Page 58 of His to Own

“My mother didn’t like it.”

“You eating?”

I nod.

“Well, you’re mother was wrong. You should eat. Don’t starve yourself, Elena.”

“She would be horrified you said that. She always wanted me and my sisters to be as skinny as possible.”

“You’re naturally slender. You’ll be fine. Eat.”

I stare at my food and shudder before pushing the plate away. “Another time. I’m not hungry right now.”

His eyes narrow. “Eat, Elena.”

“No,” I challenge.

“Do I need to spank you again?”

I gasp. My body remembers the feeling. The pain of it and then… the pleasure. How aroused I got when he did that to me. But why? Why am I feeling this way? Why do I hate Maxim for wanting to own all of me and why do I want to give in completely and let him take all my pain away?

“Would you like that?” he asks. “For me to spank you? And then I can play with your pussy again if you’d like. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

I swallow hard. How am I supposed to eat with him talking to me like this? “I’m not sure.”

“Always so unsure. You’re cute, Elena. But sometimes you hold yourself back too much.”

“I didn’t ask for your advice on how I should be as a person,” I grumble.

“You’re sassy this morning. I like it.”

I immediately snap my lips shut.

“I can play this game all day,” he says. “So either eat or I’ll touch you. Which do you want?”

I hate that he asks me. It’s giving me too much choice in the matter. Because what kind of person am I if I choose for him to touch me? All the pain and blood his hands have caused.

“I’ll eat,” I finally answer. I force the eggs down my throat and I hate every bite. Maxim nods and leans back in his seat but I can sense he’s a little disappointed. He wanted to touch me.

I wanted it too. That scares me most of all.

Professor Romanov decides to make my life hell.

I arrive to class early and follow along with the assignment for the day. But I can’t help it when I find myself writing a poem in my journal during her lecture. Just for a moment. Shakespeare seems so far away from what I’m going through in life. Unimportant. I need to write.

So I write. I write all about what Maxim did to me. The pleasure he showed me. The pain he caused. And how free I had felt, for just a moment. It naturally comes out of me in a poem.

And of course, that’s when Professor Romanov calls on me. “Miss Karetov, do you have anything to add?”

I stop, right in the middle of my poem. “Uh…”

“You were writing. I’m assuming you were taking notes. Do you have anything to add?”

Today, we’re going over Hamlet. I loved the play when I read it but right now, I hate every part of the old text. My brain can’t focus on my studies the way it once did after Maxim entered my life. Before Maxim, school was my safety place. But now… I don’t know what it is. Not when I have my intimidatingly handsome husband at home.

“Add?” I ask.

She frowns and it causes creases to form between her eyes. Not a good look, my mother would say. “Yes. To the class. You were on time for once. I figured you were in good form today. So do you have anything to add to the discussion? I don’t like it when people are quiet in my class.”