Page 69 of Endgame
Through my tears, I watch Everett use the long white strip he tore off my dress. He stretches it, his cruel eyes assessing the length.
“It’ll do,” he says to himself. Then he grabs my hands, binding my wrists together.
He’s careful about it. Ties me up without cutting the blood supply.
Shame for getting wetter and needier rushes over me as my tears dry. A part of me believes that Everett’s soft handling will last. That deep down, he’s kind. Sweet.
Ishouldbe ashamed. Because he isn’t.
He grabs the remote once he’s done.
Pushes the button.
A tiny jolt of electricity starts in my throat. My mouth clamps shut.
“A reminder—” His hand cracks on my ass, and I whimper.
I try to press my body forward, away, but there’s no place to hide. Nowhere to run.
Do I even want to be anywhere else? I should.
“—Of what happens when you don’t listen to me.”
“Why are you doing this?” I grit out.
“I already told you.”
“You couldn’t appreciate your freedom, little thief.” At some point, my knees must’ve closed. He kicks them apart again, his hands rough and hot. “That’s how we got here. That’s why I own you now.”
“Freedom?” Such a fierce blow, his misconception of me. The fact that no one’s bothered or cared enough to see I’m a prisoner hurts as if it’s the first time I’ve felt it. “What freedom?”
My scream gives Everett pause. The lines on his forehead deepen with a look of confusion.
His hesitation is momentary before he strikes me with his words. “You’re just like them. A liar.” The gaze he pins me with freezes my blood. “Stay. Take it. Or you wouldn’t like the consequences.
Stupidly, I snarl at him. “Your threats are as empty as your soul.”
“Are they really?” My thong is torn from my body. Cool air brushes my wet, heated parts.
His eyes are dark. I try to give him a stare that saysI hate you.
I don’t really hate him. I wish I could.
Crack.A slap to my pussy this time.
“I hate you!”
Crack. Crack. Crack.
“You bastard.”
Despite the nauseating pain, pleasure slices through me.
He’s touching me in places no one ever has. He’s owning me, his wedding band cold against my pussy as he keeps smacking it.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
That’s my ass he’s spanking now. He’s going at it over and over again.
