Page 42 of Code of Captivity

“Yours, Master,” I sniffed and placed my head on his chest to listen to the steady beat of his heart.

Was it strange to be comforted by the man who tried to ruin me? The monster in him that tried to destroy what little fight I had left inside of me. The same monster whose eyes shone with reverence when he looked at me—not as a broken toy with pity, but he saw the survivor in me fighting to live—to breathe. For the first time in my life, I felt connected. Two broken souls recognising each other in the darkness of this world.

My silent tears continued to soak his shirt until I had no strength left in me to keep my eyes open.

???

My eyes snapped open as Master moved away. “Please,” I whispered, clinging to his warmth by grasping his white shirt.

My fear was irrational, but the fear of his rejection was worse.

“I need to use the bathroom, Bunny,” he said, raking his fingers through my hair before kissing my forehead.

“Sorry, Master,” I sighed before releasing his shirt, feeling silly for needing him beside me.

“Don't worry about it, Bunny. You know I will make you pay for it later,” he said, curling his fingers around my throat.

My breath hitched as he covered my collar before he yanked my head up. His lips covered mine, violent, possessive and endlessly devouring my lips. With a growl, he plunged his tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss.

The first kiss from my monster was everything I’d dreaded and secretly dreamt of. I reached up and touched his cheek, stroking it until I felt his prickly beard before lashing my tongue against his. He groaned and gripped my ass, grinding his hard cock against my naked flesh. The soft material of his trousers was a contrast to the long, hard beast inside them. I mewled in protest when he broke off the kiss.

“Don’t move a fucking inch until I get back,” he growled in his familiar surly manner, now laced with something dangerously close to tenderness.

Alone in the aftermath, I lay staring at the ceiling, one hand resting where my chest no longer felt like they were cracking under the weight of old sorrow. The emptiness inside me that I’d carried since childhood—didn't ache. It...hummed. Like a wound finally scabbing over after years of bleeding.

The realisation shuddered through me—this was what healing felt like. Not gentle. Not kind, but a brutal reconstruction, the bone snapped back into place without anaesthetic. His violence had been the scalpel with his unexpected mercy, the sutures.

I sat up and crawled to the edge of the bed, placing my face on the bed and lifting my ass in the air, waiting for the pain only he could give me.

Chapter 27

Adrik

As my Bunny slept, I conspired with Viktor to arrange an appointment with the doctor. Her old monsters would perish in the most gruesome ways possible. There was only room for one monster who lived to torment her, and that was me. I got what I wanted, as I always did. My bunny finally broke for me, and it was a bittersweet moment. She would emerge more potent than ever. I was living proof that it could be done. I rubbed my chest because her strength mirrored my scars.

I washed my hands and exited the bathroom. We were treading on new territory. My footsteps stopped in their tracks when I saw her kneeling on the bed with her goddamn legs spread open. My eyes moved over her tattoo.

Adrik’s Pain Slut.

A cold, stark reminder of our dynamics. The turmoil within me settled, and my sadistic monster came roaring to the forefront.

“What did I tell you, Bunny?” I asked casually, walking toward her.

“Not to move,” she said, turning her face on the bed to glance at me.

“My exact words were for you not to move a fucking inch until I got back,” I said, unbuckling my belt.

“My ears were blocked, and I didn't hear every word you said,” she said, her eyes glittering with mischievousness.

It was difficult to believe that this was the woman who shattered in my arms mere hours ago. I pulled my belt out and slowly began to wrap it around my palm, watching her eyes become glued to the action. Part of me admired her audacity, but the darkest part of me sought to ruin it—crush it beneath the heel of my shoe.

She spread her knees wider, displaying her wet pussy and practically waving her white tail in the air to surrender. I traced my fingers over her healing tattoo, tightening my grip around the belt. My dick was hard from a simple kiss, and taking a piss with a full-on boner wasn't comfortable.

Someone had to pay the price.

“Pain slut,” I whispered before cracking the belt on the bed, relishing how she jumped in fear and anticipation of the blow.

I got the wipes and lube from the nightstand before pulling her tail out to set it on the wipe. The whip marks were practically gone from her back and ass. The tasselled whip hadn’t left any marks, but my belt would. Her asshole was tilted up, and her pussy was clear for my belt. The image of the crystal handle in her ass was still seared into my memory.

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