Page 44 of Hades

The scent of her fear was strong, curling around his neck almost like a caress. He stepped forward, eyes narrowing when she flinched as he reached down and lifted her back to her feet. Her wrists were manacled by his hands, held tightly to his chest, harder when she struggled to free herself. All his strength, held back, not leashed, there was no need for that, he was master in his own domain. There was no escape for this one now until he allowed it.

Dark dominance coated his throat, tasting her perfume, it was soft and floral andinviting. She should learn quickly for her sake to listen to him, to obey as soon as possible and to adjust to this new situation, because as spontaneous as this was, Hades was more than sure what her path was.

She belonged to him.

What was he going to do with her?

Any fucking thing he wanted to. The roar was loud within and welcoming.

He wanted to turn her the fuck out. Destroy her confidence, break her will, own her with a glance, have her jump with his command. He’d be her master and she his glorious fucking pet.

He cupped her face, making sure she felt the bite of his fingers in her delicate cheekbones, she felt like one snap of his wrist and she’d crumble under his hand and his strength felt all the bigger. Not because his size dwarfing her cowering frame, shoulders sunken in, it was the fear that made him hard, that had him chuffing in air, excited for the first time in a long time.

Owning. Dominating. Terrorizing his arousal. It was all the same symphony.

Her exhale came out as a whimper and he smiled.

"Welcome home, sweet love."

Startled, she reared back, anchored by his hands, and tried with all her small might to hit him. How cute, he thought. How fucking cute.

“FUCK YOU.” She spat. Actually, spat in his face and he wanted to see how she tasted, would she be sweet? Tart? Bitter? He’d have it all. “My name is ZARA! And I’mleaving.” His slap connected swiftly to the side of her face. One quick snap of his palm to cold skin, her head reared back, leaving behind a glorious print of fingers. Sucking in a breath, he saw red for a moment and then it was gone, he smiled and leaned in closely. Telling her. “Don’t anger me again.”

Tears continued to pour down her face, not a blemish in sight. She was so incredibly perfect, a doll come to life.

No, not a doll. They were to be treasured and cared for.

His fuck-toy was breakable and would bleed.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Your love is my torture.”

For weeks he tasted her wildness as he sought to tame it. To break it. To fucking own every square inch of it.

What does a trained whisperer do when its horse won’t yield? It sure as shit wasn’t beat it raw and make it scream.

Hades kicked his feet up on the table top inside the bedroom he used at the club listening to the noise from the next room. This spacious yet minimally decorated room was typically for privacy away from everyone else. He’d recently bought a reasonably sized house ten mile away from the MC estate for the days he had to be rid of their fucking absurd noise. He tolerated those men as a rat did its fur full of fleas. They had their uses, but he wouldn’t ever call one of them friend.

It occurred to him he hadn’t enjoyed himself quite so much in a long time as he had in these past weeks. Relaxed, loose in his skin, he took a long breath deep into his lungs, the leather of his cut pulling across his shoulder blades as he listened with his head held back to the wailing and the dark cackle that followed.

His pleasure and satisfaction were parallel to the girl’s discomfort and toying with her was paramount to the level of his daily gratification. She was a fighter. Most women, especially those trafficked in from across the border broke like fragile paper, unable to handle what was happening to them, almost immediately the begging to live would begin, they’d do anything to gain their freedom. It was pitiful, and none sparked an interest inside his chest, not like this girl did.

Oh, she fought every day. About everything. From morning to night, no matter what bruises she wore, or how sore she was inside.

She hated Hades and didn’t mind telling him in spiteful, shrieking yelling.

He grinned and locked hands behind his blonde head.

She’d be sent back to him soon enough and he wondered was today the day he’d break her?

Her will turned him on.

Stirred the organ in his chest and between his legs.

His cock would have to wait, she’d already been used well today by several of his men.

He was a generous deviant when it came to her lessons and the more she gave him lip the more he would share her around, and his men were not nice, they didn’t go easy, she came back to him filthy and bruised, crying and withdrawn. If only she’d learn by giving him her utter obedience in all he asked of her she would only belong to him, would only be tortured by his hands, his mouth, his hard body, but as he’d found, his sweet love was difficult to break, she fought back as often as she yielded, and so, his lessons continued.

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