He runs the flat of his palm down my breasts and abdomen, sliding it between my legs. I close my eyes and moan as he slips two fingers inside me. I clench around him, milking the pressure, trying to push myself closer to the edge before he pulls away. I pant, and he lets me ride his hand. The orgasm builds within me, threatening to pull me under, but he withdraws and shoves his fingers inside my mouth. “Lick them clean.”
A frustrated cry escapes me, but I do as I’m told.
“Taste yourself, Pet, and when you do, remember that you could have chosen to put your greedy little hands on me and this might have ended up a lot differently. Instead, you touched what’s mine, and now you’re going to pay for it.” He pinches my clit so hard I see stars. “Sweet dreams, little one.”
Sir walks away and turns out the lamp, throwing the room into shadow. A lonely cry escapes my throat as he climbs into bed. He doesn’t cover himself with the sheet, and the moonlight streaming in through the crack in the curtains spills across that strong, powerful body.
It’s agony. I squeeze my thighs together and slump against my chains in utter despair.
I hate him.
I want him.
I love him.
I hate myself.
***
“Wake up, Pet.”
My eyes snap open, my world tilting on its edge as the pain in my limbs sets in. My arms, shoulders, and wrists are on fire. I’ve felt agony like this only once—the last time Sir left me hanging from the ceiling.
Ares slides a hand between my legs, stroking my clit, running the length of my crease. “Soaking fucking wet. Just the way I like you. Even after hours spent trussed up like a naughty little whore.”
The pleasure mingles with the pain in my body, and I don’t know which I need more. The pleasure to distract me from the pain, or the pain to remind me that he’s my captor, not my lover, not my boyfriend. He’s sick, and I must be too, because he makes me forget myself. He makes me forget everything but his touch.
Sir unfastens the chain on my left hand. It drops to my side, a dead weight. Shooting pain lances up my arm.
Ares unbuckles the cuff and takes my wrist in his hand. I try to pull away, because the idea of him rubbing my arm, increasing the blood flow, and stirring up more sensation is torture.
“Shh, Pet.” He massages my arm vigorously. “I’ll make it all better.”
Fresh tears spring from my eyes. “It hurts.”
“Because you’ve hung on them all night.”
“Why do you do this to me?”
“I told you there would be consequences to your actions, and you touched yourself anyway.”
“It’s my body.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong.” He releases my arm and grabs my breast, squeezing hard. “This is my body, and I’ll treat it how I see fit.”
I can’t do anything but sob through the pain, so I let go. I cry, because I know he likes my tears, and maybe if I let him have them I’ll get to come.
Ares unfastens my other arm, freeing me from the chains that held me all night. He slowly lowers it to my side. His strong hands work the abused muscles, kneading and drawing the blood back in while pushing out the stagnant energy. I cry the entire time and lean in as he pulls me back against him. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.
Exhausted, cold, and emotionally spent, I let him pull me back to the bed. Sir sits me in his lap. His arm wraps around my waist, holding me so I won’t topple, and I lean back into his embrace.
“My poor little, abused Pet.”
“Please, Sir. I’m so tired.”
“I know. That’s why your punishment will wait until later. For now, you may sleep.”
“Thank you, Sir.” I groan with relief. But when I expect him to let me go, he doesn’t. “Sir?”