Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Let’s try this again.”
I couldn’t speak. My jaw hurt as I waited for the pain to end. For the nightmare to be over.
For my bedroom.
My family.
My friends.
My safety.
No matter how attractive he was—he would always be the monster.
He jerked his hand away, and I heard him shuffling around.
“Lift your head.”
Slowly, I did.
“Now, crawl to me and come lay next to me.”
“Lay next to you?”
“Did I ask for questions, pet?”
I wanted to scream but screaming meant I’d be punished, and I was just too fucking exhausted. Over the last week, he only came into my room to feed me from his hand. Three times a day, making me look forward to his company and the comfort of the food he always brought with him. Each time, we played this same game.
Master.
Pet.
He talked about random things, praising and complimenting me on my manners. Telling me how much of a good girl I was for him. It was sick and fucking demented; he made me need him. To think about only him. When he would be back, when he would be with me again, when he would feed me, touch me, tell me how beautiful I was.
Surrendering.
Complacent.
Broken.
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“Good girl.”
Those two words, those two fucking words, I looked forward to them too. Getting on my hands and knees, I did as I was told. The instant I sat beside him, he didn’t hesitate in the least. Laying my head on his chest. I think I froze for a few seconds.
“Relax, pet, and go back to sleep.”
There was something about the way those words just effortlessly flowed from his mouth that was calming, peaceful, so I shut my eyes. When I woke up later, I was alone. He was gone, and I instantly missed his warmth against my skin, his heartbeat against my ear, his body against mine.
Further reminding me, I truly was his.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Juliet
Two Weeks Later
I was used to it now. The loneliness, the way it wrapped itself around me like the blanket that was on my bed. I was used to him now, the smug wicked looks from my master. The way he stared at my body like he wanted to eat me alive, only to kill me later. He was the only human contact I had, the only voice I heard, the only…
The only…
The only…
The list was endless, and I felt so weak, needing him, depending on him, missing him as if he were my lover and not my villain in this reality of what my life had become. I craved every last single thing about him—from his company, to his hands, to his body, to his masculine scent and his words. There wasn’t a part of me that didn’t yearn for him. I knew it was sick; it was the only way I could survive this imprisonment. In this golden cage, he captured me in. It was all part of his sinister plan, succeeding in what he threatened, what he promised, what he knew would happen in the end.
I was ashamed, humiliated, broken.
And yet, I still longed for him in ways I never thought possible. Wiping the tears away from my cheeks, I waited for the inevitable. He walked in.
Two steps.
Four.
Ten.
He was sitting on the chair by my bed, and like a perfect pet, I crawled to him. Except this time, I laid my head on his lap, wanting something more. He didn’t punish me for not submitting; understanding my silent plea, he rubbed my head so gently.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I smiled. Seeking refuge in his storm.
CHAPTER NINE
Juliet
Two Weeks Later
The door opened.
His smile returned, but this time it looked almost hopeful as he took five steps into the room, shut the door, and made his way over to the bed I was laying in. It was late; I was starting to fall asleep. I wasn’t a good girl the day before, and all day today, I was tied to the bed, spread-eagle again. My punishment for throwing a temper tantrum was that he wouldn’t allow me to wear any clothes, and I was over being naked.
He turned a full-on smile against me like a weapon.
“I’m going to touch you now.”
My head hung to the side. I didn’t have the strength or ability to hold it up any longer as I laid there, waiting for the worst. I shuddered when I felt his hand caress the top of my mound. He was gentle and tender, smoothly running his fingers up and down. My breathing elevated, and I couldn’t control the tears, the confusion that was pouring out of my shaken body.
It was when I started to cry.
Break down.
Fall apart.
“Shhh…” he whispered.
At first, I thought I imagined it, but then I heard it again. “Shhh…”
It was low and vibrant.
“Shhh…”
That sound would forever be embedded in my mind. I didn’t dare say another word. The simple yet powerful sound of what he was implying burrowed deep among my bones and made itself a home. His hand continued to caress me in a back and forth motion. I wanted to defy or say something, but I wasn’t ready for the repercussions.