Chapter 21: Chapter twenty

The pills rattled softly in his palm, small white capsules that glowed under the dim light of the room. She turned her head weakly away when he brought them close to her mouth, her lips trembling in protest. Her wrists were still bound in cold metal, the chains pulling tight with every small movement she made.

“I don’t want it,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying, from gasping, from screaming earlier.

He smiled darkly, no patience in his eyes. “You’ll take it.”

Her head shook once again, stubborn, but his hand was already gripping her jaw. His grip was strong and unyielding as his fingers squeezed her cheeks until her mouth parted, a soft cry spilling out. He shoved the pills past her lips, ignoring the muffled sounds of refusal, then caught the water in the glass cup from the table. With his other hand, he lifted her head and pressed the rim to her mouth.

“Swallow it,” he ordered, tilting her chin higher until the water rushed in. She coughed, choked, the liquid spilling down her throat, and instinct made her swallow. He watched her throat bob as the pills slid down.

When he let go, she was panting, her chest rising and falling quickly. The chains clinked as she shifted weakly on the bed, trying to twist away from him.

But as his eyes roamed over her, something inside him stirred again. The sight of her body bound and moving on the bed, her nipples peaked and sensitive from his earlier torment, made heat flood his veins. The brush of his knuckles against her chest drew a sharp sound from her lips, and he felt his cock harden immediately again.

“You’re not done,” he murmured.

Her eyes widened. “Please… I can’t…”

“You can. And you will.” His voice was dark velvet, smooth but edged with steel. He trailed his fingers over her chest, then down her stomach. Her skin flinched under his touch, too tender, too raw from before. He smirked as he leaned lower, his mouth hovering just above her navel.

Slowly and deliberately, he kissed his way down, ignoring her weak attempt to pull against the chains. When his lips met the inside of her thighs, she let out a soft, broken moan.

“Still very sweet,” he said against her skin. His tongue darted out, tasting her, and he groaned low. “Sweeter than before.”

His mouth claimed her pussy without hesitation. He licked around her sensitive clit, slowly, teasing at first, then harder, sucking her clit until her body trembled uncontrollably. Her cries were high and sharp, desperate, the sound of someone caught between pain and unbearable pleasure. He slid two fingers inside her, testing her slickness, and smiled when her body clenched tightly around him.

“Good,” he growled. “Wet for me again. Just the way I like it.”

When she was trembling, begging wordlessly through gasps and broken whimpers, he finally pulled back. His cock was already very hard, throbbing and pulsing with need, and he gripped it as he climbed over her. Aligning his cock to her entrance, he pushed in slowly, watching himself disappear inside her.

She cried out, clutching around him immediately, her body so sore and sensitive that every inch stretched her painfully.

“Shhhh,” he whispered, brushing a kiss against her temple. “I promise to be gentle this time.”

He eased in, inch by inch, until he was fully buried inside her. Her walls gripped him tightly, almost painfully tight, and he groaned deep in his chest. He stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust, and letting himself feel, then began to move — slow, deep thrusts that made her gasp every time.

Her body was fire beneath him, her nails scraping against the sheets as she tried to endure the burn of his thickness. He held her hips firmly, guiding her against him, controlling every motion.

“You’re sore and swollen,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. “I can feel it. Every pulse. Every squeeze.”

She whimpered, nodding weakly, unable to speak.

But as he kept moving, her cries shifted. From pain, to something softer. Her hips began to tilt toward him unconsciously, her body aligning with the thrust of his hip. The chains rattled with every thrust as she tried to pull him deeper.

“That’s it baby,” he growled, his pace still slow and deliberate. “Take me. Fuck me. You own my dick. Only you.”

She clenched tighter around him, her body trembling from his dirty words. The room filled with the sounds of their bodies, wet, raw, relentless. He lost himself in the rhythm, in the way she pulsed around him, in the way her breath hitched every time he pushed deeper.

For long minutes, he kept giving it to her and she kept taking everything and when her climax tore through her, she screamed, her entire body arching against the chains, desperate to hold something, to touch something. The force of it gripped him like a fist, pulling him over the edge. With a harsh groan, he spilled inside her, thrusting hard as he emptied himself into her.

When it was over, she collapsed weakly against the bed, her chest heaving. Her arms fell limp in the restraints, her eyes half-closed.

He watched her for a long moment, then reached for the chains. With a metallic click, they released. She didn’t even move. She was too weak to lift her arms.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, brushing damp hair from her face. She didn’t answer, just let her head roll to the side, her eyes fluttering shut.

He slipped his arms beneath her, lifting her from the bed as though she weighed nothing. Her body hung against him, limp, but he held her firmly, possessively. Carrying her into the bathroom, he turned the tap and began to fill the tub with steaming water.

While the water poured, he sat on the edge, cradling her in his lap. He kissed her thoroughly, his tongue sliding against hers, his mouth demanding even though she was too weak to respond. She moaned softly, the sound muffled in his mouth.

Her body trembled against his as the steam filled the room. When the tub was ready, he lowered her gently into the water, climbing in after her. He pulled her back flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist. His hands roamed lazily over her wet skin, caressing, kneading, exploring.

She sighed, the hot water easing her sore muscles, her head falling back against his shoulder. He kissed her neck, her ear, her cheek, never stopping, never letting her forget his presence.

“You’ll remember this night,” he whispered against her skin.

When he was done washing her, he lifted her again, wrapping her in a towel. Back in the bedroom, he laid her carefully on the bed, then slid in beside her. His arms pulled her close, caging her against his chest. He pressed soft kisses along her face, her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her lips.

She was already half-asleep, her body too exhausted to resist or to respond, her breath evening out against his chest. His hand stroked her hair slowly as her eyes closed fully.

Darkness took her, and still he held her, the weight of possession heavy and unyielding.