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“You will not talk back, whether in front of me or anyone else in the brotherhood.”Slap.“You’ll keep your thoughts to yourself.”Slap.“You will not go against me in public again.”
Slap!
I’m sobbing by the end of his words, my voice hoarse, my heart hammering so loud, I’m scared it’ll spill on the mattress and leave me vacant once and for all.
“Is that clear, Lia?”
“Yes…yes…” I’m telling him what he wants to hear so he’ll end the torture. It’s not only about the welts. It’s about the frightening friction in my core that heightens with each of his merciless lashes.
“Good.”
I release a breath when his large palm touches my assaulted skin and he slowly kneads my ass. That usually means he’s done torturing me—or close to it.
His hand slowly parts my thighs as far as they can go with the cast, and I can’t help the moan that escapes as his fingers brush against my soaked folds.
“I see you’ve missed your punishments, Lia.”
I burrow my face into the pillow to muffle my voice. I don’t want him to hear me so wanton like this, and most of all, I don’t want him to know he has this hold on me.
“Deny it all you like, but your body belongs to me.” He cups me harshly. “This cunt belongs to me.” He slaps my burning skin and I whimper. “This ass also belongs to me. But if there’s still any doubt in your mind, by all means, say it, and I’ll punish it out of you.”
My breathing is chopped and fractured, and it’s not only because of the pain. It’s his words. Damn them and damn me for letting them have this effect on me.
“Shouldn’t I continue punishing you, Lenochka?”
“No…”
“Then do you belong to me?”
I purse my lips.
He raises his hand and brings it down on my ass. I shriek as my burning skin explodes with pain.
“Do you fucking belong to me?”
“No…never…”
“Lia…don’t make me break you.”
“You’ll break me more if I say those words,” I sob, all of my pain receptors pulsing at the same time.
He slaps me again and I wail, my body wiggling sideways, but he holds me down by the hair. “Say you’re mine.”
“No.”
Slap.“Say. It.”
My tears soak the pillow and I feel like I might pass out. Like his next strikes will knock me out cold. But they don’t. All they manage to do is torture my ass and core. He’s using his hand now, but my skin is so tender and stimulated that even the merest hit reverberates through my whole body.
“Stop it…Adrian…please…”
“Not until you say you’re mine.” His voice is harsh, non-negotiable.
“I can’t…” I sob.
“Yes, you can.”
“No! You’ve taken so much from me already. I will not hand you my last pieces. So if you want to whip me to death, do it. I will not say those words, even with my last breath.”
