Page 30 of Sinful Obsession
My skin stung and burned. I could feel the heat radiating from the welt.
Then I heard the belt.
No. No. No.
“Please don’t,” I pleaded, panic spilling out of me in broken sobs. “Please, I’m sorry—I’m sorry—”
I trashed beneath his grip, struggling with more than just him—struggling against the blackouts, the memories flashing like lightning in a broken sky.
The past bled into the present, and I couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, he released me.
Just like that—he stepped back.
I staggered, breathless, turning around in disbelief. My pink trousers hung limply around my ankles, my torn panties barely clinging to me. Only my top remained untouched—mocking in its modesty.
I looked like a slave from a forgotten century, stripped of dignity, exposed to his mercy.
He didn’t blink.
“Go inside and wear the exact clothes I told you to wear.” he said, his voice a low growl. “You have thirty seconds.”
This time, I didn’t dare argue.
I yanked up the trousers, ignoring the sting, and stumbled inside like a scolded dog.
Bold of me to think I could defy a demon like him, I thought, shame burning hotter than my skin.
I rushed to the bedroom, stripping off the pink dress and pulling on the black dress he’d chosen, its sleek fabric clinging to my frame like a second skin.
The thought of him taking me by force still clung to my skin like soot. I hated how scared I was of it.
I hated more that some part of me wondered what it would’ve meant—if it would’ve answered something.
I’m sick. I have to be.
I stepped back outside, knees still weak. He stood waiting, sunglasses hiding his expression.
Then—
“Take off your panties.”
My heart stopped.
“But... I already changed—”
“I said. Now.”
I didn’t move at first. But the warning in his voice was enough to remind me what he was capable of.
With unsteady fingers, I unfastened my black trousers, slid them down my hips, and stepped out of them.
The air against my skin felt cold, invasive.
Then, slower, almost reluctant to let the fabric go, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my black panties and drew them down my legs. I held them out.
He took them without a word, folding them once before tucking them into his pocket like a trophy he had every right to claim.
