Chapter 10

Tara

Waking up every hour, in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar space, frustrated me all night long. I've slept in plenty of hotels and beds that weren't my own before, but being in the Monarch overnight was surreal. It's dead quiet in here and the blackout curtains combined with plush bedding keep me in darkness, as if I'm in a big, soft cocoon.

The only light shining is from a small light over by the chaise.

"You're awake."

I roll over and barely make out the silhouette of Mr. Hudson. He must press a button on a remote because the curtains slowly open, illuminating the gorgeous suite.

"Sleep well, Butterfly?"

"No." I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. I'm still naked, and when the sheet falls around my lap, Mr. Hudson gets a superb view of my tits. His jaw clenches and he drops his gaze to the foot of the bed. It hurts my feelings a little. When I shift to get up, he says, "Stay there."

"I have to use the restroom."

"You'll piss when I tell you to. Now stay there."

As he swaggers over to a closet, I roll out of bed and head for the bathroom.

He can be mad at me for disobeying, I don't give a fuck. To make it worse, I flip him the bird over my shoulder.

Look, I'm all for being uncomfortable and obeying orders like a good girl, but I haven't peed since before the ceremony last night and my damn bladder is killing me. Slamming the door shut, I lock it in case he tries to come in.

My heart beats against my ribs as I make my way across the marble tiled floor. It's cold in here. My nipples harden and I shiver even when sitting on the toilet. After taking care of business, I wash my hands and face and try to get most of last night's makeup off. Then I brush my teeth with one of the unopened toothbrushes I find in a drawer.

There are a lot of things stocked in here. Gels, lotions, shampoos, and bath salts in large glass canisters, and first aid stuff, too. After finger-combing my hair, I head back out with my head held high. I should take a shower while I'm at it, but something tells me if I don't hurry back out there, Sir will make me suffer for it.

After stepping one foot outside the bathroom, I know I've made a mistake.

Shit.

Sir stands just outside the door, his mouth cut in a straight, thin line. His glower almost makes me shrink back. "Get on your knees, Butterfly."

Arching my brow, I defy him. Fuck this man if he thinks he can wake me up and order me around like a goddamn dog. I know he's supposed to be my "master", but I refuse to submit to every little thing. And some part of me worries he's being this cold, controlling, and degrading because he's mad at me for my stunt last night at the ceremony.

He'll get over it.

"You've already racked up more punishments than your body can handle." His tone rings with warning bells. "You do not want to piss me off any more than you already have."

Maybe I do.

Can't be worse than I've already suffered in my miserable life.

In this club, I'm at his mercy. This is his kingdom, and he calls all the shots. I glance up at the camera quickly and he chuckles. "Think you're being watched, Miss Reed?" He leans in and the heat of his breath sends a shiver down my body when he whispers, "You are."

You. Are.

Those two little words make me go from defiant to compliant.

Had he threatened me with "no one's coming in here to save you," I would have laughed. The Monarch is likely the safest place in the city. Nothing gets past Ryker Hudson and his men. And I know he might be mad at me, but he'd never hurt me unless I wanted him to. Even then, he'd probably deny me.

Instead, he told me what I long to hear.

I'm being watched.

Just like I'd hoped Sir was watching last night when I got myself off, I love that he's watching me right now. And if he is the only one, and no one else is staring at us from a monitor right now, then I pray this is being recorded so he can rewatch it later.

Leaning into his face, I snap my teeth at him, and keep my satisfaction hidden when his eyes flash with surprise. Lowering onto my hands and knees, I wait until he steps out of my way, then I crawl like a cougar back over to the bed and climb into it.

There's a spreader bar waiting for me. And a ball gag.

Oh my god.

I force myself to remain impassive, even though my nerves are in a panic, and rest my feet on the spreader bar, playfully eyeing Sir up as he comes closer.

"Disobedience will cost you, Butterfly."

Fine by me.

I don't make a peep when he straps my ankles on the bar. But I do gasp when he cranks the goddamn thing until my hips ache. Fuuuuck. Lifting onto my elbows, I stare at how wide I'm spread.

Without saying a word, Sir climbs onto the bed with the ball gag in his hand. "Open your mouth."

Licking my lips, my mouth dries up as fear sets in. He doesn't look turned on. He doesn't sound dominating as much as he sounds annoyed.

Without giving him more to be angry about, I open my mouth and let him set the gag in place.

"Is it too tight?" he asks, pulling the strap and buckling it around my head.

I shake my head.

"Good girl." His tone's slightly softer. "Lay back for me."

My eyes water as I obey. I signed up for this. I manipulated for this. I dreamed of this. To be used and pleasured and given a chance to play with my darkest desires.

I didn't know it would feel this terrifying. The vulnerability, I expected. But the fear and shame hits harder when I can't tell what he's thinking. I squeeze my eyes shut as old insecurities fill my head with voices I'd be happy to never hear again and yet one in particular still infiltrates my walls.

What kind of monster likes sick shit like this, Tara?

Only whores open their legs for strange men.

You're a disgusting slut.

My hands tremble as I wipe the tears off my cheeks.

Suddenly, my body slides to the edge of the footboard and legs raise into the air. I squeak with fear as Ryker, Mr. Hudson—fuck!—Sir, attaches the spreader bar to a chain that's dangling from the ceiling. Tipped so far back, I feel like a prize fish hanging for inspection. Panic sets in and I try to twist myself so I can see what he's doing. It doesn't work.

"Nothing will happen that you don't want to have happen." He runs a hand along my calf, as if to soothe me. It doesn't work. "Remember the light system. Green for good. Yellow for unsure or uncomfortable. Red for stop."

How the hell am I supposed to say a color with this gag in my mouth!

"You will nod when I ask," he says, like he's read my mind.

When he climbs onto the bed, his head crests between my thighs. "Good morning, Butterfly." He lowers his mouth to my pussy and licks me. When he drags his tongue across my cunt, I tense and watch his pupils blow wide.

I wonder if mine have too.

When he licks me again, he targets my clit and is rough with my tender flesh. I like it. A lot. But it's not enough to get me to climax. I feel too empty.

Click. A loud buzzing noise starts up and suddenly, he's pressing a huge vibrator against my cunt.

"Are you still green?"

Hells yes, I am. How can I not be? It's just a vibrator, for fuck's sake.

I nod, relaxing into the sensation of the toy on me.

Sir runs it along my slick pussy and shoves something else inside me. Pumping whatever it is in and out of my cunt, I notice he's still in his tux from last night. His hair looks like he's raked his hands through it a dozen times. There's stubble across his jaw that the morning light hits just right.

My belly feels heavy. A light sheen of sweat spreads across the back of my neck. Relaxing into the moment, I let the sensations consume me again.

The vibrator's speed kicks up a notch.

"Still green?"

I nod.

Whatever he's got inside me quickens, and my body coils around the pressure and pleasure. It builds, builds, builds, then—

I scream through an orgasm that has me seeing stars. My body erupts in goosebumps, chills, heat, and bliss. My voice cracks as I scream, my pussy clenching around whatever he's got stuffed inside me. The lower half of my body sways, suspended in the air by the hooked spreader bar. I'm dizzy. Heart hammering, I lift onto my elbows and try to tell him to let up on the vibrator. I need a minute to climb down from this euphoria, but another orgasm assails me instead.

I can't catch my breath.

I can't see straight.

I can't move.

Crying out around the silicone ball in my mouth, I choke on my spit. Sir doesn't relent. In fact, he keeps me coming until I'm in the yellow.

My thighs shake, my hips are sore, my body feels too hot and strung out. I can't breathe, my head's spinning, and dots sprinkle in my vision.

"Are you still green?"

I shake my head.

"Are you yellow?"

I nod.

The bastard turns the vibrator up and makes me come over and over until I'm sobbing. Fat tears fall down the sides of my face and soak my hair. I'm covered in sweat. I can't feel my cheeks. I can't feel my ass. I can't feel my pussy.

Everything's a violent combination of overly sensitive and completely numb.

He's broken me before breakfast was served.

Mr. Hudson doesn't stop.

I try yelling at him through the ball gag to give me a minute to recuperate. With barely enough strength to prop myself up, I cuss him out with my ball gag.

"I'm sorry, Butterfly. What was that?" He presses the vibrator harder against my clit and my next orgasm makes me nauseous. My thighs shake as I buck against it and my head hits the mattress again. Fuck!

"Are you green again?"

I shake my head fast.

"Yellow?"

If I go to red, he'll stop. If I say yellow, he'll continue, and I might die.

I don't know what do to because I don't want him to stop, and I can't let him continue. My body's mush. My head's a foggy mess. My pussy tingles and feels pulverized.

"Butterfly, are you yellow?"

I don't have an answer.

"Fuck." The vibrator shuts off, and he tosses it to the side. Quickly unhooking my ankles from the spreader bar, he lowers me down slowly.

I cry out because my muscles hurt. Fumbling with the buckle on my gag, my hands tremble too much for me to unlatch it.

"I've got it," he says in a gruff voice. For someone who did nothing but play with toys, he sure sounds as exhausted as I am. Sir releases the gag from my mouth and my jaw aches from being open for so long.

I can't keep my eyes open. I can't feel the bed anymore. I'm neither floating nor sinking.

I'm… gone.