Page 57 of Crown of Blood

The silk blindfold does its work perfectly, robbing her of sight. The first layer of control stripped away. Each step she takes into my sanctuary is a surrender she doesn't yet understand.

"Stand in the center," I command, voice low but carrying in the soundproofed chamber.

She hesitates just long enough to make my palm itch. To make my cock stiffen with anticipation of her defiance.

"Do I need to tell you twice, little rabbit?"

I watch her swallow, the delicate muscles of her throat working as she takes three tentative steps forward. The dim red lighting casts her in shadows, turning her skin to something almost otherworldly. Like she's caught between fear and desire, between resistance and surrender.

"Take off your clothes," I order, circling her slowly. "Slowly. You wanted to know my secrets so badly... now I want to see every one of yours."

Her fingers tremble at the hem of her sweater, but she doesn't refuse.

She pulls it over her head, revealing the lace bra beneath—black, of course. Teresa knows what I prefer. Every piece of Bianca's life is carefully constructed to suit me now, and that is something she will learn in time.

Her jeans follow, peeled down long legs inch by deliberate inch.

“Lose the bra. And those ruined little panties too. I want your cunt bare.”

She drops the lace to the floor, and fuck… she’s breathtaking like this. Naked. Blindfolded. Standing in my dungeon like a sacrificial offering to the devil himself.

I circle her slowly, dragging a single finger down her spine. She gasps when I cup her tit, squeezing the soft weight, thumb flicking across her nipple until it peaks under my touch.

“You opened my drawer,” I growl against her throat. “So I’m going to open you.”

I retrieve the cuffs I selected already—black leather, silver buckles, soft on the inside, cruel on the outside. I bind her wrists together, then raise them above her head, hooking her to the overhead restraint. She’s on her toes now, tits pushed out, cunt vulnerable and already glistening.

She’s scared. She’s soaked.

Perfect.

“You want honesty?” I whisper, letting my cock press against the curve of her ass. “Tonight you’ll get it. Every inch of it.”

I circle her again, a predator sizing up his prey, noting every goosebump that rises in my wake, every hitched breath when she senses me near. I note the marks I've left on her in days past—fading bruises on her hips from gripping too hard, the shadow of my teeth on her inner thigh. Signs of possession already written into her flesh, little warnings that have been slowing prepping my little wife for this moment.

Tonight requires new marks. Deeper ones.

"Do you know what happens to those who betray me, Bianca?" I ask, letting my voice drop to that register that always makes her shiver.

"I didn't betray you," she whispers, the first words she's spoken since entering this room.

My palm connects with her ass without warning, the crack of it echoing through the chamber. She jerks forward with a gasp, chain rattling above her.

"Lie to me again," I growl against her neck, "and it gets worse."

I strike again, on the opposite cheek, watching the pale flesh bloom pink beneath my hand. The sight sends heat surging through my veins.

"Count them," I command, delivering another blow, slightly harder than the last.

She hesitates.

"If you lose count, we start again."

Another slap, harder. The skin colors under my palm, a beautiful red, flushed, utterly gorgeous.

"One," she whispers.

The second lands with more force, making her jerk against her restraints.

---