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I close the distance between us in an instant, gripping her jaw with just enough force to make her eyes widen. “I know you will,” I murmur, my thumb brushing over her lower lip, slow and possessive. “Because if you don’t…” I lean in until my lips are barely an inch from hers, my breath mixing with hers as I whisper, “I’ll punish you. And we both know how much you like my punishments, don’t we, little nightmare.”
Her pupils dilate, fear flashing across her face, but underneath that, just like every other time— something darker.Her body betrays her before she can protest, her breath catching, her thighs squeezing together again like she can’t help herself. I can see it, feel it, the heat rising off her, and the way her skin burns under my touch.
“You don’t like to admit it, but your body doesn’t see a reason to hide it from me.” I grin against her skin, nipping at her ear. “You can’t lie to me. Not when your pussy squeezes my cock while you pretend to hate it. To hate me… You don’t fucking hate my punishment. You don’t even hate me. That’s the truth, little nightmare. Youneedit.”
“I understand,” she whispers, barely audible, her voice trembling with fear, and something she’s trying desperately to hide.
But my girl can’t hide from me.
Not anymore.
I smirk, straightening up and ruffling her hair like she’s nothing more than a pet I’ve trained. “Good girl.” I pull away, pacing toward the fridge like nothing happened, the sound of the bottle cap hissing as I pop it off the beer, filling the silence.
Behind me, I hear her shaky exhale, followed by the faint scratch of pen on paper. She’s focused, trying to think of every little detail, trying to be perfect. But I know better. She’s thinking about what happens if she messes up. About what I’ll do to her, and I know, deep down, she wants me to do it.
She wants to push me, to see what I’ll do to her next.
Because there’s no denying it, not anymore. Shecravesthe punishment. Needs to feel my hands on her, my control over her, even if she tries to fight it. That’s what makes hermy little nightmare. She thinks she can resist, thinks she can play the victim, but her body tells me the truth every time.
“I’ll place the order tomorrow,” I call over my shoulder, smirking to myself as I take a long sip of beer. “And don’t forgetto add wine to that list. Your friends like that sweet shit, don’t they?”
There’s no answer, just the pause of her pen scratching across the paper. I can almost hear her heart beating faster, can practically taste the conflict swirling inside her. She’s already given in, already surrendering to what we both know is inevitable.
This isn’t just about control, about owning her life. It’s about owningher, completely. Every dark thought, every twisted desire. She belongs to me, and there’s no way out. No escape.
And I’ll make sure she knows that. Every second. Every day.
This? This is only the beginning.
Chapter Nine
CARA
Plastic grocery bags are thrown around the kitchen, and I’m picking them up one at a time while Rhett messily unpacks the groceries he ordered for Friendsgiving. I still can’t believe he’s actually on board with letting Friendsgiving happen, but then again, he knows how much they mean to me. He knows I won’t do anything to jeopardize their lives. Sloan is my closest friend and I’d never do anything to put her life in danger. I can’t.
Balling up the bags in my hand, I stuff them all into one grocery bag, and then I put it in my pantry for later use. I always reuse grocery bags because it feels like such a waste to throw them away after one use.
Rhett sets a box of stuffing mix on the counter, and I grab it, adding the box and a bag of potatoes to the pantry. He’s planning on cooking theentirespread for Friendsgiving. Everything from the turkey, to the mashed potatoes, to the green bean casserole and pumpkin pie. He mentioned something about creamed corn, but I tuned him out when I realized he was making a perverted joke.
As Rhett puts the last of the groceries in the refrigerator, I sigh, running my hands through my tangled hair. “I think I’d like to take a bath.”
He stops what he’s doing, and slowly turns toward me, meeting my eyes with his. He’s looking me up and down, and I can tell he’s trying to decide what to say.
After a moment, he finally says, “Okay. I’ll be down here if you need anything. I’ll look for a movie to watch later.”
I’m frozen in place, shocked. He’s actually going to let me go upstairs by myself? A few minutes of privacy and alone time? Hovering in one spot, I have a hard time getting my legs to start moving. Words are hard to form when all I can think about is what this means.
Progress.
Actual fucking progress.
He’s trusting me to be alone. He’strustingme to be without him for more than a quick trip to the bathroom.
“Okay,” I finally nod. “Maybe we can watch a thriller or an action movie? We’re running out of horror films to watch.”
He turns away from me, back to a carton of eggs he bought for deviled eggs. “Don’t take too long,” he says softly, leaving a hint of warning in his voice.
My voice cracks when I respond. “Okay.”
