Page 91 of Depravity

I take more care with the brand; it is a family heirloom after all. I place it so that the hot end isn’t touching anything and then I’m cleaning up the wound, sterilising it the way I read, before putting a big white bandage over it.

It’ll take a few days before I can show her what I’ve done but when she wakes, she’ll know anyway. Besides, she doesn’t have to see it, not when she knows I’ve done it right.

I sink back down, feeling for the first time in hours, like I’m back in control.

She looks so peaceful now, like sleeping beauty. All patient and waiting for her Prince Charming to come save her.

I guess it wouldn’t hurt, would it? She is after all, my property.

My lips twitch as I pull my clothes off and spread her legs wide. Normally she’d be fighting me in some way, normallyshe’d be protesting. It’s nice to not have that for once. It’s nice to remember how we were the first time.

I push myself inside her. She’s not as wet as I usually find her, but then, I did just burn a bloody great big hole into her skin. Even if she isn’t aware of it, her body will be.

I run my hands down over her soft skin, cupping her breasts, taking my time while I have it.

“So beautiful,” I murmur, “So fucking beautiful.”

Her lips don’t react as I lean in and kiss her. I pull her jaw open just enough and slip my tongue inside.

I can still taste the hint of our dinner there. Perhaps I should have made her brush her teeth before bed? I guess it doesn’t really matter now.

With my hips, I start thrusting, working my cock in and out. This time it doesn’t feel like I have to race, like I have to dominate. I can fuck her slowly; I can take all the time I want. I can stay here all night, buried in her cunt, revelling in the feel of her.

It’s like I’m back in that room in the Monclere house. Only, thankfully her bitch of an aunt isn’t there, spoiling it.

“I love you so much,” I murmur.

All I want is for her to say it back. All I want is for her to open her eyes, to reach for me, to kiss me.

Why is that so hard? Why does she have to still fight me?

I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to do any of that, but she won’t let me love her, she won’t just give in.

“I’d be so good to you,” I state, brushing her hair back, “I’d buy you so many jewels, so many pretty dresses too. You’d be the envy of all your friends, all the other Brethren Ladies. Wherever you went people would watch you. You’d be able to go to the parks, to the beach. We could enjoy ourselves together, we could…”

I screw my hands up, forcing myself not to squeeze them around her damned neck.

She’s the one ruining this. She’s the one ruining all of this.

I just want her to love me. I just want that one simple thing. Why is that too much to ask?

I’m groggy, so fucking groggy. I go to roll over, but my arms are tied.

I’m tied?

I blink rapidly, looking around, realising with horror that I’m here, in this damned room again, tied up like a doll.

“Morning, beautiful,” Conrad says, stroking the strands of hair from my face. He’s sitting there, on the bed, next to me like he spent the entire night watching me sleep, waiting for this moment.

“What is this?” I hiss.

Only then do I register it. The pain, the horrific sharp pain on my chest. I look down, ignoring the lingerie that he’s apparentlydressed me in, and I can see that large white plaster taped above my cleavage.

No.

No.

Please, no.

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