Chapter 18 Punishment II
Constantine's POV
'Yes, sir.' I stutter, the lie I'm telling feeling so unbelievable in my ears. I know I will never ever be ready for him…and the darkness that licws inside of him.
He releases me and walks to a closet I hadn't noticed before. When he opens it, I see things that make my stomach twist. Leather restraints. Ropes. Things I don't even have names for. He pulls out several items and returns to me.
'Hands behind your back.'
I do as I'm told, and he binds my wrists together with soft leather cuffs. They are bound very tight enough to hurt and securely, and i hiss at the pain, because even if they are soft, he still had a way of making it hurt.
'On the bed. Face down.'
I climb onto the mattress awkwardly, my bound hands making it difficult. When I'm positioned how he wants, he grabs my hips and yanks me to the edge of the bed so my feet are still on the floor, my ass in the air, completely exposed and vulnerable.
'Count,' he says. 'If you lose count, we start over. Understood?'
'Yes, sir.'
The first strike comes without warning. His palm connecting with my ass with enough force to make me cry out. The sound echoes in the silent room.
'One!' I gasp.
'Louder.'
'One!'
The second strike lands on the other cheek, equally hard.
'Two!'
He doesn't hold back. Each slap is sharp and hard, definitely to hurt just enough. My skin burns, the sting spreading through my body in waves. Tears stream down my face.
'Three! Four! Five!'
'Who do you belong to?' His voice is calm, controlled, while I'm falling apart.
'You!' I sob. 'I belong to you!'
'Say my name.'
'Wyatt! I belong to Wyatt Gorshkovsky!'
'That's right.' Another strike, harder than the others. 'And who gets to touch you?'
'Only you!' The words tear out of my throat. 'Only you, sir!'
He continues until we reach twenty, and by then I'm a sobbing mess, my ass burning, my body trembling uncontrollably. When he finally stops, I think it's over.
I'm so fucking wrong.
His fingers slide between my thighs, finding the wetness there, and shame crashes over me in waves. My body has betrayed me again, responding to the pain, to his dominance, in ways my mind can't understand or accept.
'Look at this,' he murmurs, his fingers circling my clit with maddening precision. 'Your mouth says you hate me, but your body tells a different story, doesn't it?'
'Please,' I whimper, though I don't know what I'm begging for. For him to stop? For him to continue? I don't even know anymore.
'Please what?' He slides two fingers inside me, and I cry out, my body clenching around the intrusion. 'Please fuck you? Please make you come? Use your words, Constantine.'
'I don't know,' I sob. 'I don't know!'
'Yes, you do.' His thumb finds my clit while his fingers work inside me, building pressure that makes my legs shake. 'Your body knows exactly what it wants. It wants to be owned. Used. Claimed by who it belongs to. Doesn't it?'
'Yes!' The admission is ripped from somewhere deep inside me. 'Yes!'
'Good girl.' The praise sends another shock of heat through me, and I hate it, hate myself for responding to it. 'Now come for me. Show me how much you love being mine.'
He increases the pressure, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes. The orgasm builds against my will, my body climbing toward release even as my mind screams in protest.
'That's it,' he encourages, his voice dark and satisfied. 'Let go. Give yourself to me completely.'
I shatter. The orgasm rips through me with devastating force, making me scream into the mattress, my body convulsing around his fingers. It goes on and on, wave after wave of unwanted pleasure that leaves me gasping and broken.
When it finally subsides, he withdraws his fingers and I hear him unbuckling his belt. The sound makes fresh tears spring to my eyes because I know what's coming.
He positions himself behind me, the head of his hard, huge cock pressing against my entrance. He's not gentle. He slams into me in one brutal thrust, and I cry out, my body struggling to accommodate him.
'This is what you're for,' he growls, his hands gripping my bound wrists, using them as leverage to pull me back onto him with each thrust. 'This is your purpose. To be fucked. To be used. To be fucking mine!'
The pace is punishing, designed to hurt and humiliate. Each thrust drives me forward on the bed, and all I can do is take it, my bound hands useless, my body completely at his mercy as I sob.
'Say it,' he demands. 'Tell me what you are.'
'Yours,' I gasp. 'I'm yours!'
'More specific.' His hand wraps around my throat from behind, squeezing. 'What are you?'
The word sticks in my throat, shame and arousal mixing into something toxic.
'Say it or I stop right now and leave you like this. Desperate. Needy. Unsatisfied. And you will also pay for not satisfying me.' He growls.
'I'm your whore!' The words explode out of me. 'I'm your fucking whore!'
'Yes, you are.' His grip on my throat tightens. 'My whore. My toy. My property. And the next time some pathetic ex-boyfriend tries to touch you, you're going to remember this moment. You're going to remember who owns you. Who owns this body. Who owns every fucking orgasm you'll ever have.'
He's right. God help me, he's right. My body is already climbing toward another release, responding to the degradation, the pain, the complete loss of control.
'Please,' I whimper. 'Please, I need—'
'I know what you need.' His free hand reaches around to rub my clit in harsh circles. 'You need to be reminded that you're mine. That no one else will ever touch you like this. Say it.'
'No one else!' I'm sobbing now, pleasure and shame indistinguishable. 'Only you! Only you can touch me! Only you can make me feel like this!'
'That's my good little whore.' The words should destroy me, but instead they push me over the edge. I come again, harder than before, my body clenching around him so tight it's almost painful.
He follows moments later, his grip on my throat and wrists tightening as he buries himself deep, filling me, marking me as his.
When he finally pulls out, I collapse onto the bed, bound and broken and utterly destroyed. He leaves me there while he goes to the bathroom. I hear water running. And I feel darkness take over me as I melt into the mattress.