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I was soglad to be back in my room at last. The space enclosed by four walls had become a sanctuary—the only place where I was not surrounded with guards or forced to talk to Sebastian. I didn’t care if he watched the cameras. At least, I wasn’t breathing the same air as him. Also, it helped to know he took breaks from surveillance because after the night I just had, I didn’t think he would allow me to feed my addiction for blades if he knew that was what I did before I slept.
I slipped off the heels and sat on the bed, not daring to lie on it lest the mattress rubbed on my aching backside. He wasn’t kidding when he said he would punish me. Surprisingly, his spanks were more painful than I expected. A dull pain had pooled at surface of my skin and I was certain I would have bruises the next day.
He made me count when he spanked me.
In his eyes, I was not just worthless, I was also a child who needed to be disciplined, and I didn’t know which was worse. To not exist or be treated like someone I was not. But I’d brought it on myself, no matter how much I tried to argue otherwise. The dance … talking back to him and blaming him outright for everything. Expressing myself out loud, without a filter. Why did I think I could exchange words with the man who was not even afraid of death?
I could blame my parents for my imprisonment but not for the consequences of my own actions. It was my responsibility to stay alive and that could only be achieved by doing as I was asked, to perfection. I needed to be smarter, act smarter. Playing a victim wouldn’t serve me in any way. Not anymore.
But what was the point of enduring all these hardships when there was no expiration date for my situation? Pleasing my captor sounded foolish. I was better off dead. While I didn’t believe in any of the myths about the existence of an afterlife, at least in hell, I would be paying for the sins I actually committed.
Do it for Nicolas, a voice insisted.
A wave of renewed optimism washed over me, then replaced by shame. How could I think of giving up? I hadn’t been there for my brother when he’d needed me the most. The guilt of what had happened that night was permanently imprinted on my body to serve as a reminder that I had to do better. I’d failed him and the least I could do was preserve the last ounce of hope I still had. I would need it to get me through tougher times.
After what I’d witnessed at the club, I had a feeling this was just the tip of the iceberg. Sebastian probably enjoyed punishment and he’d made me taste a bit of his world.
I pulled down the zipper and carefully lowered my pants to my knees. Then, I smoothed my hand over my skin, admiring my art. The evidence of my self-loathing showed in the form of dark stripes on my contrastingly pale skin and made my upper thighs resemble the bark of a tree. But I didn’t care how ugly my body looked, I never had a reason to show my too much skin anyway. I avoided the swimming pools and whenever I was at the beach, I selected my shorts carefully.
The scars nearest to my crotch were the oldest, and fainter. Soon, they would disappear and give me more room to dump my feelings—fresh feelings of desperation, pain, disillusionment. Self-loathing. Of late, I had been cutting myself more frequently. In my defense, I was under a lot of stress and my sketchbooks and canvases happened to be in my former apartment, so I had no access to them. Usually, I used my paint brushes as an escape and only resorted to the blades when my emotions threatened to suffocate me.
Sebastian didn’t know and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t need him to judge me for what I was doing to myself. This was none of his business. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked me to take my dress off at the club. Also, he’d only seen me from behind and didn’t have a clue. I was very careful about keeping that part of me concealed.
I quickly pulled up my pants when I heard voices outside my room. Damn, something was going on and I really wanted to be on my own. Then, just in case there were stray tears on my cheeks, I dried my face with the sleeve of the blazer. For all I knew, crying was a sign of weakness. I didn’t want him to see me like that. I was a fucking adult and I didn’t want to be treated like a brat.
Expect me tonight—I replayed in my mind his last words to me before we left the club. He was coming to deliver what he promised. The spanking hurt, but it had also turned me on. The pain mixing with pleasure played on my darkest, most twisted desires and I didn’t understand why. This was so wrong, but I wanted him to give me more. He’d only teased me with his fingers and I never gave him permission to touch me.
I wondered what he meant by those words then. More punishment? Probably.
I touched my backside. It didn’t hurt too badly, but he only just spanked me. I kept telling myself I could take more strikes. At least I knew what to expect this time. But the inner pep talk did nothing to still my racing pulse. I remembered his fingers sinking inside me slowly and that exhilarating sensation around my core. I never felt like this when I played with myself.
Sebastian wasn’t particularly quiet. From what I could make from the snippets of the conversation going on in the corridor, he wanted Marco to get himcompanyfor later. I had stayed here long enough to know it was his not-so-subtle way of saying he was horny. I bit my bottom lip and toyed with my rising indignation as I wondered if he would demand that I watch him this time.
Moments later, the door opened and Sebastian slithered inside my space. He had changed into a pair of faded jeans and a fitted t-shirt. Fresh from the shower, his dark curls were messier and still moist. He lookedalmostlikeable. I swallowed hard, telling myself to stay calm. He wanted to punish me again and as much as wanted to deny it, so did I.
Fuck, no.Was I crazy? I didn’t want him to spank me again. What on earth was I even thinking?
When I saw a whip dangling from his right hand, my pulse started drumming in my ears. Fresh beads of sweat gathered around my forehead. Sebastian hadn’t just come to reprimand me, to deliver a few slaps. He was here to make sure I actually bled…
My breathing became labored and this had nothing to do with the inexplicable fact the sight of him actually turned me on. This time, I was honest-to-goodness scared.
I was so messed up, there was no hope for me…
He stopped a few paces away from the door, his eyes on me.
“Take them off.”
I stared back at him, confused. Then I saw his brows rise and realization finally began sinking in. He was referring to my clothes.Oh my God.I knotted my hands on my lap, self-conscious, horrified, and at the same time, overcome with protectiveness for my scars.No.They were sacred. Exposing them to him was not just about showing him an imperfection of mine. I didn’t want him to see me like this, so vulnerable and exposed.
He had no right to witness that part of me. Besides, it could give him more ideas on how to torment me. More power over me. The asshole could order me to wear revealing clothing as punishment if I annoyed him again.
“I don’t like repeating myself, teacup.” He smiled darkly and folded his hands across his chest. “I said take all your clothes off—everything—and I want to see your body. All of you, as a whole.”
Teacup.The nickname was given to me by my mother when I was young and she would call me by it when she was being affectionate. When she realized I hated it, she switched to calling me that when she was in her in her bitchy self, which for her, was literally all the time.
There was no point in delaying this. I got up and started pushing the buttons of my blazer out of their holes, my hands trembling because I had never been more nervous. Next, I unhooked my bra and threw it on the bed. Trapping the zipper between two fingers, I dared to glance at him. Sebastian was watching me and a bored expression creased his face.
I quickly averted my eyes, embarrassed and mad at myself. What was I expecting to catch in his eyes? Lust? I was flat chested and very, very thin. It was obvious from the looks of the women he fucked that his type was the exact opposite of me. Tall, busty, and toned.
