I stood frozen. The sharp shard of porcelain trembling in my hand turning my knuckles white as I pressed it to his throat. My heart pounded wildly in my chest as my breaths came in shallow gasps, that's when the weight of what I had just done started sinking in.
He didn't flinch. He didn't move. Instead, his cold pale merciless eyes remained locked on mine, unblinking, as if daring me to follow through. His lips twisted into a dark, almost amused smirk.
"You're brave, ptichka," he tilted his head, his eyes turning darker than I've ever seen. "But you don't have the guts."
I pressed harder, feeling the shard dig into his skin. A tiny bead of blood welled up against the pale surface of his neck, but still, he didn't react. He was taunting me, daring me to push further. To break whatever fragile boundary still existed between us.
"I hate you," I whispered again, my voice hoarse, raw and I wish I could slice his throat open. "You don't deserve to live."
His eyes darkened further and the playful smirk faded as something far more dangerous flickered behind his gaze. "Then do it." His words were a challenge more like a command. "End it. End me, little bird. If you think you can."
My hands shook. God, I wanted to. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to push that shard deeper, to feel the satisfaction of his blood spilling over my hands. But my body refused to obey. My anger was at war with the terror that gripped me, the reality that I was not a killer. Not like him.
"See? You can't even do that," he spat, his voice dripping with disgust as he reached up and slowly wrapped his fingers around my wrist. His grip was iron, his hand cold, sending a wave of icy fear through me. "Pathetic."
With one swift motion, he twisted my arm behind my back, wrenching the shard from my grip. The sharp pain in my shoulder made me cry out, but I swallowed the sound, biting down on my lip until I tasted blood. He spun me around, slamming me against the wall, his body pressing against mine, trapping me in place. His breath was hot against my neck, his lips grazing the shell of my ear as I panted and struggled.
"You think you can hurt me?" he growled. "You think you can defy me?"
I gasped, trying to twist out of his hold, but it was useless. His body was a wall of muscle, rigid and immovable. He had me completely at his mercy-again. The heat of his breath on my skin sent a shiver down my spine, but it was the coldness in his eyes that terrified me.
"You're mine, and I'll repeat it thousand fucking times," he pressed his body against mine. "Every part of you belongs to me, ptichka. Your body. Your mind. Your soul. And there's nothing you can do to change that."
I shook my head, tears blurring my vision as I tried to fight the sobs rising in my throat. "You don't own me," I managed to choke out, though my voice was weak, barely a whisper.
He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing the side of my neck, sending unwanted chills through me. "I already do."
Before I could react, he slammed me harder against the wall, his hands roughly gripping my hips as his mouth descended on mine. It wasn't a kiss. It was punishment-savage, violent, claiming. I fought against him, pushing at his chest, but he only pressed harder, his body overpowering mine as he swallowed my protests with his lips, his teeth grazing my bottom lip until I tasted blood.
I gasped into his mouth, my fists weakly pounding against his chest, but he didn't care. He devoured me, his hands traveling possessively over my body as if he was reminding me who I belonged to. As if last night was not enough.
"You hate me?" he growled against my lips, his voice rough, his grip bruising. "Good. Hate me. Hate me all you want. It won't change anything. I'll still be the one who owns you."
He ripped my sweater off, the fabric tearing as his hands roamed over my bare skin, his touch both cruel and intoxicating. I hated it-hated how my body responded to him despite the pain, despite the fear. I hated how his control over me was absolute.
"I hate you," I breathed again, tears sliding down my cheeks as he pressed me against the wall, his hands everywhere at once, his lips trailing rough kisses down my neck. But even as I said the words, I knew they weren't enough. Nothing I said or did could stop him.
"Show me," he snarled, his hand wrapping around my throat, squeezing just enough to make it hard to breathe. "Show me how much you hate me."
I closed my eyes, biting back a sob as he continued his assault on my body, tearing at the remnants of my dignity. His dominance was suffocating, his presence was overwhelming, and yet, buried deep within the anger and fear was something I couldn't ignore-some twisted, dark need that terrified me more than anything.
I hated how he was making my body mould to his desire.
I wanted him to stop. But a part of me, a broken, shattered part, was already surrendering to his touch.
He finally pulled away, leaving me breathless and trembling, my back still pressed against the cold wall. His chest rose and fell heavily, his eyes dark and unreadable as he looked down at me, his lips curled into a cruel smile.
"You'll never leave me, get that inside that thick skull of yours," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Because you need me as much as I need you."
I shook my head weakly, tears streaming down my face. "No…I don't…"
He stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he watched me, his jaw clenched. For a moment, I thought he might strike me, might finally cross the line he had danced on for so long. But instead, he turned away, heading for the door.
I watched in disbelief as he grabbed his coat, his back to me as he spoke.
"You think you're free?" he said, his voice colder than I had ever heard. "You're not. You'll never be free of me. You sealed your fate the moment you took my dick in your cunt. The moment you agreed to sleep with me. And I'll make sure you know it too."
With that, he walked out, slamming the door behind him, leaving me standing there-broken, shaking, and utterly destroyed.