Chapter 10

Savina~

My name being called out snapped me out of my trance, and as I recognized my surroundings again, I saw the pieces of skinless chicken still waiting for me to season them. I honestly had no idea how long I'd been lost in my thoughts, but a scheduled beating had a way of doing that, I supposed. It wasn't often that I knew what Ashton had in store for me, only a simple guess, but he'd been so pissed the other night, and being the monster that he was, he wouldn't be over it until he'd made his point.

I turned in time to see him walk into the kitchen, all his bags probably sitting in the foyer, waiting until he got around to making them a priority. If I could name one good quality about Ashton, it was that he cleaned up after himself. While I was expected to keep the house up to par, he had no problem cleaning up his own messes and taking responsibility for himself. He felt like a clean home spoke of class, so he always did his best to keep things well-kept and tidy.

"I've got something for you," he said as he rounded the kitchen island.

Going into Stepford-mode, I said, "Well, I have something for you, too." I gestured towards the chicken that I'd been preparing. "Chicken Rosemary and baby potatoes."

Ashton's smile was genuine, and I wanted to scream. Though I hated this man with every fiber of my being, I hated him most when he was behaving kindly. There was nothing kind about him, and monsters really shouldn't be able to disguise that part of themselves.

"Perfect," he said. "It'll go great with what I have planned tonight."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up because I honestly had no idea if he was setting me up or not. "Plans?"

Ashton nodded as he reached for my hand. "I made a stop on my way home."

My chest tightened painfully as I watched Ashton slip the engagement ring on my finger, the size perfect this time. My vision blurred, and while Ashton could believe that it was a simple case of my emotions taking over, it wasn't. Oh, my emotions were taking over, but not the ones that he thought. The ring was a stunning simplicity of class, but it felt like a shackle around my ankle, and if I didn't know better, I'd swear that the walls were closing in on me.

"Now we can officially make the announcement," he said, his fingers caressing my hand. "Every wedding planner in the state will be vying to plan our wedding."

Like all those women that were no longer safe knowing their own minds, I said, "I…I'm not…"

"What?" he asked with a little bit of bite in his voice.

I stared up into his face, not bothering to hide my tears. "I don't…I don't want to take it off, but…" I glanced back at the chicken filets. "But…I also don't want to get it all dirty."

"Awe, sweetheart," he said, his voice back to normal. "I totally understand."

I looked back up at him, the lies and fake everything still going strong. "I'd feel silly wearing gloves to prepare dinner."

Ashton placed his hands on my hips before yanking me forward. "How about we make a deal?"

"Yeah, okay…what?"

"We'll make a standing appointment with the jeweler to have it cleaned once a week," he suggested, though Ashton never really ‘suggested' anything. "That way it'll still sparkle every weekend."

"That sounds perfect," I lied. "Maybe they can work with me and let me drop it off during my lunch on…I don't know, Tuesdays."

Ashton's back straightened. "You're going to be an Oliver," he said haughtily. "They'll do well to accommodate whatever you need, Savina."

Feeling the reminder like a whip to my back, I gestured back towards the uncooked chicken. "Well, I better get back to making dinner. It should be done by the time that you're all finished unpacking and washing up."

He pulled me closer, saying, "I have a better idea."

My heart started beating erratically inside my chest because I recognized that tone. Truth be told, I'd rather Ashton beat me than what he was about to do next. The beatings were standard, which only someone else in my position could appreciate. It wasn't often that Ashton deviated from his physical assaults, and whenever he did do something new, it was because we weren't in the familiar comfort of our home. Though no one would ever suspect it, there'd been countless times when Ashton had put his hands on me in public, feigning a stomach bug or migraine to quickly get me home. The man had no shame, and absolutely no conscience.

So, despite the horror of it all, the beatings were predictable, and so I'd learn how to choreograph the abuse for minimal damage, and my mind was always prepared for what was to come. However, Ashton's lovemaking was another animal altogether. That was the one thing that was incredibly unpredictable, and it was also a different kind of terror.

There were times when Ashton was tender, sweet, and didn't stop until I was undoubtedly pleasured. Then there were times when he'd just bend me over the nearest surface to get off after a long day, my pleasure irrelevant. Of course, there were the times after the beatings when he gave new meaning to the word rape, but even those times were expected, and I was usually in too much pain to register any additional new agony, even as crazy as that sounded.

Surprisingly, it was when Ashton was in a lust-craze that it was the worst. While I had enjoyed a heavy hand during my years with Aurelio, Ashton's definition of rough sex was something else entirely. His degradation was the hateful kind, not the role-playing kind that was consensual between two adults. He didn't spit in my mouth before taking my lips in a breath-stealing kiss. No. Ashton liked to spit on my face, then rub it in before slapping me hard enough to split my lip. He didn't pull my hair while grunting hot words in my ear. No. He pulled my hair until strands fell out, then used the grip to suffocate me into the pillows. He didn't wrap his hand around my throat to keep me in place as he made me take him. No. He choked me until the blood vessels in my eyes nearly popped, only letting me breathe when he felt like I deserved it. He also didn't call me names to enhance the experience and help fulfill my fantasies. No. He called me names because that's what he really thought of me. In public, I was a tool to help his political career. In private, I was three holes that he had the right to use as he saw fit. The only positive thing that I could say about it all was that he had only shared me once before he had realized that he was too jealous a person to keep doing such a thing. Of course, he'd beaten me black and blue for it; blaming me for his miscalculation, but that'd been the last time that he had slutted me out, and thank God.

"Ashton, the chicken-"

"I don't care about the damn chicken, Savina," he said as his hands went for the hem of my skirt. I hadn't bothered changing when I'd gotten home from work, and I should have. "I haven't seen you in two days, sweetheart."

I did my best to steady my breathing and keep the tears at bay. While I wanted to believe that he was going to make love to me, I knew better. If Ashton was faithful-which I doubted-then two days without sex was two days too long for a man with his sexual appetites. Luckily, we still used condoms, so if he was cheating on me, I could rest a little easier knowing that he was using protection with me, even if he wasn't using it with anyone else.

My hands grabbed onto his shoulders as he lifted me, placing me on the island. With his hand on my chest, he pushed me onto my back, then stepped in between my legs. I stared at the ceiling as I felt his hands spread my thighs open, and while most women would appreciate the consideration, I loathed everything that Ashton did to me, even the simplest smile.

"I don't know how long I'll be able to control myself," he said as he ripped my panties to the side, something that he loved doing. The tearing sound did something for him that I didn't understand, but I knew enough to know that I was going to be a disgusting mess on the floor by the time that Ashton was done with me. As soon as he had spread my legs, the tone in his voice had changed, and I knew my enemy well.

My fingers curled around the edge of the granite as I heard Ashton removing his clothing, my body laying splayed out before him, the obscenity of my panties hanging off to the side turning him on. I could hear his breathing picking up, and that was a sure sign of what was to come.

Like the many times before this one, I closed my eyes, doing my best to pretend that it was Aurelio touching me, kissing me, taking me. Though I had absolutely no right to that small escape, I couldn't help myself. I didn't want it to be Ashton's face in between my thighs right now. I didn't want it to be Ashton inside me later. Like a Greek tragedy, it was unfair that Ashton was also well-equipped. With the way that he behaved, you'd think that he was overcompensating for having a small dick, but that wasn't the case. Though not large, he was adequate, so there was no escaping the feel of him inside me.

As soon as I felt the swipe of Ashton's tongue, my eyes tightened, praying for numbness. I knew that my body was going to betray me, and no matter how many counselors said that it was normal, it didn't feel normal. It felt worse than when he abused and degraded me. I felt less than human when Ashton forced me to cum for him, and that was a stain that was harder to scrub off than all the others.

I almost laughed, knowing that the stains were never going to come out.