Page 108 of Cruel Deception
“When I tug it, you’ll crawl.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
“And when I yank it, you’ll remember that you belong to me.”
He stepped back, admiring his work like a sculptor studying a masterpiece.
“Good girl,” he said softly. But there was no praise in it. Just dominance. Iron. Fury dressed in velvet.
“Now crawl to the bed.”
I didn’t move.
“I said, crawl.”
I dropped to my hands and knees, every movement slow, humiliating. The chain tugged against my throat with each shuffle, heavy and humiliating, as I lower myself to my knees, my scars exposed, my heart pounding, the hardwood biting my palms, his boots echoing behind me, a predator stalking his prey.
The metal cuffs on my ankles clanked loudly against the marble floor. The punishment wasn’t just physical—it was spiritual. I felt my soul shriveling under his gaze.
He doesn’t touch me, doesn’t strike me—his punishment is this, the degradation, the power he wields without laying a hand.
My body burns with shame, but a twisted part of me feels the pull of his dominance, the dark allure of his control.
In the bedroom, its silk sheets a stark contrast to my chains, he stops me with a gesture. “Stop right here,” he says, his voice low, commanding, his eyes locked on mine. I obey, my knees aching, my breath ragged.
I couldn’t breathe.
“You’ll sleep at my feet. Eat when I say. Walk only when I pull your leash. Until your shame becomes obedience. Until your defiance becomes devotion.”
His eyes burned into mine.
“Say it.”
I didn’t understand. “Say what?”
“Say you belong to me.”
I looked away.
The collar tightened.
“I said—say it.”
“I belong to you,” I whispered, broken.
“Louder.”
“I belong to you,” I cried out, voice cracking.
He leaned forward again, his hand slipping beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Damn right you do.”
Chapter 17
CHARLOTTE
He circles me, slow, deliberate, his gaze a physical weight. “You’ll stay like this,” he says, his voice a dark promise, “chained, kneeling, until I decide you’ve learned your place. You’ll beg for my mercy, Charlotte, and maybe—maybe—I’ll let you taste it.”
