voice comes out panicky and shrill. I hate how pathetic I sound, sniveling like a small child, begging him for mercy when I should be looking for ways to escape. Anger wells in me. I don’t understand. Why does he need to play these games with me? Why keep me at all? There must be a million women out there who would willingly agree to do the things he wanted. Why did he have to take me?
“Mean it, Pet.” His boot presses harder into the base at my spine, and it dawns on me, he could crush me like this. He could snap me in half like a twig, and I would be gone.Murdered. For a beat, I entertain the idea. Would it be the worst thing? Surely ending my life swiftly would be a much greater mercy than being forced to submit to his every dark desire?
“I’m sorry, Sir.” And I am. I’m sorry he ever laid eyes on me. I’m sorry I ever woke up from what was clearly a vicious blow to the head. I’m sorry I asked to leave the cell downstairs, and I’m sorry I ran to him for protection when his brother sought to kill me.
The toe of his boot nudges against my sex. I stiffen, but I don’t make a sound. He teases my clit, and I try not to squirm. I’m so swollen and engorged, my pussy drenched and throbbing for more. I put up with his musings until I can’t help but writhe against him, seeking more pleasure. I’m a pathetic being, ruled by need because my orgasm is the only escape I have. It’s the only way my mind can be free of him, even if it ensures my body becomes a little more enraptured, a little more imprisoned, by his touch every day.
“Keep still.” Ares’ deep, husky voice dances over my skin like a melody.
I nod, and try to do as he asks, but his boot is teasing my clit again, and my legs quake. The dreaded whooshing of his belt assaults my ears before the leather bites into the soft flesh of my ass.
I scream. The white-hot pain forces me to roll out of the fetal position until he strikes again, this time catching the tender crease between my ass and thigh.
“Get back into position, and keep still.” His voice is raised barely above a whisper, but the unspoken threat in his tone is loud and clear.
I shake my head, and attempt to sit up and cover my ass with my hands, but he’s having none of it. He beats me again. This time, the pain lashes my arms, hands, and buttocks. I scream. He roars.
It goes on like this for what seems like an eon, the agony searing hot, and eking out like the tail end of a comet. I know it must only be minutes, but every lash feels like an eternity, and the stillness between each blow, the anticipation, becomes a torture all its own. My body burns with the welts as they raze my skin.
“Please, Sir, please stop. I’ll be good, please.”
“When you show me you can sit still, then I’ll stop.”
I sob and lean forward. I don’t want to, but I have no choice. I want the pain to cease.
So I present my ass. I know it will get worse before it gets better. My whole body writhes in agony as I allow my tears to spill on the soft rug. With each tear that falls, and each blow against my beaten, bloody flesh, I vow to kill this man. That will be his tithe to pay. One day, I’ll escape. I’ll be free, but my freedom will come at a price—Ares’ life. It seems a worthy exchange. After all, he stole my life. It’s only fair that I should take his.