Page 109 of Cruel Deception
He leans down, his face close, his breath warm against my ear. “But first,” he murmurs, his voice a sensual threat, “you’ll please me. Show me you’re mine.”
His hand grazes my shoulder, not a strike but a claim, sending a shiver through me, my body betraying me with heat despite my fear.
“Undo my belt,” he orders, standing straight, his eyes burning.
I fumble, my heart racing, torn between terror and the dark pull of his command. He doesn’t hit me, doesn’t bruise me like Luca would, but his words, his control, are a punishment that cuts deeper, a sensual torment that leaves me trembling. “Please, Master,” I whisper, my voice breaking, “I’m sorry.”
“You will be,” he says, his voice a low growl, his hand tangling in my hair, not pulling, but holding, possessive. “You’ll learn, slave, what it means to betray me. And you’ll never forget.”
My tears fall, mixing with the heat pooling in my core, my body a traitor to my fear.
The chains bind me, his words break me, and yet, his restraint—no fists, no blows—keeps me tethered to the hope that he’s not Luca, not the monster I feared.
But the accusation about my mother, chaining his, lingers, a puzzle I can’t solve, a truth that might destroy us both.
“You wanted to play with fire, Now you’ll burn for it—willingly.”
My breath catches, my body trembling, not just from fear but from the dark pull of his dominance, a twisted allure that’s been growing since our first night.
“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered.
He tilted his head. “Didn’t mean to?” His eyes narrowed, voice dipping colder. “That’s your excuse for looking me in the eye... and pulling the trigger?”
I flinched. The floor felt colder now. My knees hurt where I knelt in chains, but I didn’t move.
“I’m sorry, Master,” I whisper, my voice shaking, the title bitter on my tongue but necessary to appease him.
“I’ll do what you want.”
His lips curl, a predator’s smile, sensual yet cruel. “Good.” He murmurs, stepping closer, his hand tangling in my hair, firm but not painful, a possessive claim that sends a shiver through me.
“You’ll please me, and you’ll want it. Now undo my belt.”
He didn’t repeat himself.
I hesitated, shame rising up like a chokehold. “Cassian—”
He turned sharply. “I said undo. My. Belt.”
My hands, still trembling, reach for his belt, the leather warm from his body, the chains dragging as I fumble with the buckle.
My heart races, torn between shame and the heat pooling in my core, my body betraying me as it did when he first touched me.
I slide the belt free, my fingers brushing his skin, and he steps back, his eyes burning.
He stared at my chest. At what was left of it. My body. My scars.
Then he laughed.
Not a loud laugh. A quiet, bitter one. Like it confirmed something ugly for him.
He moved in front of me, arms folded. “Flat. Masculine. Cut open like meat. And you still thought you could seduce me?”
A sob slipped from my throat. “Stop.”
“Oh no, sweetheart. You’re the one who shattered whatever grace I had left for you. Now you’ll serve me as you are. No hiding. No sympathy.”
The room is dim, the curtains drawn, the only light a faint glow from the city outside. “Please me,” he says, his voice low, sensual, a Dom asserting absolute control. “Show me you’re mine, Charlotte.”
