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EMILY
The door closes shutwith an ominousthud.
I flinch as the world outside the two of us disappears.
“Oh, Kitty Cat.” He turns around. “You should’ve said no when you still had a chance.”
Maybe it’s the way the door locks, or the absolutemurderousgaze in his eyes, but clarity hits me like a train and snaps me out of my madness.
“I—”
“I gave you a chance.” He starts rolling his sleeves up as he approaches. “And you threw it away.”
Despite my pounding heart, I’m wetter than I’ve ever been before.
Oh God … Oh fuck.
His arms circle me from behind. Thrashing wildly, I struggle, but he’s so much bigger than me. With a single hand, he carries me effortlessly even as I kick and thrash against him. His huge cockstabs at my back as he presses my body against his and drags me towards the chair.
He doesn’t bother replying as he pushes me into the chair, knocking the wind out of me in the process. The chair is bolted to the concrete floor, four circular cuffs attached to the arms and legs. Before I can react, he presses into me, using his weight to keep me still while he attaches the cuffs.
When he finishes binding my last ankle, he steps back to observe his work.
The outline of his cock is jutting violently against his pants. A dark wet spot stains in the front. He follows my line of sight and that dark smirk on his face curls up even higher.
“What’s wrong, Kitty Cat? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
I respond by squeezing my legs together.
He’s right …
Idowant this.
Iwantto surrender everything to him.
Iwanthim to do whatever the fuck he wants to do to me.
Iwanthim to hurt me.
Because if I can get him to hurt me, then it’s easier for me to hate him.
And if I hate him, then it’s easier for me to find a way to escape him.
Pacing around my chair, he begins lifting items off the wall. My pulse goes wild when he holds up a riding crop, studying it likehe’s judging its quality before smacking the leather tip into his opposite palm with athwapthat makes me jerk in my cuffs.
Sweat rolls down my spine, and my pussy issalivatingat the thought of what he’s about to do.
“Oh God …” I whimper
“No God,” he replies. “Only me.”
Wandering close to me, Konstantin drags the soft ends of the crop across my chin, back, and forth, his voice unnervingly calm. “Do you know the best places to strike someone?”
I twist away, trying to escape the tool as he drags it across my lips and across my face.
“It needs to be somewhere that inflicts maximumpain.” He drags it down my neck, drawing a shuddering gasp from my core. “A place where the skin is sensitive.”
The tip of the crop starts drawing circles around my right nipple, and my eyes widen in panic.
